by Karen Kirst
Noah seized her wrist, and she gasped, her wide gaze shooting to his. “Enough, city girl,” he ground out.
Her mouth parted, drawing his attention to the tiny freckle above her curved upper lip. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Forget Pete Lyle or any other man.
“Why do you smell like lavender and honey?”
The question startled him. “You noticed that, huh?”
She nodded, light sparkling off her hairpins.
“The doctor who treated me suggested I use the combination on my damaged skin to keep it supple. It gets tight and uncomfortable if I don’t.” Still holding her wrist captive, he ran his thumb back and forth over the soft skin.
“You should be proud of your scars, Noah. Your actions were those of a hero.”
He dropped her arm as if it burned him. “Have you ever considered I did what I did as penance for Teddy?” he scoffed.
“I don’t think that’s the true reason. I think you tell yourself that in order to continue feeling guilty. Because, in your mind, you don’t deserve to be hailed a hero. You don’t deserve happiness or a family of your own. That’s why you use your disfigurement to keep everyone away.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
High-pitched screams pierced the air. Stark fear arrested Constance’s features a second before she bolted for the door. Running a single step behind her, he registered Wolf’s warning barks, the girls’ obvious terror and the six-foot-long snake slithering through the grass. His heart thundered in his chest. Kansas was home to its fair share of poisonous snakes. He couldn’t see its pattern from his vantage point.
Noah shouted a warning, but Constance ignored him. Running full-out for the girls, she put herself in between them and the reptile, yelling for them to go to the cabin. Time slowed as the snake, as thick as his calf muscle, coiled into a strike position.
Constance was minutes away from injury and possible death, and he experienced fear unlike the kind he’d known on the battlefields staring down cannon fire and Confederate bayonets. Then, he’d dreaded the unknown...pain and suffering...doing the wrong thing and letting his men down. The terror fizzing through his veins now was different. It weighed down his feet, slowed his thoughts, drove home just how important this woman had become to him. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer.
“Constance, stop!”
It was as if the sound of her name didn’t faze her.
Catching up, he snagged her arm and jerked her back against him. She struggled. “The girls—”
He kept his gaze trained on the snake, whose tongue was testing the air, weighing the threat. “They’re out of harm’s way.” He pressed his mouth close to her ear. “Please, be still.”
The girls were crying on the porch, the sounds tugging at his heartstrings. Wolf continued to bark, unhappy about the intruder and about to pounce.
“Wolf, stay.” He threw out his hand.
The giant animal seemed to roll his golden eyes in frustration. His barking ceased, but his lips were curled back to reveal sharp canines.
“Constance? Are you listening to me?”
She’d gone quiet in his hold, her whole body trembling, her breaths coming in short bursts. She nodded.
“This snake is as unhappy as we are. What I want you to do is back away slowly. Go stand with the girls on the porch. Stay there.”
“What about you? And Wolf?” The concern for his well-being throbbing in her voice warmed the part of him that had gone cold.
“We’ll be fine. I’ve got my gun.”
While she retreated, Noah studied the snake’s pattern. He eased closer. The shape of his head and the slits in his eyes indicated it was poisonous. He had to kill it in order to keep the girls and Constance safe.
“Go inside,” he called.
When the main door slammed shut, he removed his weapon and fired, wishing it had been harmless and he could’ve let it go.
Constance’s earlier words about war scrolled through his mind. Life was full of hard choices. Regrettable choices. Every action had consequences. He was pretty sure not one man who’d served, either for the North or South, had emerged from the war unscathed. They’d all been changed. Altered forever. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
For the first time since his discharge, he had hope God would heal his broken places, would help him shed the guilt he carried.
That hope did not extend to his relationship with Constance. He wasn’t good enough for a woman like her—brave, sincere, compassionate, pure. She deserved someone better than him. Someone who could be what she needed.
* * *
“Some of us aren’t convinced you’re giving enough attention to our problem.”
Wade Claxton, the owner of the saddle shop, stared down his long nose at Noah, who was seated behind his desk.
Noah’s chair creaked as he shifted and pulled a sheaf of papers from the top-right drawer. “These are mine and Sheriff Davis’s notes on the fake deeds. You’re welcome to pore over the information if you think you can come up with a lead we overlooked.”
Frustration fired through him. Claxton was right. Between dealing with matters on the ranch, breaking up brawls and navigating townsfolk’s petty grievances, he had his hands full. And he didn’t know how to proceed in this case. He’d interviewed the man at the land office again, as well as the affected business owners. They lacked a suspect and motive. To what end would someone replace the authentic deeds with false ones? What did that person stand to gain?
Every crime in Cowboy Creek couldn’t be pinned on the Murdochs.
The man’s weathered face reflected impatience. “That’s not my job. I’ve a shop to run.”
His hinted accusation didn’t go unnoticed. For probably the hundredth time, Noah questioned why he’d ever agreed to be sheriff. He was a rancher, not a lawman. The folks of this town were counting on him to solve their problems, and he was afraid he was bound to let them down.
Constance was the only one who’d looked past the badge and asked him if what he was doing made him happy.
“I’ll post a meeting for tonight. Six o’clock at the Cattleman. We’ll put our heads together and try to come up with answers. Could be it’s the same person responsible for burning that first shipment of lumber and tossing Will’s rooms.”
The shop owner’s lips thinned, but he jerked a nod. “I’ll spread the word.”
After Wade had gone, Noah stationed himself at one of the wide windows facing Eden Street. A young lad left the newspaper office next door lugging a stack of the Herald’s latest edition. Prudence Haywood crossed the street and, ignoring the men doffing their hats and grinning like fools, ducked into Hannah’s dress shop. Odd that she’d come to Cowboy Creek in search of a husband but hadn’t deigned to spend time with any potential suitors. Hannah hadn’t been interested in anyone because of a hidden pregnancy. What was Prudence’s excuse?
Across the way, the hotel bustled with activity. Milk and food deliveries were made every day at this time. Simon, the young hotel porter, was speaking to a worker washing the windows while another man swept the boardwalk. Daniel’s father, Oliver Gardner, who’d decided to settle here after Leah arranged for a surprise visit, escorted Valentine Ewing through the main entrance and set his bowler atop his head, no doubt having treated her to a sumptuous breakfast. Romance had been brewing between the two since the moment they’d met.
He was about to return to his desk when Daniel and Will turned onto the boardwalk and approached, deep in conversation. Excitement marked Will’s definitive gestures.
“We have news, my friend.” He waved a paper in front of Noah’s nose. “The Webster County representative is coming next week for a final inspection of our town. His name’s Gregory McAllister. Depending on what he finds here, he could decide to make Cowboy Creek the offi
cial county seat.”
Daniel closed the door behind him and checked that the cells were empty. “If Mr. McAllister finds out about our growing list of unsolved crimes, I’m not convinced he’ll choose us.”
Noah went and sat on the desk’s ledge, crossing his arms as he glanced at both men. “I’m meeting with the property owners tonight in hopes that, between the lot of us, we’ll come up with a solid theory concerning the deeds. Maybe we’ll solve at least one of these mysteries before this man arrives.”
Will stuffed the paper in his coat’s pocket. “That still leaves the poisoned cattle, sabotaged lumber shipments and the attempt to steal railroad funds from my room.”
“We’re not required to present him with a list of every single issue we’re dealing with here.” Daniel looked thoughtful. “No town is crime-free.”
Will ran his fingers along his trim goatee. “Good point.”
“We could be Mr. McAllister’s personal guides,” Noah said.
“Tomasina and I will host him in our home,” Will offered. “What if we have a grand party to welcome him to town? He can be introduced to some of the business leaders and permanent residents.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “I think that’s the best plan.”
“And what if one of the partygoers mentions our recent troubles?”
Noah despised this aspect of town leadership. He longed to be on his land—tending his cattle, mending fences, tinkering in his vegetable garden or carving something out of wood.
Pacing, his cane thwacking the floor, Will shook his head. “It’s not right to order them to keep quiet. However, if we stress how important it is that we cast our town in the best possible light, they’ll understand the need for restraint.”
Daniel slapped his knees and stood. “Now that that’s settled, we can turn to the next order of business. Is Constance willing to see Pete Lyle again?”
Noah’s mood soured. “You’ll have to ask her. From what little I gleaned, she’s not interested in him.”
“Okay.” Removing a folded paper from his pocket, he borrowed a pencil from the desk and marked a line through Pete’s name.
“You carry that everywhere you go?”
Noah scowled at the list of men who had a chance of winning the one woman who’d breached his defenses and made him care about more than himself.
“I have to,” he exclaimed. “You wouldn’t believe how many times a day I’m approached by fellows wanting to know who’s next in line. It’s exhausting.” He pointed the pencil at him. “Unless you’d care to take over the task?”
“No thanks.” Standing, he edged away. This was difficult enough without having to orchestrate her outings.
“Looks like Colton Bailey’s day is about to get better.” Refolding the paper, he headed for the door. “I’m going to deliver the happy news. Tell Constance to expect a visit from him.”
Noah was quiet as his friends let themselves out. For the sake of his sanity, he hoped she fell for Bailey on the first try. They could have a quick wedding. He’d be free of her then, both her and the girls. They’d be Bailey’s responsibility, not his.
Goodbye, trouble. Hello, solitude.
Chapter Fifteen
Weddings weren’t supposed to be sad. This one wasn’t. The bride and groom were ecstatic, almost giddy with joy as they repeated their vows. When Hannah’s father, Reverend Taggart, proclaimed them husband and wife, James Johnson swooped in to claim a kiss. Hannah blushed scarlet, her sweet smile poignant and tear-inducing.
Hannah Taggart Johnson had a healthy baby, an adoring husband and a new business venture. Grace hoped she recognized and cherished those blessings. Not everyone was so fortunate.
She hated feeling sorry for herself on a day like today, but Grace couldn’t help the sorrow rendering her heart sore and heavy. Not so long ago, she’d boarded a train, uncaring who was waiting at her journey’s end. The name Noah Burgess had meant nothing to her. The prospect of a loveless marriage hadn’t bothered her, so intent had she been on escaping the city and her brother-in-law, and procuring a husband who could provide protection.
She risked a glance at the handsome, stoic man seated beside her. Noah in his cowboy gear was enough to make her breathless, but gazing upon him now, in a tailored navy suit that hugged his muscular build and complemented his fair hair and sun-bronzed skin, had her struggling with foolish yearnings.
Spending time with the man described in Will’s letter had skewed her outlook. He’d gone from being a vague concept to a flesh-and-blood human being. Noah had turned out to be a man of contrasts...strong and implacable on the outside, hurting and lonely on the inside...a tough, hardworking, honorable lawman who held her hair while she was sick, read to her beneath the moonlight, tended to two little girls’ needs without complaint. She wasn’t thinking practical thoughts anymore. Time and distance had dimmed her worry about Frank, making way for more fanciful ideals. A marriage for protection’s sake wasn’t enough anymore.
As Hannah and James walked the grassy aisle hand in hand, eager to embark on their life together, Grace acknowledged she wanted love. She wanted affection. And she wanted it with Noah.
Bowing her head, she closed her eyes for a brief moment as the truth suffused her with the wonder of first love. Here she was, a twenty-six-year-old widow with children, discovering authentic love for the first time in her life. What she was feeling wasn’t grounded in false reality. Unlike Ambrose, Noah hadn’t tried to impress her or woo her with flashy gifts. Quite the opposite. He’d repeatedly warned her away, listing his weaknesses. Told her point-blank he didn’t want her.
“Constance? Time for refreshments and cake.”
His low, rich baritone washed over her, and she relived those moments in his cabin when she’d dared explore his scars.
It’s Grace. Not Constance.
Opening her eyes, she saw that the guests were leaving the chairs set up in Daniel and Leah’s garden and meandering to the multiple tables on loan from the hotel, all of them covered in white tablecloths and set with rose-emblazoned china dishes. Three tables beneath the trees held trays of sumptuous meats and vegetables. The newlyweds were already stationed behind the three-tiered cake festooned with fresh berries, seemingly lost in a world all their own. Nearby, Tomasina held a sleeping Ava in her arms, swaying slightly while Will leaned in to caress the infant’s cheek.
The aspiring politician and rodeo star made a striking picture, his dark hair and debonair good looks combined with her lush figure and flame-red curls. Grace wondered if Will and Tomasina would start a family soon like Daniel and Leah.
Both of Noah’s friends had found true, abiding love with their spouses. Did that make him feel left out?
As he escorted her without speaking to the food tables, she sensed tension in him, like a bowstring drawn tight and primed to fire. Was it the wedding having this effect on him? His sheriff’s duties troubling him? Or something else entirely?
He led her to his friends, and she missed the reassuring heat of his hand on her back as soon as he removed it.
Tomasina smiled and winked. “You look exceptional today, Constance. That shade of ice blue is lovely on you. Don’t you agree, Noah?”
Will hid a smile by dipping his head. Noah gave a clipped nod, his gaze scanning the milling wedding guests. “Constance always looks beautiful.”
Grace’s tummy did a somersault. Sure, he’d been forced into complimenting her, but there was an inflection in his voice that hinted at sincerity.
Daniel and Leah strolled up and, after a few words of greeting, the men separated themselves and went to speak to Gideon Kendricks, who was standing close to Pippa on the house’s rear porch. Pippa went up on tiptoes to inspect a bruise on his cheek, one he must’ve garnered in the same brawl Noah had gotten injured in. He’d related how, once again, the train rep ha
d pitched in to help without prompting. She could tell Noah highly respected the man.
“Jane and Abigail look as pretty as a picture today in their matching pink dresses,” Leah said.
Grace automatically scanned the property for them, finding them beside the cake table, where they watched the newlywed couple and chatted with another little girl their age from an outlying ranch.
“Would you believe Noah fixed their hair?”
Tomasina gaped. “I can’t picture that!”
Leah’s fine eyebrows lifted an inch. “I didn’t realize he knew how.”
“He has three younger sisters,” Grace explained. “I’d intended to do their customary curls, but they insisted they wanted braids, and they wanted Noah to do it.”
“The three of you have been good for him.” Still cradling the baby close to her body, the redhead gazed at the men with furrowed brow. “I wish he’d cease being stubborn and admit Will did the right thing bringing you here.”
Leah nodded and fiddled with her dragonfly brooch. “He barely spoke to me when I first arrived. Gradually, he relaxed his guard.” She touched Grace’s sleeve. “Do you have a moment? I’d love to show you what Noah made for the baby.”
Grace agreed, her curiosity piqued. On their way to the house, the reverend waylaid them and took his granddaughter from Tomasina, a proud grin on his face. Inside the quiet home, their footfalls seemed loud as they climbed the grand staircase and followed Leah along the hall and into the sunny nursery.
“Isn’t it delightful?” Leah went straight for the dresser and a hand-carved ark complete with painted animal pairs. She picked up an elephant and lifted it for them to inspect. “He’s incredibly talented. I can’t imagine how long it took for him to do all this.”
Grace ran her fingers along the ark’s top, amazed at his workmanship, which rivaled the toys she’d seen in Chicago shops.
“He certainly is,” she murmured, a dart of wistfulness burrowing into her heart.
It wasn’t difficult to picture him bent over a tiny animal sculpture, paintbrush in hand, his eyes squinting at the corners as he worked. She would very much like to see his process from start to finish. Did he sketch drawings first or create from mental images? If only he’d felt comfortable enough to share this private part of himself.
