by Linda Broday
He swiveled, disbelief written on his face.
“That’s a fool thing to say.”
“May be. Can’t help my upbringing.” She noted the stubborn jut of his chin and stuck out her own.
“You’re going back. This is no place for a lady.”
* * *
With her mother already in bed and Hope doing last-minute chores in the kitchen, Patience tiptoed into Glory’s alcove.
Her oldest sister’s secretive attitude toward a certain brown book whetted her curiosity. She’d watched Glory scribble in it, wondering why she slammed it shut when she caught anyone looking. Must be something awfully important.
Though she loved Glory dearly, she hated the way her sister shut her out. Treated her like a baby. They all did, but Glory was the one she most wanted to be.
She pursed her mouth as she glanced around, checking for possible hiding places.
Why, she was damn…darn near grown. In five more years, she’d be old enough to find her a rich husband and move off to the big city. Far away from this stinky town and its snooty people.
If Glory did hide something, where would she put it?
Without a sound, she dropped to the floor to peer beneath the bed. Too dark. She looked longingly at the oil lamp on the small bedside table. Couldn’t risk it.
A loud clang from the kitchen startled her. Hope would throw a fit if she found her going through Glory’s things. She’d better hurry if she didn’t want to get skinned alive.
She ran her hand along the floor, relying on touch. Nothing but dust. Disappointed, she lifted the edge of the feather mattress, sliding her hand between it and the sturdy rope frame.
Pay dirt, as Uncle Pete would say! Taking her prize, she slid the book under her nightgown.
“Patience Ann, come and dry these dishes.”
Hope’s order raised first panic, then her dander. One of these days they wouldn’t boss her around.
When she got big…
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.”
That loosened her feet. Wouldn’t do for anyone to come looking. She hurried from the room.
Hope turned and almost fell over her. “Mercy! Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a body?”
“I came like you said.”
Hope cast a suspicious eye. “From where? I didn’t hear you. Nearly scared a year’s growth out of me.”
“Bare feet don’t make noise.” Patience gave her the most innocent expression in her arsenal, hoping she wouldn’t notice the bulge or the protective way she folded her arm.
“Dry the dishes so we can go to bed.” Hope pitched a cloth at her.
Quick reflexes and a left-handed catch saved the flour-sack towel from landing on the floor. The action jiggled the book. It slid slowly down, gaining momentum.
“Wait a minute. I hafta do something first.”
“Hurry, then. I’d like to get some sleep before the sun comes up.”
She captured the escaping prize as she sped from the kitchen. Hastily, she shoved it under the covers of her bed. That’d do for now, she reckoned.
“When do you think Glory’ll be home?” she asked when she returned.
“I wouldn’t know.” Hope glanced up from her mending. “Why?”
Patience evaded her look, putting some elbow grease into wiping a plate. She strived for a casual shrug. “I miss her, that’s all.”
“Oh, yeah? About like a dog misses fleas.”
“I’m not dumb, you know. She went after Mr. Luke ’cause she wants his help in capturing Mad Dog Perkins so we can keep our farm and so we can get our papa out of prison.”
“Guess you overheard, huh?”
Patience gave a practiced righteous sniffle. “No one tells me anything. I’m not wet behind the ears. I’ve been dry back there for a while and I have a right to know what’s going on.”
“Sorry.” Hope bit a length of thread with her teeth and held it to the eye of the needle. “I guess you have a point, but we do it to shield you. Because we love you.”
“Well, I’m tired of it. I’m almost old enough to marry.”
A smile brightened Hope’s face. She put down the much-repaired petticoat and rose to embrace her. It felt nice. Real nice. Patience couldn’t remember the last time her mother held her close. She missed that.
“You know, for a kid you sure grow on a person. Definitely too big to leave on someone’s doorstep. Guess we’ll have to keep you. And yes, you are becoming a young woman a lot faster than any of us realize.” Hope kissed her forehead. “I’ll try to remember in the future. In the meantime, we have to stick together. All for one and one for all.”
Patience closed her eyes, savoring the closeness. If only Glory would do this. She worshipped her oldest sister.
Why, Glory could do everything. Could damn…darn well whip the biggest, meanest bear if it needed doing. And, she was pretty to boot. Patience envied her silky hair. So different from her own that looked as if someone had poured strawberry juice over her head and it left…a permanent stain.
“But do you think Glory’ll be gone a couple of days?”
“Given her stubborn streak, I can’t see her coming home until she gets what she went after.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d have the mysterious book back in place before Glory got home. Right after she read it. But she had plenty of time.
* * *
“Wet your whistle?” Luke passed the canteen. The fact that he didn’t drink first caught her notice.
Good manners marked a man worth knowing. So did the depth in his eyes. She respected a man whose gaze held substance. Even if she could never expect to be anything more than a passing fancy.
“Thank you.” A full swig moistened the dust in her mouth, including the whistle to which he’d referred. His long, capable fingers brushed hers when she handed it back.
Her gaze flitted over the bleak camp and lit on the rope laid carefully in a circle around his bedroll.
“You don’t seriously think that works?” She motioned to the folktale repellant.
Luke gave her a sheepish grin to go with the mulish tilt to his chin. “Haven’t been bit since I started doing that.”
“I suppose you did before?”
“No…”
“Then how do you know it works?”
“Just do, Miss Know-It-All.” He slapped at a pesky mosquito. “Go ahead, make fun of me. At least I’m not twenty and never been kissed.”
Heat flooded her face. “I have so. Lots of times.” He didn’t need to know those were almost cases. The taste of him lingered on her tongue. As for how many—it never paid for a man to get a swelled head.
“That’s not what Patience claims.”
“That sister of mine colors things with shades of her own choosing.” Thank goodness for the night’s cover.
Moonbeams bounced off the silver buttons on his shirt. He’d left the top closure open and the bib folded over, making a flap. To allow some cool air, she supposed. Or perhaps because he favored the rakish appearance it gave?
Truth to tell, the open collar lay just right to expose a powerful neck. Fine hair at his throat lay wistfully, seeming to beg for a tender touch.
He looked like a man who’d just paid for his pleasure and stood on the verge of plunder.
A heart-stealing cowboy.
A dangerous, forbidden attraction.
A double-crosser.
She reined in pestering thoughts, reminding herself such fancying would get her nowhere. McClain had no interest in her, leastwise none of the lasting kind.
“You better head for home. It’s getting late.” His low drawl carried the same subtle warning.
She wiped damp palms on her britches and swallowed hard. She couldn’t go back empty-handed. No matter what. Too many people dep
ended on her.
“I never agreed. I’m coming.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong.”
The announcement closed the door and locked it on any discussion. No mincing his words. Luke’s deep sigh sprang like a bubbling well, escaping with a loud noise. Caesar had competition in the mule-headed department.
She could dig in her heels as well. “Only one way you’ll get rid of me. Give me some answers.”
Exasperation riddled his stare. “This ain’t a bargaining table, but I reckon swapping a little chapter and verse in exchange for peace and quiet might be a fair trade.”
She winced at the reminder that he counted the seconds until she left. The questions almost stuck behind the lump in her throat.
“What are you hiding? Why do you want Perkins so bad?”
The silence was deafening. He fished something from his pocket and stared out over the dark landscape. She grew more curious as she watched him clench the item. When he opened his palm, she saw it.
A tin star.
At last he spoke. “He has something I want.”
“You mentioned you have just cause. Did he steal something from you?”
“Only my reason for living.” He picked up a rock and threw it with force. Somewhere in the darkness, she heard it fall.
“I don’t understand.” Whatever happened ate at him. It put a hardness inside where there hadn’t been. Having her father sent to jail had taught her all too well how much it crushed everything inside for someone to steal another’s life.
“I didn’t promise to make sense.”
“Try.”
“Perkins helped someone frame me for a crime that took my job as a Texas Ranger. I need to know who set me up and why. I’m assuming Perkins can fill in the blanks. When I catch up to him, I mean to ask. If I don’t beat him to death first.”
Now the purpose for his obsession made sense. She didn’t have to see his face. The grit in his tone betrayed him.
“You’re truly a lawman?”
“Not anymore.”
Suddenly, he pulled himself to his feet as if the ground had become a bed of hot coals. He stalked a few feet and stopped. His intent gaze into the unknown made her shudder. A fortune-teller could look into a crystal ball and read the future. Perhaps in a way he could as well. She wondered if he saw her somewhere in there. Perhaps in the worm-eaten apples section?
“Forgive me. It’s none of my business.” Glory stood. She should head Caesar back to Santa Anna. Luke didn’t want her here. He’d said so. She reached for her rifle.
“Wait. You should know the ugly truth. Then I won’t have to run you off. You’ll go of your own free will and ask yourself why you ever got tangled up with a man like me.”
The heavy pall froze her breath. Strange how she didn’t want to know more. His painful secret bore tremendous weight. She felt responsible, as if she’d conspired in the dastardly deed.
“I’m nothing but a miserable nobody.” He whirled and the torment in his face stunned her.
She realized the instant he clamped onto her arm she should’ve run. His grief became hers, for it swept over her with the urgency of a wall of floodwater.
“Did you hear what I said? And I shade the truth. Can’t even own up to what I’ve become. I had rather you and your family think the worst of me than see me for what I truly am. I’m a nobody. I have nothing. I am nothing.”
“Don’t say that…” She tried to close her ears, to block out the noise of his shattering soul.
Luke released his grip. “You deserve to know after patching me up. The moment I watched John Wesley Hardin in a duel with a U.S. Marshal, I found my calling. Then and there on Main Street in Waco I decided to become a lawman. But not just any—I wanted to be the best…a Texas Ranger, part of a special breed. I was fifteen years old at the time. Until a few months ago I lived my dream.”
He shook with deep-seated anger. “They stole that. Some low-down coward planted a stolen army payroll in my saddlebag, framing me for a bunch of stage robberies.”
“Couldn’t you explain what happened?”
He continued as if she’d never uttered a sound. “I’ll remember my commander’s disappointment long as I draw breath. He kicked me out.” Luke traced the tin star with loving fingers. “I’d rather be dead than not be a Texas Ranger. Lawin’ has been my purpose for crawling out of bed. It’s kept me warm in the rain and snow. I was… I am nothing without it.”
She ached for this proud man who had given everything and asked for pitifully little. “There has to be a way to get it back.”
“Only when, and if, I clear my name.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“You got a mouse in your pocket?” He put the badge away. “I go alone. This is my fight. Besides, you have enough to do. The farm, your father, not to mention your mother and sisters depending on you.”
His dark stare made her dream of impossible things she had no right to even think. It should be a crime to arouse this flurry swimming in her veins.
Ha! She tried to imagine locking up a man for having overmuch charm and magnetism.
Luke touched her jaw lightly with a knuckle. A blaze flared among the simmering ashes.
“You’d best go. It’s dangerous here.”
For a moment, she thought he wanted to say more. Then he stepped away and made long strides until he vanished from her circle of vision.
Disappointment sent her muddled brain gallivanting in forty different directions.
One thing stood out in unmistakable clarity. He had it backward about her not having a reason to stay. She could name a dozen reasons against leaving.
Eleven
“The Good Book says, ‘And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.’” Reverend Matthews paused, his gaze sweeping over the half-dozing congregation.
Movement out the open window caught Glory’s attention. Quickly covering her mouth, she hoped to stifle the gasp before anyone heard. Hope nudged her with an elbow and cast her a puzzled glance. Glory gestured toward the moving object.
Luke rode past the side of the church on Soldier. The man on a pale horse.
Cold chills raised the hair on her arms.
Strange the way the reverend picked that scripture to recite at that exact moment. McClain and death? She shivered. Too coincidental.
Then she glimpsed the limp body strapped across the horse’s rump and a sickening lump settled in her stomach. A dead man. It could be none other than Perkins.
Reverend Matthews slammed his hand on the pulpit, making her and the first ten saint-filled rows jump in alarm. Those sleeping came awake, darting red-faced looks around.
The preacher pointed a bony finger toward the door.
“I saaaid, ‘Aaand Hell followed with him’!”
Glory had never seen the usually mild man this aroused, not even when his daughter ran off with a gambler. Some unseen hand had reached down and sizzled the reverend’s hair, standing each strand on end. With scarlet cheeks, his eyes alight with a strange glow, he resembled some terrible demon.
Prickly claws inched up her back.
Knowing Luke’s circumstances, she figured hell could very well clutch at his coattails. She shuddered to think of the horrible significance of the dead body. For them both.
“Good people, the time is here to guard against that pale horse. Death rides silently, a thief in the night.” The reverend’s clothing dripped with sweat. “It rides looking for you…and for me. To steal us away to everlasting hell and damnation.”
She squirmed uncomfortably. If the preacher hadn’t pierced her with his stare, she’d have bolted for the door.
Finally, he arrived at the end of his sermon. The strange being returned the meek servant it’d held hostage. “Before we go, I respectful
ly request that each of you make welcome our newest citizen, Dr. Ted Dalton. Will you stand, Dr. Dalton, so folks can take a gander at you?”
Glory jerked to attention. Santa Anna had gotten a doctor and no one bothered to tell her? But then, she hadn’t been to town since she came to speak with Fieldings three days ago.
The newcomer rose. He stood tall, perhaps a tad taller than Luke. His dark coloring gave him an assured air. A quick smile. Nice. But not nearly as startling as Luke’s.
“And also, don’t forget to welcome Mr. an’ Mrs. Sagen and their sweet little daughter, Josephine.” The reverend pointed out the family who’d arrived within the month.
Glory hadn’t met them yet, although they were neighbors. The girl looked about the age of Patience. She hoped the two would strike up a friendship. At least the family hadn’t been in the community long enough to develop an aversion to the Days. Leastwise, she prayed not.
Speaking of baby sis, she had acted strangely ever since Glory walked into the kitchen yesterday morning after leaving Luke. In fact, Patience stared as if she’d seen a ghost. Now in church, Glory caught the girl’s amused smirk.
She wound her way through the milling congregation toward the doors, wondering what mischief Squirt had gotten into. No telling. Right this minute, she couldn’t worry about that. She had more important business.
Two more pews and she’d have clear sailing. Only she hadn’t counted on the new doctor standing with his hand out.
“Nice to meet you, Miss…” His dark eyes reminded her of chimney soot. Soft and sort of clingy.
“Day. Glory Day.” She found her hand lost in his firm grip. “Welcome to Santa Anna. I’m sure the community has duly expressed gratitude for your arrival.”
His name escaped her. Walton? Walston? Oh Lord, why hadn’t she paid attention? She returned his agreeable smile.
Before she could engage in further conversation, someone shoved. Luckily, the back of an empty pew kept her upright.
She might’ve known. Bess and Amelia giggled, each capturing an arm of the new doctor.
“Dr. Dalton, you must have Sunday dinner with us. We’ve brought enough food for an army.” Amelia flashed her dimples, batting her eyelashes in some sort of secret Morse code.
