Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends)

by Lough, Loree

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stiffen in response to his gruff reply, as if to say, “Fine, if it’s silence you want, then it’s silence you’ll get!” He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

  But then, he hadn’t meant to love her, either.

  While she stared straight ahead, Josh stared at her—at that stunning profile, with its upturned nose and full, pouty lips. He didn’t know if her name was Kate or Dinah or Clementine, but he did know this: if the woman who stood close enough to kiss had ever played poker, she’d lost every hand. She wore her feelings on her sleeve, written all over her pretty face, in her lovely voice, and in the way she faced adversity with her head high and her back straight. And he loved her all the more for it.

  She’d nearly cried just now when he’d told her the story about Mercy. Now, really, how could a woman with a heart that big and a temperament that sweet be guilty of the things printed on that wanted poster?

  The soft scent of lavender soap rode the sultry night breeze and floated into his nostrils, and Josh closed his eyes, intent on memorizing it. That way, if she left him—and he was pretty sure that was exactly what she aimed to do—he could summon her scent to dull the ache of plodding through every day of the rest of his life without her.

  Several times, as he stood there watching, wishing things could be different, Josh opened his mouth, thinking maybe he’d just throw caution to the wind and blurt out the first thing that came into his head. But, just as quickly, he clamped his molars together. What if “I love you” popped out? What if he asked her real name, asked if she was the woman on the wanted poster, and she confirmed his worst fear—that her bighearted sweetness had been part of her wily, pull-the-wool-over-his-eyes act.

  And if none of those things happened? Well, if he didn’t know what had gotten them so far off track, how in the world would he get them back on again?

  “Honey biscuit?” she suddenly asked, pulling a napkin-wrapped parcel out of an apron pocket.

  He wasn’t the least bit hungry, but he took it, anyway. “Thanks,” he said. At least, with his mouth full, she wouldn’t expect him to hold up his end of the conversation.

  About the time he polished off the biscuit, Dinah jumped down from the gate and put her hands into her apron pockets. “Here,” she said, balancing a shiny, red apple on an upturned palm. “This was supposed to go into the pies, but I remembered how much you and Callie enjoyed the apples you bought while we were on the trail, so I set one aside for each of you.” She laughed softly and looked at his horse. “She ate hers in one big gulp, so I guess Esther really is right about Callie’s condition.”

  Grinning slightly, Josh wondered how deep those apron pockets were. But “What’s one thing got to do with the other?” is what he said.

  Dinah sent him a slanted smile. “She’s eating for two, I guess?”

  She looked so tiny, so fragile and vulnerable, that he was tempted to say, “I don’t want any old apple. All I want is you.” He might regret it in the morning, but Josh chose not to dwell on that. Instead, he drew her close and rested his chin in her mass of soft, sweet-smelling curls.

  Dinah, much to his surprise and delight, nestled into him. A second, perhaps two, ticked by before he felt her shoulders begin to lurch. Josh held her at arm’s length, shocked to find tears sparkling on her long, dark lashes. Using the pad of his thumb, he gently brushed them away. “Aw, darlin’, what’s this all about?”

  Wrapping her arms around him, she snuggled closer again. “Oh, Josh, please don’t worry about Callie. She’s strong and healthy, and her baby will be, too. I’m sure of it!”

  And there it was—the comfort and consolation he’d known no one could deliver in quite the same way as Dinah. Instantly, his worries and concerns about her past were gone. He’d live in the moment. What other choice did he have?

  “I don’t suppose there’s a slice of your delicious apple pie left?”

  A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at him. “I’m afraid you’re too late for that.” She studied his face, then added, “But there’s plenty of peach cobbler.”

  Josh couldn’t remember a time when more unanswered questions had tumbled in his head. Couldn’t understand why his heart felt twice its normal size, while his brain seemed to have shrunk to the size of a pebble. Couldn’t figure out why, when every rational thought in his head shouted “Stop!” he went ahead and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, anyway.

  Or why, when she so sweetly returned it, his heart raced with relief and delight.

  26

  Everyone at the Eagle Pass Church of God obviously knew that the aisle seat in the second row was reserved for Esther—and the rest of the row for her brood. Kate was just learning this, because this was her first time attending Sunday service with the Nevilles.

  Wearing yet another of Sarah’s dresses and a hat borrowed from Susan, Kate held tight to Ezra’s Bible, on loan from Josh’s grandmother, and followed the woman to the left side of the church. But even with the well-worn Good Book in her lap, she felt like a pariah. And a fraud. Because, if these good people knew just how far she’d strayed from the Lord and all that was holy these past months, they might just relegate her to the vestibule rather than to Esther’s left in the family pew.

  The voices of parishioners, buzzing like bees in a hive as they exchanged “Good mornings” and “Howdy-dos,” mingled with the swish of taffeta skirts and the almost-out-loud whispers of children as the church filled with worshippers. Kate started to stand up so that Josh’s cousins wouldn’t have to clamber over her feet, but Esther held her down. “If they’d gotten here on time, like we did,” she announced loudly enough for them to hear, “they’d have been spared looking like clumsy oafs.”

  Daniel, Paul, and Micah gave sheepish smiles as they paused to kiss their grandmother’s forehead, then settled into the pew on the other side of Kate. Sam, who’d chosen the seat directly in front of Daniel’s, turned slightly and chuckled behind a cupped palm. “Your turn for the firing squad this week, eh?”

  Susan dutifully shushed her husband.

  “Oh, no,” Willie said. “What did Pa do this time?”

  His mother hushed him, too, starting a chain reaction of snickers from Sarah, Matthew, and Eva.

  The hired hands and neighbors Kate had met at the picnic the day before smiled and waved to her, looking genuinely pleased to see her there in the pew beside Esther. What a delight, seeing them! But the one person she most wanted to see hadn’t yet arrived.

  “Girl, that head of yours is just like a door,” Esther said, grinning as she squeezed Kate’s knee. “I—I’d as-s-sk who you’re looking for….”

  Esther stopped talking and stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, inspiring a grin from Kate. Hopefully, she’d be as funny and energetic at that age!

  “…Ish ah din aw-eddy….”

  Kate might have laughed out loud at her silliness if she hadn’t noticed the sudden, gray pallor of Esther’s face. “Did you tuck your fan into your purse?” she asked, grasping the older woman’s hand. The cool yet clammy feel of her skin only added to Kate’s concern, for the oppressive heat in the crowded little church had turned everyone else’s cheeks a glossy, ruddy pink. Taking hold of Esther’s drawstring bag, she rummaged inside yet found nothing but a lace-edged handkerchief. So, she grabbed the old Bible and flapped it up and down to stir the air around Esther.

  “Nah gud,” Esther mumbled, shaking her head. “Nah gud a’ all….”

  “All right, then,” Kate said, sliding her arm across the woman’s shoulders, “I won’t bother, since it isn’t doing any good at all.”

  Knowing Esther, she’d view her current situation as a sign of weakness, and she’d hate drawing others’ attention to it just as much. Kate glanced around, hoping to catch the eye of Josh’s mother or father, or one of his cousins or sisters, but every Neville was engaged in lively conversation.

  She leaned left and nudged Daniel, “Will you help me get your
grandmother outside?” she asked him quietly.

  He craned his neck to get a better look at the woman. “The heat seems to be getting to her,” Kate explained, “and I think she needs some fresh air.”

  Sam overheard that last bit, and, as he got to his feet, Kate hoped the family clown would exercise a little restraint and decorum. But, despite the quiet, efficient way he stepped into the aisle and scooped Esther into his arms, people noticed—and reacted.

  The reverend’s wife, Pauline Peterson, had just stacked her sheet music on the organ. “What’s wrong with Esther?” she asked, her voice echoing through the church.

  “Why, Pauline, I do believe she’s fainted,” answered Eleanor Holbrook. “Oh dear, oh dear!”

  “Now, now,” Mayor Holbrook said. “No sense getting yourself all riled up or you’ll be the next one we’ll have to carry out of here.” Frowning, he shook his head. “I told that fool, Peterson, not to paint the windows shut, but would he listen? No-o-o.”

  “What seems to be the problem here?”

  “Reverend Peterson!” someone called out.

  “It’s Esther Neville,” said another.

  “If you’ll all just step aside,” Sam growled, “I’ll take her into the yard, where she can—”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus!” Mrs. Riddle squealed. “Good Lord in heaven, poor Esther has fainted!”

  The pastor’s authoritative, tenor voice silenced them all. “Do what Sam says, people, and get out of his way.”

  During it all, Esther kept her gaze locked on Kate’s, and as Sam marched toward the back of the church, she lifted one pale hand, as if to plead, “Come with me. Don’t leave me alone!” Was it just her imagination, or had the left half of Esther’s face stopped working in tandem with the right? The poor old woman looked positively terrified, and Kate’s heart ached for her.

  Dispensing with polite courtesies, she shoved her way through the crowd and ignored the barrage of questions following her to the big double doors at the back of the church. Her only concern was Esther. As they stepped into the sunny churchyard, she heard the fear in Esther’s voice as she wailed, “Dah-nnuh! Dah-nnuh!”

  Years ago, during an influenza epidemic, Kate had volunteered at the hospital in San Antonio, where the doctors and nurses had called upon her time and again to translate the garbled words of fevered patients. Back then, she hadn’t been wise to see it as a God-given gift, but she thanked Him for it now.

  Spotting several chairs off to the right, she hobbled over to fetch one for Esther. “I’ll be right there, Sam,” she called, “soon as I drag this—”

  “What’s wrong with my grandmother?”

  She looked up into Josh’s worried face and wished everyone else who’d gathered would just go away, including his sisters and cousins, and even his parents. “She fainted,” Kate began, “because of the heat. I think. So I asked Sam to bring her out here—to get some fresh air, and—”

  As he leaned down to grasp the arms of the chair and lift it out of her hands, he paused and looked deep into her eyes. “Thanks for being there for her.” Straightening, he hefted the chair into the shade of the tree, where his brother-in-law cradled a frail-looking Esther in his arms. Once Sam had positioned her in the chair, Josh crouched beside her. “Looks to me like you didn’t take your own good advice this morning.”

  “Whaa?”

  Kate had to give him credit. If Esther’s slack-jawed face and watery eyes alarmed him half as much as they frightened her, he was doing an exemplary job of hiding his concern.

  He patted his grandmother’s limp hand. “You skipped breakfast again, didn’t you, Mee-Maw?”

  Esther leaned back in the chair and tried to shake her head. “Dah-nuhh,” she moaned. “Wrrrr Dah-nuhh?”

  Kate was beside her in a heartbeat. “I’m right here, Esther.” On her knees beside the chair, she added, “It’ll take me only a few minutes to head up the road and fetch the doctor. Josh will stay with you while I’m—”

  But Esther frowned and flicked the fingers of her right hand, as if shooing away an annoying fly. “No-o-o,” she moaned. “Mke thm go-o-o….”

  Kate faced the people who had congregated nearby. “She doesn’t want the doctor, at least not at the moment.” She turned to Esther to see if she’d interpreted her wishes correctly. In response to the old woman’s grateful sigh, she faced the group again. “The last thing she wants is to worry you. I think she’ll pull herself together faster if you’ll do as she asks and go back inside for the service.”

  Willie tugged at his mother’s skirt. “What’s wrong with Mee-Maw?” he whimpered.

  Susan picked him up and finger combed blond bangs from his eyes. “She’s just tired, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

  “Is she gonna die, Mama?”

  Sam slid an arm around his wife’s waist. “’Course not, son.” He frowned. “He doesn’t need to see this,” he mouthed to her.

  “Your husband’s right,” Sarah whispered, tugging her sister’s hand. “Let’s go inside. Mee-Maw’s in good hands.”

  Amid a din of whispers and murmurs, the people slowly made their ways back inside the church, with the exception of Kate, Josh, and his parents.

  Esther began to cry softly. “Go-o-o…plll?”

  Kate was about to translate her last remark when Josh said, “Mee-Maw, darlin’, we can’t just leave you out here alone.”

  His grandmother fixed her teary-eyed gaze on Kate. “Wnn be ln-n-n.”

  “That’s right, Esther, you won’t be alone.” She directed her next comment to Josh and his father. “I won’t leave her side for a moment, I promise.”

  Matthew looked almost as vulnerable and upset as Willie had. He bent at the waist, resting both palms on his knees. “Ma, surely you don’t mean for Eva and me to leave, too.”

  She locked eyes with her son and gave a firm nod, then reached for Kate.

  “It’ll be all right, Mr. Neville,” Kate assured Matthew, taking his mother’s hand. “As you can hear, she’s already talking more clearly, even after just these few minutes in the fresh air.”

  Matthew straightened and, folding his arms over his chest, focused on Kate. “I wasn’t aware that you’d earned a medical degree, young lady.”

  He had every right to be upset, given his mother’s condition. Every right to be hurt that it seemed his mother trusted a stranger more than her loved ones. Kate could see the pain and worry on his handsome face, and her heart filled with sympathy for him. “I’m sure the only reason she prefers my company is because I’m a stranger, and I won’t fuss over her like a friend or family member might.” She didn’t need to add the obvious—that no one but she could understand a word Esther was saying. “If she isn’t better after the service, we’ll send for the doctor. In the meantime, what can it hurt to humor her?”

  Eva whispered into her husband’s ear, inspiring an exasperated sigh and a firm nod. He grumbled something under his breath, then followed his wife up the front steps of the church. At the doorway, he paused and pointed a beefy forefinger up the road, an unspoken command to fetch the doctor.

  Once everyone was out of sight, Josh stood behind the chair and watched as Kate tidied his grandmother’s skirts. “Should we do what he asked?” Kate asked him.

  “Only if you’re sure you can handle things while I’m gone.”

  She met his wary gaze. “Maybe you’d prefer that I go. I can explain things better, anyway—”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Just take care that she doesn’t tumble forward,” she instructed, marching purposefully toward the center of town and rejoicing that her ankle hardly hurt despite the pressure.

  In a matter of minutes, she found herself on the Lanes’ porch, breathing hard and knocking harder than necessary. It never occurred to her to wonder why Dr. Lane hadn’t been in church with the rest of Eagle Pass, so when his wife announced that he’d gone to Uvalde to pick up his special-order cigars, Kate nearly stamped her feet in frustration. “Did he leav
e someone else in charge of his patients’ well-being?” she demanded.

  The mousy little woman hid behind the door. “I’m afraid not,” she squeaked, “but he’ll be back first thing in the morning, if it can wait—”

  “Well, isn’t this a fine kettle of fish?” Kate blurted out. “Esther Neville could be dead by then, but at least the good doctor will have a good smoke to comfort him!”

  She turned on her heel and hurried back to the church, praying with every step that the slight improvement in Esther’s condition would have increased in the time she’d been gone.

  She hoped it for Esther’s sake, and for the sake of her children and grandchildren. Hoped it for herself, too, because she couldn’t leave the Lazy N while the poor old woman had no one but her to interpret her needs.

  27

  Through trial and error, Kate came up with a method for feeding Esther at mealtimes. Since soup was the only thing Esther could swallow easily, Kate made a big pot of it every night after tucking the woman in. Blotting Esther’s mouth with a cloth after every bite was easier on the woman’s self-esteem, and it kept her nightshirts tidier, too. Kate discovered that chattering about anything that popped into her head helped distract her charge from the fact that she’d lost control of half of her body and, despite her independent spirit, now needed constant care.

  “I think, after breakfast,” Kate said, dabbing the corner of Esther’s mouth with a napkin, “we’ll sit outside in the shade and I’ll read to you. Any book you choose!”

  Esther nodded despondently and did her best to choke down another spoonful of soup.

  Kate prattled on about the weather, little Willie’s latest antics, Sarah’s newest designer gown—anything but Dr. Lane’s dismal diagnosis.

  “Or maybe you’d rather dabble with your paints.” Despite the doctor’s gloom-and-doom prognosis, Kate believed that, with practice, Esther could reclaim at least some control of her now palsied hand. It was clear that she understood every word spoken to her, which was proof enough to Kate that, despite her struggle with words, Esther’s mind was intact and functioning perfectly!