Outside the garden was yielding its first modest harvest, and the foundation for a new room had been laid. Delilah's body too was changing, her pregnancy becoming visible beneath her dresses, though neither of them mentioned it directly. Yates began taking on more of the heavier tasks without being asked, and Delilah often caught him watching her with concern when he thought she was working too hard. Their first real test came in mid-occtober when Yates announced they needed supplies from Clearwater. The trip would take a full day, meaning Delilah would be alone at the homestead overnight.
"I don't have to go," he said clearly reluctant to leave her. "We could manage a while longer." "Don't be ridiculous," Delilah replied more sharply than she intended. "We need flour and salt, and you need to see about those fencing supplies. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself for one night." I know that," he said quietly. "But if anything were to happen, the genuine concern in his eyes softened her response.
I'll be fine, Yates. The cabin has a good lock, and you taught me how to use the rifle." She offered a reassuring smile. "Besides, my condition isn't so advanced that I can't manage." He nodded reluctantly. "I'll leave at first light, then. Should be back by nightfall tomorrow if the weather holds.
The morning of his departure, Delilah was surprised to find herself anxious as she watched him drive the wagon away. The homestead felt suddenly larger and emptier without his steady presence, and for the first time she fully appreciated how much she had come to rely on him over the past weeks. She kept busy throughout the day, determined not to dwell on her solitude. By late afternoon, however, dark clouds were gathering on the horizon, bringing an early twilight to the valley. As she lit the lamps inside the cabin, the first rumbles of thunder echoed across the hills.
The storm, when it broke, was fierce, a violent Texas squall that lashed the cabin with wind and rain. Delilah huddled near the stove, trying to focus on her mending as the tempest raged outside. The thought of Yates caught in such weather made her stomach clench with worry. A particularly loud crack of thunder made her jump, sending her needle jabbing into her finger. As she sucked at the small wound, a different sound caught her attention.
A frantic lowing from the direction of the corral. Moving to the window, Delilah peered through the rain stre glass. In the flashes of lightning, she could see that part of the corral fence had come down, and the two milk cows were in danger of wandering off into the storm darkened countryside. Delilah hesitated only briefly before grabbing her shawl in the lantern. The cows were too valuable to lose.
They represented not just milk and potential calves, but a significant portion of their limited resources. Yates would go after them without hesitation. She could do no less. The full force of the storm hit her as she stepped outside, the wind nearly tearing the shawl from her shoulders and the rain instantly soaking through her dress. Holding the lantern high, she made her way carefully to the damaged corral where one cow had already wandered out into the open field.
"Come on, girl," Delilah called, approaching slowly. "Back you go." The next half hour was a battle against both the elements and the frightened animals. By the time Delilah managed to herd both cows into the barn instead of the damaged corral, she was drenched to the skin, covered in mud, and exhausted. After securing the barn door, she struggled back to the cabin, the wind now driving the rain sideways in stinging sheets. Inside, shivering violently, Delilah stripped off her soden clothing and wrapped herself in a blanket before stoking the fire in the stove.