The Bounty Hunter's Bride

by Victoria Bylin

  Stifling that memory, he sat in the surrey, waiting for stragglers to pass before he lifted the reins. The last couple went inside the building, but no one closed the door. When the pianist struck the opening chords of “Blessed Assurance,” Beau sat paralyzed. The hymn carried him beyond the moment, beyond his hate. When the music ended, a man read a Psalm filled with utter anguish. Beau understood every word. When it ended, the pianist struck a ponderous chord. Beau recognized “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” He’d always liked that hymn. He found himself mouthing the words until the last note.

  In the sudden silence, he heard Josh’s deep voice.

  “Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of His servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light?”

  Beau felt a chill. He’d feared God his entire life. He’d obeyed the Lord’s commands, yet here he was…walking in darkness with no light.

  Josh kept going.

  “Let him trust in the name of the Lord and stay upon his God.”

  Beau held in a curse. He’d trusted God and where had it gotten him? In the weeks after Lucy’s murder, he’d prayed every day. He’d waited for God to bring justice and received nothing. Beau wanted to leave, but Josh’s voice had the same quality as the familiar hymns. It struck chords that rang true. Instead of lifting the reins, Beau stared at the open door.

  “Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks.”

  How many fires had Beau kindled on the open trail? At least a thousand, maybe more. Alone, he’d stared into the blaze, imagining the moment he’d find Clay Johnson. Those flames had encircled his soul.

  Josh deepened his voice.

  “Walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of Mine hand; ye shall lie down in torment.”

  Rage poured through Beau’s veins. He’d walked by the light of his own fire for five years, but only because God hadn’t given him so much as a matchstick to light the way. At night, when Beau had lain devastated on the hard ground, God hadn’t done a thing to help him. The stars had winked in the cold sky, reminding him that somewhere Clay Johnson was seeing the sky and Lucy wasn’t.

  Beau stared at the church. The white boards glistened in the sun, forcing him to squint. Who needed a God that would whitewash a murder? Not Beau. Before Josh could utter another word, Beau picked up the reins. As soon as he married Dani, he’d be riding out. He needed supplies, so he headed for town.

  Dani had come to church needing a special touch. For three days, she’d agonized over Beau’s proposal. She could justify a marriage in name only in her mind, but she couldn’t settle it with her heart. She didn’t know what to do, and Heaven had remained silent. God, she believed, was listening. He just wasn’t talking.

  He seemed to be talking now, though. The instant the organist played “A Mighty Fortress,” Dani felt like a child at her father’s knee. Her own father had been a man of few words, but he’d loved that hymn. After the music, Pastor Josh opened his Bible and read from Isaiah. His impassioned tone reminded her of the nights her father had read out loud to his family. He finished the verses, closed the Bible and looked right at Dani. “Some of us have hard decisions to make today. We know what we want. We know what other people want. But what does God want?”

  Dani sat straighter. Josh had described her situation exactly. She didn’t want to be selfish or naive. She wanted to make the right decision no matter the personal cost. As Josh told stories about people in the Bible and the choices they’d made, she hung on to every word. When men trusted God, they triumphed. When they acted on their own, as Moses had when he’d struck the rock, they paid a price. She didn’t want to make that mistake.

  Pastor Josh locked eyes with her. “How do we know God’s will?”

  Dani thought of the obvious answers. Prayer. Reading the Bible. But what did a woman do when her choice would put others at risk? A marriage in name only struck Dani as wrong, but it would protect the girls. Saying no to Beau would protect her integrity, but the girls could end up in Minnesota.

  The Reverend held her gaze. “God hasn’t spoken through a prophet like Isaiah in a lot of years, but he speaks to each of us every day. Sometimes he whispers in our ears. Sometimes he gives words to a friend. I’ve found when people say God’s not talking, most of the time—not all—they’re not listening. Why is that? The Creator of the Universe loves us. He sent His son to lead the way to eternity, yet we hold on to our ideas, our plans, as if we know everything. Why do we put faith in ourselves when the Lord knows far more than we do?”

  He gave the congregation a minute to think.

  “The answer’s simple. We’re afraid of the dark. We stop trusting God and start our own fires. They give off light but just for a while. They give us heat but only in a tiny circle. Those fires die out, leaving us colder than ever. Sometimes our fires do the opposite. They burn out of control and destroy our lives. Either way, we end up back in the dark.”

  Josh paced some more. “So what do we do? How do we manage when the night stretches beyond our understanding and we’re as scared as children? The answer’s both easy and hard. We wait for the Lord to light the way. We walk by faith, not sight. That’s what this story is about.”

  The words settled into Dani’s soul. If she married Beau, she’d be doing it out of fear, not faith. Her body tensed with dread. She couldn’t marry him, not even for the sake of the girls. God, she had to believe, had a better plan than a deceitful marriage. Her stomach was doing flips, but she had peace about her decision. Tonight she’d tell Beau she couldn’t marry him. She didn’t think he’d leave without finalizing the adoption, but she couldn’t be sure. Refusing his offer could cost her everything, but so could taking it. She wanted a real marriage, not a compromise.

  With that thought, the light of her own fire went out completely, plunging her into the dark. She couldn’t speak to Beau until the girls were asleep, which meant she had all afternoon to imagine a lonely train ride back to Wisconsin. As the organist played the closing hymn, Dani prayed for strength.

  Tired of pacing by the stream, Beau glanced up at the moon. After church, Dani had whispered that she’d reached a decision and would speak to him after the girls went to bed. Ever since, he’d been tense and way. He almost wished he’d gone inside the church to hear Josh preach. Back in Denver, the man’s sermons had been like a match to tinder. Beau’s faith had caught fire, but Lucy’s death had doused those flames.

  Beau didn’t know what the Reverend had said today, but Dani had come out with her chin held high. She’d looked ready to fight, but with whom? Beau or Harriet Lange?

  He didn’t know, but he’d find out soon. Twenty minutes ago, she’d asked him to meet her at the stream. He’d been grateful to walk alone. Every minute he spent with her made him doubt his decision to leave. To stay focused, he kept the bullet in his pocket. He had it now. He also had Dani’s ring. If she said yes, he’d give it to her tonight.

  Beau sensed movement, turned and saw Dani walking along the fence. The sight of her stole his breath. She had on a pale blue dress, one he’d never seen before. It matched her eyes. She’d taken time with her hair, too. Instead of a coiled braid, she’d pinned it up in a smooth knot. Had she dressed up for the occasion? He hoped so but chastised himself. They were conducting business, not a courtship.

  “Hi there,” he called.

  “Hi.”

  “Nice night,” he said, sounding casual.

  Dani didn’t seem to hear him. She stopped two feet away and raised her chin. “I’ve reached a decision. While I appreciate your offer, I can’t agree to a marriage in name only.”

  Beau had been in a lot of fights but never one with so many players. Dani had Josh on her side, Adie, the girls and Lucy, too. In a bizarre twist of irony, Beau’s only ally was Clay Johnson. That fact should have told him something, but he turned a deaf ear to the small voice of his conscience. He couldn’t leave until the judge finalized th
e adoption. He had to make Dani change her mind.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  She stood ramrod straight. “It would be dishonest.”

  “It’s necessary. Think of the girls.”

  “I am.”

  His blood started to burn. “What about Harriet Lange? She’s already causing trouble.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course, it matters!” Beau thought she’d lost her mind.

  Dani laced her fingers at her waist. “I have to believe that God has a plan. He knows what’s best.”

  “He doesn’t give a hoot!” The only man Beau trusted these days was himself. He didn’t want to antagonize Dani, so he tried to sound mild. “I know this is hard for you, but a marriage in name only is the easiest way to settle the adoption.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not the best way.”

  “Dani—”

  “I can’t, Beau.” Her voice shook. “It would be wrong in so many ways.”

  “Name one.”

  “We’d be telling three girls that marriage is nothing but a business arrangement.”

  “They don’t have to know.”

  “So we’d be lying.”

  She had a point, but so did he. “This arrangement is no one’s business but ours.”

  “I’d be lying to myself and to the girls.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “I can’t do it.”

  He shook his head in disgust. “Josh must have preached a barn burner of a sermon.”

  “He made me see the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “God has a plan for us, and it doesn’t include a fake marriage. If we do it His way, not ours, He’ll see us through.”

  Beau’s jaw tightened. “Like He saw Lucy through?”

  “I’m so sorry—”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut butter.”

  If she told him to set down his hate, he’d walk away. He half hoped she would. He’d have a reason to storm off. Instead she looked at him with heartfelt sympathy, then held out her hand. Beau stared at her fingers. Long and strong, they reminded him of the twigs a bird used to build a nest. She deserved a nest of her own. He wanted to build that home and share it with her, but he couldn’t. If he took her hand tonight, he’d never leave.

  Dani crossed the two steps between them and cupped his face in her palms. “There’s another reason I can’t say yes.”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “I love you, Beau. You know that.”

  “Dani—”

  “I want everything God has for us.”

  Beau knew what it meant to love a woman, to carry her burdens and share her dreams. He’d have died in Lucy’s place. He felt the same way about Dani. He also knew how it felt to be loved. A woman’s smile made a man stand tall. It made him stronger and better in ways no man understood. Beau felt that love now. It was time to be a better man—Dani’s man—but he couldn’t do it without denying his own need for justice.

  He jerked away from her touch. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Her eyes filled with hope. He hated himself for what he was about to say, but it couldn’t be helped. “You need a husband, a man who won’t leave. I’m not that man.”

  “You could be.”

  He clenched his teeth. He loved this woman, but he couldn’t tell her how he felt. Leaving would be hard enough without an empty promise.

  She stepped closer. “I want you to be that man.”

  Beau breathed in the scent of her hair. If he reached for her, she’d be in his arms. He’d kiss her and tell her he loved her…then where would they be? He had to finish his business with Clay. He reached into his pocket, pinched the bullet and raised it for her to see. “Johnson left this for me.”

  Her eyes filled with revulsion, then fear. “He wants to kill you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.”

  “Stay,” Dani pleaded. “We can have a good life. We can—” She bit her tongue, then turned her back and gave a dry laugh. “I’ve never begged in my life. I’m embarrassed.”

  Beau touched her shoulder. “Don’t be. I’m honored.” He wanted to turn her around but settled for looking at every hair on her head. “I have to go, Dani. With a little luck, I’ll be back soon and free to say what’s in my heart.”

  Her shoulders quivered. “When are you going?”

  “The instant the adoption’s final.”

  “But Harriet Lange—”

  “I’ll visit Scott tomorrow. Maybe he can speed things up.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t.” He sounded as hoarse as a mule skinner. “I’d stay if I could. I’d do a lot of things.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I wish I could make things easy for you.”

  “I feel the same for you.”

  Either one of them could have ended the standoff, but at what cost? If Dani sacrificed her integrity, she’d stop being the honest woman he loved. Beau could let Clay live, but he’d still be consumed by bitterness. He couldn’t change his own heart. He didn’t have that ability.

  No, but God did. Beau heard the voice in his head. He knew God’s ways. He also had Clay Johnson’s bullet in his pocket. It promised finality, the only kind Beau trusted. He saw the choice as plain as day. He could put his faith in God or in a brass casing filled with gunpowder. Of the two, gunpowder was more reliable.

  “Let’s go home,” he said to Dani’s back.

  She squared her shoulders, then gave him a sad smile. “You can always change your mind.”

  “So can you.”

  He followed her to the house, walking in the dark because God had hidden the moon.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “When will we know about the adoption?”

  Emma had asked the question, but all three girls looked up at Dani from across the kitchen table. They were making cottage cheese the way Dani had made it a thousand times, the way her mother had taught her. Yesterday she had clabbered the milk. Today she and the girls were squeezing the whey and adding salt to taste. She’d serve it with tonight’s supper.

  Emma looked at Dani expectantly. The question deserved an answer, but Dani didn’t have one. She kept her voice mild. “Mr. Scott’s working on papers for the judge.”

  The girls didn’t know anything about Harriet Lange or Beau’s marriage proposal. Earlier she and Beau had explained that Mr. Scott had to write up a contract to make the adoption permanent, and that a judge had to approve it. They didn’t mention Harriet Lange’s threats to fight in court.

  Emma squeezed the cheesecloth. Whey dripped into a bowl. “It’s taking a long time.”

  “Too long,” Ellie added.

  “I think so, too,” Dani said. “But it can’t be helped.”

  Had she just lied? Last night she’d refused Beau’s offer. They could have been married today if she’d compromised. Dani didn’t doubt her decision, but she feared the consequences. Last night, lying in the dark, she imagined Harriet Lange slapping Emma.

  “Dani?” Esther sounded older. She hadn’t sucked her thumb in days.

  “What is it, sweetie?”

  “I’m scared the judge will say no.”

  “Me, too,” she answered. “We have to trust the Lord to know what’s best.”

  The girls had grown up with prayers and Bible stories. They knew Jesus for themselves. With time, their faith would grow. Dani hoped to help them down that path. No matter what happened, she wouldn’t waver or doubt. Life, she decided, was like the curds she’d spread in a pan. Yesterday they’d been raw milk, but heat and time had turned them into something even better. She was trusting God for the same miracle in her life.

  Did I make the right choice, Lord?

  She thought of her favorite Psalm and the sparrows that had a nest for themselves. She wanted a nest of her own, a home with children and Beau for a husband. Last night she’d helped him with the milking. Over and over, she’d hummed “Amazing Grace.” When they’d finished, Beau had muttered something about grace being
wasted on Clay Johnson and had left the barn.

  Dani finished covering the tray of curds and set it aside. A knock on the front door startled all four of them. Praying Trevor Scott had come with good news, she wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll get it,” she said to the girls.

  As she stepped into the front room, she craned her neck to see through the window into the yard. She saw a horse and buggy with a driver, a well-dressed man she didn’t recognize. She thought of calling for Beau, but he and Howie were repairing the fence on the far side of the meadow. Dani opened the door and saw an old woman in a gray traveling suit. She stood five feet tall and had pretty white hair. Dani was a regular at church now and had been invited to join a sewing circle. The woman at her door, with her round face and dainty nose, seemed familiar. Perhaps she’d come with another invitation.

  Dani smiled. “May I help you?”

  “I believe you can,” she said sweetly. “Is this the Morgan farm?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I’m Harriet Lange.”

  Dani had expected the girls’ aunt to be a crone. This woman had laugh wrinkles and twinkling eyes. Slightly plump, she had the pillowy softness of a grandmother. Dani felt sick inside. What right did she have to deny this woman her nieces? None, but appearances could be deceiving. Dani glanced at the woman’s hands and saw fancy gloves. Did the silk cover fingers capable of a tender touch or a hand that would hurt a child?

  “I’ve taken you by surprise,” the woman said gently. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” Dani wished she had on a better dress. She opened the door and motioned for Miss Lange to step into the front room. “We were just making cottage cheese. If you’d give me a minute—”

  “Of course.” The woman scanned the room.

  “Please, sit down.” Dani motioned to the divan, but Miss Lange walked to the hutch displaying Beth’s collection of teacups. The girls, especially Emma, treasured the reminders of their mother.