Beauty from Ashes (Wyldhaven Book 3)

by Lynnette Bonner

  “Fine!” John growled. “Now get your hands off me.”

  Joe let him go, keeping his guard up, but he was thankful to see that the man seemed to have settled down some. He eased back.

  Reagan stepped forward and clapped Joe on one shoulder. “Right. We’ll just be on our way then, Hunt. Seeing as how we are all feeling so peaceable now. Teresa Trenton is no longer any of your concern. Understand?” Without waiting for a reply, he gave Joe a firm nudge toward the door of the tent.

  Anger still spiking his pulse, Joe shook him off the moment they were outside.

  Reagan plunked his hands on his hips and quirked a brow at him.

  Joe pulled in a slow breath. “You didn’t ask him about the man he shot.”

  “He’s not going to tell me anything. And I didn’t want to give him advance notice that we’re looking into it. It would only give him time to threaten everyone into silence. We’re going to be fighting enough of that as it is. You sure you’re not going to do something for which I’ll have to arrest you?” Reagan’s look was pointed.

  Joe chuckled. Threw up his hands. “I know. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. But I don’t like being punched—even if it was only an attempt.”

  Reagan sighed and swung into the saddle. “Better to take a punch than to injure a man like that one’s pride.”

  Joe wished he didn’t agree. But he did. And an injured predator was always more dangerous and unpredictable.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Liora had just finished the last of her shift at Dixie’s and stepped outside the kitchen via the side door, when she heard a loud commotion coming from down the street. A mix of dread over what she was about to see and curiosity that wouldn’t let her turn the other way drew her around the corner.

  She had been in a morose mood all morning. One moment telling herself that Joe was right that she was forgiven and should therefore be accepted by the other women in the church, and the next, rebutting with the realization that every action carries consequences, and she therefore ought never to expect to be treated in the same way as a woman who had kept herself pure.

  She’d gone so many rounds with herself, that exhaustion seemed to have settled into her very bones, and yet she was no closer to an answer than before.

  The commotion grew louder as she made her way down the street. In front of the sheriff’s office, a group of women had gathered. Mrs. Hines and Mrs. King were at the front of the pack.

  Of course.

  Guilt jabbed her for the uncharitable thought.

  She paused on Dixie’s porch, before she approached too near.

  Reagan and Joe were just arriving from the direction of the livery in Joe’s wagon, which gave her a moment of hesitation. Normally, they rode their mounts when going out on rounds. And hadn’t Joe told her he aimed to quit his job first thing this morning? Yet his deputy’s star still glinted sunlight from the pocket of his shirt.

  The group of women took note of the men’s approach and quieted, but they may as well have been hawks, ready to swoop in and devour carrion.

  Joe, his gaze fixed on Mrs. Hines, had a pinched-lip look that let Liora know his anger was riding close beneath the surface. He pulled the wagon to a stop and both men dismounted. Joe set to tying the reins to the hitching post, while Reagan approached the group.

  “How can I help you, ladies?” Caution heavily weighted his voice.

  Dread mounting, Liora scuttled a few steps closer. She knew what this was going to be about!

  Feeling like a coward, she huddled behind one of the large log pillars on Dixie’s recently-constructed porch. Any woman who looked her way would likely be able to see her skirts protruding from behind the column, but at least this way she wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s gaze, or read their dour, disapproving expressions, and with the pillars in front of McGinty’s Alehouse also running interference, she might just escape without notice.

  Mrs. Hines was the first one to respond to Reagan’s question. “Sheriff, a concern of grave proportions has come to our attention regarding…well, regarding Mr. Rodante here, and we thought it only right that we should bring it immediately to your attention.”

  Liora could hear Reagan’s keys jangling as he unlocked the jailhouse door.

  “Very well. Give it to me straight.”

  “Well, you see, it’s just that…”

  The sound of boots scuffing against the jailhouse steps revealed Reagan’s irritation. “If you don’t mind Mrs. Hines, I have a busy day ahead of me. So do you have an accusation to bring against Deputy Rodante, or not?”

  “Well yes we do, Sheriff.”

  “Then I would appreciate it if you would come out with it.”

  “We think your deputy is engaged in unsavory activities with Liora Fontaine.” The words rushed out of Mrs. Hines’ mouth so fast that they might have been all one word.

  Liora cringed and settled one hand over her heart. It was exactly as she had feared. And it hadn’t even taken half a day for the town gossips to bring her worst fears to life. Whether he quit or not, Joe was going to lose his job. Had already lost his good reputation. And it was all her fault.

  “And I suppose that you have spoken to both Deputy Rodante and Miss Fontaine to confirm these suspicions of yours?” There was a hard edge to Reagan’s voice. “We do live in a country where people are innocent until proven guilty.”

  “First I’ve heard of it,” Joe said. His voice sounded like it was a lot closer than he’d been the last time she’d looked. Maybe he had joined Reagan on the steps. She was tempted to peek out to see where he was, but feared being caught eavesdropping.

  Mrs. Hines sputtered. “Well no. We did not speak to them, because of course what are they going to do but deny it?”

  “I do deny your accusation of unsavory activities, Mrs. Hines. However, I do not deny that I spent the night out at Miss Fontaine’s place.” His next words were spoken over top of the gasps of the gaggle of women. “Outside. By myself.”

  The jailhouse door squeaked and Reagan spoke. “There you see, ladies? Seems like we don’t have anything to worry about. Now if you’ll excuse me…” The door clicked shut with decided finality.

  “Well! I never!”

  This time, Liora did peek out from behind the pillar, she couldn’t help herself. Neither Joe nor Reagan were in sight. The group of women stood for several long moments gaping at the empty space before them.

  Then Mrs. Hines hoisted her skirts and marched out at the head of her pack. “Come on, ladies. It is clear that we are going to have to take this up with the town council.”

  Mrs. King glanced toward Dixie’s, and Liora withdrew behind the safety of her pillar. Soon the sound of the women’s footsteps and outraged babble disappeared beneath the clanging of the mercantile’s bell.

  “You going to cower behind this pillar all day? Or were you coming to let me know that you were finished with work?”

  Liora gasped and spun around. She felt her face flame with heat at having been caught eavesdropping. “I thought you went inside the jailhouse with Reagan.”

  Joe only grinned. “Saw you hiding out over here and didn’t figure I ought to leave you to fight the wolves alone. Went down the alley and cut through Dixie’s from the back.” He motioned that he’d only just come out of the door behind her.

  Liora despaired of a solution to their situation. “What are we going to do?”

  “Well first I need to go in and tell Reagan that I need to quit my job. And then…” He hefted a basket that she only now noticed by his side. “I picked this up on my way through the diner. You and I are going to go on a picnic.”

  Liora’s heart stuttered. “A what?” If gossip were flames of fire, it looked like Joe planned to ignite the whole town. The appreciative look in his eyes would have sent her running had it come from any other man, yet coming from Joe it was…intriguing. She fiddled with the collar of her blouse. “I have to go pick up Tess.”

  He held out a hand that urged her towar
d the jailhouse. “I already spoke to Jacinda. She said Tess is more than welcome to stay until we get back.”

  She should decline. Every rational thought in her said that going on a picnic with Joe Rodante, especially when confusion muddled her every thought where he was concerned and her only aim was to protect his reputation, was a very bad idea indeed. But her traitorous heart was racing with anticipation. Besides… He’d already set the match to his reputation. And she knew there would be no talking him out of quitting his job at this point. Under those circumstances, what could one little picnic hurt?

  Joe was studying her. “So…you’ll come?”

  “All right.” Her mouth felt as dry as the dust of the street.

  “Such enthusiasm,” he teased. “But I’ll take it.” He directed her toward the wagon and hefted the basket into the back. “It’s probably best for you to wait here. Reagan still has Hunt’s men in the cells in the back. I’ll only be a moment.”

  He assisted her up to the wagon seat, and then, true to his word, was only a couple of minutes inside the jailhouse before he stepped back out and strode her way.

  She studied the empty space on his pocket, and then lifted her gaze to his as he climbed up onto the seat next to her. “How did he take it?”

  Joe shrugged. “Said he understood. Said there would always be a job waiting for me if I wanted it back. Said if I ever needed any help just to give him a holler.”

  Liora smoothed her hands over her skirt. That was a relief at least. If they could get past all this hullabaloo, perhaps Joe could go back to work. She voiced something that had been concerning her ever since he mentioned quitting his job. “Joe? I appreciate you wanting to help, but… I don’t… I can’t afford—”

  He held up a hand. “I’ve got considerable savings laid by, and I wouldn’t take a penny from you even if you could afford it. I’ve had a hankering to buy a few broodmares and maybe start up a stable. This will be the perfect opportunity to see if I can make a go of that.”

  She felt relieved to know she wouldn’t be responsible for making him destitute. “Did you find out anything about the man that was shot?”

  Joe sighed. “Unfortunately, no. Not one person was willing to speak of the matter. I did however pay off the amount Tess owes him. So, she’ll no longer have that hanging over her. Not that it will stop Hunt from trying to get her working for him again.”

  It was in that moment that she recognized how relieved she was that Joe had not taken her words at face value. Much as she hated for him to have lost his job, she would have been terrified to face down John Hunt alone. And face him again she would because she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that rescuing Tess, and any future girls like her, was exactly what she ought to be doing.

  “Joe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  He remained silent for several moments before he finally nodded. “Like I said earlier, you’re worth it.” There was a bit of gravel in his voice, and the intensity in the gaze he turned on her sent her pulse skittering in a most unfamiliar way. She swallowed, unsure if it was a good feeling or a bad one.

  She scrambled for a change in topic. “So where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” He tossed her a quick wink.

  She pulled in a breath. This flirting was not like the Joe she knew at all, and yet she couldn’t deny that she was fascinated by this new side of him. And that in itself terrified her. When she’d left off working for Ewan, she’d sworn never to let a man touch her again. Yet Joe had always beguiled her. Even back when McGinty was paying her to lure men in, she’d tried to seduce Joe on more than one occasion.

  Just the reminder of it sent flames to her cheeks.

  And yet after Joe had purchased her contract and freed her from that life, she’d only ever thought of him as a friend—until he’d asked her to marry him. Somehow with that one question he had resurrected feelings she’d thought long buried.

  And that realization made her heart race. So much for trying to change the subject to spare her pulse.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  They settled into a comfortable silence as they rode further up into the mountains, the horses’ hooves clip-clopping a rhythmic beat that settled Joe’s nerves. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the sound of the horse hooves and much more to do with the company of the woman who sat on the bench beside him.

  He glanced over at her. She sat with her hands folded primly in her lap, taking in the scenery. He followed her gaze. All around them the mountain foliage had turned from the beautiful green shades of summer to the glorious vibrant colors of autumn. Maple trees fluttered bright red in a gentle breeze. Aspens now wore cloaks of gold. And even the pine trees had taken on a golden green hue with the old needles dying off.

  Joe was content to let the silence ride. All day long he’d been praying about the conversation he wanted to have with Liora, and he was thankful for a few more minutes of prayer. He didn’t want to mess this up.

  He turned the horses off of the main road where it widened out, and set the brake. Wrapping the reins around the brake handle, he tipped his chin toward the faint path visible through the underbrush. “There’s something I’d like to show you just this way if you don’t mind walking a bit?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Joe came around to her side of the wagon and helped her down from the seat. Much as he would have liked to, he didn’t let himself linger over the task but instead turned immediately to take up the basket from the wagon bed.

  Anticipating Liora’s reaction to what he was about to show her, he led the way through the thick underbrush. And he wasn’t disappointed.

  When they came out into the small clearing, Liora caught her breath in awe.

  Joe allowed a smile of satisfaction. He loved this place! The sound of the bubbling brook could be heard just across the way. But he’d brought her here because of the shoulder-high sunflowers that grew so thick in this field that he’d had to chop a path through them earlier.

  “Joe, these are beautiful!” She reached up and fingered the vibrant gold petals of the nearest bloom.

  He smiled at her. “I remembered that you said one time how much you like sunflowers.”

  Nostalgia washed her features. “They were my ma’s favorites.”

  Pain washed through him. Some would say that was a coincidence. He knew better and it was just further confirmation that he had done right to bring her here. He cleared his throat. “My mother’s too.”

  He took her hand and led the way through the sunflowers until they gave way near the bank of the creek, then removed the blanket he’d begged Dixie to loan him from the basket and spread it on the ground. He motioned for her to sit as he pulled the large tin vase—again, borrowed from Dixie—from inside the basket. He dipped it into the creek and filled it halfway with water and then used his pocket knife to cut the stems of several of the sunflowers. He deposited the flowers into the vase before he sank down across from her with a shrug. He was no hand at flower arranging, and that was certain. But he wanted to get to the heart of why he’d brought her here before he lost his nerve.

  “I’m not much good at this,” he said. “I guess… I just wanted to share this place with you because…” He cleared his throat. “My ma was the one who planted this field of sunflowers.”

  He realized that in all the years he had known Liora, he had never once spoken to her of his family. Painful memories were mostly best left in the past, but if he wanted a future with her, she deserved to know where he came from.

  “Your family was here? Near Wyldhaven?”

  He nodded, swallowing down the lump of aching reminder. “We settled here when I was just a boy. My pa was a trapper. After they birthed me, my ma and pa tried for many years to have more children, but they never could. Then, finally, when I was about fourteen, my ma got in the family way, but things were hard for her from the beginning. She had to rest a lot.” He took a breath and forced himself to continue. “One da
y while Pa and I were out checking traps, a grease fire started in the kitchen.”

  “Oh no.”

  He pressed ahead. “Ma was able to escape, but there was no saving our cabin. It sat right here on this very knoll.” He tapped the blanket they sat on. “It was spring, and unseasonably warm that year, so we lived in a tent while Pa and I kept the traps going and sawed logs every day for a new cabin. Ma, she planted the sunflowers that spring. She said God had reminded her He could bring beauty from any ashes. She even went so far as to say she felt God had told her to plant the sunflowers.” His voice broke and he looked out across the creek, willing away the emotions before they turned him into a crying fool. “I scoffed that God would do such a banal thing. Especially when the baby tried to come early just a few weeks later, and Ma, well, she didn’t make it. The baby, either.”

  “I’m so sorry, Joe.”

  He nodded. Scrubbed at the back of his neck. Best he get on with the telling. “Pa…he just…never seemed to recover from Ma’s death. We never did get that cabin built and he died only a couple years later.” He plucked the blade of grass and began shredding it methodically. “I thought often about Ma’s proclamation. God told her to plant sunflowers? Beauty from ashes? I didn’t understand. Nothing beautiful seemed to have come from our ashes. And I figured Ma had just been spouting romantic nonsense, as she did from time to time. She wasn’t here to see the sunflowers when they bloomed, but bloom they did. And they were beautiful. Are beautiful still. I’ve come to see them every year. And every year, I’ve prayed for God to help me understand. And then it hit me last night, maybe you’re the one they were meant for.”

  “Me? Whatever do you mean?” Liora tucked her feet up beside her and leaned against one arm, a furrow trenching her brow as she studied the field of flowers.

  He waited until she returned her focus to his. He looked right into her eyes, because he really wanted her to hear what he was about to say. “Not long ago I was reading in the book of Isaiah.”