“Deputy Davies, you said you had news?” Lenora turned to him, wondering. She could tell that something weighed heavily on his mind. Had they found James’ body?
Luke finally lifted his head and faced Lenora. At once she saw the distress in eyes.
“I’m being taken off the investigation, Mrs. Rose. I’ve been ordered to Fort Laramie. Immediately. I leave tomorrow morning.”
Lenora’s mouth fell slightly open and her breath caught in her throat. “Why? You’ve been assisting Sheriff Morris only a few months. I thought you were needed here.”
“I am needed here. But for a season I’m needed more at Fort Laramie. The Army has ordered the soldiers garrisoned there to press up the Trail. They’re still having problems with the Indians. A few settlers have been killed.”
“But what does that have to do with you?”
“Sheriff Clarke needs someone to help him organize volunteers. The civilian settlement outside Laramie has been protected by the Army since it was established in ‘49. They don’t have a militia or any type of volunteer organization to look after them. Until now they never needed one.”
“But why you?” Somewhere in the deep recesses of her brain, Lenora was vaguely aware that she was allowing her dismay at his leaving to show. Instead of modulating her tone as she had been taught at Mrs. Bindleton’s, she was allowing herself to be led by her emotions. But after all she’d been through since her days at Bindleton’s, acting demure didn’t seem to matter much anymore.
“Sheriff Clarke asked the Territory for a deputy to be attached to his office to help him, train volunteers and the like. The Territory granted him one but the man never showed up. He left Fort Collins a few weeks ago and no one’s heard from him. Until we find out what happened to him or until Clarke gets a replacement, I’m their man. Clarke sent word to Cyrus asking to use me for a while.”
“I see,” said Lenora.
“Cyrus didn’t hesitate to volunteer my services,” said Luke. He gave Lenora a knowing look. “Frankly, I think he wants to be rid of me.”
Lenora smiled half-heartedly. “No, I suppose Sheriff Morris thinks you have nothing of importance to do here in quiet Buffalo.”
“Mrs. Rose, I told you I’d speak to Judge Stillman about a death certificate when he arrives at Fort McKinney in September. I still mean to do that.”
“I am obliged for your assistance.”
Luke nodded in acknowledgment. “But I don’t know where the judge is right now. If he’s not at Laramie when I arrive, I’ll have to track his circuit schedule from there.”
“I understand.” Lenora sounded somber. She clasped both hands on her lap in an unconscious effort to calm herself.
“There’s worse, Mrs. Rose.”
Lenora blinked. “Worse?”
“I may still be in Laramie when the judge arrives here. I suspect that may be the case.”
“Why is that?”
“They’re having more troubles south of here with the Indians than we are. If Clarke’s new deputy doesn’t find his way to Laramie, the Territory can’t justify sending me back to Buffalo when settlers are losing their lives down South. Not only that, Buffalo has a full contingent of soldiers for protection.”
Lenora’s heart sunk down to her toes. In a flash of self-awareness, she realized she didn’t know, truly, which caused her more grief: another frustrating detour on the road to discovering the disposition of her husband’s remains, or the knowledge that Deputy Davies was going away, possibly for a very long time, maybe even forever. Deputy Davies had told her that his pa and brothers had a ranch at the settlement at Fort Laramie. Once he was surrounded by family and all the comforts of home, he might decide that ranching was more desirable than working with nasty Sheriff Morris. It struck her then quite clearly that she had begun to look forward to her visits with the deputy. After he left she wouldn’t have any more conversations with him in town or here on her porch. Her long silent days on the ranch would be longer and more silent. The thought pained her.
“Deputy Davies, you have been very attentive throughout this ordeal, and very kind. I appreciate everything you’ve done to find my husband. You’ve left no stone unturned. You are a true professional. Your family will be happy to have you nearby again, but Buffalo will be the less without your presence.”
“Thank you for the sentiment, Mrs. Rose. But I wish you would seriously consider taking Reverend and Mrs. Thomas’ advice. You should move to town.”
Lenora sighed and leaned back against the house. “I might have entertained the notion at one time, Deputy Davies. But I think it’s too late to redeem myself. I’m shunned in town. At least out here I know a measure of peace.”
Luke shook his head dejectedly. “I’m partly to blame. I didn’t always use wisdom when I was investigating you.”
“Hogwash. What could you have done differently?” She didn’t wait for a response. “You’re not to blame. I brought this upon myself.”
“I don’t know how you see it that way, ma’am.”
“Out here on this ranch all day, alone, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my ways.”
Luke cocked his head and looked at Lenora, waiting.
“People resent my fancy eastern clothes and our nice spread out here. I should have used more discretion. This trial has taught me a few things about how to get along in western society, or in any society for that matter.”
With no effort at concealment, Luke gazed up and down at Lenora’s modest cotton striped work dress, white and pink with dainty pink flowers printed on the white striping, complemented by long, full sleeves and a demure, plain white collar. “It’s no sin to own a nice piece of land,” he said, “and I like the way you dress.” He sounded entirely sincere. “You always look like a lady. I wouldn’t want you to dress any other way.”
Lenora was taken aback at the familiar course their conversation had taken. Was it acceptable to discuss her attire with a gentleman? She decided to change the subject.
“I’m taken care of anyway, Deputy Davies. Ben Slocomb comes twice a day now. He does all the heavy chores. I confine myself to the business of the house for the most part.”
Luke looked thoughtfully toward the barn. “You pay him to come twice a day?”
“No. I pay him only for the morning chores. He still insists on doing the evening chores as a favor. Such kindheartedness. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay him or his parents.”
Luke nodded. “Ben’s a good kid. I’m glad he’s here to help you every day. But I’d feel better leaving you behind if I thought you were in town, among grown folk. You should move in with Marietta Nolan. She’d be happy to have you.”
Lenora stiffened. “I will not leave my ranch.”
Luke blew out a noisy breath. “What if something happens to you, or your baby, and there’s no one around to help?”
How does he know about my condition? Lenora blanched. “I am never more than one milking session away from a visit by Ben. He comes twice a day, seven days a week. If I slip and fall and can’t get up, I’ll just wait for the cows to moo and know that in short order Ben will be here.”
Luke grimaced and shook his head in disgust. “You make light.”
“And why not? I’ve lost everything but my property, Deputy Davies.” Lenora threw up her hands. “How can I not feel lighthearted? What worry is left to weigh me down? I have nothing more to lose. I’ve lost my husband. My reputation has been dragged through the mud—could I be scorned more by the people of Buffalo than I am now? The bank has weighed me in its balance and found me wanting. It won’t lend me the money I need to hang onto this ranch. Even if I somehow, by God’s grace, manage to keep it, I’ll spend the rest of my life under suspicion of adultery until my child is grown. Hopefully by that time every finger-pointer in town will be muted by the fact that the offspring of James and Lenora Rose resembles the father. My only worry now is that their doubts won’t be dispelled.” Lenora leaned back against the house again, clasped her hands to
gether on her lap, and sighed deeply.
“What do you mean?”
“What will happen if the child resembles me more than James, leaving paternity in question?”
“That is not the worst thing a child can suffer.” Luke absent-mindedly ran his hand through his hair and stared into the yard at nothing in particular.
“No? What more?” Lenora sat up straight again, her interest genuinely piqued.
Luke turned back to Lenora. His eyes were dark and sober. “Your child could grow up without a pa, wondering all his days what it’s like to live in a house with two parents, what it’s like to have both a pa and ma to guide him in the different ways of a man and a woman. That’s worse, Mrs. Rose.”
Then, wordlessly, Luke moved his large, tanned hand toward hers, gently closing it over her small one. Lenora looked down at his hand covering hers and was stunned. With her eyes fixed on his hand, she didn’t see the tremulous cast that came over his face nor discern what it cost him when he said,
“Any man would be honored to be a father to your child.”
Lenora looked up then into Luke’s eyes and saw intense desire. Every nerve ending in her body flared with awareness of his touch and his nearness. And when she looked into those loving eyes, something in her heart broke loose. He cared for her. She had always known it.
Her heart began to beat rapidly to match the wild herd of thoughts that stampeded across her mind. Was this a proposal? Was Deputy Davies actually offering to shoulder the responsibility of being a father to her unborn child? Why would he take a step that could only fan the flames of scandal that had scorched them both thus far?
But what surprised Lenora most of all was not the questions about Deputy Davies’ intention that his tender act evoked. It was her memories of James. Heretofore she had thought she had done a good job of resisting the pull of sadness and self-pity that threatened to undo her during her long hours alone on the ranch. Over time she had learned to set her grief on a shelf— extant, but locked away like a treasured memento that she could take down at will when she was feeling nostalgic and then put away again to fondle another day.
But the tender affection expressed by the unexpectedly gentle touch of this man had unlocked her storehouse of memories of another. With a stab of grief so exquisite it shocked her, Lenora realized that the deputy’s fingers embraced not only her hand but the wedding band she had worn in faithfulness nearly four and one-half years. Tears sprung to her eyes at the memory of how James had courted her so long ago, how they had loved each other so feverishly, how hopeful and naive they had been when they had set out for Wyoming Territory. How young they had been! They thought life in the West would be as soft as spring rain and as warm as Indian summer. When the icy winds of suffering had blown in, Lenora had not been prepared.
If this wasn’t a proposal, reasoned Lenora, then Deputy Davies was proffering friendship, brotherly affection born of shared experience. His life had been shaped by pain too. But in this moment his kinship and empathy failed to comfort. Luke’s efforts at companionship only reminded Lenora of the companion she had lost.
Embarrassed at her unexpected display of emotion, Lenora dabbed the corners of her eyes with the fingers of her free hand to keep the tears from running down her face. So many thoughts jostled at once they choked her words, and in her hesitation to respond, she realized that Luke was leaning into her, closing his eyes. Lenora felt a sudden flush of heat on her torso and neck. He was going to kiss her!
“Ah!” she exclaimed, drawing back.
“What?” Luke drew back as well.
“I felt the baby kick!”
Lenora pulled her hand away from Luke’s and placed both her hands on her abdomen. Her eyes were wide with surprise and delight.
“You’ve never felt the baby before this?”
“No, never. Well, questionable little flutterings, but I was never sure. This was truly the baby! I’ve been waiting for this moment so long!”
#
I’ve been waiting for this moment so long. Leave it to James Rose to claim what’s his. Cyrus said Rose was at his worst when he felt his stuff was threatened. This is what you get for dallying with a married woman, Luke. Cyrus is right. You’re an idiot.
“It must comfort you,” was the only complimentary thing Luke could think to say, and even that tiny concession exhausted his supply of grace when it came to James Rose. Bested by unwelcome competition from the most infuriating interloper he’d ever known, an invisible one yet, Luke leaned back on the bench and rested his head against the wall. Feeling chastened, he closed his eyes to set his thoughts aright. Professional indeed. Mrs. Rose actually thought of him as a professional. He remembered the watch and chain in his pant pocket and burned inwardly with shame. Here was his golden opportunity, probably the last in a good while to return the final, tangible connection the grieving widow had to her dead husband. Luke ought to pull that damned watch from his pocket this minute and hand it to her. It was hers now. But she would be in shock. She would cry. If he pulled it out of his pocket now, instead of fading into the safe, oblivious haze of eternity where he belonged, the nettlesome James Rose would park his ugly spectral backside right between them, every bit the chaperone from Hell. Why wouldn't the infernal spook just die already?
Luke wrestled mightily within. He should give her the watch. Now. Holding onto it a second longer was selfish. It was evil. The burden of his guilt squeezed his chest like a vise. He took a deep breath and—
“Before I leave in the morning I’m going to ask Mrs. Nolan to move out here from town and stay with you until I return.”
“Etta has a son to cook and clean for.”
“That son has more than a few gray hairs in his whiskers,” said Luke with a tinge of disgust. He stood to his feet. “Malcolm Nolan is a grown man. He should be concerned about his widowed mother’s welfare, not the other way around.”
Lenora stood as well. “Deputy Davies, you said earlier that you had not used wisdom when you were investigating me. Is it wisdom to take an interest in my welfare in so public a manner as to solicit the Nolans? We still don’t have his body.”
“Mrs. Nolan would never volunteer to anyone that I asked for her help,” said Luke, starting for his horse. “And even if she did, it wouldn’t change my plans. While I’m gone I intend to see that someone looks out for you.”
Lenora nodded meekly. “I must admit, your offer is not entirely unwelcome. I enjoyed Etta’s company when I was confined, though I hate the thought of putting her out again.” Lenora used the back of her hand to wipe away a silent tear.
“I’m going to water my horse before I leave,” said Luke, donning coat and hat. “I will write you from Fort Laramie after I see the situation there. Good day, Mrs. Rose.” And with that, he tipped his hat and goaded his horse to walk to the far side of the barn to the pump.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fort Laramie, Wyoming Territory, August 18, 1880
Dear Mrs. Rose,
By the good graces of Providence Mr. Hughes and I arrived at Fort Laramie August 16 in good health, though not as early as we had hoped. We had no trouble with renegade Lakota, which we had feared, but we were delayed when we reached the swollen North Platte, and we lost two days of travel time owing to a damaged ferry. I called upon my family soon after I arrived and found them also in good health and the family ranch as I left it in early March.
Regarding your petition to Judge Stillman for a death certificate for your husband, I am sorry to tell you that I missed an audience with the judge by only 48 hours. Sheriff Clarke tells me that the judge left for Douglas Settlement August 14. Sheriff Clarke has kindly offered to assist me by telegraphing the Settlement ahead of the judge’s arrival. To this end I have begun a letter to Judge Stillman in which I shall outline persuasive reasons why he should rule in your favor, lacking the body. I shall keep you informed of any developments in this regard.
I understand from Sheriff Clarke that Sam Wright will be brought b
efore Judge Stillman at the end of September when he arrives in Buffalo.
Sheriff Clarke lost no time in pressing me into service. My days are long, filled with organizing men into teams and planning strategies based on each rancher’s location, the fort being the center of everything that matters. My desire is to finish here what I was drafted to accomplish and be relieved of my duties within a month, time enough to return to Buffalo to speak to Judge Stillman on your behalf face to face.
Before I left town I secured from Mrs. Marietta Nolan her promise that she would keep company with you until my return. I trust that in her presence you are comforted in your loss and enjoying the benefit of help with your burden of ranch chores.
You are in my thoughts and frequent prayers. I assure you that, as God grants me strength, I will do all within my power to secure the document you need to preserve a legacy for you and your child.
In your service,
Deputy Luke Davies
“Well,” said Etta Nolan as she sat beside Lenora on the Rose Ranch front porch bench on a warm August afternoon, embroidering in a small hoop frame, “for a man who doesn’t talk much he writes well enough.”
“Hmm,” murmured Lenora, her mind elsewhere. She sat motionless, the letter in her hands on her lap.
“Despite everything, you have much to be thankful for in the way of the deputy’s help.”
Lenora nodded.
“Thank you for reading his letter aloud to me.”
“You’re welcome,” said Lenora, breaking her reverie. She folded Luke’s letter and returned it to its envelope, set it on her lap, and rested her hands on it as she gazed outward, beyond her barn and property to the dry, sun parched prairie that stretched to the Big Horn Mountains under an unbroken blue sky. In the distance shimmering waves of heat rose from the ground. Only a rare bird dotted the heavenly canopy, and most of the ranch animals lay out of sight, resting quietly in the shade of the barn. The low buzz of crickets and an occasional dance of grasses excited by a hot breeze provided a lullaby to the sleepy afternoon stillness. The two women sat in silence a long while, listening to their private thoughts. Finally Etta Nolan spoke.
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