Page 7 of A Star in the West

She blushed at the poetic-sounding compliment even though she knew he was just reciting the literal meaning. “My father has always been fascinated by astronomy, and I happened to be born one month after the discovery of Sirius B, the companion star to Sirius. Papa read the paper by George Phillips Bond on the subject and decided at once that I was to have a name fitting of such a find.”

Frank’s head came up. “I remember studying that paper. Bond ran the Harvard observatory at the time. A pair of telescope makers in Cambridgeport alerted him of the find, I believe.”

“That’s right. Alvan Clark and his father.” She smiled. Not many people around here knew of the Clarks or cared much about their work from nearly three decades ago. It was nice to share the story with someone who could appreciate it the way she and Papa did.

“How about you?” she asked when silence threatened to intrude again. “Do you have a middle name?”

“I do. Nothing quite as stellar as yours, however.”

She chuckled softly at his pun. “I’m sure it’s delightful.”

“The name itself is fine. It’s the repercussions that carry unfortunate results. In fact, I tend not to share it with anyone unless legally required to do so.”

Stella slowed her steps as they reached the creek. Instead of turning to walk along the bank, she halted and pivoted to face him. He was choosing to share something private with her. Something intimate. Her pulse quickened. “You have me quite intrigued, sir.”

“Like yours, my father has long been fascinated by scientific matters. One of his favorite hobbies around the time of my birth was to research historical mathematicians. His favorite was John Napier, a sixteenth-century Scottish scholar and the Eighth Laird of Merchiston. He apparently came to be known as the Marvelous Merchiston.”

Stella stifled a giggle. “Oh my.”

“Quite the moniker, isn’t it? Father said he was deserving of the title since he discovered logarithms, invented a calculating device known as Napier’s bones, and popularized the use of the decimal point.”

“Three quite impressive accomplishments. I suppose those could qualify him for ‘marvelous’ status.”

“My father thought so. Of course, he also thought it marvelous to saddle his son with the name Napier.”

“It could have been worse. You could have been named for Anaxagoras, my father’s favorite.”

Frank chuckled, a rich, delightful sound that instantly made her heart lighter. “Yes. That’s certainly worse. Although it would have helped with my secondary problem.”

“And what problem is that? To my ear, Frank Napier Stentz carries a very distinguished ring.”

Frank shot her a self-conscious grin. “Try just the middle initial. See how that rings.”

“Frank N. Stentz?” It took a moment, but when she repeated it to herself silently at a faster clip, it hit her.

Laughter exploded from her in a burst. She slapped a hand over her mouth to try to hold it in, but when she caught the twinkle in Frank’s eyes, she gave up the fight.

A man with ties to the nativity after all. And one apparently possessed of enough humility and humor to poke fun at himself while inviting her to know him better. Could anything be more charming? Or dangerous?

Losing her heart to this man would be so easy. But would it lead to losing her father?

Stella fell silent as she resumed their walk along the creek. She’d promised Mama to take care of Papa, and she’d not go back on her vow. If the Lord didn’t make a path for her to somehow keep them both, she’d have to let Frank go.

Chapter 4

Frank surreptitiously flipped open the lid of his pocket watch and checked the time. His jaw clenched.

Wrap it up, Muir. You’ve already gone four minutes over.

He wasn’t usually one to clock-watch, but these were extraordinary circumstances. For the first time in ages, the real world captivated him more than the theoretical one. And in the real world, a certain delightful lady had invited him to join her in a carpentry project at the church following the afternoon symposium session. A session that should have concluded—he checked his watch again—six minutes ago.

Muir’s voice droned on about the apparatus German physicist Heinrich Hertz built in 1887 to generate and detect electromagnetic waves and the experiments Muir himself had been conducting on those Hertzian waves. Such an innovative area of research should have held Frank’s attention easily, but he found his mind wandering to Stella instead.

He’d enjoyed her company five times in the last ten days. Twice, he and the other visiting professors had supped in her home. Once, he’d walked her home from her literary society meeting, and last Sunday he’d attended church with her and her father. Sitting next to her on the pew had made concentrating on the preacher’s sermon quite a challenge, but sharing a hymnal as they sang had been a complete delight. Even her slightly off-key singing hadn’t dimmed his pleasure.

However, his favorite outing transpired yesterday, when they’d strolled across the Waco Suspension Bridge. The weather had turned chilly, driving most people indoors. He’d offered to take her home if she’d rather not be out in the wind, but she’d opted to brave the cold, which afforded them a bit of privacy on their stroll. They’d stopped halfway across the bridge, leaned against the railing, and simply watched the Brazos River flow beneath them. Despite the winter nip in the air that numbed their ears and chapped their cheeks, it had been a glorious outing. He’d had her all to himself for nearly an hour.

They’d spoken of his family and hers. Of the differences between eastern society and life in Texas. Of how mathematics and art blended in various forms, like music and kaleidoscopes and architecture. The very bridge they stood upon served as a ready example of how one enhanced the other.