“So you were climbing to the loft.”
“To see if you’d taken your things,” she admitted, unable to look at him.
“Well, I’m right here.” To her surprise, she felt his hands on her waist. “Let go, darlin’. I’ll catch you.”
Darling? Her heart fluttered precipitously. Had he just called her darling?
“Let go,” he urged again.
She forced her fingers to relax, and he lifted her as easily as he’d lifted Sasha. A thrill ran through her. His arms felt so secure, so perfect. The warmth of his chest, the beating of his heart, the way his touch sent tingles all over her. She could stay there forever. She ran a hand across his cheek and down to the little dimple in his chin.
“Thank—” The expression of gratitude stuck in her mouth when his frown didn’t ease. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t you go climbing that ladder again.” He deposited her in the center of the room. “Promise?”
She didn’t understand. One moment he was calling her darling and the next he scolded her and set her down like a sack of flour.
“I want your promise,” he insisted. “You can’t go getting hurt when you have a little girl to take care of.”
Charlotte wanted to say that he could take care of Sasha if something happened to her. That’s why God gave children two parents. But the hardness in his eyes frightened her.
He’d made up his mind.
“When do you leave?” The words stuck in her throat.
He drew in his breath and glanced at Sasha. “Tomorrow at dawn.”
She wrapped her arms around her midsection, unable to stop the shivering. Against all reason, she hoped he was going to look for Jakob. “How long do you think it will take to find him?”
“Find who?”
“Jakob.” She swallowed hard. “Didn’t Mason talk to you?”
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
The trembling got worse. She shut her eyes, unable to look upon the man she’d come to love. He was leaving, just as they agreed, but didn’t he see that everything had changed? Didn’t he feel a thing? The steely eyes told her he didn’t.
She drew in a shuddering breath. Holly had told her to tell Wyatt she loved him, but what would it change now? He’d made up his mind.
“Please don’t,” she whispered. Those two little words were all she could get out without breaking down.
“I have to.”
She heard the creak of wood and opened her eyes to see him climbing into the loft. Moments later, he returned with the saddlebags slung over his shoulder.
“Maybe it’s better if I go now.” His voice betrayed no emotion. It was cold, hard as the day they met.
Charlotte shook her head, unable to speak. Her throat constricted and burned. Tears threatened. How could he? After all they’d been through? After all they’d shared? After the way he’d stood up for the town and been welcomed as a hero?
He paused at the door, and for a moment his gaze softened. “I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t enough. Nothing could be enough to mend the jagged tear in her soul. Yet another person was leaving her. She wasn’t supposed to care for him in such a short space of time. This was supposed to be only a business transaction. That’s all she’d asked of him. Help her keep Sasha.
She looked over at the little girl. “She’ll miss you.”
The silence lasted so long that she feared he’d gone, but when she looked back at the door, he was still there. The hat cast a dark shadow over his eyes.
“Tell her I’ll miss her, too,” he said softly.
A dose of uncharacteristic boldness struck Charlotte. Tell him you love him, Holly had said. Charlotte couldn’t admit that. She wasn’t entirely sure herself. But Sasha loved him. This she knew. “Tell her yourself.”
His head snapped back as if she’d struck him.
Once her tongue had loosed, she could not stop it. “Tell her in the morning. It’s only right.” This time Wyatt Reed had to face the repercussions of his actions. This time she would not make excuses to Sasha or anyone else.
He stood at the door, unmoving. Behind him, night crept over Evans Grove with the hum of crickets and the pale light of a waxing moon. “It will only hurt her to see me leave.”
“Better than to wonder why you don’t come back. Tell her. She deserves that much, at least.”
For a long time he hesitated. “All right. But in the morning, I go.”
Thank You, God. She had one night to figure out a way to change his mind.
* * *
Wyatt should have resisted Charlotte’s plea. He could more easily face a gun leveled at his head than that woman’s tears. Now he’d gone and promised to stay until morning, which would only double the pain tomorrow. Sweet stars, he’d have to walk out on Sasha. What would he tell her?
As the evening progressed, he began to realize that Charlotte seemed to think she could change his mind about leaving. Why? Other than a few brief moments when emotion got the best of her, she kept her distance. From the start she’d known he had to leave, but now she was acting like she wanted him to stay. It made his head spin. It also didn’t change the fact that he was putting both Charlotte and Sasha in danger every moment that he stayed in Evans Grove.
The woman gave him no chance to talk. She picked at her plate of cabbage and salt pork while he ate. The entire time, she prattled on and on about the missing Strauss boy and how his sister was doomed to return to New York. Better New York than Greenville, Wyatt was beginning to think.
What he couldn’t get through his head was why she thought he’d take the job.
“Let me make this clear. No one’s hiring me.”
Charlotte smiled broadly. “You’d be working in your capacity as deputy sheriff.”
The pieces fell into place. “And you think Mason will ask me to go after the lad.”
She jutted out her chin. “Of course. We figure by now Jakob must have reached the county.”
“And how exactly did you figure that?”
She looked at him as if he was plumb out of his mind. “It’s been more than a month since he ran away, and it’s only seventy miles or so from Glenwood to here. Even though he’s on foot, he’d have made it this far by now.”
The lad would have made it here a whole pile sooner barring disaster. Wyatt didn’t bother to mention all the calamities that could befall a boy on his own. Hunger, coyotes, Indians, outlaws. None of them were fit for a woman’s ears.
“When will you start looking for him?” Charlotte asked as she cleared the empty plates from the table.
He hesitated as a new idea took hold. While he was working on bringing Baxter down, he could look around for that boy at the same time, ask a few questions. If the boy could be found, then once he took care of Baxter, Wyatt could send Jakob to Evans Grove for that brother/sister reunion that had Charlotte so excited. Then she might not even mind that Wyatt wouldn’t be returning. At least it would take the sting out of it.
No matter how much he wanted to stay in Evans Grove, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t shirk his responsibilities, mind you. He’d do his best to take care of the wife and child he’d taken as his own...but he’d do it from a distance. Charlotte deserved better than a man with such horrors in his past. He’d give her this one last gift—the boy Jakob Strauss, if he was anywhere to be found—and then he’d head out to San Francisco like he’d always planned. San Francisco. Funny how that place didn’t hold near as much appeal as it had just a week ago.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll talk to Sheriff Wright in the morning.”
Just like he figured, the announcement made her clasp her hands together with joy.
“Oh, thank you, thank you.”
Her infernal tears started again, but he didn’t much mind the happy kind. Her cheeks flushed that pretty shade of rose, like Sasha’s day-old wild geraniums stuffed into a mason jar in the center of the table.
Charlotte fairly glowed in the lamplight, her eyes bright. “A fo
urteen-year-old boy shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
Fourteen? Wyatt’s skin crawled. Baxter wanted only the older kids—fourteen-year-olds like Jakob. He wondered about the boy at Star Plains farm. He’d been older. The farm owners weren’t his ma and pa. Was Baxter sending those kids into what amounted to indenture? If so, and if Jakob Strauss had already reached Greenville, Baxter might have sent him off already.
“Promise me you’ll look until you find him.” Charlotte placed her delicate hand on his large, rough one.
No need to tell her about the danger he feared the boy might be in. Not until he had more information. Information that he would gather while he uncovered Baxter’s plans. “I’ll talk to Mason in the morning.”
Only it wouldn’t be to discuss taking on this job she’d concocted. He’d be handing in his badge.
Chapter Eighteen
Wyatt’s nightmares returned that night. Charlotte awoke sometime in the early hours and heard him thrashing and groaning in the loft. Though he did not cry loudly enough to wake Sasha, his torment pulled at Charlotte. What had he gone through to lead to these horrible dreams? How could she help him get past this?
She hesitated at the foot of the ladder. Wyatt had made her promise not to climb it, but so had Charles, and that ladder had separated them for thirteen years. This time she could not let something so insignificant stand between her and a chance at the future she wanted. Though Wyatt had told her he’d talk to the sheriff about looking for Jakob, she sensed he was holding something back, something he would not tell her. Maybe that’s what had brought on the nightmares again. Maybe she could provide the comfort and assurance he needed.
Please, Lord, help me find the words.
She crawled up the ladder, and with each step her certainty grew. What Wyatt needed most was the peace that only God could give. That resolve propelled her up the steps and into the loft, where the moonlight revealed Wyatt’s torture. He still tossed and moaned, the bedsheet wrapped around him like a shroud. Up here near the roof, the heat was so oppressive that she could barely draw a breath. No wonder the poor man was feverish.
He groaned and rolled away from her, wrapping the sheet even tighter around his body. She tugged at the sheet. It was soaked with perspiration. Poor man! Charles must have suffered the heat, too, yet he’d never said a word. Charlotte bit back regret for all the times she’d scolded him. She should have done more to soften his grief. All that time she’d thought only of her needs, not his. Maybe if she’d gone to him with patience and understanding, he could in time have overcome the loss of his wife.
She’d failed Charles.
She would not fail Wyatt.
“Wyatt,” she said softly into his ear. “Wake up.”
He groaned and rolled back toward her. “Sarlot,” he mumbled.
Had he just spoken her name? It had come out so garbled, that she wasn’t sure, but at least he hadn’t called for Margaret.
She placed a hand on his damp forehead. “It’s me. I’m here.”
His face contorted. “Charlotte! Run!”
His arms flailed, and she ducked below a punch that would have knocked her senseless. The move made her lose her balance, and she fell backward to the edge of the loft.
Her backside landed on the boards. The momentum carried her toward the edge. Her hand grasped air.
She shrieked.
He bolted upright. “Charlotte!”
In the moonlight, his eyes were wide as they searched for her. She didn’t dare reach for him lest she lose her precarious balance.
“Wyatt!”
But he didn’t see her. Her vision began to blur and fade, and she slipped back, back, until something jerked her forward.
“Charlotte, come back to me.” Wyatt held her so tightly that she could feel the pounding of his heart against her cheek. “Why did you come up here? I told you not to climb that ladder.”
Only it wasn’t an accusation. Fear trembled his voice, and his arms held her tightly, as if he’d never let go.
She threaded her arms around his broad chest and looked up to that perfectly chiseled face. In the moonlight he looked as fine as a marble statue, utterly perfect in every way, and she knew she was falling in love with him. Yes, she was. Old hurts warned her to be cautious, but if Wyatt offered up just one more sign of commitment on his part—to the town, to God, to her and Sasha—she’d be willing to give him her heart completely.
“I’m not afraid of the ladder anymore. God was with me.” She held her breath, half-afraid of his reaction.
Instead of stiffening, he held her closer. “I’m glad.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant her burst of courage or God’s protective presence. At least he didn’t close his heart like he’d done in the past. She laid her head on his shoulder. “You were having nightmares again.”
He kissed the top of her head and ran his fingers through her hair. “I remember. I didn’t want you to...” He never finished the sentence, instead dropping his lips to her forehead.
Then he gently tilted her head, and Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat. Was he going to truly kiss her this time? Would this be the moment when he made that commitment, and told her that he wanted this marriage to be more than a business deal? Would she finally get the love and family she’d always wanted?
* * *
Sasha’s cries startled them both, making Wyatt pull away. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to revealing the depth of his feelings to Charlotte. He should thank Sasha for interrupting them before he made a fool out of himself. He was leaving in the morning. He couldn’t let himself forget that again.
What had he been thinking?
But she’d been there, the vision of his dreams only lovelier. Her profound faith had touched something deep inside, that part of him that still wanted to believe in a loving God, and for a moment he’d longed to seize that life with all his heart. Her very real presence had erased the nightmare that she’d died in Atlanta’s flames. Charlotte wasn’t in Georgia. She’d never been to Georgia. No, she lived a perfectly safe life in Evans Grove, Nebraska.
Safe only if Baxter didn’t come after her.
That reality hit him hard the next morning. He had to leave. At once. If he stayed much longer, he’d put her in jeopardy. And it wasn’t enough to just leave—he had to make it clear to Evans Grove that he wasn’t coming back. Baxter had to believe Wyatt didn’t care one ounce for Charlotte. Only then would she and Sasha be safe.
So he packed his saddlebags and descended for breakfast. She was so happy to believe he was heading out to find Jakob that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the rest—that whether he found the boy or not, he wouldn’t be returning.
“I hope you find him quickly,” she said with a shy smile. “I can’t wait for you to get back.” Her eyes said what her lips would not. She cared for him. Maybe even enough to want to make their marriage real.
The thought nearly made him lose his head. How easy it would be to stay. He could stake out the place, use his sharpshooting skills to keep Baxter and his cronies at bay. Maybe Mason would help.
But Baxter knew about his past. Once he told Mason, Wyatt’s stint as deputy sheriff would be over, anyway. Killers don’t become lawmen. They’re hanged. And a dead man was no good to Charlotte. Better he live and send her everything he could earn than die and leave her destitute.
Sasha banged her spoon on the table and refused to eat her oatmeal. He couldn’t blame her. Oatmeal had never been his favorite.
“You’ll need to eat up for our Saturday-morning playtime,” Charlotte said brightly. “We’ll see Aunt Holly and Miss Sterling and all your friends.”
“Aunt Holly?” Wyatt was surprised by this new title Charlotte was using. Were they related?
“It’s easier than explaining the change of last names,” Charlotte said before turning back to Sasha. “Won’t it be fun to see everyone again?”
The week before, the women had decided to make Saturday mornings a t
ime for the orphans to play together and share what was happening in their lives.
“Some of them see each other at school,” Charlotte had explained, “but the little ones only see each other at church. Rebecca and Holly think this time together will be good for them.”
Wyatt didn’t see much harm in it, unlike what he was about to do.
“Rebecca will be so excited to hear you’re going to find Jakob,” Charlotte said, oblivious to what was about to happen.
He felt terrible about it. He felt worse than terrible. The poor woman had just lost a husband. Now she’d be publicly abandoned. But he didn’t see any way around the hurt. Like a festering blister, best to lance it to get the infection out. She didn’t know it yet, but he was the germ inside that boil. Best he get out before his presence killed her.
He shoveled down his oatmeal and made a show of heading out to see Mason. After handing in his badge and waiting for her and Sasha to head to the schoolhouse, he’d double back to get his saddlebags and leave her the note explaining the provision he’d made for her and Sasha. Telling her in a note was the coward’s way out, but he couldn’t say it to her face. He cared too much for her. He wanted a life with her. If he looked in her eyes, he would stay, and that would bring death to her doorstep.
Charlotte would be hurt when she read the note, but she had lots of friends here. She’d get over it.
He wasn’t so sure he would.
* * *
Charlotte had never been happier. She had a daughter, a home and a husband who might be starting to love her, just as she was starting to love him. Once he found Jakob and came back to town, they’d finally talk—and then they could take the first steps toward making their marriage real.
When Wyatt gets back. She savored the life they’d have together. Shared meals, evenings strolling by the creek, Sunday picnics. She might even let him take Sasha on a horseback ride when she got older.
She hoped it wouldn’t take him long to find Jakob. All he had to do was backtrack to Glenwood. Jakob would stay on the train route. The task was so simple that she wondered why no one had attempted it yet. She supposed everyone had been too caught up in the train robbery, rebuilding the town and the fate of the orphans. She certainly had.
Christine Johnson Page 18
