Calico Bride
Page 14
"Hardly." Disdain soured Mr. Winters's face. "Arthur doesn't lie and he didn't beat himself in the head. You know that as well as I do."
"I was merely making on observation is all." The back of his neck tingled. That always happened when Lila was near. Her presence tugged at his soul in a way he could not deny. He swallowed hard and faced the shopkeeper. "Have you had any problems lately? Anything stolen? Is there something I can help you with?"
"Nothing I would want to talk to you about. If my wagon needs a repaired spoke or my horse throws a shoe, I'll give a holler." Scorn laced his words as he turned and went back into his shop.
Burke hardly noticed. Horses and their drivers, teamsters and their wagons and pedestrians on the boardwalks hurried by, yet he saw nothing but Lila. Her skirt snapped with her gait. The low melody of her voice rose and fell as she talked quietly with her friend. Above all the noises on the street, hers was the only thing he could hear, the only sound that kept him riveted. Air stalled in his chest as he watched her tap along the opposite boardwalk, growing smaller with distance.
Utter sweetness. Her kiss had been just as pure as she was. The memory of being with her and splashing together in the cool river refreshed his dusty soul. He wished he could call out her name, cross the street and have the pleasure of talking with her, the way a courting man would. But he could never court her. Love whispered through him and he kept his boots rooted to the planks of the boardwalk. He did not call out her name. He did not rush across the street.
Who knew a man like him could love anyone?
As though hearing his silent question, she chose that moment to glance over her shoulder. Time stood still. Nothing moved and no one else existed but the two of them. Their gazes caught and held. Wholesome longing filled him up. Was she feeling this, too?
She broke away before he could tell. She swirled down the street, swinging her basket and talking with her friend. Had nothing passed between them? He hung his head. The pain burrowing into his chest was no longer a physical one.
"
"Those strawberries look too good to pass up." Cora Sims, the good customer that she was, set her full basket on the counter. "I must have at least a half quart."
"I'll let you pick your own." Lila gestured toward the counter. "Go on back and take which container you would like."
"Thank you kindly." Cora efficiently circled around the counter, probably used to doing so a dozen or more times a day in her dress shop. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone looking for a job, would you?"
"Not outright." Lila opened the sales book, inked her pen and lifted the first item out of the top of Cora's basket. "I could ask my friends just to be sure. Why, do you know of an opening?"
"I plan on hiring a store manager to assist me when I get married next month." Cora chose one of the little buckets of strawberries and wove around to the front of the counter. In the back of the store, Eunice cleared her throat in protest and a bolt of fabric hit the cutting counter exceptionally hard. Cora gracefully pretended not to notice. "I want to start someone now to train them. Ideally, I would like to hire you, but I know that's impossible."
Across the store, the bolt of fabric hit the counter with another hard thump, thump.
"Can you imagine? My parents would forbid it." She tallied another purchase with a fast scratch of her pen. "I'm afraid I am in this store for life."
"As you ought to be," Cora agreed warmly. "But if you have a friend just like you, I would hire her in an instant. It comes with generous pay and a room, as the renter in the upstairs apartment above my store just moved out. I still plan to work at the shop, just not long hours. I would give whoever I hired a lot of say in how she did her job."
"Sounds wonderful to me." Realizing she had spoken without thinking, Lila blushed. She wondered what Eunice would thump around on the counter next. "Will this be on your account?"
"Please." Cora waited politely while Lila wrapped up her purchases and handed over the pail of strawberries.
"Have a nice evening," she wished and followed Cora to the door. She opened it for her. Hot humid dusty air breezed in as Cora stepped out. Since it was the end of the business day, Lila cheerfully turned the lock and flipped the sign in the window around to Closed.
"What do you think you are up to, young lady?" Eunice's terse tone reverberated against the walls of the empty store. Her heels tapped a staccato rhythm, drawing closer. "You are not in charge of this store, Lila. You are given rules to follow for a reason."
"I know." She added Cora's total in her head, double-checked it and scribbled it down in the ledger.
"Then explain this," Eunice demanded.
A thick fold of fawn-colored fabric landed on the counter in front of her. The material she'd saved for Mrs. Olaff.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Every yard-age of material that is cut has to be paid for immediately." Eunice held her hands out helplessly. "This is not your store, Lila, as much as you would like it to be. Which customer do we bill?"
"I will take care of it." She tore off a length of wrapping paper. "I will take it over to Mrs. Olaff this evening."
"And you will explain to her the policy again. That woman thinks she can have her way just because her husband is the superintendent of the county schools. She is not above having to pay for her purchases."
"I was trying to do her a favor." She carefully wrapped the beautiful fabric and tied it with white string. Immediately, she regretted her words.
"Your allegiance must be to this business, Lila."
Help me to show compassion, Lord. She thought of all the kind things her stepmother did for Pa. She thought of how Eunice had taken charge of the household when she and Lark had struggled with it after Ma's passing. Eunice had straightened out the chaos the store had been in, for Pa had gone through a hard grieving period. No one was perfect, and Eunice gave the family her best.
The back door opened and boots strode in the hallway. Pa strode in, sweeping off his hat to fan himself, a little dusty from his afternoon on the country roads. "It was a relief to have the Pawal boy ride with me. He's a strapping kid. The two of us didn't have a lick of trouble."
Time had passed so quickly. She was no longer the little girl helping her mother in the store, just as she was no longer the schoolgirl helping out after school.
Pa stopped in his tracks. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I was just apologizing for making a mistake." Lila plucked the package from the counter. "Eunice, I won't go against your rules again."
"Thank you." Eunice lifted her chin with great dignity. "Supper will be on the table in one hour. Don't be late."
"I won't." Lila unlocked the door and bolted outside. Pa didn't look upset as he scratched his head, bumped into his stitches and winced. She watched him for a moment through the glass. His swollen lip had gone down, but his black eye had become a sickly swirl of yellow and green. He had asked her to get along with Eunice long ago and it was a promise she must keep somehow. Lost in thought, she turned around and nearly crashed into someone walking by.
"Lila?" A familiar deep-noted voice rose with surprise. "Are you all right?"
"Sure, but I would be better off looking where I was going." She took a step and watched Burke hesitate before his confident stride slowed to match hers. She thought of how he had treated her father. It hurt that he hadn't made things right.
"I see you have a last-minute delivery." He gestured toward the thick fold of material clutched in the crook of her arm.
"Oh, the package." She had forgotten about it. Seeing him again jarred her. The kiss, the clo
seness and how he'd treated Pa. She felt awkward. "My work is never done. What about yours?"
"It's ongoing and never-ending, although my deputy shift is over and I'm headed home." He stood straight and strong, his wounds all but forgotten.
Pure stubborn male will, she suspected. "Home? Isn't the boardinghouse temporary?"
"My room, then." He shrugged. "I haven't had a permanent home for a long time."
She shouldn't be talking with Burke. Too late she remembered her father's ultimatum. How did she tell Burke about it? They reached the end of the block and stepped onto the cross street together. Plumes of dust kicked up beneath their shoes. "What about Miota Hollow? The newspaper said you were from there."
"Part of my cover story. I'm from a little town east of the Montana and Dakota border." He walked along like a perfect gentleman in a leather vest, crisp white shirt and black trousers. He appeared nothing like the renegade who had guarded her on her delivery route. Nothing like the man who had kissed her with infinite tenderness. This Burke could have been a polite stranger. His tone dropped, so that only she could hear his admission. "I call Helena home, for the little time I spend there. I keep a room in a boardinghouse to come back to."
"Another rented room?"
"I told you. I don't let anything tie me down. Even a rented room is a little too permanent for me." A note of sadness rang in his tone. For a moment, his casual manner slid away, revealing the man beneath.
She wondered about the sadness. What would it be like to always roam from town to town and assignment to assignment? He formed friendships only to leave them. It had to be lonely.
Remembering her promise to her father, she put her sympathy for him aside and her caring. She could be casual, too. She could pretend there had been no kiss with this man who wanted no ties, this man who hadn't helped her father. She cleared her throat, hoping to sound breezy. "Today I'm a little envious of your no-ties philosophy."
"Why's that?" He sounded distant again, remote. Back to business.
They stepped onto the boardwalk together. She flicked a braid over her shoulder. "Eunice."
"Ah, the stepmother." Understanding softened the harsh edge of his voice. "That isn't a surprise."
"No. I'm sorry, but you will be receiving a bill in the mail."
"For the supplies I used over my stay at the store. I expected as much." He nodded in grim acceptance. "I guess I didn't need a letter of credit from another store and a job reference after all."
"You made such an impression, more than any letter could." Humor deepened the green and blue swirl of her eyes.
"I wonder if your stepmother would consider a new career," he quipped. "I could hire her to deal with the really scary outlaws."
"No banks in the territory would ever be robbed again." Her gentle retort made them laugh together, the merriment rising above the quieter sounds of the street. It was after five, most of the shops had closed up. The streets were nearly quiet. The boardwalk stretched two more blocks, empty except for a merchant far down at the end sweeping his part of the walk.
"I'm sorry for what I did to your father." He blurted out the apology on the dying wisps of her laughter. He fisted his hands in frustration and remorse. "I wanted to back up Dobbs. Make him see I had a dark side."
"Oh, that makes sense." The unhappiness returned. She sighed, clutching her package more tightly. "You really hurt Pa. He felt betrayed and humiliated."
"I know how that feels, and I hated doing it to Arthur." He refused to hang his head, but the past whispered reminders of the man he used to be. The man he would always be. Burke began to believe he could never escape it. That no amount of sacrifice and service would ever free him from his guilt or his penance.
"When this is all over and before I leave town, I'll explain everything to him. I'll apologize." He wanted her to know that he intended to do the right thing. "Arthur doesn't need to go through life thinking he deserved to be treated badly, after your family took me in."
"That would mean a lot." They had reached the block's end and she drew to a stop. "He thought well of you before. He talked highly of your wagon repairing skills."
"I've had a lot of practice. This isn't the first time I've come to town posing as a new deputy." He brushed an errant curl from her cheek. The warmth of the afternoon they'd spent together crept into his cold soul. He'd never known sweetness like her. "I need my badge back. I should have gotten it before now, but Dobbs has searched my room twice by my guess. I think it's safe to take it back."
"What if he searches you next?"
"Is that a bit of worry I hear?" His hand lingered against the satin of her ivory cheek and the silk of her hair. Soft feelings weakened him. He didn't want to love her, but he did. Lord, help me.
"Worry, oh, no. Curiosity, yes," she quipped.
"I don't believe you for a second." He could read the truth in her eyes, the same truth he was trying to avoid. Feelings came into being, sometimes no matter how hard one tried to ward against them. His love for her wasn't something he could express or act on but it lived lasting and steadfast, the strongest emotion he had ever known. He swallowed hard, hoping his affection did not show. "I worry for you, which is why I need my badge back. It's why I can't see you anymore."
"And I can't see you." She laid her fingertips over his, gently increasing the contact of his hand against the gentle curve of her face. "Pa has forbidden it and I cannot go against it."
"I wish'¦" It was one sentence he could not complete. A roil of emotions too many to name twisted up inside him. He was not a free man or a redeemed man. If he was, then he would never leave her side. He could fight for her, provide for her, protect her in all ways. Commitment fired up in him all-consuming.
Help me to walk away from her. He did not have the strength on his own. He had to do what was right for her. He swallowed hard, taking a moment to cherish the soft fall of sunlight burnishing her hair and the brush of it against her cheek. Her green-blue gaze met his with the same tender feelings that rooted in his soul.
For one moment filled with longing, he saw the future he could not have with her. He envisioned their little house in town and coming home to her as his wife. Supper would be on the table and a cooing baby in a bassinet. He wanted it so sorely he could almost feel her arms wrapping around his neck tight to welcome him. His entire being yearned for the beautiful dream of a life spent with her.
A dream he could never have. The past choked him. It was time to part paths from her but he could not walk away. Not yet. Her soft rosebud lips softened slightly, as if she wished for another kiss. He wanted nothing more than the sweetness of brushing her lips with his, but he could not allow it. He could not stay on this perilous path. He had to get off it. He had to end it. He tilted her head gently and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.
Her disappointment rolled through him. He was disappointed, too. He hadn't meant to fall in love with her, but he was in control of his decisions. He would do the right thing.
"Leave the badge behind the stack of washtubs on your porch right before dark." He gave her flyaway tendrils on final nudge so he could admire the color of her eyes one last time. "It's been nice knowing you, Lila."
"The honor has been entirely mine." She blinked hard and in that moment love blazed brightly in her gaze. For one precious moment it shone unmistakable. He wanted to watch forever, to feel the connection of being cared for, but it could not last. She tucked her feelings away and left, tapping down the side street with her package to deliver and taking the last of the sunshine with her.
It was right before nightfall. Dusk was made darker by the black storm clouds blotting out the stars and stretching as far as Lila could see out her bedroom window. Humid, uncomfortable heaving wind gusts exploded through the screen, scattering Lark's drawings as she lay on her stomach on her bed and ruffled the pages of the open book on the nightstand.
"Whatcha doing?" Lark asked, her pencil rasping against parchment.
"I think a storm is on its way." Distant lightning crackled along twisting cloud bellies, illuminating them with a purplish glow. "I need to bring in the bench cushions."
Lark mumbled something, her pencil darkening a portion of the page as she worked. Lila left her sister to her sketching, listened in the hallway for her parents' voices rumbling softly from the parlor as Eunice read something aloud to Pa, probably from the church magazine she was so fond of. Seizing the opportunity, she quietly opened the door and tiptoed down the stairs. The weight in her pocket pulled on her conscience as she padded through the dark, echoing store.
She'd had to speak to Burke to tell him goodbye. She had to speak to him to tell him she couldn't speak to him. Technically, that wasn't breaking her promise to Pa, but it felt wrong. She unlocked the back door, careful to open it slowly enough so the hinges would not squeak.
The instant she stepped outside, the muggy air closed around her like a damp blanket. She eased across the dark porch, groping. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the inky darkness. Noises echoed eerily between buildings as she plucked the cushions from the bench and tossed them inside. She felt like a heroine in the new Range Rider novel she was reading, caught in the dark of night in an echoing alley with only shadows to guide her. She even felt watched, too, as if she weren't exactly alone.
Burke had dominated her thoughts all evening long. Having to end things with him distressed her. She missed him already. She missed knowing she could never laugh with him, walk down the street at his side or look forward to another wagon ride with him holding the reins.