Ethan had a good mind to stand his ground, but he was getting angrier by the minute. He’d already apologized about his insensitive remark and declared his intentions. What more could a man say? If she so much as blinked, he’d be taking her to bed, but it was up to Jayne to decide.
Mindful of her cold glare, he hoisted a chair with one hand, opened the front door and looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be right outside. Let me know if you change your mind about sleeping alone.”
“I won’t.”
“Maybe not,” he replied. “But you’re going to think about us tonight. You’re going to wonder what our children would look like, and you’re going to imagine making love to me in that bed. You’re going to think about waking up together, all tangled up and ready for more. All night long, you’re going to dream about us.”
When she looked down at her feet, Ethan felt a surge of hope. He lowered his voice to a gravelly drawl. “I can make those dreams come true. All you have to do is ask.”
Neither of them slept well. Jayne spent the night alone in bed doing exactly what Ethan had predicted. From the occasional thumps of his chair against the door, she knew that he hadn’t budged from the porch. True to his word, he was waiting for her to ask him inside.
The empty hours had given her time to think. The logical part of her mind was convinced she belonged in Lexington where she could support herself and the baby. She’d step into her old shoes, the ones like her mother had worn, kid boots with pointy toes and hard soles.
Her heart ached at the thought of leaving Ethan. Maybe he was ready for a new life and the upset over the shirt had been nothing.
Or maybe not. Maybe she’d rue the day they met, just as her mother had regretted her second marriage. At least she’d had her shop to fall back on. After the divorce, her mother had thanked her lucky stars that she’d kept her business.
With dawn pushing through the new glass windows, Jayne climbed out of bed and opened her trunk. Her green traveling suit was on top, neatly folded and ready to wear. She put on fresh unmentionables, stockings and the white shirtwaist she’d been wearing the day she arrived. It was snug across the bust, but it would have to do. After putting on the skirt and jacket, she twisted her hair into a knot and stepped into her city shoes.
They pinched. So did the waistband of the skirt.
As the morning sun chased away the gloom, she made coffee and opened a can of peaches for her breakfast. She had just taken the last bite when Ethan walked through the door and headed for the coffeepot. His face was red from scrubbing, and she guessed that he’d shaved outside with cold water. He was also wearing the shirt she had made.
At the memory of last night’s fiasco, she directed her gaze to Ethan, curious to see what he’d say. If he apologized, she would, too. They had both been upset.
But instead of softening, he gave her a hard stare, poured coffee for himself and downed it in six gulps. He set the cup on the counter with a thud. “Chores are done. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now,” she replied. Unless you have something to say.
He gave her a stiff nod and walked to the bed. Kneeling, he reached under the oak frame and took out a leather satchel.
She pushed to her feet. “What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“What for?”
“I’m staying in town.”
She watched as he gathered long johns, socks and an extra shirt. Not bothering to fold anything, he stuffed the garments into the satchel, worked the buckle and hoisted the bag off the bed.
Jayne glared at him. “I don’t want you to wait with me.”
“You don’t have a say in the matter. I want to order wood for the barn and hire men to help build it. I can’t do that until Monday. And then there’s the matter of buying a new wagon.”
“Suit yourself,” she said. Ethan’s presence in Midas didn’t change a thing. She’d be on the train to Raton in the morning.
He carried his satchel to the buckboard, leaving her with the trunk. It was too heavy for her to lift, so she waited for him to come back for it. A full minute passed. What in the world was he doing out there? Heaving a sigh, she stepped onto the porch and saw Rocky tied to the back of the wagon. Ethan was lazing against the side with one boot draped over the other.
“Would you please get my trunk?” she said.
He curled his fingers into his palms and flicked at a cuticle. “Since you’re so determined to take care of yourself, this seems like a good time to start. You get it. I’ll wait here.”
His snide tone reminded her of old Mrs. Teeter back in Lexington. The woman had been a thorn, but a wealthy one who bought a new wardrobe every spring. Jayne had learned that common sense trumped rudeness any day of the week.
Shrugging, she said, “Never mind. I can manage.”
She walked back into the cabin, grabbed one handle of the trunk and dragged it across the floor. Who cared if it scratched the planking she’d waxed just yesterday? She tugged the heavy case through the door, barking her knuckles on the doorjamb and nearly tripping on her hem as she backed down the porch steps.
She could push and pull the heavy trunk, but she didn’t have a prayer of lifting it into the buckboard as long as it was packed. After untwisting the wire holding the broken latch, she opened the lid.
Ethan’s shadow touched her feet. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll be able to lift it when it’s empty.” Her voice had risen a notch, betraying her nerves.
“Jayne, don’t.” His touch burned through her sleeve. If only she could forget his wife…if only he would kiss her until she couldn’t think…
Instead he blew out a hard breath. “I was trying to make a point, but never mind. I’ll get the trunk.”
He dropped to one knee, grasped the handles and hoisted it into the wagon as Jayne walked around to the seat. She was gripping the frame with the intention of pulling herself up when she felt his hand on her elbow.
“Watch your step,” he said.
The old wood creaked as she sat and then creaked again as he climbed up next to her. He loosened the reins and the gelding plodded down the trail.
The ride to Midas was bumpy and silent. When she finally saw mining shanties and the steaming kettles of a laundry, she breathed a sigh of relief. A few minutes later Ethan steered the horse down a street lined with storefronts and adobe buildings. The sun was bright and the boardwalk was dotted with people headed to church.
As fragments of conversation drifted to her ears, she wondered if she would ever feel at home again. Folding her hands in her lap, she sat ramrod-straight as Ethan shifted one boot against the floorboard. The church was a block away and they had decisions to make.
“I’d like to check the train schedule,” she said. Her stomach quivered at the thought of bidding him farewell, but she had to be sensible.
“We’ll check in at the hotel first,” he replied. “After the service, I’ll walk with you to the depot.”
When they arrived at the hotel, Ethan paid for adjoining rooms and put her trunk in one and his satchel in the other. Next, they visited the livery stable where he boarded the horses and wagon and posted a For Hire notice.
The church was situated apart from the local businesses. As they stepped off the boardwalk and onto a dusty path, Ethan raised his hand to the small of her back. She smelled the sweetness of spring grass as families dressed in their Sunday best climbed out of wagons and walked into the wooden building.
Blinking in the sun, she couldn’t help but wonder where she’d be in five years. Maybe she’d be strolling to church in Lexington, holding her daughter’s hand, or perhaps she’d have a boy, like the one doing jumping jacks in front of the church. When the boy’s father hollered at him to be still for a change, Jayne felt a lump rise in her throat.
With one last look at the brilliant sky, she let Ethan guide her into the church, where Reverend Leaf was glowering from the pulpit.
Chapter Fif
teen
“A nyone here ever kill a man?”
From her seat in the last pew, Jayne saw forty people shake their heads as John Leaf paced across the front of the church. Dressed in a black frock coat and staring into the congregation with piercing eyes, he reminded her of a hawk on a hunt. He barely resembled the friendly man who had munched cookies at Ethan’s kitchen table.
The Reverend peered ruthlessly into the crowd. “Anyone here every lied or cheated at cards?”
The room grew even quieter.
“How about stealing?”
Silence.
“Okay, how about you men? Has anyone here ever bedded another man’s wife?”
The air thickened like fog on the Ohio River, the kind that formed when cold air hit warmer water. The woman seated in front of Jayne leaned close to her husband and whispered, “Well, I never!”
Reverend Leaf must have caught a hint of the talk because he stared at the woman as if he were getting ready for a gunfight. Then he tapped one boot, pivoted and paced some more. When no one else stirred, he squared himself in front of the congregation, crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “All right, since you folks are all so perfect, you can go on home and I’ll eat the ice cream myself.”
The crowd teetered with laughter until an old man said, “Like hell, Reverend. I’ll join you.”
“Count me in.”
“Me, too, John.”
Several women nodded, but the young woman sitting next to Jayne had tears in her eyes. She was also wearing a cherry-red dress that was too garish for church but perfect for a woman trying to attract a sporting man’s attention. The girl had stitched lace across the neckline to hide her bosom, but her feeble effort didn’t mask who and what she was. Or used to be. The dress was old and worn.
Jayne saw the Reverend’s eyes focus on the back pew as if he were willing the girl to look up at him. She sniffed once and then raised her chin. Her cheeks were as red as winter apples and they grew even redder when John Leaf gave her a smile.
His gaze traveled to Jayne, whom he greeted with a friendly nod, and then to Ethan. Rocking back on his heels, he hooked his thumbs in his pockets and pulled back his coat just enough to reveal a glimmer of blue metal. It looked like a pistol, but Jayne couldn’t be sure.
When Ethan nodded, the Reverend lowered his arms so that the flaps of his coat closed. Then he scanned the room one more time.
“This is your last chance, folks. Anyone who’s never made a mess can leave right now, because what I’ve got to say today isn’t for those of you who have always been saints. It’s for those of us who have had to clean our boots a few times.
“You see, ladies and gentlemen, I’ve done all those things I mentioned, and some more than once. I’ll carry those marks until my dying day, but God forgives, and we’ve got a duty—” he zeroed in on Ethan “—to forgive ourselves.”
Then he looked at Jayne. “And the people we love.”
This wasn’t the church service she had been expecting. Her pastor in Lexington had been stout and pink-cheeked with a fringe of white hair around his bald head. John Leaf didn’t fit that image, but it was obvious the people in Midas loved him.
An old lady in the front row let out a hoot. “Now, John, we all know you’ve got a past. Speculating keeps us widows entertained, but what you need is a wife. She’ll fix your wagon!”
The Reverend laughed out loud. “Well, Mabel, my wagon needs fixing, but that’s not going to happen today, or tomorrow, either. Frankly, there’s not a woman in the world who could put up with me.”
Female laughter rippled through the room.
“I get cranky when I’m tired. I cuss now and then. I toss back a shot of whiskey on occasion, but I think about it all the time. I’m weak-minded when it comes to looking at pretty women but strong-willed about everything else. I guarantee you. There’s not a lady here who’d want to wash my smelly socks.”
He shook his head. “I’m greedy, selfish and lazy as sin. Ask Mrs. Cunningham. She’s the parish housekeeper.”
A middle-aged woman gave an exaggerated sigh. “It’s true, ladies. Our good Reverend is the messiest man ever born, and I’ve outlived three husbands. He’s worse than my five sons all put together.”
Laughter filled the church. Even Ethan was smiling.
Reverend Leaf managed to look both sheepish and incorrigible. “It would take a saint to put up with me.” He cocked a grin. “Or a crazy woman. I’m pretty irredeemable, but I do have one or two good qualities. Anyone want to know what they are?”
“Oh, we know, Reverend.” The remark came from a butterball woman in the middle of the church. “You’d die for any one of us. You made the sheriff lock up Herbert Jones when he beat up Sally, and whenever there’s trouble, you’re the first one to show up.”
“And?” He arched one eyebrow and gave the old lady a wicked smile.
She huffed at him. “You’re nice-lookin’ to boot.”
“That’s right, and I’m modest, too.”
As John Leaf told tales and spun stories that wove together parables and proverbs, Jayne became enthralled. He preached about life in all its heartache and glory. About failed hopes, promises still to be kept and about loving imperfect men. And imperfect women.
Long before he reached the final amen, she decided to talk to him after the service. She loved Ethan and wanted to believe he loved her, but her heart was still bruised from last night. She didn’t think she could bear that pain again.
After a final hymn, the congregation rose to its feet and Reverend Leaf closed the service with a prayer and a sincere “Amen.” Smiling men and women streamed from the front pews.
Ethan sought her gaze. “Are you ready?”
“Not quite. Would you mind waiting for me outside? I’d like to talk to Reverend Leaf in private.”
He hesitated, then lifted his hat off the bench. “All right. I’ll be out front.”
As the last few people approached the door, Jayne joined the greeting line. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl in red lurking by the cloakroom. Realizing that they both wanted a private moment with the Reverend, and that the girl had been fighting tears all morning, Jayne took her place in line.
Shaking John Leaf’s hand, she said, “I’d like a word with you in private, but I think someone else needs you more right now.”
He’d already seen the girl. “Come back in fifteen minutes or so.”
“All right.”
She didn’t want to see Ethan yet, so she slipped out the side door and ambled through the church garden where someone had planted roses. With her hands laced behind her back, she bent forward, closed her eyes and sniffed.
The sweet fragrance brought to mind the bouquet Ethan had given her at Laura’s grave. Her heart swelled with longing, but her stomach was in a knot. She understood that last night’s argument had been the kind of tiff couples had all the time, but how did she stop feeling the shadow of Laura’s presence? She was wondering what the Reverend would say when a man’s rough hands grabbed her wrists and spun her around.
“Sheriff Handley!” she cried.
“Jayne Dawson, you’re under arrest. Or should I call you Jayne McKinney?”
“I’m Jayne Trent now. Please, I have to find Ethan.”
Smirking, the sheriff let go of her hands but stepped closer, trapping her against the thorny bush. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked peeved to say the least. “I’m taking you to jail, miss.”
“This is a mistake,” Jayne cried. “We posted a bond in Raton. If you speak with Chief Roberts, you’ll see—”
“What I see is your face on a Wanted poster in my office. Let’s go.” He planted his hand on her back and shoved her into the middle of the garden.
“No, please,” she begged. “Ethan will be panicked. I can’t do that to him.”
“No way, lady. I let you out of my sight once and I’m not about to do it again.”
Ethan was getting tired of tapping his toe i
n front of the church. A good half hour had passed since the Reverend’s last amen, and neither Jayne nor John Leaf had moseyed over to the picnic table where men were cranking the ice-cream freezers.
Annoyed with both of them, he marched up the church steps just as the girl in red pushed through the door. For some fool reason, she smiled at Ethan and wished him a good day as he walked past her. He entered the sanctuary just in time to see the Reverend slip out a side door. Before it could swing shut, Ethan strode into the garden.
“Where the hell’s my wife?” he demanded.
The flash of surprise on the Reverend’s face put Ethan’s heart into a spin. “She’s not with you?”
“Hell no! She was waiting for you.”
“She was supposed to come back inside. I figured she would join the crowd until I finished up.”
Ethan grabbed at shreds of hope. Maybe she had walked to the train depot or the hotel, but it wasn’t likely. Even if she was still mad at him, she would have told him where she was going. Staring down the path leading to town, he said, “It’s bad, John. I can feel it in my bones.”
“I can, too.”
The Reverend was known for an uncanny ability to see trouble coming, and having him agree brought Ethan no comfort. “I hate to go to Handley, but I don’t think we have a choice.”
The two men headed straight to the sheriff’s office where Ethan pushed through the door first. His gaze ricocheted from Handley lazing at his desk with a newspaper to a cell where he saw Jayne locked up next to Horace Little, the town drunk and a lecherous piece of scum. Mercifully, Horace was passed out and snoring.
Ethan strode to Handley’s desk and pounded it once with his fist. “What the hell is my wife doing in your jail?”
After taking his sweet time to lower the newspaper, Handley rocked back in his squeaky chair and smirked. “You better be civil, Trent, or I’ll toss you in jail, too. You’ve been harboring a wanted woman.”
Provoking Handley wouldn’t help Jayne, so Ethan lowered his voice. “She’s a witness, Sheriff, that’s all. We have proof.”
West of Heaven Page 17
