Cowboy Lawman's Christmas Reunion

by Louise M. Gouge

  He paused. “Let me pay my respects to the Colonel first.”

  “Sure thing. Come on out back when you’re done.”

  “Exercise will sharpen our appetites, as if they needed it.” Justice spoke conversationally, not as a lawman bent on arresting someone. “You think Gerard will want to play?”

  Evangeline’s heart tripped over itself. How kind of him to think of her son. “Why, yes. He loves baseball.” From his twinkling gray eyes, she could tell he was pleased, but she couldn’t guess why.

  “Good. I’ll make sure he’s invited to join us.” He continued his journey to the front of the house.

  She breathed deeply to slow her racing pulse and hide the warmth creeping up her neck from Marybeth, who’d entered the dining room with a tray of desserts to add to the already full side table.

  So Justice wasn’t all about punishment. Maybe he’d seen some promise in Gerard’s behavior during their afternoons of street cleaning, some inkling he could reach her son.

  “Please, Lord.” She whispered her prayer, hoping Marybeth didn’t hear her.

  “Hmm. What could you possibly be asking the Lord for, Evangeline?” Marybeth giggled. “I mean, didn’t a tall, handsome sheriff just walk through here? Was that a prayer he’ll notice you? Seems to me he already has.”

  “Oh, nonsense.” Now Evangeline’s face burned. “If the boys are going to play baseball, I only—”

  “Uh-huh.” Marybeth giggled again and returned to the kitchen.

  Evangeline sighed with relief. Not only did she have a reprieve from being arrested, but Marybeth seemed to have forgiven and forgotten the incident with Gerard and Randy.

  “Thank You, Lord.” This time, no one heard her prayer except the One to whom it was addressed.

  * * *

  Justice helped Rand bring the Colonel outside in his wheelchair so he could watch the game. The old man might not be able to get around too well, but his green eyes were bright with interest in everything happening on the ranch he’d built on a rocky field he and his family had cleared. When Justice first came to Esperanza, he’d learned that Four Stones Ranch was named for the four stones Colonel and Mrs. Northam’s four children laid out as they planned the footprint of the house. Now each one owned a part of the vast enterprise.

  Despite the powdery snow covering the barnyard, both boys and girls eagerly joined the game. In addition to Lizzie and Natty Northam and Evangeline’s son and daughter, several children of Four Stones ranch hands also came out to play. Most of them were pretty small, so an adult shadowed each child. Tolley divided the players into equally balanced teams, assigning to Justice Rand’s firstborn, five-year-old Randy. For some reason, the boy shied away from Gerard. Yet they ended up on the same team.

  Justice planned to “help” team captain Randy pitch, but after giving everyone on the team a tryout, Gerard turned out to be the most talented pitcher. Justice suggested to Randy they should take charge of first base. Georgia Eberly assisted Seamus’s youngest boy at both second and third, due to insufficient players and their two other teammates covering the outfield.

  Isabelle was first up to bat. Gerard moved close and tossed a slow, underhand pitch to his sister. She swung and missed. On the second pitch, with Nate’s help, the girl connected with the ball and sent it rolling several yards.

  “Run!” Nate pointed toward first base, and Isabelle dashed from home plate in that direction.

  Gerard pretended not to find the ball until she reached first base, a brotherly kindness no one on either team seemed to mind. The gesture surprised and impressed Justice. So the boy wasn’t entirely a rapscallion.

  Lizzie was next to bat. The dainty little blonde, almost a twin to Isabelle, held the bat above her right shoulder like a professional and narrowed her eyes at her cousin. Gerard tossed another easy underhand pitch. Lizzie swung and missed.

  “Strike one,” umpire Doc Henshaw called.

  “Come on, Gerry berry.” Lizzie stood with one hand on her hip in a cute imitation of Susanna. “Pitch like you mean it so I can hit it.”

  “You asked for it.” Gerard grinned like any rascally ten-year-old might. Justice was surprised to see the affection in his eyes for his sister, and his playfulness with his female cousin was equally impressive. In fact, he was protective of Natty and Frankie, too. Justice must look for ways to break through his shield and find that tender place.

  Justice’s ruminations almost caused him to miss what happened next. Gerard threw overhand, the ball landing right in catcher Tolley’s leather glove.

  “Strike two,” Doc called.

  “You sure you don’t want an easy pitch, sissy Lizzie?” Gerard mocked.

  “Give me your best pitch, cousin.”

  Lizzie’s blue eyes sparkled like Evangeline’s, a family trait. Justice shook off the thought and tried to concentrate on the game.

  Gerard threw overhand again. Lizzie swung hard. Her bat connected with the ball and sent it bouncing across the ground. Gerard snatched it up and shot it to Randy. With only a little help from Justice, Randy caught the ball and stood triumphant on first base. Lizzie ran for all she was worth, but Randy held the ball up and grinned.

  “You’re out,” Doc called. “Sorry, Lizzie.”

  She shrugged. “That’s all right, Doctor John.” She skipped back to her team full of giggled apologies, her earlier competitiveness giving way to simple enjoyment of the game.

  After Natty also struck out, the teams traded places, with Gerard praising his side as they went. “Good job, team.” He shook every player’s hand.

  Justice took a chance and reached out to him. Before he could catch himself, Gerard responded with a firm grip and a grin. Then, as if realizing he’d made a mistake, he yanked his hand back and abruptly stomped away toward the barn, his usual sullen mask firmly back in place.

  “Hey, Gerard, you’re up to bat first,” Georgia called.

  The boy continued his journey without responding.

  * * *

  Watching from the mudroom window, Evangeline held her breath as Justice reached out to Gerard. Because of his kind gesture, she permitted herself a moment of joy, perhaps even a renewed affection for the man. But when Gerard pulled away from him, her heart sank. Why couldn’t her son respond to Justice’s kindness? The answer was simple, and especially so since she’d seen Hugo walking the streets of Esperanza last Monday. One day Justice would find out she’d left behind Lucius’s unpaid debts. He would arrest her and send her back to face her creditors. If what Hugo told her was true, she could be imprisoned, and her children would become wards of the state. He would take them in, of course, and treat them as his own. That was, until golden-haired Isabelle was old enough to—

  Stop it. Evangeline couldn’t do anything about Hugo’s threats right now, but she could do something about Gerard. She hurried from the house and caught Justice as he followed Gerard toward the barn.

  She touched his arm. “I’ll speak to him.”

  Justice stopped and stared down at her. Pain filled his eyes, but he quickly masked it with his sheriff face. “Good.” He turned back to the game.

  Heart aching, Evangeline searched for Gerard and found him seated on the floor of a stall in the barn. He was giggling as he hadn’t in a long time because of the half dozen black-and-white puppies crawling all over him, licking his face, tugging at his clothes, biting his ears. Their mother watched nearby with no indication she was concerned for her offspring. That was a good sign. A mother dog could tell if someone meant harm to her children, just like a human mother. In that fact lay Evangeline’s dilemma in regard to Justice. One moment he was a stern disciplinarian who intimidated her almost as much as he intimidated Gerard, the next he was a friendly baseball teammate making sure her son was included in the game.

  Gerard looked up as she came near the stal
l. “May I have a puppy, Mother?” His dark eyes sparkled in the light beaming through the barn door. “For Christmas, I mean?”

  She knelt and picked up one of the wiggling creatures, holding it away as it tried to lick her face. “For Christmas?” She had other gifts in mind for her children. “I’ll have to ask Susanna and Nate if they want another dog at their place. They already have the two to help herd the cattle and Lady, the watchdog.” Another thought occurred to her. “I would imagine Nate might be more likely to consider it if he knew he could count on you to help with chores...and show a good attitude while you’re doing it.”

  Gerard blinked innocently. “Sure, I’ll help.” He petted the puppy in his arms. “I like Cousin Nate.”

  This was new. And yet, maybe not. Recently, Gerard’s attitude had improved at home. He’d even spoken respectfully to Nate since his return from Denver.

  “I’m glad you do.” She set the puppy down and petted the mother dog. The presence of these sweet, playful animals seemed to have opened a door for Gerard, for he appeared willing to talk about serious matters for the first time since Lucius died.

  “I don’t like that sheriff,” he blurted out.

  Evangeline smothered a gasp over his sudden change of mood...and his vehemence. “Why not, my dear? He has a job to do, and—”

  “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

  Sometimes I don’t either. But she didn’t think they were talking about the same manner of looking. “Why not?”

  He shrugged.

  “Well, you must have a reason. What bothers you about the way he looks at me?” She wouldn’t even think about her own way of viewing Justice when she thought he didn’t notice...and yet he always seemed to catch her.

  Gerard shrugged again. “I don’t know.” His face clouded. “I don’t want you to get married again.”

  She laughed without meaning to. “Oh, my dear, you needn’t worry, especially where Sheriff Gareau is concerned. If you see any kindness in his expression when he looks at me, it’s only because we were friends when we were children.” And beyond childhood into their teen years, when young love blossomed only to die on the vine. “I have many fond memories of our families going to church together, having suppers together. We were neighbors. I’ve told you this.” She wouldn’t tell him Justice had known his father and disliked him exceedingly.

  His forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. “I still don’t like him.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t, but no matter how you feel, you must behave so he doesn’t have any cause to correct you. It’s that way with all of the adults we know. They all want the best for you, as I do.”

  As if someone had rung the dinner bell, the puppies suddenly swarmed their mother for dinner, abandoning their human friends.

  “Let’s go back to the house. Or you can play some more while we ladies get dinner on the table.”

  “All right.” He smoothed the furry head of the mother dog, stood and brushed straw from his clothes.

  The barnyard was deserted, so they washed their hands in the mudroom and hurried inside to find everyone gathered in the dining room. After Reverend Thomas offered a Thanksgiving prayer, the adults helped the children fill their plates and find a place at the dining room table. Then the adults followed suit, proceeding to the ballroom, where two long damask-covered tables were set with crystal, silverware and linen napkins.

  To Evangeline’s relief, Susanna didn’t try to seat her beside Justice. In fact, they found places across the room from each other. She slid a surreptitious glance in his direction and found him looking at her, too. But his eyes held more sadness than admiration for her, probably because he’d failed to reach Gerard. She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. His face lightened, and he gave her a smile she could only describe as tender.

  Her heart skipped. If that was the look Gerard noticed, Justice’s feelings for her might be more than nostalgia. But it wouldn’t do any good to encourage him, even if she wanted to, when Gerard disliked him so much. Not when Hugo Giles had come to town to collect money she didn’t have and would demand her arrest.

  * * *

  As planned, Evangeline left the children at the ranch and drove into town to open the library on Friday. Susanna dearly wanted to come, too, but little Frankie had a cold, so she stayed home to nurse him. Ever the generous cousin, she cheerfully sent Evangeline off with a box of cookies for the patrons who would no doubt flock to the opening.

  The event was a grand success. Several ladies had set up a refreshment table with lemonade and cookies, to which Evangeline added Susanna’s offering. It seemed the entire community came to inspect the place, giving Evangeline a chance to meet more of her neighbors. Justice had locked the back room door, and when anyone asked what was in there, Evangeline could answer truthfully it was cluttered with unfinished work. The children were out of school, and mothers eagerly showed them around, encouraging them to find something to read.

  In the busyness of the morning, she forgot her fears about Hugo. Then, at noon, they came rushing back when Georgia Eberly took her place and sent her off to eat dinner, and she found herself looking at every man who passed Williams’s Café. If Hugo was indeed the person she’d seen the previous Monday, he certainly was taking his time making himself known to her. Of course, he didn’t know she’d seen him. He’d been walking west at a brisk pace and didn’t turn to stare down Center Avenue, and she’d been out of sight inside the library at the time.

  But then, he’d always been a sneaky sort. Which meant he was probably busy making plans to worm his way into the fabric of the town, to earn everyone’s respect so they’d have no trouble believing his claims about her being a fugitive from the law. Unfortunately for her, she was.

  Dismissing her woeful thoughts, she paid Miss Pam for her ham sandwich and stepped back outside into the brisk breeze to return to the library. After all, until Hugo made himself known, she must carry on as though he didn’t exist.

  “Ah, there you are.” An unmistakable, silky smooth male voice came from behind her, startling her all the more because of what she’d been thinking. “Dear Cousin Evangeline, how good to see you at last.”

  A violent shiver swept down her back. Calling on her many years of hiding her emotions from Lucius, she drew in a long breath, straightened to her full stature and turned to meet her doom. As a frightening chuckle erupted from her adversary, her dinner threatened to come back up. Somehow she managed to speak in a cool, aristocratic tone that would have made her mother proud.

  “Why, Hugo Giles, imagine meeting you here.”

  Chapter Eight

  Justice couldn’t be more pleased over the way the building of his house was proceeding. With all of the outside work completed, the workmen only needed to finish the inside, and Justice could move in a few days before Christmas. Some of his furniture had arrived from Denver and waited in the storage shed behind the house. He hadn’t decided on other furnishings, such as drapes and rugs. Such decisions would need a woman’s touch. Evangeline’s face, as always, floated across his mind’s eye. He quickly dismissed the images.

  He’d also need kitchen supplies. His battered blue coffee pot would look out of place on the new cast-iron range Mrs. Winsted insisted he must purchase. She seemed to think he wanted to keep up with the Northams, but he certainly couldn’t cook for himself, no matter how grand the appliance.

  “After all, with such a fine new house,” she’d said, “you must furnish it with fine new appliances.”

  This was the same lady who’d insisted—shortly after Evangeline arrived—he also needed the bergamot cologne he now used. If he didn’t wear it, she’d scold him. After Susanna, she was the most persistent matchmaker in town. He’d only humored her because he’d still felt bad for not preventing those foolish young cowboys from shooting out her front window.

 
He rounded the corner onto Main Street in time to see Evangeline disappear around the far corner onto Center Avenue. He quickened his pace to catch her so he could ask about the library opening, but before he walked three paces, he spied a dandy entering the jailhouse. He’d seen the man at a distance the other day but left him alone, assuming he’d soon be traveling farther west to Del Norte or Creede in search of gambling halls or gold mines. If the visitor needed something from him, duty must come first. The trip to the library would have to wait.

  Striding along the boardwalk, he felt a pinch of annoyance. He’d looked forward to seeing Evangeline’s success, wanted to hear firsthand the compliments folks would no doubt pour out on her. She was too modest to repeat such praises. He might not plan to attempt a renewal of their long-lost courtship, but he did want her to do well. After all, she’d worked hard to organize those books.

  Opening the door to his office, he set aside his annoyance and pasted on his professional face. The young dandy of perhaps twenty-five years was chatting amiably with Deputy Sean. Both men looked up as he entered.

  “Sheriff, this is Hugo Giles.” Sean nodded toward the man.

  “How do you do, Sheriff?” A mild Cajun inflection colored the stranger’s words as he reached out to Justice. His firm, friendly handshake revealed surprising confidence for someone his age. Or was it bravado?

  “Doing well, thank you.” Justice rounded his tones. No need to give the man a hint of his own background, at least not yet. He could see the awareness in Sean’s eyes over his pronunciation, a sign the deputy would follow his silent lead in this situation, as he always did.

  Justice casually measured the other man’s appearance for clues to his character. Of medium height, perhaps five feet ten inches, he had dark hair and eyes, was clean-shaven, wore a mild, sweet cologne that came just short of being too feminine. He sported a handsome new black wool suit, a pristine white shirt, a modest black cravat, a dark gray jacquard waistcoat, a black bowler hat and black city shoes shined to a military brilliance. Something about his well-formed face seemed familiar, but at the moment Justice couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was because his visage was so thoroughly Cajun, with features Justice had observed while growing up and bore a bit of himself.