by Linda Broday
Glory stared. “You’re fibbing. Take it back.”
“No, and you can’t make me.” Patience squealed, running when Glory leaped for her.
Hope blocked her way. “Quiet. You’ll wake Mama.”
“Tell that to our little sister.”
* * *
Through the first rays of dawn, Luke paused on a little knoll. He glanced back at the darkened Day house, which loomed like a silent, gray ghost by Red Bank Creek. The idea of the overstuffed banker taking the one thing the family had left filled him with rage. He meant to keep that from happening by whatever means necessary. The way he saw it, only one answer came to mind—he’d have to take matters into his own hands. No other way. He couldn’t break his promise to a little girl.
Or the one he made silently to himself.
Foreboding threaded a trail from his gut, stopping only when it wound itself around his heart. Glory could barely see to the family’s basic needs now. How long did she have before blindness stole it all?
At least he could do this one last thing.
He wheeled toward his destination and that’s when he first saw the gaping holes every hundred yards or so.
“Damn! Soldier, I’m glad we waited for light or you’d have broken your fool neck falling into one.” He smoothed the ripples in his faithful companion’s neck. “Can’t be gophers. Never saw one that could make a hole that big.” He edged closer. Shovel marks. “Nope, a man dug these.”
If they were fresh graves, someone intended to bury half of Texas and was working on the other half. Luke carefully guided Soldier around them. Just beyond a clump of scrawny post oak trees he discovered the culprit in the act.
“Mister, digging all these holes is dangerous, not to mention a lot of work.” Luke made sure he had a clear path to his holster in case the lunatic attacked him with the shovel. He didn’t trust anyone crazy enough to dig up half the countryside.
“Morning.” The man wiped his brow before resting on the shovel handle. He squinted up at Luke. “Tolerable hot day to be so early. Say, ain’t you that young feller been staying over at my sister’s? The one who got hisself shot?”
Cotton-pickin’, the whole blamed state appeared to know about his accident.
“Are you referring to the Day family?”
“Ruth Day is my sister. Them nieces o’ mine are pretty girls.” The hole digger winked as if they shared a confidence. “Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. I’m Pete Harvey.”
“Luke McClain.” He leaned down to shake the man’s hand.
“I seen you riding into town with Perkins. You the one what stretched his neck?”
“Nope.” He glanced curiously at the field of holes. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing, Pete?”
Glory’s uncle swung his gaze right and left to make sure they were alone, then whispered loudly, “Looking for treasure.”
“Ah, I see.” Luke didn’t need a second opinion to confirm that the man had bats in the belfry. He whispered back, “Having any luck?”
“Ain’t no need to lower your voice, sonny, not a soul out here but us. Haven’t found anything, but I ain’t giving up.”
“That’s the spirit. Don’t want to keep you. Guess I’ll mosey on.” He ordered Soldier forward, muttering out of earshot, “Sure hope his brand of madness is confined only to the males in the family.” What were the odds?
* * *
The next few days brought a flurry of exciting changes. Alex O’Brien began calling on Hope, which brought a pleasing bloom to her middle sister’s cheeks, and Patience found a friend in Josie Sagen. Yet, Glory could see little reason for cheer in her own world. Her missing journal hadn’t jumped from its hiding place yet, the foreclosure date on the farm kept moving closer, her father continued to die, and…
It positively had nothing to do with Luke. He could go and stay gone for all she cared. She didn’t give him a fleeting thought. Other reasons caused this black mood.
She jerked open the kitchen door, put a foot down as usual, and cleared all three porch steps before landing with a thud on the ground.
Hell’s bells!
A mound of feathers wouldn’t make her trip unless…
From her vantage point it resembled a big bird. Holding her backside, she got to her feet. Since her flight over the top hadn’t budged the thing, it must be dead. She grabbed the feet and lifted. A turkey, sure enough. Puzzled, she glanced around for signs of visitors. Nothing but the sudden stirring of a barn owl marred the early stillness.
The bullet hole pretty much ruled out death from natural causes. Now who in their right mind would put a freshly killed turkey on their doorstep?
Her thoughts automatically flew to Luke. He did think them a charity case after all.
In his not-so-subtle attempt to take charge of the family’s empty cupboards, he’d stolen her last shred of dignity. She shook her fist toward the road.
Just wait until Mr. Fix-It came back. Would he have a surprise!
Fourteen
“Haven’t seen that friend of yours around lately, Glory.” Charlie Gimble wiped away proof of the day’s warmth with a soiled handkerchief before droplets ruined freshly printed copies of the latest edition. “Why is that, you reckon?”
“Friend is a loose term for McClain, if that’s who you mean.”
She’d rather not discuss that sore subject, not with Charlie. Not with anyone. In fact, she could scarcely bring herself to think about him. When she did, her stomach did funny things.
“None other, and you don’t have to get out of sorts about it. Merely making conversation.”
“I’m not in the habit of recording each stranger’s arrivals and departures. How would I know?” She fiddled with the edges of the newspaper, keeping her gaze lowered.
It had been a week since Luke rode off on his mysterious errand. Since then, she’d found food on their doorstep three mornings. She tired of waiting to tell him where else he could put that charitable offering.
Plus, she couldn’t get a blasted thing done for watching the road for a man on a paint horse.
“Folks whisper he’s staying at your place.”
“They’d be lying.” Nerves skittered beneath her skin’s surface. “He left. Said he had to take a trip.”
“You know what I think?” He jabbed at the front-page article. “These stage robberies, three in six days, that’s what. Looks mighty convenient the way he suddenly appears and disappears. My smeller isn’t wrong. The man’s hiding something.”
“Forevermore, Charlie. First you have him in my bed and now branded as a criminal. McClain is not an outlaw, a murderer, or a thief.”
That he was a heartbreaker she quietly omitted. She only acknowledged that admission in the dead of night. When she couldn’t sleep. When the night’s heat rumpled the sheets. And when the sudden taste, smell, or sound of him reminded her that dying would be simpler than forgetting.
“You mark my words, a fellow harboring a secret is a terrible danger to us all.”
Hell’s bells! The only peril McClain presented was his knack for turning her knees watery. And although she didn’t need his kisses to carry her into spinsterhood, they had been pretty memorable. For a fact. And, God help her, she thanked him for the marriage offer. Her one and only. At least she could savor the proposal even if he hadn’t meant it. Nothing erased the fact that he didn’t want her. He simply thought it was his duty to help her.
Charlie pushed back the green visor. “Something you need to get off your chest?”
“Nope.”
Too many bothersome questions. She turned to the window in time to see the new doctor bound up the stairs to his office over Farland and Whitney Telegraph Service. No time like the present.
“I’ll talk to you later, Charlie.”
“But we didn’t—”
Glory never
heard the rest. She hurried before she could talk herself out of it.
The door squeaked, announcing her entrance. Ted Dalton glanced up from his desk.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all.” He stood and came forward. “Forgive me, I’m the world’s most forgetful at names. No excuse for so lovely a lady.”
“Glory Day.” Did the man have an eye impairment too? she wondered, glancing down at her customary britches. Or did he simply have a gift for flowery language and needed a willing ear to practice on?
“Ah! How could I have forgotten? I am at your service, Miss Glory Day. How may I help you?”
She suddenly lost her nerve. Now that she faced him, she realized the impulse had been a mistake. Besides, she’d not had a spell with her eyes in a couple of days—only once since the night McClain challenged her. Most likely it had cleared up by itself.
“My goodness, look how late it’s gotten. Don’t want Mama to worry. You know how mothers are.”
Dalton laughed. “Indeed I do, happen to have one myself. Are you sure you have to leave so soon? It’s not every day I get so pretty a visitor.” He grabbed his bowler from the hook at the door.
She abruptly turned, seeking escape. The floor, the walls, the doctor’s image blurred before dropping into blackness. She stumbled over a chair and fell into the open doorway. Dalton’s strong grip steadied her.
Slowly, she got her bearings. She had to leave. “Quite certain. No need to walk me out. A man like you is far too busy.” A keen sense of touch helped her onto the landing. She found the rail and inched forward.
He tucked her arm through his. “Why, Miss Glory, you mustn’t deprive me. All work makes Jack a dull boy.”
“Not necessary.” First with dirt on her face and now she couldn’t stand on her own two feet. Coming from the newspaper, she wouldn’t doubt an ink stain somewhere. He must think her a senseless twit.
“I would be extremely remiss in my gentlemanly duties. Besides, I was on my way over to Harvey’s Emporium.” He bent to whisper, “I ordered a shocking pair of red galluses, kid leather gloves, and a silk ascot.”
Those sounded like courting clothes to her, not that she would know. She briefly wondered to whom he’d taken a shine. Assuredly not her.
They neared the bottom before the murky veil lifted, allowing her to discern outlines. Peculiar though that the cloudy blur persisted. The returning clarity she’d had each time previously did not come. She let Dalton support her, praying he wouldn’t think the tremble of her hand out of the ordinary.
“Yoo-hoo!” Patience yelled from across the street.
Oh, great. Now Squirt would think she had gone sweet on the new doctor. She should remove her grip and step away. Heaven only knows why she didn’t. Perhaps she was tired of trying to be the strong one. It felt nice to lean for a change.
“Isn’t that your sister?”
“What gave it away?”
“She’s cute. You should meet mine sometime. Now, there’s a corker. Maggie Mae can talk a gopher into climbing a tree.”
Laughing melted her tension. “Thank goodness I’m not the only one whose life suffers from such an affliction.”
They turned the corner and ran headlong into a gentleman emerging from the bank. The smile died on her lips.
“Luke?”
“Miss Day.” The prodigal stranger tipped the brim of his hat, narrowing his eyes. “I see you missed me. In a general sort of way.”
No mistaking the chill in the summer air or the rigid tone. She jerked free. “We were… I mean, Dr. Dalton and I had business to discuss.”
“Funny name for it.”
The man at her side appeared oblivious of the hostility. “McClain, isn’t it? We met briefly at the church social.”
Luke openly refused the doctor’s outstretched hand. Glory must have turned three shades of purple. Just because McClain asked to marry her didn’t mean he owned her or anything. She had a perfect right to step out with whomever she chose.
Giving Luke an eyeful, Glory slid her palm into Dalton’s waiting grip. “Thank you for being such a gentleman and brightening my day.”
“My delight. I regret to have to cut our visit short. As I mentioned earlier, I have business at the emporium before it closes. McClain, next time you take a load of buckshot, come see me.” He patted her hand and murmured low, “Remember, I’m always here. Perhaps on a return visit you won’t be afraid to trust me.”
She lowered her eyes lest he glimpse her poor vision that would eventually render her useless. “You’ve been most kind.”
Luke fell in beside her, fuming. He had a lot of gall. Her irritation outmeasured his by far. She restrained an outburst until Dalton moved from hearing range. “Your rudeness shamed and embarrassed me. There’s no excuse for it. Generally speaking, of course.”
And no accounting for her racing pulse either. The devil could take the man for all she cared. Dear Mother Mary, she’d not been the same from the moment he barged into her life.
“Hey, where are you going? Don’t you want to know where I’ve been?”
“Not particularly.” She set a fast pace. Then, she recalled the meat left on their doorstep. She whirled and jabbed his chest with a forefinger. “I’ll have you know, the Day family may be poor as paupers, but we still have our pride.”
“What are you babbling about?”
He had become an expert faker. The puzzled expression almost looked genuine. That wouldn’t trick her, however.
“You can take your handout and drop it on someone else’s porch. Stay away from ours.”
Luke stood dumbfounded. The day had started out with such promise, only to have her toss vinegar over his news.
“Hey, wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute!”
The thought had crossed Luke’s mind she might be a tad upset, but she couldn’t know about paying the banknote when the ink hadn’t even dried yet. He jumped in front, forcing her to either stop or dust off the soles of her boots on his hide.
“I deserve to know what you’re talking about. You can’t throw rocks and think it’s over and done with.”
“I can and I will.” She attempted to maneuver past him.
“I’m the one with a reason to get out of sorts.” How was it the doctor, a brand-spanking-new member of the community, knew about his wound along with half the town? He didn’t enjoy being made a laughingstock.
Her mouth formed a perfect O. Her eyes widened. “You disappear for days, leave food on our doorstep, insult an esteemed gentleman of the highest profession, and you have the right to get perturbed.” She released an unladylike snort. “Figures you’d try to play dumb.”
“Esteemed? Food? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you tore a page from your uncle’s book. I just rode into town!”
“Or so you claim.”
She had to be the most maddening woman. The money might change her tune. Although he was still a nobody. Nothing he could do about that. At least not for a while.
“What was that crack Dalton made about hoping you wouldn’t be afraid next time? Of what, pray tell?”
“Nothing you’d understand.” She stomped on his toe.
“Ow!” He hopped on one leg after her, feeling like an idiot.
He finally threw up his hands in defeat. “I should’ve known this is the thanks I’d get for my trouble.”
“Mr. Luke!” Patience waved her arms.
Horror kept him momentarily transfixed when the girl darted directly into the path of a freight wagon and a team of six. The hesitation lasted barely seconds. He sprang forward. Wooden spokes of the wheels brushed his leg a split second after he pushed the girl from danger.
Glory raced to her sister’s side, kneeling beside her. “Are you all right?” The tremble in her voice, the ashen face revealed the depth of her scare. For all Glory’s
fussing and fuming at Patience, she couldn’t conceal her love.
Stunned for the moment, Punkin sniffled and wiped her nose on the handkerchief he handed her. Luke sat on the ground, his breath ragged and thanking his lucky stars.
Glory scolded her sister. “Are you crazy? They could’ve trampled you to death.”
“She’s all right.” He stood, gave Patience a hand up, and dusted his clothes off before glancing toward Glory.
“And you? I can get Dr. Dalton.” Glory hastily examined him for damage.
“No.” That was the last person he’d want summoned. He wouldn’t soon forget the way Dalton had held her arm. She’d not use him as an excuse for more carrying on.
“Patience Ann, don’t scare me like that again.” Glory kissed the top of her sister’s head and hugged her close.
“I won’t.”
Dorothy Harvey arrived out of breath. “Is she hurt? I watched the whole thing from the window. I just knew they’d squish her. I swear. That freighter don’t own this street.”
Amidst Mrs. Harvey’s tongue clucking, Charlie Gimble hurried from the newspaper office. The green visor had slipped down to his bushy eyebrows, giving him a comical appearance. Luke suspected the man paid no heed to things of that nature.
“What’s all the racket?”
“A wild man almost ran down little Patience here,” the emporium owner huffed indignantly, her hands on her hips.
“Anyone hurt?”
“It shook Squirt up but she’s fine otherwise,” Glory said.
“We need traffic laws. They have them in places like New York City, you know. If you break one, they levy a fine against you. Sure cuts down on riffraff.”
“Oh, Charlie. Such things are for big cities. Santa Anna is a long way from that kind of progress. We’ve barely moved beyond open prairie and renegade Indians.” Glory shook her head and aimed Patience toward Old Caesar. “Let’s go home. We’ve had enough excitement.”
“I left customers waiting.” Mrs. Harvey bustled back to her store.
