by Karen Kirst
“What’s going on here, Strafford?” that soldier asked.
“Nothing to concern you, Reeves,” the dark-headed man replied, clearly irked at Gideon’s untimely appearance.
Standing beside Strafford, Private McGraw belatedly pulled his attention from the other side of the street. He turned and stared curiously at Gideon’s black eye. “What happened to your face, Mr. Thornton? And the lady’s?”
“None of your business.”
His mustache twitched. “Keeping the peace in this little nowhere town is my business.”
Threading his arm through Evelyn’s, Gideon leveled the other man a “back off” stare. “The matter has no bearing on Brave Rock’s safety. Now, I have work to get back to. Good day, gentlemen.”
He ushered Evelyn and Walt along the storefronts to where his wagon was parked. When he’d lifted the boy into the seat, he searched her face. Her color was slightly off. Blast those men for frightening her!
“Are you all right?” He worked to keep his voice calm.
Beneath her bonnet’s stiff brim, uncertainty clouded her dark eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just that— Gideon, I don’t trust those men.”
He blew out a breath. “Nor do I.”
“The blond one, Private McGraw... He was watching Katrine. What if...he’s interested in her like Strafford is in me?”
Strafford was a pest. McGraw, he sensed, could pose a serious threat. “I’ll have a word with Lars.”
He assisted her into the wagon. When he reached the corner of the bed, he spotted Private Reeves hurrying toward him. Reeves raised a hand to stall him.
“Mr. Thornton,” he puffed, slightly out of breath, “I’m glad I caught you. I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
Glancing left and right, Reeves pitched his voice low. “I believe you could be of great assistance to my colleagues and me. We are in need of someone to do a few odd jobs for us. If you agree to help, we’d see to it that your court case is hurried along.” His gaze flicked beyond Gideon’s shoulder to where Evelyn sat waiting. “We have some influence with Judge Martin.” He paused for effect. “I can guarantee an outcome in your favor.”
Gideon stared at the private. Mind racing, he blurted, “What kind of odd jobs are we talking about?”
Reeves shrugged nonchalantly. “Whatever McGraw asks you to do.”
Which translated into something underhanded, something no law-abiding citizen would do with a clear conscience. “Sorry, not interested.”
He started to brush past the shorter man.
“Are you sure you don’t want to think about it? You do want that claim, don’t you? Or have you decided the widow should have it?”
At the sly innuendo, Gideon clenched his fists. “What I want, Reeves, is to do things the honest way. Coercion isn’t my style. Nor will I take part in illegal activities.” Rounding the bed, he uttered a terse, “Good day.”
“If you tell your brother the sheriff about our little conversation, I’ll just deny it.”
Ignoring the threat, Gideon climbed onto the seat and, aware of Evelyn’s regard, guided the team onto the street.
He wouldn’t mention this conversation to her. It would only worry her. But he did intend on relating every detail to Clint. Those soldiers were up to no good.
Chapter Eighteen
“I was surprised to see Gideon at services again this morning.” Alice hefted the pan of roast chicken from the oven and plunked it on the table. Her eyes were full of questions. So were Katrine’s.
Stirring the green beans again, Evelyn lifted a shoulder. “I have no answers for you. He approached us in the midst of breakfast and offered to bring us.”
She’d assumed he would wait outside the big tent while Elijah preached. Instead he’d escorted her to the back row and sat down on the other side of Walt. While he’d clearly been uncomfortable, at least he hadn’t been tormented like last time.
Alice peeked out the window and Evelyn’s gaze followed. From the looks of things, the Thornton brothers and Lars were discussing something of great import.
“Elijah can’t help but be pleased,” Alice was saying. “And hopeful that at least one of his brothers will come around and make peace with God.”
Katrine, resplendent in a patterned dress of pastel blue and white, looked up from her task of placing silverware on the table. “Why do they stay away? Are they not followers of Christ?”
Resting her hands on a chair, Evelyn waited for the answer, glad Katrine had given voice to a question she hadn’t had the courage to ask.
Tucking an errant curl behind her ear, Alice frowned. “Do you recall that Elijah lost his first fiancée, Marybelle, to influenza? An epidemic swept through their small Kansas town, killing nearly a third of the population. Both Clint and Gideon lost people they cared deeply about.” She smoothed her apron, then picked up the carving knife, sadness stamped upon her lovely features. “I believe their loss and grief took a huge toll on their relationship with God.”
“Gideon’s wife died during the outbreak, didn’t she?” Evelyn murmured without thinking.
Buried in the roast chicken, the knife halted midcut. “Susannah? Yes, I’m afraid so.”
Her heart squeezed. No wonder he was resistant to connect with others, guarded his solitude so zealously. He’d loved his wife to distraction and hadn’t been able to move past the loss. A tiny stab of jealousy stole her breath. It wasn’t possible—or rational—to be jealous of a dead woman. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Susannah had been like. Must’ve been very special indeed to have lassoed the lone-wolf cowboy’s heart.
Gripping the smooth wood beneath her fingers, Evelyn gave in to her curiosity. “What was she like?”
“I confess I know next to nothing about her,” Alice replied. “Elijah won’t say much about Gideon’s past. He knows how Gideon cherishes his privacy.”
Disappointed, she gathered a stack of plates and, circling the table, placed one at each chair. Katrine poured coffee.
Alice stopped her carving to study Evelyn. “I know this land claim situation hasn’t been ideal for either of you, but I have to say you and Walt have been good for Gideon.”
Her mouth fell open.
Alice chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked. Since you’ve been around, he’s different. Less tense. I even caught a hint of a smile earlier. Wouldn’t you agree, Katrine?”
The kettle hovered midair. Head tilted to one side, she considered the question, glistening braid sliding over one shoulder. “I do not know him very well, but the fact that he has attended church services two weeks in a row is significant.”
“Exactly.” With a triumphant smile and a knowing glance directed at Evelyn, the bride-to-be went back to her carving.
Footsteps clumped on the porch, followed by the front door swinging open and emitting four very large, very masculine men. And although their combined presence nearly overwhelmed the cozy interior, Evelyn welcomed the intrusion. Alice’s suggestions pleased her too much. To think that she had had a positive influence on Gideon irrationally thrilled her. Wrong. So very wrong.
She deliberately avoided Gideon’s gaze, fearful of what he might detect in her own. Because, despite the countless reasons that falling for him would mean disaster, she had a sinking feeling her heart was beginning to succumb to the pull he had over her.
* * *
At the last minute Winona and Dakota joined them at the table. Their arrival and the talk of Elijah and Alice’s upcoming wedding made it easy for Gideon to remain lost in his thoughts. Not that anyone expected him to contribute to such a conversation. They were used to his brooding silences.
Inside his head, however, chaos abounded. What insane impulse had driven him to put on his Sunday clothes and offer Evelyn a ride to
church? And why had he not waited outside the tent instead of subjecting himself to renewed grief? Perhaps most baffling of all was his agreeing to this cozy family scene where Evelyn fit like a long-lost puzzle piece.
Reaching to snag another roll, he made the mistake of intercepting Lije’s gaze, the speculation there confirming what he’d suspected. His brothers thought the widow and her son meant something to him. He could hardly blame them. Showing up to church two weeks in a row was something of a phenomenon.
Walt’s small hand landed on Gideon’s leg, and he pointed to the basket of rolls. As rich brown eyes so like his mother’s looked adoringly up to his, a tender, mushy feeling stole through his chest. Over the boy’s head, Evelyn watched him carefully, the warmth and approval in her gaze inciting an irrational wish for a different future than he’d envisioned for himself.
Who was he kidding? Of course they meant something to him. In the past few weeks, they’d slipped under his defenses and planted themselves firmly in his head and heart. He cared about their safety and well-being. He wanted good things to come their way, wanted Walt to speak again and to have a father who showed interest in him. For Evelyn he wanted someone worthy of her, a man who would love her without conditions.
A shame he couldn’t be that man.
Jerking his attention back to his plate, he forced the rest of its contents down—the formerly succulent chicken now sat in his mouth like a fist of splinters—and excused himself. There were too many happy pairings in this small room. Lije and Alice. If he didn’t miss his mark, Lars and Winona. Clint and Katrine? No. Lars’s sister hadn’t shown any marked interest in his brother. Besides, Clint had determined not to marry. Lije thought he’d change his tune later on, but Gideon wasn’t so sure. The youngest Thornton possessed a will of iron. Once his mind was made up about something, there was no changing it.
Outside he pulled fresh air into his lungs, soaked in the rugged beauty of the Oklahoma prairie. Thin layers of clouds hanging in the sky provided relief from the soaring mid-May temperatures and created contrast with the surrounding colors. A sea of green grass rippled into the distance, punctuated here and there by splashes of bright orange and golden yellow.
The door burst open, and Dakota, his shoulder-length brown hair swinging, darted into the field. Walt tripped after him. Whoops and giggles broke the silence. Lars approached, his knee-high moccasin boots masking his footsteps. A contented grin marked his features.
“Oh, to have the energy of a child.”
Gideon nodded, steering his thoughts to calmer waters. “Sure would be handy.” He thought of the endless tasks awaiting him, the chief of them being the completion of his cabin.
Dakota rushed up to Lars to show him a ladybug cradled in his palm. The Dane smiled and tousled Dakota’s hair. Affection shone in his blue eyes. He’d clearly taken to Winona’s nephew. And to the lovely Indian woman herself. But would he ever act on those feelings?
When the boy rejoined Walt, Lars shot Gideon a sidelong glance. “It pleases me to see you in services again, Gideon.”
“Don’t expect me to make a habit of it,” he softly warned, breaking off a stalk of grass and chewing on it.
His hand settled on Gideon’s shoulder. “Trust me, my friend. In time you will find comfort in God’s Word and in the friendship of other believers.”
He swallowed a sarcastic remark, kept his gaze on the boys. “No disrespect, but I highly doubt that.”
“Do you think you are the only one to suffer?” he calmly pointed out. “Dakota’s father abandoned him. His mother died. Walt Montgomery also lost a father.”
“Losing a child is altogether different,” he pushed out, not at all happy about this conversation. He knew Lars meant well, but the subject was a painful one. One he’d rather avoid.
The Dane nodded. “I cannot imagine the sorrow you speak of. However, death and loss are a part of life on this earth, as are healing and joy and the prospect of new love.”
On that last word, someone emerged from the cabin. Winona. A shy smile curved her mouth as her obsidian eyes settled on her tutor. Telltale color slashed Lars’s cheekbones.
Glad of the reprieve, Gideon turned to greet her and, after a brief exchange of inane comments about the weather, eagerly made his escape. The subject of his lost daughter was off-limits. He didn’t want to think about Maggie and the gaping, jagged wound her absence had carved in his soul. Healing? Joy? Love? They simply weren’t possible in a world without her.
* * *
Evelyn stood in the tack room doorway, caught by the tender way Gideon carried her sleeping son, laid him gently on the cot and tucked the covers around him, hovering a moment to see if he would stir. He seems awfully comfortable with the routine.
When he turned to her he started, as if he’d been unaware of his surroundings. Walking swiftly past her, he left the stable. She followed him into the darkness.
“Is something wrong, Gideon?”
Because of his dark clothing and the lack of moonlight, his broad form blended with the shadows. “I’m tired, that’s all. Long day.”
Indeed, it had been a long day. Aside from the trying church service, however, it had been a pleasant one. The more time she spent with Alice and the others, the more she liked and admired them. They had reason to ostracize her, yet they’d generously drawn her into their circle.
Admit it, you like spending time with Gideon when he’s around his family. You like watching him interact with his brothers, his polite deference to the nurse he’ll soon call sister-in-law, his genuine fondness for his friend Lars.
With a small sigh, she folded her hands and gazed up at the navy expanse dotted with white sparklers. The air was warm and balmy against her skin, heavy with the scent of rain. Somehow the darkness made it easier to speak of difficult things.
“Tell me about Susannah.”
Gideon’s spine stiffened. He half turned to her, but she couldn’t make out his expression. Part of her was glad of that.
“Why?”
Because I’m desperate to learn her secret...how she convinced you to open up your heart. She shrugged in feigned nonchalance. “I know very little about your life in Kansas.”
Silence stretched to the point of being uncomfortable. “Not that much to tell.”
“How did you meet her?”
“Evelyn—” Her name came out on a long-suffering sigh.
She wasn’t about to be put off. “I spilled my guts to you about Drake. The least you can do is answer some simple questions.”
Her response was met by another too-long silence. Evelyn thought perhaps it was a lost cause. Recalling Alice’s warning about Gideon’s penchant for privacy, she was about to return to the stable when his low voice split the night.
“We met at church. She, uh, was up from Charleston visiting her aunt.”
A Southern belle. She could never compete with that. “Let me guess—her beauty combined with her accent and charming manners led you to court her right away?”
He shifted his stance. “I didn’t court her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Susannah came from an affluent family,” he said, resigned. “She was accustomed to getting what she wanted. I guess she thought a rough-and-tumble cowboy would suit her fancy, so she set out to convince me that she was what I wanted, too.”
Evelyn mulled this over. Their marriage did not sound like a love match.
“But you eventually fell for her?” she ventured, certain he’d put a stop to the questions.
“I haven’t spoken of this to another soul.” Wonder punctuated his words. She sensed his intense perusal. “Elijah surmised much of what went on between us, but he never guessed...I did not love Susannah. I married her because I was tired of being alone and, though I’m ashamed to admit it, all that heaping admiration boosted my
confidence. ’Course, that didn’t last. She soon learned what it was to be a lowly cowboy’s wife.”
Even though night cloaked them, she could see the defeat weighing him down. A soft breeze rustled through the distant trees, stirring the ends of her unbound hair. Needing something to occupy her nervous hands, she gathered the mass in her hands and twisted it, finger-combing the ends.
“Why do you think you failed her?”
“I don’t think. I know.” His demeanor hardened. “I made the choice to marry her, so I determined to make the best of the arrangement. I did everything in my power to make her happy. It wasn’t enough.” He jabbed a thumb in his chest. “I wasn’t enough.”
“Oh, Gideon.” Her heart breaking for him, she reached out.
He jerked away, warded her off with upheld palms. “Nothing you say will change the past. I was there. I saw how my inadequacies, my inability to love, destroyed her happiness.”
Evelyn lowered her hand. There would be no convincing him of anything. He would have to figure things out for himself. Strange how they’d each dealt with similar issues in their marriages and come out the other side with scars.
“I wasn’t going to try and convince you of anything.”
“You weren’t?” Stunned indignation marked his words. “You weren’t going to tell me that I am capable of love? That it was her problem, not mine?”
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I did.”
Inch by inch, he lowered his hands. She had his full attention.
“My situation is somewhat similar to yours. I married for the wrong reasons. I found Drake’s marked attention flattering. He was dashing, a little arrogant, I suppose, and the object of many a young girl’s daydream. My brothers approved of him—a marvel in itself—and urged me to accept his proposal.”
“I can see where their approval would carry a lot of influence with you,” he observed thoughtfully.
Nodding, she continued, “The newness of married life wore off much too quickly, I’m afraid, and just as you weren’t enough for Susannah, I wasn’t enough for Drake.”
