The last half hour of the trip passed quickly. Case and Deborah sang. Between songs Case exclaimed over the flowers and birds and everything else they passed along the way.
By the time Luke had slowed the team in front of the general store, he’d almost forgotten Deborah’s unflattering accusations. Almost.
“Whoa.” He pulled back on the reins then looked to Deborah for instructions.
“Case, dearest, why don’t you run inside and see if the shopkeeper has any penny candy.” She pulled a coin from her reticule and pressed it into his hand.
Case looked confused. “Aren’t you two coming?”
“Yes, in just a minute. Luke and I have something to discuss first.”
Case shot Luke a pitying glance. “Are you sure you don’t want to come on with me?”
“In a minute. You run along.”
Luke hopped down from the wagon to lift Case out. As he did, Case whispered, “Think she means to yell at you? Would you rather I stay?”
Luke grinned as he gently lowered the boy to the ground and waited for him to gain his balance before releasing him. “You go ahead,” he whispered back. “I can handle your sister.”
Case didn’t look convinced. “Don’t let her send you away. Remind her she promised you could stay.”
Luke ruffled his hair. “I’ll remind her.”
Case stepped up onto the grayed plank sidewalk and limped up to the store, stopping several times to send an unhappy look to Luke over his shoulder before entering.
Luke walked back around to the front of the wagon and climbed onto the bench. “What is it you want to discuss?”
She kept her eyes downcast, trained on her hands folded in her lap. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.”
She raised her eyes to his. “I can’t. I spoke without thinking earlier—”
“It’s nothing.”
Deborah refused to be deterred. “—and I hurt you.”
This time it was Luke who looked away.
“I’m truly sorry, Luke. Case was right to scold me. I know better than to think you’re a thief.”
She reached over to lay her small, gloved hand on his. When he looked up she said, “I haven’t known you long, but I am certain that I’ve never met a more honorable man than you. You are kind, hardworking, gentle, and intelligent, and Case and I are blessed to call you our friend.”
As if that wasn’t enough to send his senses reeling, Deborah leaned up and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before scrambling down off the bench in a flurry of skirts. Once on the ground, she raised her face to his, her smooth skin flaming beneath her bonnet, and said primly, “Meet us in the store after you’ve completed your business.” With that she turned and darted up into the store.
For a long moment Luke stared after her in mute amazement. A man didn’t usually have that many nice things said over him when he was laid to rest. To have heard all that, and get kissed, and still be alive to enjoy it was just about more than he could stand.
Finally he hopped off the bench, secured the team, and headed down the dirt street with the swagger of a man with the world in his pocket. It was an unusual feeling to be appreciated, one he wouldn’t mind getting used to.
Luke strode past the livery and the blacksmith, past the saloon, to the sturdy stone office at the end of the street that served as bank and post office. He had his hand on the doorknob and was about to step inside when a man standing by the door of the jail across the street caught his eye.
Luke’s hand fell away from the door as he turned around for a closer look. “Adam?”
The man at the jail lifted his head and looked over toward Luke.
Luke stepped down off the sidewalk and started across the street. “Adam Waldrip?” he called, louder this time.
This time the man took a step forward. “Luke? Is that you?”
Both men hurried now, meeting in the middle of the road.
“Luke!” A wide grin split Adam’s face as he clapped a hand on Luke’s back. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. How long has it been?”
Luke smiled back at the one man besides Cyrus he called friend. “Long time, Adam. Too long.”
Adam stepped back to study Luke. “The years seem to sit awful well on you.” He shook his head with mock dismay. “Must be that savage blood that preserves you so well.”
Luke snorted at the oft-repeated jibe. “Wish I could say the same for you. Cryin’ shame you get uglier every time I see you. It’s a wonder the townsfolk haven’t asked you to wear a feed sack over your head to keep from frightening the children and livestock.”
Easily the best-looking man west of the Mississippi and uncomfortably aware of it, Adam threw back his head and laughed. “I’ve missed you, Luke. Have you got a minute? We’ve got some catching up to do.”
When Adam placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder and steered him back toward the jail, Luke asked, “Where’re we headed?”
Adam nodded toward the jail. “My office.”
“The jail?” Belatedly Luke noticed the star on Adam’s chest. “You’re the law?”
Adam grinned. “Only temporarily.”
“I’ll bet there’s a story that goes along with the badge,” Luke said.
Adam swung open the door and stepped aside for Luke to enter. “You can hear the whole thing over a cup of coffee.”
Luke pulled up a chair and sat down while Adam went to the back to get the coffee.
Adam returned seconds later and handed Luke a cup. “What’re you doing back in Texas? I thought we’d seen the last of you.”
Luke shrugged. It was too difficult to try to explain the longing that drove him here, the void that prevented him from settling down. “Thought I might come back and check on Cyrus.”
“He’s gone, Luke. Got a wild hair to move farther west.”
Luke nodded. “I know.”
“You’ve been out to his place already?”
“Been living there a couple of weeks.”
Adam laughed. “I should have known you were in town when Crandall told me about a tall fellow who appeared out of the shadows like an avenging angel to save him from certain death.”
“You know Crandall?”
“Jed Crandall? Big rancher fella? Sure. I must have run into him just days after you did. He’s the one who talked me into taking this job.” Adam pointed to the badge. “I told him I’d do it until they could find someone else. I’m thinking of settling down here and opening law offices.” Adam suddenly frowned. “If you’ve been out at Cyrus’s place for a couple of weeks, how come I haven’t seen you before?”
“I haven’t been into town. Haven’t had any time. Woman’s been running me pretty hard.”
A predatory gleam lit Adam’s eyes as he moved his chair closer to Luke’s. “A woman, huh? This is getting interesting. What’s a woman doing out at Cyrus’s place? With you?”
“She’s kin. A niece of his.”
“Oh.” Adam’s face fell. “She look like him?”
Luke chuckled. Cyrus was a kind man with a heart as big as Texas, but he was two shades uglier than sin. Deborah was a vision. Still, it might not be a bad thing for Adam to suspect a family resemblance.
Luke had witnessed firsthand Adam’s almost mythical powers over the ladies, and he didn’t want him within fifty yards of Deborah for fear she’d fall under his spell. “Definitely family,” he said with a deliberately misleading nod.
“Too bad. Why are you hanging around?”
“She and her kid brother are all alone out there. I couldn’t very well turn my back on them. Not after all Cyrus did for me.”
“It’s that code of honor of yours,” Adam said with a knowing nod. “Seems it’s always getting you into a mess.” He chuckled. “Of course, I’m grateful you have it. I’d be a dead man if it wasn’t for that sense of honor that makes you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Still, I hate to see you trapped playing nursemaid to some old spinster.”
&n
bsp; Luke released the long-suffering sigh of a martyr. “I’ve got to do it.”
Adam wagged his head. “You’re a better man than I. Is there anything I can do to help?”
There was something. It was humiliating to have to ask another man to perform such a simple task, even if the man was his friend. “As a matter of fact, there is. She and her brother need horses. I told her I’d get a couple for them, but I really don’t have time to ride south to get them. I was on my way to the bank to get someone to write a letter to Juan, asking him to send me a pair…”
Adam saved him the embarrassment by suggesting, “Why don’t you let me write the letter? Let me get a pen and paper, and you can tell me what to say.”
It was nearly three-quarters of an hour later when Luke strode up the hard-packed dirt of Main Street toward the general store. Time had gotten away from him as he’d visited with Adam. They’d had over a year of history to catch each other up on.
As he walked, Luke allowed himself the luxury of a daydream. He imagined settling down in one place, with a good woman by his side, a fine boy to raise, and a loyal friend for a neighbor. He was so entrenched in his thoughts he didn’t see the man staggering out of the saloon and into his path until he was nearly on top of him.
Luke’s arm caught the man’s shoulder hard enough to spin him around. Luke tried to catch him, but his reaction was a fraction of a second too late, and the man hit the ground with a thud.
“I’m sorry,” Luke said, bending over him to give him a hand up. “I wasn’t watching.”
The man, pitifully thin and unshaven, squinted up at Luke through the cloud of dust he’d raised when he fell. “An Indian.” He cursed, his speech slurred with liquor. “Shoulda known. Indians think they own the West.” He cursed again.
Luke ignored the insults. “Here,” he said as he reached out his hand, “let me help you up.”
The man spat on the ground. “I’m not touchin’ no filthy Indian.”
The remark was almost funny coming from a man so encrusted with dirt Luke could scarcely tell if he was black or white. “Suit yourself.” He left the man lying there and turned to walk away.
“Wait!” The man labored to his hands and knees, stirring up more dust in the process, and after several wobbly false starts, pulled himself to his feet. He stood there, swaying unsteadily, as he tried to focus bloodshot eyes on Luke’s face. “I’ve seen you before,” he said at last.
Luke shook his head. He’d never laid eyes on the man before today. The poor drunk was delusional. Luke turned to go.
“I’ve seen you before,” the man insisted.
Luke could see Deborah and Case standing out in front of the store, waiting on him. He walked toward them, picking up his pace to shake the drunk who now followed him, shouting in a raspy voice, “I know you.”
“Who is that?” Deborah asked in a nervous whisper when Luke arrived at the front of the store.
Luke cast a careless glance over his shoulder to see the drunk stumbling along some twenty yards away. “Nobody. Just a drunk.”
Even so, Luke was determined to be gone before the man caught up to them. His shouting was beginning to draw a crowd, and Luke didn’t want Deborah and Case exposed to the crude insults. He took the paper-wrapped packages from Deborah’s arms. “Is this all?”
“The rest is already loaded in the wagon.”
“Good. Let’s go.” He caught her elbow and hurried her to the wagon, with Case ambling along behind them.
Luke tossed Case into the back of the well-loaded wagon, then gave Deborah a hand up before going around to climb onto the bench beside her.
The drunk was almost alongside them when Luke took the reins and signaled the team to go. The man shouted something, his words too slurred to understand, as they rolled by him.
“He’s creepy, Luke,” Case whispered from behind him. “I wish he’d go away.”
“He’s just a poor old drunk, Case,” Luke assured him as he steered the team out of town. “Nothing to worry about.”
But even as he spoke the words, Luke knew they were false. His sixth sense told him to worry plenty.
CHAPTER 13
Deborah pulled off her apron and hung it next to Luke’s jacket on a wooden peg in the hall. She leaned the handle of her broom against the wall and stepped into the sitting room. Her full skirts whispered across the polished wood floor as she crossed to the silk-covered settee and sat down.
The sitting room was her retreat. She liked to come in here when Case and Luke were busy elsewhere, to be alone with her thoughts.
The settee, a delicately carved mahogany round side table beside it, and the richly patterned oval rug beneath them were all of the rich trappings of her former life that she had brought along. Those few pieces were the only hint of the life that had once been hers.
The elegant furniture looked out of place in the crude log room, but when she sat among the heirlooms, her few connections to her family in Louisiana, she felt a sense of strength and peace. She did her best thinking here.
Not that she came in to lament the changes in her life. The transition from lady to frontier woman had been a difficult one, but well worth the cost. The exchange of her smooth white hands for red hands roughened by hard work was a small price to pay for the rich new life they’d found.
Warm sunlight poured in through the windows. Deborah looked up, smiling at the effect of the cheery yellow calico curtains she and Luke had hung just last night. She’d never made curtains before, but the log room needed something to soften it, and the gathers of fabric did the trick nicely. They gave the room a welcoming feel.
Luke said he would build her some shelves to display knickknacks. She thought she’d place them on the wall between the windows for a finishing touch.
When she looked around, it was difficult to believe this was the same room they’d discovered a month ago. All the hours of backbreaking work, the hours of hauling and scrubbing and polishing, had unearthed a cozy little haven. A home.
She hadn’t realized just how oppressive it had been living under Aunt Mimi’s roof, until she discovered the freedom of their little home in Texas. Neither she nor Case would ever be the same.
Deborah could hear Case out in the yard, playing with their new chickens. From the squawking sound of things, the chickens weren’t enjoying the game. She stood and walked to the window for a look.
Case was standing next to the new chicken coop he and Luke had built, a flailing chicken clamped to his chest, and an ear-to-ear grin on his face while the other chickens flapped wildly at his feet. She laughed at the sight of her brother trying to cuddle a hen.
This was not the same pale, sickly little boy she’d brought from Louisiana. His color had improved steadily over the month they’d been in Texas. The child positively glowed with health. He was stronger and steadier on his feet than she had ever seen him. Not that she should be surprised. With the enormous amount of food he was putting away at mealtimes, he should be growing in leaps and bounds.
She leaned her forehead against the cool pane to watch him play. While all the physical changes in Case were impressive, the change that most delighted her was his new air of self-assurance.
Her brother had always been treated as an invalid. Because of his handicap, he’d never been allowed to do anything for himself. Though she’d acted out of love, Deborah regretted all the years she’d deprived him of opportunities to accomplish anything. By trying to protect him from harming himself, she’d actually done him harm.
Luke had changed all that. Whether with her approval or not, he’d insisted Case be treated as a normal child with normal responsibilities. Though she might not agree with all his methods—a shudder still ran through her every time she thought of the knife incident—she had to admit that the results were amazing.
By allowing Case to do things for himself, to succeed or fail, Luke had given her brother the thing he needed most: confidence.
She watched a moment more before drifting
from the window back to the settee. It wasn’t thoughts of Luke’s effect on her brother that brought her to the sitting room this afternoon. It was Luke’s effect on her.
From the very first time she’d met him, Luke had dominated her thoughts, though the direction of the thoughts had altered radically. In the beginning, she’d feared the tall, fierce-looking Indian. Later, when she realized he meant no harm to Case or her, she’d resented his high-handed, self-appointed guardianship. What’s more, she resented Luke’s interference with her brother.
She’d even battled some jealousy when she saw the place Luke held in her brother’s affection. Case had always looked up to her, always believed she’d hung the moon. How could she compete with a powerful Indian who could do everything she could do and more?
Then, slowly, without her even being aware, things began to change. Luke became less of a fearsome intruder and more of a welcome member of the family.
She wasn’t sure just when it happened. One day she’d found herself looking forward to seeing his slow, heart-stopping smile. She wanted to hear his opinions on farming, ranching, and even Case.
When was it she first caught herself watching Luke’s handsome face, suddenly alive to every movement of his dark brow or stubborn jaw? When was it that the searching look in his eyes first penetrated to her soul? When did the brush of his arm against her shoulder or the feel of his strong hand in hers begin to ignite sparks?
She couldn’t pinpoint precisely when the changes began, but she had a pretty good idea they’d all started with the reading lessons. Suddenly Luke had no longer been perfect. He had been flesh and blood with very human weaknesses and needs. In the face of Luke’s vulnerability, Deborah had tossed away her fears and reservations, and in the process, she’d lost her heart.
The Brides of the Old West: Five Romantic Adventures from the American Frontier Page 64
