My Heart's Desire

by Wendy Lindstrom

  Duke returned to her side. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She clasped his strong hand, immensely grateful to have him with her. She may have been frozen with fear, but Duke would have protected her and the children.

  “Should I take you home?” he asked.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t spoil the day for Adam and Cora, “Let’s go watch the show.”

  Her legs quaked as they crossed the fairground and found a seat in the stands. Adam and Cora were quickly captivated by the tumblers and jugglers. The equestrian act followed, with trick riders who rode standing on their horses’ backs.

  “Evelyn and Rebecca can do that,” Duke said to Adam and Cora. “I’ll take you by sometime to watch them ride.”

  “Can I ride a pony too?” Cora asked.

  “If your mother says it’s all right.”

  Faith put her fingers over Cora’s mouth before the girl could ask. “We’ll talk about it later. Watch the show, sweetheart.”

  Adam and Cora shifted their attention back to the show where a clown was getting chased by a bull. The clown threw his floppy hat in the air and leapt over a barrel, making Adam grin, and sending Cora into a fit of giggles. Faith exchanged a look with Duke, needing his solid presence and the security he gave her.

  “Sorry about the pony,” he mouthed.

  “You’re spoiling her,” she mouthed back.

  He smiled. “I can’t resist.”

  She felt her own lips twist. “I know.”

  “I’m glad you said yes today,” he said quietly.

  “Me too.” She was glad for many reasons. Cora and Adam needed the treat. She needed to see them happy. And she needed to see Duke as a mate and a father, and as a man who could love and protect them.

  While the circus went on around them, Faith and Duke exchanged private smiles that said they were happy to be spending the day together.

  Adam’s burst of laughter not only startled her, it shocked her. Cora giggled wildly at two clowns in the ring, pretending to be boxers, taking wild swings at each other, pummeling each other’s red noses, stumbling, falling, and popping back up like puppies. The crowd roared with laughter, but it was hearing Adam’s laugh that was Faith’s most treasured moment of the day.

  Six o’clock that evening, Duke returned Faith and the children home. He couldn’t have been more tired if he’d chased Arthur Covey across three counties, but the joy on Faith’s face made the ache in his shoulder and the exhaustion in his body worthwhile. Cora darted inside the building they were living in, with the bulging sack of peanut brittle he hadn’t been able to resist buying her.

  “Look what we got, Aunt Iris!” she called.

  “Thank you for taking us to the circus, sir.” Adam bobbed his head at Duke then stepped inside. Duke expected the boy to keep going, especially since Adam had seen MacEnroy and Wayne Archer talking to him in the park after church that morning, but the boy turned back. “The ice cream was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” He scooted inside then, leaving Duke alone with Faith.

  She looked tired, but far happier than she’d been that morning. “I’ve never been to a circus,” she said. “Thank you for the memorable experience.”

  Cora skidded to a stop in the open doorway. “Thank you, Sheriff Grayson, for taking me on a train ride and to the circus and for getting me a pork sandwich and ice cream and peanut brittle, and for the ride on the elephant and...” She scrunched her face and thought for a moment. “And for letting me sit on your shoulders to see the clowns ride the ponies.”

  He laughed because she was such a little blabbermouth and because her enthusiasm and the awe in her eyes was so real.

  “You’re welcome, princess. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time,” he said, wanting more days like this, more time with Faith and her family, and hopefully more time alone with Faith.

  Iris stood behind Cora in the doorway. “I just made a pot of vegetable soup, Sheriff. It won’t be your best meal, but you’re welcome to stay for supper.”

  A look of horror replaced the smile on Faith’s face. “I’m not eating,” she said. “I mean, I thought I would treat your shoulder now.”

  Before Duke could answer, Iris pushed the door wide open. “This man took you to the circus today. The least we can do is feed him his supper—even if it isn’t much.”

  Duke didn’t want to make their meal any lighter by eating part of it, but Faith, who looked ill, stepped inside and left the door open for him. He stepped in behind her and understood immediately why Faith didn’t want him here. The room was barren, and the only piece of furniture was the table.

  Iris waved him toward makeshift benches, unashamed. “Pull up a barrel, Sheriff, and make yourself at home.”

  Faith gasped, her embarrassment so acute it moved him to pity, not because of the condition of her home, but because her poverty shamed her so deeply.

  “You can sit with me on my board, Sheriff Grayson,” Cora said without a drop of concern as she galloped to the table.

  Duke lifted the little girl onto the wide board laid across two flour barrels. “Did you design this bench?” he asked, wanting to ease Faith’s discomfort.

  “Adam made it,” Cora said.

  Duke nodded to Aster, Tansy, and Dahlia as he swung his legs over the plank and sat down. He bounced on the board. “Good choice of wood, son. Nice and solid. I chose pine slabs from my dad’s sawmill for my first tree stand.”

  “What’s that?” the boy asked, looking confused as he sat on a barrel at the end of the table.

  “It’s a little platform you put in a tree. You nail a few boards together and secure it in a tree so you can sit up there and watch for deer.” Duke accepted a bowl of soup from Iris. “Thank you,” he said, purposely keeping his eyes off Faith while placing the full bowl in front of him. “I was your age when I made my first tree stand,” he said to Adam. “It was dead winter, and I was sitting in that stand when I heard this cracking noise. I couldn’t figure out what it was. Just then I spotted a brown bear twenty feet away walking right toward me. I thought he was snapping twigs beneath the snow.”

  Adam’s spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “Did you shoot him?”

  Duke shook his head and dipped his spoon into his soup. “That cracking noise was coming from the boards I was sitting on. They snapped in half and I fell. When I hit the ground, my rifle discharged and blew the stand right out of the tree.”

  Adam burst into wild laughter, and Duke congratulated himself for the small achievement. Faith’s aunts were smiling, but he still wouldn’t allow himself to look at Faith. He took a bite of his soup. It was tasty but meatless, and he was certain the lack of meat wasn’t from choice. Maybe this is why Iris had encouraged him to stay, so he could see how poorly they were living. Maybe he wasn’t the only one making judgments. Iris didn’t strike him as a woman who would seek sympathy or charity. Maybe she just wanted to see if he was the kind of man who could love a woman who had nothing but herself to offer.

  “Did the bear get you?” Cora asked, her eyes bugging with fear.

  “Naw,” he said. “The gunshot scared him away. But I remembered to use a good, thick piece of hardwood after that.”

  “I saw a bear behind our house once,” Adam said. “He was trying to crawl in our window. When I asked what he was doing, he said he was looking for Cora.”

  Duke felt his mouth quirk, but Adam took a spoonful of soup with a straight face.

  “That’s me.” Cora tapped her spoon against her chest. “He was coming to see me.”

  Adam backhanded his mouth, and Duke suspected the boy was wiping away a smile. “The bear said he wanted to take you for a ride, Cora, but I told him you would only ride ponies.”

  Cora looked at Duke, her eyes wide and serious. “Would the bear bite me if I rode him?”

  Thankfully he’d played these games with Rebecca and his nephews, so he answered with care. “A real bear probably would, so I wouldn’t be too friendly with one. But a s
torybook bear might give you a ride on his back.” He shrugged. “It’s probably safer to ride a pony”

  “I’m going to ride my pony to church someday,” she said, her voice so wistful he wanted to go right to Radford and Evelyn’s livery and buy her that pony she longed for.

  He looked at Faith and saw that same desire reflected in her face. She lowered her lashes and dipped her spoon in her soup bowl.

  “Is a bear bigger than a pony?” Cora asked.

  “I think it weighs more,” Adam answered, and the meal progressed with Cora asking questions and making them forget they were eating meatless soup and sitting on barrels and planks.

  When they finished, Faith kissed the top of Cora’s head. “Sheriff Grayson and I are going to the greenhouse so I can put some balm on his shoulder. Help clear the table, and maybe Aunt Dahlia will read with you until I come back.”

  Duke followed Faith outside, but stopped her near the door. “You don’t have to bother with my shoulder tonight. You must be exhausted.”

  “It’s been a week since I’ve stretched your muscles.”

  “I’ve been doing it myself.”

  “Are you getting the same amount of stretch?”

  “No.”

  “Then we’d better do it tonight before we lose the progress we made last week.”

  Even though he’d been stretching each night until he howled from pain, he could feel the muscles tightening up again. Faith’s treatment might have felt like torture, but he’d started seeing some results before he’d left for Mayville.

  They crossed the yard and entered the humid world of her greenhouse. When she reached for a stack of linens on the shelf, he caught her hand. “I’ll skip the bath tonight.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely,” he said then followed her back to the bathhouse. He sat on the table and removed his shirt.

  She stood behind him, slathering an herb-scented oil over his shoulders and back. “I can do a better job when you’re lying down.”

  He stretched out on the towels she’d spread on the table. They were both silent, listening to the condensation drip off the water faucet while she massaged the muscles in his neck and shoulders. Sighing, he forced his thoughts to Adam’s scuffle with the Archer children last week. He debated telling her. She had more worries than she deserved, but she was Adam’s guardian and should be aware of a situation that could grow worse if not dealt with.

  “Has Adam mentioned having any trouble at school?” he asked, hoping the boy had told her.

  Her fingers clamped on his shoulders. “No. Why?”

  “It seems he got in a scuffle with a couple other children last week.” Duke pushed to his elbows and turned so he could see her. “One of those men I was talking with after church this morning was Ike MacEnroy, Adam’s teacher. MacEnroy broke up a commotion in the school yard last Monday, and said Adam was disrespectful to him.”

  “He’s never been disrespectful to anyone, including me.”

  “I’m repeating what MacEnroy told me,” he said. “He didn’t seem that upset over the incident, and I suspect the man admires Adam’s intelligence. Archer was the one demanding that I punish Adam for attacking his children, Melissa and Nicholas.”

  Faith gasped. “Adam would never attack a person unless they were threatening to harm one of us.”

  Duke couldn’t picture Adam attacking anyone either. Especially if unprovoked. Those scratch marks on Nicholas’s neck didn’t come from Adam. “Archer’s story is one-sided. Since Adam hasn’t told you about this, don’t mention it to him just yet. I want to confirm the story with my niece Rebecca, who was also involved then I’ll talk to Adam.”

  Faith leaned her hip against the table. “So this is why Adam avoided you today.” She buried her face in her hands. “What next? I can’t handle another problem.”

  She looked exhausted. And scared. Duke pushed to his hip and swung his legs off the table so he was sitting upright. He put his arms around her and pulled her down sit beside him. “Let me handle it with Adam. I’ll be fair. You know that.”

  She sighed and lowered her forehead to his shoulder. “I could get used to having you around.”

  And he could get used to holding her in his arms.

  “Duke?”

  He liked the sleepy softness of her voice.

  “I changed my mind about the sword swallower being the best show.”

  He’d forgotten the circus.

  “The clowns were the best.”

  He stroked her back, pleased that the clowns had made Cora and Adam laugh, but even more pleased that they’d made Faith forget her troubles for a while.

  “Thank you for taking us to the circus today,” she said.

  “I should be thanking you,” he replied sincerely. “This is the best day I’ve had in... I don’t know how long.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Faith was in the house folding clothes with Iris when someone knocked on the door.

  “If that’s Adam or Cora clowning with us, I’ll hang them on the clothesline,” Iris said, heading to the door.

  Faith smiled and shook her head. If it was one of the children, Iris would wrangle a kiss or a hug from them before sending them back to play. For all her starch, Iris was a softie.

  When she opened the door, a man nearly as tall and wide-shouldered as Duke stood on the doorstep, looking like an overgrown farm boy in denim jeans and a blue cambric shirt. He wasn’t catch-your-breath handsome like Duke or his brothers, but his boyish good looks brought a spark to Iris’s eyes that put Faith on guard.

  “Well, well, well.” Iris smiled and leaned against the door frame. “Are you lost, farm boy?”

  His gaze took her in at a glance and he grinned. This handsome, overgrown farm boy wasn’t looking to buy anything; he was here to sell. To Iris.

  He braced his muscled forearm against the door frame and gave her a wolfish smile. “I’ve been waiting all my life to knock on a door and find you on the other side.” he said.

  In all the years Faith had known Iris, no man had ever left her speechless. Until now. Until this stranger brazenly leaned in her door with that honest face and those blue eyes that declared Iris his even before asking her name.

  He tilted his head. “Are you not telling me your name for any particular reason?”

  Iris lifted her chin, but Faith could see her aunt was rattled. “I’m Iris Wilde—with an ‘e’.”

  He chuckled, “Well, Iris Wilde with an ‘e’, are you married?”

  “I’ve never found a man worth marrying.”

  “Well, you’ve found him now, Miss Wilde. I’m Patrick Lyons. I suppose you’ll want to be courted before we marry?”

  Faith nearly gasped aloud. What a rascal!

  But Iris seemed to like his too-forward outrageous manner, because she laughed. “Mr. Lyons, what are you delivering to my door other than blarney?”

  He glanced at Faith then leaned closer. “It’s Pat, or Patrick, if you prefer. I have a delivery for Faith Wilkins.”

  Faith lowered her lashes, embarrassed that she’d been shamelessly eavesdropping. But with that heated introduction, how could she not?

  “Oh... of course,” Iris said, but Faith heard the disappointment in her voice. She obviously liked the man and enjoyed his flirting. Too much, by Faith’s measure. Iris had promised to behave herself, but that promise had flown on the wind the minute Patrick Lyons had come knocking.

  Faith waited for someone to speak to her, but the odd silence made her lift her head. Both Iris and Patrick were gone.

  Ridiculously curious, she went to the door. To her shock, a wagon stacked five feet high with lumber was being backed toward the house by a team of the biggest horses she’d ever seen. When the driver stopped the wagon near the door, she ducked back inside.

  Patrick came in carrying an armload of planks, followed by Iris, who seemed very pleased by his attention.

  “Afternoon, ma’am,” Patrick said with a nod at Faith. “Mind i
f I use this empty corner?”

  “I’m Mrs. Wilkins, and I didn’t order lumber,” Faith said.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wilkins, but Sheriff Grayson said to deliver it here.”

  “You know the sheriff?” she asked.

  “He and his brothers are my best friends.” Patrick nodded to the corner. “Mind if I put this down before I strain something important?”

  Iris laughed. “Go ahead. That corner has been lacking something from the day we moved in.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “I like you, Iris Wilde with an ‘e’.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Lyons.” She gave him a flirtatious smile that made Faith’s heart hammer with fear. What on earth was Iris thinking? Flirting with a stranger, especially a man who knew the sheriff, was appallingly inappropriate.

  Another similarly dressed man carried in an armload of fresh-smelling wood. He stood three inches shorter than Patrick, who was a big man, and was lean with sinewy forearms and a weathered face that suggested he was at least forty.

  “This is Cyrus Darling,” Patrick said, pausing to introduce him to Faith and Iris.

  The man set down the wood then tipped his cap to greet them.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Darling,” Faith said.

  Iris gave a pleasant nod, but a smile broke across her red lips and she winked at Faith. “I can just hear Tansy greeting Mr. Daaahlin’.”

  “Awful name for a man to be stuck with,” Cyrus said, “but I’ve owned it for forty-five years and suppose I can survive a few more years of taunts and grins.” The man radiated kindness and a quiet serenity that told Faith he was not only comfortable being alone, he preferred it.

  “Why, Mista Daaahlin’ sounds like a perfectly handy name to me,” Iris said, mimicking Tansy’s southern drawl, and horrifying Faith. “Cyrus, dahlin’, thank you for carrying in that wood. If I were your wife, dahlin’, I’d tell you to forget the wood and give me some sugar.”

  Pat’s hoot, and Cyrus’s chuckle, interrupted Iris’s performance, but Faith stewed. Her aunt had promised to act like a lady, but here she was flirting like a prostitute with not one but two men!