The Ways of Heaven

by Lindsey Barlow

  This time Rose did smile. “Well, Tall Pine will always think him a hero for stopping the railways from running through our valley.”

  Phillip shrugged. “As a man who comes from a ranching family, I am grateful for that. However, it would have possibly turned Tall Pine into a small city, eventually, at least.”

  Rose inclined her head. “Would you like that?”

  He nodded his head. “Most men would. Cities mean more people.” He smiled slyly, “More beautiful women, although I think Tall Pine has plenty.” He looked pointedly at her, slowing his pace.

  Rose met his eyes before lowering her head and looking away. “I am a married woman, Mr. Hugh.”

  He nodded. “Sadly, you are. One, who I believe, sacrificed her own happiness for the good of that lovely girl you are holding.”

  Rose stroked Daisy’s cheek. “Whatever I sacrificed, she is worth it.”

  “Do you think there is a chance you could have both?”

  Rose felt her heart skip a beat. She did not look at him, though she could feel his stare aiming right at her. “What do you mean by that exactly?”

  They were nearing the house. Rose could see Cade leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. That was a quick bath.

  “I mean that sometimes a person settles because they feel they have no other option. I’m worried, Rose, that you have a fear of being alone and therefore settled for Cade.”

  She pressed her lips together in a tight smile. “Have you ever thought I would be just fine without a man? I have. And I know I will be just fine if things do not work out between Cade and me.”

  Phillip paused, and Rose took a step forward before turning around to face him. “Is something wrong?”

  Phillip frowned. “I do not doubt your capability for independence and strength. You proved that when you marched into Tall Pine with a dark baby and a frail cook on your arm. But I truly hope, that should the day come when you can no longer put up with this...” he rolled his eyes, “charade, that you come to me, and let me help you.”

  Cade’s eyes were locked on them. Rose could feel his eyes throwing fiery darts at Phillip. She glanced over her shoulder seeing him striding off the porch and towards them.

  “You don’t truly know me, Mr. Hugh. Your admiration may be undeserved.”

  He took a step closer. “Sometimes we need to trust feelings more than logic. Logically I should keep my distance from a married woman, but my feelings tell me I would be a fool to not, at least, get to know you.” His hand lifted hesitantly to brush a strand of her hair rippling in the wind against her face.

  “I would ask you to remove your hand from my wife.” Cade’s voice drawled out in restraint, “And step back.”

  Phillip smiled softly. “How perfectly primeval of you. Well, good evening to you, too, Mr. Walker. Angus beef to enjoy in your new home.” He nodded to the package. “And, fret not, I wasn’t going to eat her. No need to be so protective.”

  Cade growled. “Keep your hands off my wife, keep your horse off this land, and keep that sugary smile out of my sight.”

  Phillip folded his arms. “My, aren’t you a protective one all of a sudden? From what I heard in Denver, it was you who ruined the marriage.” He laughed when Cade glowered at him. Rose winced when she heard the crack against Phillip’s jaw. “Cade!” she shouted.

  The lawyer dropped to the ground, clasping his cheek. He wiped away the blood on his lip chuckling as he did. “You know why I win so many cases? It is because I can get men to reveal their true selves. Men like you who ride into town parading their masculinity. Everyone falls for them, admires them, without realizing the weaklings they are.”

  “You win because witnesses have a tendency to disappear in the cases you’re involved with.”

  “Cade, please,” she crossed over to Phillip. “I am so sorry Phillip.” She offered to help him, but he shook his head.

  “Thank you, Rose, but I can manage.” He stood up, brushing the dirt off with a smirk. “I am giving you a final warning,” Cade growled.

  Rose snapped her head towards her husband. “Cade, you don’t need to-—”

  “It’s fine, Rose.” Phillip held up his hands. “Have a pleasant evening Rose, Daisy.” He nodded at the two, mounted, and shook the reins of his horse.

  Rose watched Phillip ride away until he was out of earshot before she spun around to face her husband. “What was that?”

  Cade’s eyes pulled away from the fading silhouette of Phillip and rested on Rose. His eyes traveled slowly, deliberately over her, taking in every detail, every curve and line.

  “First, you tell me what this is?” He jerked his head at her.

  Rose frowned, cupping Daisy’s head as she began to nod off. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—” Cade stepped in close, his teeth clenched. “What are you doing out here looking like a darned siren.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “A siren?”

  “Beautiful, salacious,” his eyes lowered to her neck, her collar bone, her … “So edible.”

  Rose swallowed, feeling the heat rise from within her blood to her skin. “Am I not allowed to look nice, Cade?”

  He clicked his tongue, noticing a bloodstain on his shirt. “I have to get that boy’s blood off me.” He turned around and left.

  Rose followed him. “I wasn’t flirting with Phillip, if that is what you think.”

  He barked out a laugh striding to the room where he kept his clothes. Rose hurried to her room laying Daisy peacefully in the crib before returning to Cade who was pulling out another shirt.

  “I know you weren’t flirting, but you sure as anything were enjoying it.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Well, that is natural. For over four years I competed with your habits; of course I am going to like having some attention being paid to me. I am a woman Cade, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  He paused, holding the hem of the bloody shirt before lifting it over his head and taking it off.

  Rose found herself gaping. She and Cade had not seen each other intimately for some time. She’d forgotten what he looked like in his raw form. A broad back glided into a narrow waist with muscles that resembled a washboard. She remembered how it hurt, deliciously so, to be pressed tightly against his chest, while having his corded muscles wrap around her.

  He tilted his head towards her, his longish hair falling over his eyes. “Oh, I noticed.” He slid his eyes over her again. “Don’t wear that dress in public.”

  A fire sparked inside Rose. “You’re telling me how to dress?” Her voice strained at the forced calm.

  He chuckled, and picked up the clean shirt before walking towards her. “I meant what I said to Phillip. I’ve lost you. I know that, and I know it was because of me.” He glanced at her neckline, letting his eyes rest there for a breath before sliding them up to her face. “I’ll fight for you, but I would appreciate you helping me out by not having every pretty-faced boy sniffing around you.” He shook his head and turned away.

  “Cade,” Rose reached out placing her hand on his back. She felt a violent shudder in his muscles before his hand shot out grabbing her wrist. She froze, as did he, as he held her wrist for one, two, three seconds before inclining his head just an inch towards her.

  “Don’t touch me.” The tone in his voice was low and raspy. He let go and quickly put on his shirt. “I need to go out.”

  Rose threw back her head in surprise. “What? But I have dinner I—” I put on my prettiest dress. I made the table look nice for you. You just hit a man for me. And now you’re leaving?

  “I’ll eat when I get home,” he said, his voice clipped.

  Rose felt tears sting her eyes and she hated herself for it. “You’re leaving to go gamble, aren’t you?” She followed him out the door. “To go play the cards and leave me as you have always done.”

  Cade shook his head. “No. I just need to go out.”

  “Please, Cade,” Rose continued to follow him to the barn. “
Please tell me the truth. I beg you to tell me. No more lies; no more secrets.” The words were sour in her mouth.

  Cade turned around, his eyes dark and his hands gripping his belt so hard the knuckles were white. “I promise, Rose,” he said briskly before turning around and hurrying to the barn.

  Rose sighed and walked back to the house. I promise.

  She could not count the times she had been told that. So many times that she had lost count. So many promises had already been broken; tonight would be just one more to add to the list, she thought as she watched him ride away.

  “I can trust You,” Rose breathed out slowly and looked up at the sky. “But I can’t trust him.” She turned away and walked back to the kitchen to eat dinner alone as she had done so many times. “Will I ever be able to trust him?”

  He is my work. You can let go of him, because I have him.

  Thirty–Two

  Cade did not know how long he sat watching people stagger in and out of the saloon. His head throbbed with the desire to go in; just one last game and then he would never do it again.

  “Help me! Help me,” he chanted beneath his breath over and over again. Every nerve in his body was fighting for him to enter the saloon. He had earned it; he needed it.

  Why do you want to gamble? The question forged in his head. Cade did not even have to search for the answer. The past few weeks had been torture; not only was he fighting every day with the desire to play, but it was killing him to watch Rose, smell her, see her, be so near to her and not touch her. Now he wanted her more than ever. He wanted her in his arms. He wanted all of her. Now, he couldn’t believe that he had ever forgotten what she meant to him and how much he loved her.

  When that scoundrel Phillip stopped by, Cade had seen the excitement in her eyes. The novelty of an unsoiled man giving her the compliments that Cade should had given her, making her blush, smile, laugh—all the joys that were by right Cade’s, but which he had squandered.

  He was reminded how fragile their relationship was and how quickly Rose would get swept away were he not careful.

  “Thank Heaven for Daisy,” he said audibly. She was the only thing keeping Rose with him. He smiled thinking how earlier Daisy was sitting up trying so hard to reach for a doll Rose had made her. When she couldn’t, she tried scooting forward on her rear only to fall over. He assumed most babies would cry, but little Daisy’s eyes flashed with determination as she tried over and over again.

  Finally, she’d just yelled, not in sadness but in simple frustration. Cade had walked over and handed her the doll, which she immediately became bored with, and then she wanted Cade to entertain her with funny faces. She was a firecracker, no doubt about that.

  A memory suddenly came to his mind of his own father handing him a toy after telling him not to break it. He told Cade that money did not grow on trees and if Cade were to break the toy, he would be punished. Cade was so excited with the toy train that he played with it all day. He made it run over his bed, down the stairs, across every floor in the house. Finally, he took it outside to examine the intricate parts of the toy. He was fascinated by the detailed wheels and was figuring out how they were screwed in, when he accidently broke off the front two wheels.

  Cade was in tears when his father and mother came home. He ran to his mother sobbing because it was an accident. Although his mother had knelt down to embrace him, it was not five seconds before his father picked him up by the collar and dragged him to his room.

  “No dinner or breakfast,” his father had said sternly. “A good boy does not break things.”

  Cade had cried all night and into the morning. His stomach had gurgled with hunger, and he had slept most of the next day out of exhaustion.

  Cade blinked back tears as a dam of similar memories filled his mind. His mother often cried with him, but she was too afraid of her husband’s loud voice to say a thing. Everything was about being good: go to church or else, don’t spill or else, tuck in your shirt or else ….

  Cade shook his head. He loved his father; he knew his father was a good man, but he was so stern. Cade could not imagine making Daisy go hungry because she had accidentally broken a toy. He would never do that to her. Another memory popped into Cade’s head: it was of the first time he had gambled and felt the burn of whiskey in his throat.

  Father would hate me doing this, had been his first thought. It had been a sweet rebellion from the confines of imposed righteousness and virtue forced upon him by his father.

  Cade blinked, feeling stunned as he stared at the saloon. Rebellion, sweet and liberating, the promise of freedom through gambling and drinking—a promise that now had its hand tightly around his throat squeezing and pressing whenever he ignored its call.

  Cade stood up. It was late, but not too late. He practically ran to the stables and led out his horse. Something flickered in his chest, an understanding that those memories were not by chance. Sending up a prayer of gratitude, Cade rode hard and fast down the west road to Castle Dairy. It was a cool night, despite the summer day’s heat, and the cleansing air whipped against Cade’s skin with sweet relief.

  He rode past the stalls and sheds to the far pasture where a comfortable home sat among weeded beds of flowers. Cade frowned at the three large dogs now standing alert on the porch. One growled threateningly, and Cade could see movement through the front window.

  “Clark?” Jeffries called out and opened the front door. His keen eyes focused in on Cade. “Mr. Walker, how are you this evening?”

  Cade nodded to the dogs. “I thought they slept indoors.”

  Jeffries shook his head. “Some time ago Rose asked me to keep a lookout on the dairy. Miss Meg had a fright.” He nodded for Cade to come in. “I’ll finish the tale inside. I have some cider Miss Meg made for me.”

  When Cade lifted his brows in surprise, as Jeffries laughed. “Pure apple cider, Mr. Walker. I truly doubt Miss Meg is into making moonshine.”

  Cade slid from his horse and tied him off before walking past the three dogs now quiet after sensing he was no danger. Jeffries led him to the small kitchen where he pulled out another mug. “Miss Meg says to add a dollop of cream and a bit of cinnamon.” He smiled and followed the instructions. “That woman is a wizard in the kitchen, I tell you.”

  Cade thanked him for the cider and lowered himself in a chair. “Rose adores that girl. Meg, I mean. She visits her often and finds every excuse to come to the dairy.”

  Jeffries chuckled and joined Cade at the table. “I overheard Rose telling Meg that it was you who was always gone. She said she thought you were avoiding her.”

  At Cade’s silence, Jeffries raised an eyebrow. “Are you avoiding her?”

  Cade took a sip of the sweet cider: tart apple intermingled with cream, enhanced by the cinnamon. “I hate seeing her disappointment, Jeffries. When I look into her eyes, I see no love or admiration. Instead, I see a woman who feels trapped out of loyalty, a woman who does not respect me as a husband, father, or man.”

  Jeffries nodded with understanding. “And seeing her like that makes it harder to not gamble.”

  Cade clicked his tongue. “Being that she looks so darn good doesn’t exactly make it easier.”

  Jeffries laughed and strummed the table. “So, why then, are you not out gambling right now? Did you want to?”

  Cade’s eyes darkened. The gambling he loved was now an enemy lurking in his life, waiting to take him away from everything he held dear. “I did want to. I sat outside of the saloon, imagining the games I could play. I justified as to why I should go in, but then …” he stopped and sucked a tooth before taking another long drink of his cider.

  Jeffries waited patiently. He knew this kind of talk for a man was like extracting a limb, painful and resistant.

  Cade set down the cup and forced his gaze on Jeffries. “You know how you’ve been telling me to pray and ask God why I gamble.”

  Jeffries nodded slowly.

  “I thought it was a fool’s errand at first. I
didn’t think there was any reason, other than my own free will, that caused me to gamble.”

  Jeffries tilted his head and asked softly, “Did you get an answer?”

  Cade went on to explain his experiences with his father and how he realized they had led him to gambling. “I am not trying to put this on my father and justify my habits,” he added. “I am trying not to do that, as I did to Rose.”

  “No one forces us Cade,” Jeffries agreed. “But the master deceiver lies in wait, seeking opportunities to entrap us.”

  Cade frowned. “What was your entrapment?”

  Jeffries exhaled in a quick burst of air. “Camille. My daughter.” He blinked rapidly and scooted his cup away from him before leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “She was a lovely thing with large eyes and full lips, and she was the light of my life. I actually wanted to move with her here to Colorado, but we could not afford it. We worked hard though, day and night. I did not like her working at the pub—too many men wanting something from her. I asked her to quit, but serving was all she knew how to do, or so she claimed.” He paused, sucking in his bottom lip. “One night she did not come home, nor the next. I was frantic and tried to get the police involved, but I am sure you can imagine how helpful they were.”

  Cade grimaced with compassion.

  “They found her body a week later. She’d been murdered.” Tears prickled Jeffries eyes and he leaned back. “They thought it was me at first. She’d been killed in a ceremonious way, and the police assumed it was my kind.”

  Cade cocked a brow.

  “Black,” Jeffries clarified. “In those parts folk still worshipped as they did in the motherland of Africa.”

  “Voodoo?” Cade asked.

  Jeffries shrugged. “I suppose. Myself, I never knew much about it. Personally I think some man tried advances on Camille and she refused—something a white man could not accept from a black woman.”

  Cade inwardly shuddered. Would that happen to Daisy? Would men assume things? Would they try to take from her what did not belong to them? He felt his fists clench involuntarily. So as long as he was around, he would make sure that men respected Daisy, even if he had to crack a few heads to ensure it.