Noah lowered the tool and waited. Sweat ran down his temple, but he didn’t swipe at it.
Luke shook his head. “I’ve been a marshal for ten years and was a soldier for another decade before then. One thing I’ve learned is to trust my gut, and it’s screaming that we’ve met before.” The marshal’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t look unkind. “Noah Jeffers isn’t your real name, is it?”
Chapter 13
Jack and Penny’s quick steps echoed along the boardwalk as they passed a moseying couple. Jack glanced over her shoulder just as the man and woman turned into the newspaper office. She blew out a heavy breath and allowed her steps to slow.
Penny copied her and peered back toward Dolly’s shop. She patted her thin hand against her chest. “I don’t know how you keep from having curly hair.”
Jack stared at her friend. “What?”
Penny swatted her hand in the air. “The marshal is so stern. He scares me so badly my hair curls.”
Shaking her head, Jack couldn’t help grinning. “Luke may act tough, but he’s just a big, lovable puppy.”
“Nuh-uh.” Penny stiffly shook her head, her eyes wide. “I’d better head back home before Mama comes looking for me.”
Jack waved. “See you tomorrow.”
Penny walked backwards down Bluebonnet Lane. “You gonna dance with the minister if Billy doesn’t hog you?”
“No. I doubt I’ll be dancing at all since my knee still hurts.”
Penny shrugged and turned around, then continued down the lane at a quick clip.
“Well, now, that disappoints me.”
Billy. Jack closed her eyes and took a calming breath. He was more annoying than a bad case of poison ivy. Forcing a cordial smile, she turned to face him. “H’lo, Billy.”
His passionate gaze raked her from head to toe, a slow smile stealing across his mouth. “Sure am glad you didn’t kill yourself when you fell off that roof.”
“So is my ma.” Jack resisted rolling her eyes at her dumb response.
Billy scowled and leaned against the boardwalk railing, crossing his arms. “What’s that nonsense about you dancing with that new minister?”
“Nothing.” Jack’s ire simmered. It was none of his business who she danced with. “I won’t be dancing with anyone because my knee is still tender.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this social just so’s me and you can kick up our heels a bit.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. I need to go.” She started across the street, but he intercepted her, blocking her way.
Irritation flickered in his blue eyes. He forked his fingers through his white blond hair. “Hold on now. Surely you could dance with me a little bit.”
She glanced at the store and boardinghouse, half relieved no one was watching and half disappointed. Where was Luke when she needed him?
She’d told Billy over and over that she wasn’t interested in him, but he failed to believe her. “I’m going to the social, but I won’t be dancing. My knee is all right for walking, but I can’t dance and risk twisting it and doing more damage. The doctor said it may take a long time to heal.”
“Then why are you bothering to have that new dress made?”
She could hardly tell Billy she hadn’t been all that interested in the dress her ma had ordered until Noah Jeffers came to town. Jack lifted her brows. “How do you know about that?”
“Tessa told me.”
Ahh, Tessa. She’d probably bragged about how much nicer her own dress was and how it had come all the way from Boston.
He stood with his hands on his hips, staring down at her. She couldn’t deny he was a handsome man, and that was part of the problem. He thought he could flash his dimpled smile and get every gal in town to swoon. Well, not her. She never swooned.
“Why don’t you ask Velma Tate? She’d love to go with you.”
He snorted and looked as if he might gag. “She’s fat.”
Jack crossed her arms. “She is not. Besides, she’s really nice and likes you a lot.”
“Well, I don’t like her. You’re my fiancée. It wouldn’t look right for me to take some other gal.”
Gritting her teeth, Jack leaned in close. “I—am—not—your—fiancée. And stop telling people that I am. You hear?”
His smile returned. “Oh, Jacqueline, are we having a lover’s spat?”
“Oh!” Jack stomped her foot. The sharp pain that grabbed her knee like a bear claw instantly caused her to regret the action. She bent down, rubbing her knee through the fabric of her skirt and petticoat. “We’re not lovers. And I thank you kindly not to ever say that again.”
“You all right?” He had half enough sense to look repentant.
She straightened but kept the heel of her sore leg off the ground. “No, I’m not, thanks to you.”
“I didn’t make you stomp your foot.”
Jack rolled her eyes. Men were so dense. A dog barked behind her, and she heard a harness jingle. She stepped to the side of the road and looked to see who was coming. A farmer she didn’t recognize tipped his straw hat at her. His black-and-white dog sat on the seat beside him, wagging his tail. Jack smiled and waved at the man.
Billy scowled as the wagon passed them. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t know. I was just being friendly.”
He stepped up close to her and brushed his fingers through the hair that hung into his eyes. “How come you ain’t more friendly to me?”
She hated hurting people’s feelings, but she was also getting tired of Billy’s possessiveness. “Maybe because you won’t take no for an answer. I’m not interested in marrying you, Billy. Or courting, either. I don’t ever plan to marry, so you’re wasting your time.” As soon as the words left her mouth, an image of Noah Jeffers chopping wood invaded her mind.
“You’re just too high and mighty, Miss I’m-the-marshal’s-daughter.” Billy’s childish, singsong tone set her nerves on edge.
“Luke doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
The door on the boardinghouse flew open, and Alan stepped onto the porch. He shaded his eyes with his hand; then he saw her and waved. “Emmie’s awake and wants out of bed. Ma said I should come find you, Sissy.”
“I’m coming.” She looked at Billy again. “I’ve gotta go.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he glared at her, his eyes as cold as ice. “Most girls in this county would be happy to dance with me. You just be ready come tomorrow night, or else.”
Jack shoved her hands to her hips and leaned toward him. “Or else what?”
“You don’t wanna find out.”Billy spun on his heel and marched back toward the mercantile his mother owned.
Jack watched him go. She wasn’t one to scare easily, but something in the tone of Billy’s voice set her senses on alert. What would he do if she didn’t dance with him? Hurt her? Or one of her siblings?
Besides her father, only one person had ever scared her like Billy just had, but he was long gone. Too bad Billy wasn’t also.
Noah’s hands sweated as he stared at the marshal. He found it hard to swallow, as if the man had his fingers around Noah’s throat, but he couldn’t lie—he wouldn’t. All he could do was tell the marshal the truth and hope the man believed that he had changed. That he wasn’t the troubled youth he’d once been. Please, Lord, don’t let him send me packing. I’m not done here yet.
The marshal’s eyes narrowed, and Noah broke his gaze and stared at the wood cuttings spread across the grass where he’d been working. If he had to leave Lookout now, his heart would resemble those chips—splintered and scattered.
“I am with you always.”
Noah lifted his head, resolve coursing through him as God’s words strengthened him. The Lord had sent him here on a mission, and Luke Davis couldn’t keep him from it.
He caught the marshal’s gaze again and nodded. “Yes, sir, we’ve met before.”
Luke’s jaw quivered, as if he was clenching his teeth. “When—and where?”
>
Noah glanced away again. “Here. Ten years ago.”
The marshal’s eyes lifted to the sky, and he seemed to be searching his memory. His brow dipped, and his mouth twisted to one side. His eyes suddenly widened. “You’re not part of the Payton Gang, are you?”
Noah shook his head, surprised the marshal hadn’t figured out the mystery yet.
“Nah, you’re too young. How old are you, anyhow?”
“Twenty-four.”
The marshal didn’t seem in any big hurry to remember, so Noah waited, hoping he’d get distracted like the last time he asked. Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t recollect who you are.”
Noah kicked a chunk of wood, knowing his time was up. “Noah is what my ma named me. It’s my real first name, but my pa hated it and refused to call me that. Said it wasn’t a manly enough name for his son. I did change my surname, though.”
He tightened his fist on the wooden handle as unwanted memories of his past assailed him. Of all the times he took a beating because he didn’t do something fast enough for his pa or when he burnt the meal or came home late. “My pa was a lazy man and a mean drunk. We were living up near Emporia when he died. I was fifteen and old enough to be on my own, but a kind man named Pete Jeffers took me in anyway and taught me how to be a real man, and he taught me about God’s love.”
Noah leaned the axe against the chopping block. If the marshal got upset when he heard the truth and took a swing at him, he sure didn’t want either of them to get hurt on the axe blade. “Pete was the only real father figure I ever had, and it just seemed the right thing to adopt his name.”
The marshal nodded. “Sounds a whole lot like Jack’s story and mine. She uses my last name now.”
Hope spread through him. Maybe this man did understand. “Yeah, it does. Anyway, my real last name was … Laird.” He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. “And everyone knew me by Butch.”
For a moment, the marshal’s face remained passive. Then he scowled. “Butch Laird! You’re Butch Laird? That bully who caused Jack so much trouble?”
Remorse weighted down his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”
The marshal stepped closer, his gaze narrowed. “You don’t aim to cause her any more problems, do you?”
Noah blinked, not the least bit surprised at the vehemence in the marshal’s expression. The man had no idea how much trouble Jack had caused him by her lying and trickery, but he had no desire to be vindicated. The past was past. Why was it so easy to forgive her and not his own father? “No, sir. Nothing could be further from my mind. I came here to do the Lord’s work—and to make restitution for the bad things I did in the past. I’m not like I used to be, sir. Let me prove to you—and the town—that I’ve changed.”
Marshal Davis relaxed his stance and stepped back. After a few moments, a grin crept onto his face, both surprising and relieving Noah. “Would those two new pie plates Mrs. Burke said magically appeared on her back porch have anything to do with your making restitution?”
Noah shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, but he felt his lips quirk up on one side. “Maybe. The scriptures say that when you give, your right hand shouldn’t know what the left hand is doing.”
The marshal nodded. “All right. I hear you. But I do have to say that was the first time I responded to a complaint about intruders, only to discover they left something instead of taking stuff.” He smiled then rested his hands on his hips and stared at the ground. “There’s one thing I do need to ask—were you the one who painted Jack is a liar all over town that day you left?”
He’d all but forgotten that stupid deed and deeply regretted painting those words, but he’d been so angry. Jack had lied about something he no longer remembered, causing him to spend two days in jail, only to return home and take a beating from his pa for being gone so long and not being there to cook his meals. They even packed up and moved because his pa said he was getting into too much trouble, and they needed a fresh start. He stared at his fingers. It had taken days for that red paint to wear off his hands, a constant reminder of his stupid, impulsive deed. “Yeah, I did that, and I can tell you I’ve regretted it ever since.”
Jack’s father stared into his eyes, as if judging how truthful his words were. Finally, he nodded. “I believe you mean that.”
“I do. If I could do it over, I’d do things differently.”
The marshal placed his hand on Noah’s shoulder, warming his skin and his heart. “You had a hard time of things, son, and I want you to know that Jack told me the truth about everything after you left.”
Noah stared at the man, shocked all the way to his toes. “She did?”
“Yep. I’m sorry I was so hard on you back then, but I believed that little squirt. I never dreamed she’d tell me a falsehood.”
“She could be convincing.”
“And she had those two friends of hers always backing up whatever she said. It was your word against theirs. I’m sorry that I didn’t take you more seriously.” He yanked off his hat and smacked it against his leg. “I feel like I let you down, son. I’m sorry for not believing you.”
Overhead, a robin chirped a cheerful tune, oblivious to the turmoil Noah was experiencing. He never expected the marshal to apologize and didn’t quite know how to take it. He’d always been the one blamed whenever there was trouble, and no one had ever taken his side on things, even when he was the one who’d been wronged. “It’s all right. I understand.”
Luke Davis locked gazes with him. “I reckon you had more character back then than I gave you credit for.”
A place deep within Noah sparked and glowed as he saw respect blossom in the marshal’s eyes.
“I don’t remember you ever tattling on Jack.”
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have done any good. Nobody believed anything I said.”
“Is that why you haven’t told people who you are?”
Was that the real reason? Or could it have something to do with Jack? He lifted one shoulder and dropped it again. “Maybe. Do you think anyone would come to church if they knew the old town bully, Butch Laird, was preaching?”
“You’ve got a point, but you might be surprised. Lots of new folks who never heard of Butch Laird have moved here and attend church, and plenty of others would come out of curiosity.”
Noah watched a dog slink over to someone’s trash pile a few houses down and snitch a piece of garbage. The mutt carried it over to a nearby tree and lay down in the shade, chewing on his find. He’d felt just like that unwanted creature when he’d previously lived in Lookout. “You honestly think if folks knew they’d give me a chance?”
The marshal set his hat back on his head, then rubbed his chin with his forefinger and thumb. “Some would, some wouldn’t. But you’ll never know for certain unless you come clean.”
Noah wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm. “I plan to tell folks, but I’d hoped to wait a month or so and let them see me for who I am now. I’m a new creation in Christ, Marshal. I can assure you, I’m not like I used to be.”
Marshal Davis nodded. “All right. I appreciate your being honest with me. But there’s one thing I have to know: How does Jack figure in to all of this?”
At the mention of her name, his heart bucked, but she wasn’t the reason he’d come back to Lookout. “When Pete first told me about the letter he’d received from Pastor Taylor, I closed my ears and wouldn’t listen. Lookout was the last place I wanted to be.”
The marshal grinned. “I reckon we’ve got more in common than we first realized. I felt the exact same way about returning here, but look what God did for me. He let me marry the only woman I ever loved, we’ve got four great—albeit ornery—kids with another on the way, and they’re all healthy and smart. I’d have never dreamed all that could happen to me, but God has greater plans for us, son, than we can ever imagine.”
Noah closed his eyes, accepting the man’s encouragement into his heart. Growing up the way he had, not ever seeing anything good c
oming from his life, had been discouraging. Pa had beat him down both physically and verbally. Other kids had gotten him in trouble for things he’d never done. It was only by the grace of God that he was standing here. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the encouragement.”
He nodded; then an odd expression engulfed his face. “I just had a thought—that’s why you won’t eat pork, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Living on a hog farm, I ate pork three meals a day. Oft times it was all we ate. I just can’t stomach it anymore.”
“I noticed.” The marshal grinned. “Well, I reckon I’ve kept you from your work long enough. All I ask is that when you feel the time is right that you tell Jack before you reveal your identity to the rest of the town. She’ll probably need some time to work through that.” He glanced down the alley for a moment. “She was real sorry after you left and told me that she had wanted to apologize for lying about you on more than one occasion.”
“She actually told you that she lied?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “The deception ate at her until she couldn’t hold it in any longer, and she had to come clean. Jack has a good heart, but she sometimes buries it deeply to protect it. Her other pa was cruel and had no problem hitting women. It’s no big surprise that Jack has trouble trusting men. I’ve been trying for ten years now to fix the damage James did.”
Noah wasn’t sure if he should confess his current thoughts, but the marshal might as well know the whole story. “Though she did anger me at times, I always admired her spunk. I had a little sister for a few years who wasn’t scared of anything, but she took sick and died. I suppose Jack reminds me a little of her. I just wanted to be Jack’s friend, but she never gave me a chance.” Bertha Boyd stuck her head out the back door and stared. She must have recognized the marshal, because she quickly ducked back inside.
Finally a Bride (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 3) Page 13
