Love Finds You in Last Chance, California

by Miralee Ferrell

  He brushed the back of his hand across his eyes and gave a small shake of his head. “Not my business what you do. Like I said, you’re the boss.” He started to rise.

  “Wait. I forgot to ask…did you find a copy of your marriage certificate?”

  His shoulders slumped. “No. The sheriff sent a wire saying the pastor died and the courthouse burned. I’ve no proof I married Molly.”

  “I see.” She didn’t, but the past few minutes had been painful enough without pressing the issue of his marriage or his right to Toby.

  He pushed to his feet and a hollow smile appeared. “I’ll go see Toby now, Miss Travers. Thanks for your time.” He jerked his head in the semblance of a bow and turned to the door.

  “Justin, if you don’t want me to ask Christy—I haven’t said anything yet.” She reached out and touched his arm, but he stepped closer to the door and her hand fell to her side.

  “Like I said, it’s your ranch.” He slipped out the door and closed it softly behind him, leaving Alex with numbness in the region where her heart had once resided.

  Justin stomped from the house not caring that the scowl on his face reflected the tumult inside his chest. His conversation with Alex left a taste like bitter ashes on his tongue. Her decision to invite that woman to the ranch when Alex knew what a threat she was to Toby ignited fierce anger and protectiveness. Maybe he’d best leave this place, and the sooner the better.

  His hand drifted to the spot on his opposite wrist where Alex’s soft touch had sent a stab of longing through him. He’d almost turned and implored her to change her mind—almost, but not quite. He’d not beg favors of anyone—and especially not of Alex Travers.

  How could the woman have gotten under his skin so thoroughly in such a short amount of time? He’d been married to Molly for nearly three years and never once felt the desire and longing that smote him now. And not only because Alex was a beautiful woman. No. It was so much more than that. Her independent spirit, intelligence, kindness to his son, and yes, even her desire to help the very dance hall girl who threatened his future—all these things made her more attractive in his eyes.

  She was a wonderful woman—and he’d hurt her. By keeping Ben’s secret for so long, Justin knew he’d been an unwitting participant in the pain she’d felt over the past weeks. He stood with his face toward a large oak tree, leaned his head against its rough bark, and groaned. Why did trouble seem to follow him wherever he landed? Why couldn’t God make a way for him, the way He seemed to do for others in need?

  He remembered Alex’s words just moments ago—she’d been trying to trust God, to rest in Him. Could he do that? Did his childhood faith still exist, or had he strangled the life out of it over the years?

  If he chose to hang onto his anger and bitterness, what effect would it have on Toby? More than anything, he wanted to be the example to his son that his father had been to him. Pa had lived his faith every day. Not in words so much as in actions. A harsh, judgmental word never passed the man’s lips toward another human being, no matter how deserving. His generosity and willingness to help others had earned him the respect and love of his family and the community around him.

  Justin closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped. “God, help me, please. I don’t know what else to ask, except that You help me. Have mercy on me. Help me out of the hole I’ve dug. I have no one to blame for my poor choices but myself. Forgive me for blaming You. Give me wisdom and strength to fight Alex’s battles, as well.”

  Justin straightened his shoulders and stepped away from the tree as a deep sense of peace swept over his spirit. For the first time in years he felt a connection to God and knew himself loved and forgiven. “Thank You, Lord—so very much,” he whispered. “Help me make good choices from now on.”

  Somehow he’d have to let Alex know he’d support her, whatever she decided about Christy Grey. He still didn’t like it, but he’d trust God with the outcome. Besides, if the woman had broken ribs, she wasn’t too apt to scoop Toby up and run off with him. His feeling of triumph at the thought quickly turned to shame. “Forgive me, Lord.” He raised his eyes to the heavens and shook his head. “Guess I’ve got a lot to learn.” It would probably be one of the toughest things he’d ever attempt, but he’d find the strength to pray for Christy and leave the rest in God’s hands.

  Alex sat at her desk, her head in her hands, fighting tears. She hated to cry—it seemed like such a sign of weakness. All her life she’d striven to maintain tight control over her emotions—to be strong and make Papa proud.

  Justin said her father saw her as a daughter to protect, not as a business partner. She could view that as something that stung—another slight from the man who’d raised her in his footsteps—or accept the freedom that came with the knowledge of his deep love for his daughter.

  “You don’t have to prove yourself to be accepted, Alex.” The sweet, quiet voice inside her heart spoke. It wasn’t her own voice, she knew. Genuine tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over, making their way unchecked to her chin and dripping onto the papers on the desk.

  “Trust Me—come just as you are—you are My beloved.” A deep well of love opened within, almost flooding her in its intensity. “Yes, Lord. Yes. I’ve missed You so much. Thank You for loving me, for accepting me.” She bowed her head and sobs tore from her throat.

  Her father had loved her, too. Her need to be perfect and make him proud had been her need alone—never his. He’d always demonstrated his love for her—in the multitude of times he took her with him when it must not have been convenient. His pride in her had been apparent, and she’d never suffered a harsh or unkind word. Why had she driven herself to please someone who didn’t demand it? Was she trying to take her mother’s place in his life? Give him back something he’d lost and be the son she imagined he’d wanted?

  She raised her head and reached for the Bible lying on the corner of the table. Reverently she opened the leather book and carefully withdrew the folded missive inside. Her eyes traveled down the page to his final words. Know that I love you, Alex, and I’m glad you’re my daughter. You’re better than any son the good Lord could’ve seen fit to give me.

  “Oh, Papa…forgive me. And heavenly Father, please forgive me as well.” She placed the letter back in the Bible and closed it, suddenly sure of what she needed to do.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  A subdued atmosphere blanketed the supper table, with Toby carrying most of the conversation. Although Alex had won a reluctant victory on the matter of Christy Grey, Martha still smarted from what she considered Alex’s ill-advised decision and remained terse throughout the meal. Poor Uncle Joe sat with bewilderment blazoned across his face and escaped from the table as soon as he could. He had been easier to sway; he might be crusty on the outside, but he was a lump of downy feathers inside.

  As Martha boiled water on the kitchen stove for the dishes, Alex stacked the plates in the dining room.

  Justin reached for a mug then turned his intense brown eyes her direction and smiled. “Reckon I’ll stay and help. Besides, I’ve got something to say and I won’t sleep until I say it.”

  Her hand stilled over the plate she’d started to place on its mate. “I’d hate to keep you from sleeping.” After the prayer she’d prayed, she knew she should’ve given a more gracious response, but her old stubborn streak was difficult to squelch.

  A slow grin started at his finely chiseled lips and made its way up to his dark eyes. “Uh-huh. Figured that much.”

  She stopped and planted her hands on her hips. “What are you so smug about? I thought we were mad at each other.”

  He tipped his head to the side and his eyes narrowed. “Ah, now the truth comes out. And here I thought it was just me.”

  A rush of blood swamped her cheeks and she ducked her head. “Yes, well…”

  A genuine chuckle erupted from his parted lips. “You know, you’re beautiful when you’re embarrassed. Or angry. Or happy.”

  Alex’s h
ands flew to her face. “Is that what you wanted to say before you could go to sleep?”

  It was Justin’s turn to redden. “Nope, I didn’t plan on that, but I’m glad I finally got it out.” His smiling face sobered. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. What you said about making your peace with God? It hit home. I’ve needed to do that for years. Whatever you decide about Miss Grey is fine with me. I’ll not stand in your way.”

  Her eyes widened and she sank down into the nearest chair. “You mean that? You won’t be angry and leave the ranch?”

  “Yes, I mean it, and no, I won’t quit or be angry. I’m sorry I made you think that. I’d like to be…friends…if you think we can manage?” He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his trousers and stood ramrod-straight.

  “Friends?” Her voice sounded odd even to herself. He wanted to be only a friend—after he’d said she was beautiful? Disappointment washed over her and she struggled to keep it out of her voice. “Friends would be nice. Thank you for taking the time to speak to me about Miss Grey. I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow.”

  Justin nodded and took a step back from the table. “I’ll be going now. Joe’s reading to Toby in the parlor, and I need to put him to bed.”

  Alex rose and extended a hand, just touching the edge of his sleeve. “One more thing?”

  He glanced down at her hand then raised his eyes to hers. “Anything.”

  “The church is having a picnic lunch down in the meadow after church this Sunday. Would you care to come?” She sensed the hesitation in his eyes and rushed on. “As part of our ranch family, of course. Most of the wranglers try to come if they’re not on duty.”

  He pursed his lips and nodded. “Sure. Toby would like that. Will Martha and Joe be there?”

  “Yes. Uncle Joe will make Martha comfortable in the wagon. She doesn’t go to town often, but you couldn’t keep her away from the combination of church and a social.” Alex gave a small grimace. “I’m not much on the social part and would just as soon head home, but it means a lot to Martha.”

  His entire face transformed with a warm light. “Good for you.” He pushed in his chair. “Guess I’d best go rescue Joe from Toby.”

  Alex swung off her horse in front of the doctor’s office and wrapped the reins around the hitching rail. She shook herself free from the tantalizing thoughts of Justin’s smile and the words he’d spoken the night before. Other men had told her they thought her beautiful, but their words didn’t play havoc with her heart the way Justin’s had done. Friends. She sighed. Why did that word disappoint her? Hadn’t they made excellent progress lately?

  She rapped on the doctor’s door and pulled it open, slipping inside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they did, she spotted Doc Stevens hunkered over his desk and scribbling at high speed in a journal of some sort. “Doc?”

  He jumped as though shot and his eyeglasses fell off the tip of his nose and hit the tabletop with a clatter. “Miss Travers. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I’m sorry, Doc. I knocked, but I guess it wasn’t loud enough.”

  “No, no—not your fault. I’m still catching up on my rest and not as attentive as I should be. What can I do for you?” He picked up his eyeglasses and perched them higher on the bridge of his nose.

  “I wanted to see how Miss Grey is doing. And talk to you about her care.” Alex slipped into the chair propped against the nearby wall.

  “Yes, I see.” He rubbed his chin and gazed with unseeing eyes at the top of Alex’s head. “Care, you say?”

  “Yes. When she’s well enough to leave, I wondered if she has a place to go. Has she spoken of it?”

  “No. I’ve had her on steady doses of laudanum since she arrived, and she’s not said much at all. Seems to be aware of where she is but has no desire to speak.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I’m not too worried about her organs anymore. Seems she’s just badly bruised and has a couple of broken ribs. Could’ve been much worse.”

  “Does she know who hurt her? Have they caught him?”

  He shook his head and wisps of hair brushed his collar. “Sheriff came and asked her some questions, but she was none too helpful. Ralph checks on her often, but he’s not brought word of an arrest.”

  Alex folded her hands in her lap. “How long do you think she’ll need to stay?”

  “That depends on where she’d be going. Can’t go back to working in that saloon till her ribs heal, and that’ll take weeks. But she could leave fairly soon if she’s able to stay in bed and not move around much.”

  “I’d like to take her home when she’s ready. If you think I’m capable of caring for her, that is.” She sat up straight and planted her feet squarely on the floor under her chair, hoping he’d see her as the adult she’d become rather than the girl he used to treat for childhood ailments.

  The doctor stared over the top of his eyeglasses again, seemingly at a loss for words or else drifting off to sleep—she couldn’t be certain by the blank look in his eyes. He shook his head and ran his hand over his chin. “Sorry. You want to take her home? She’s not a stray puppy, you know.”

  Alex almost rolled her eyes at the repeat of Elizabeth’s words. “I’m aware of that, and yes, I want to take her home.”

  He leaned forward, his gaze suddenly sharp and focused. “But are you aware of what the young lady does for a living? I mean, do you really think it would be wise….” His words trailed off.

  Alex pushed to her feet and clenched her hands at her sides, working to keep her voice calm. “Yes—to both questions. She’s a person, Doc—a person who’s been hurt and needs care. I don’t care what she does for a living; she won’t be doing it at my house, and she’s too broken up to cause any harm.”

  “Not physical harm, no. But tongues will wag if you take a woman like her to your home. What do Martha and Joe have to say? Have you consulted them?”

  Alex crossed her arms and raised her chin. “It’s my home, but yes, I’ve discussed it with them. Martha isn’t thrilled, but she’s willing to help, as is Uncle Joe.” She wanted to tap her toe and place her hands on her hips, but she willed herself to relax her stance and sink back into the chair. She knew that Doc Stevens cared about his patients—every one of them—and he would be remiss in his care for her as an old family friend if he didn’t question her request. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve thought this through. I’d like to care for Miss Grey, if you think I’m capable.”

  He clasped his hands and leaned his chin on his knuckles. “I do. Especially with Martha’s help.” He paused and rubbed the rough bristle covering his chin. “I must confess I’m pleased you’re willing to do this. Not many respectable women would take on someone in Miss Grey’s position. Your father would be proud of you, Alexia. He always loved the scripture about the Good Samaritan, and I must say you’re doing a fine job in living up to that story.” He tapped his fingers on the desk and pursed his lips. “I’ll release her to you on Monday. Another four days in my care and she should be ready to go.” A spasmodic jerk of his head and rapidly blinking eyes signaled a sudden thought. “I imagine you need to get her permission before we move forward.”

  Alex stifled a groan. Christy’s desires hadn’t entered into her figuring. She’d been so focused on helping the woman that it hadn’t occurred to her that Christy might not want to come. “You’re right. I’ll speak to her. Would now be a good time, or should I come back?”

  “Now should be fine. I’ll see if she’s awake and you can have a few minutes. Just don’t tire her too much.” He placed the palm of his hands on the desk and heaved to his feet. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  He disappeared behind the curtain for several moments then returned and motioned Alex forward. “You can go in.” He stepped aside to let her pass and pulled the curtain behind her.

  The sound of his footsteps faded and a soft click of the front door signaled his departure from the office. The muscles in Alex’s stomach clenched, and she
drew a deep breath. She turned her attention toward the bed, unsure of what her reception might be. Christy lay unmoving, with her back to the room. The wayward tufts sticking out of the braided red hair evidenced an unpracticed hand. A light sheet covered the slender frame, not giving any indication of the damaged body beneath.

  Alex took a tentative step and paused. Could Christy have fallen asleep so quickly, or did she not care to see a visitor? “Miss Grey? Are you awake?”

  The figure on the bed didn’t stir. Alex tiptoed closer and tried to peek over the still form, hoping to see Christy’s face, but it was burrowed into the pillow. “I won’t bother you, then. I’ll come back another time, when you’re feeling up to talking.”

  She turned away and took two steps to the curtained doorway when a soft noise arrested her attention. “Christy? Did you say something?”

  “I heard you talking.” The muffled words were barely discernible coming from the depths of the pillow. Her head moved and the red braid shifted. “I’m not going home with you.”

  Alex slipped across the short distance and reached a tentative hand toward Christy’s shoulder then drew it back. No telling where she’d been hurt. “Can you turn over, or would you like me to help you?”

  A slight shake of the head on the pillow served as her answer.

  “All right, then I’ll stand here and talk to your back. You’ve no place to go and Doc Stevens can’t keep you here until you heal. We have an unused room on the ground floor, and I’m offering it to you for as long as you need it.”