The Deputy's Duty

by Terri Reed

  “Joe? Your tea will get cold. Where are you going—”

  The outside door slammed shut, cutting her off. He floated down the steps, not feeling the blast of the frigid wind or the bite of snowflakes against his face. “Lanna!”

  “Joe!” She whirled from her work. “What are you doing out in this cold without a coat?”

  “Good question.” Getting his jacket hadn’t occurred to him. “I have to ask you something before I lose my nerve. Come to the party tonight.”

  “Y-your mother’s ball?”

  “Yes. With me.” He watched the surprise fade from her heart-shaped face. She had the biggest eyes, so wide and expressive. His pulse gave a nervous skitter as he watched shadows creep into her eyes.

  “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

  “Why? I’m asking you to come with me, Lanna—” He heard his mother bellowing at the doorstep, calling him in. If she came out here, then Lanna was sure to say no. He had better convince her fast. “Please come. For old time’s sake. For my sake.”

  “I—” The shadows changed into something more vulnerable. Hurt crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I can’t say no to you, Joe.”

  He smiled. “I know. And I’m using it against you.” He could hear his mother coming closer, scolding him about his coat. “I’ll be waiting for you. Please, don’t let me down.”

  He saw the tiniest trace of a smile on Lanna’s face. It was enough to give him hope. An arctic blast of wind hit him like a freight train and he shivered, hurrying back to the house. He prayed it wasn’t too late for a second chance with her. Maybe too much time had passed, but he had to find out. Real love, the kind they had shared, only came around once in a lifetime. Now that he was wise enough to know that, he would do everything in his power not to lose her again.

  THREE

  Lanna held up her skirts as she picked her way down the walk behind Clarissa Bell and her older sister. The two fashionable girls had chosen not to turn around and say hello, but ambled proudly ahead, talking loudly of their dresses—the latest French style, the finest imported silks and the fashionable hoops that made their skirts hover an inch above the ground like royalty.

  I really should turn back. She hesitated at the bottom step. The grand, double-door entrance towered above her, offering a view of the marble and cherrywood foyer. The butler was at the door along with a brigade of servants taking coats and mufflers and expensive furs from the fine guests.

  She looked down at her dress, the nicest one she had, kept from better days when she had too many frilly frocks to count, and remembered Joe’s words. I’ll be waiting for you. Please, don’t let me down.

  Oh, Joe, I wish I could. Her heart tugged at the kind, honest plea that had been in his eyes—his beautiful eyes. No. Don’t get carried away. She had to remind herself that tonight was for old time’s sake, two old friends coming together to reminisce and exchange news. That was all. Her heart was not in jeopardy. She set her chin and tucked away her feelings. Now, a quick prayer for courage—

  “Lanna!” Joe emerged through the doorway, framed by light and graced by the night. Relief showed on his chiseled face as he breezed right by the Bell sisters as if they were invisible. “I had almost begun to think you had let me down.”

  “How could I do that?” Seeing him made all her doubts slip away and all the romantic hopes that she’d just tried to quash surge up with the force of a tidal wave. She smiled. “This is the night for auld lang syne. For good old times.”

  “So it is.” He towered on the steps above her and held out his hand.

  She placed her gloved fingers on his palm and the connection was like the sweet moonlight, silvered and rich. “My parents send their good wishes,” she said.

  “I hope you send them mine as well.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her up the stairs. “They were always good to me. I wish I could have been here to have helped them when they needed it.”

  “There was little anyone could do.” She concentrated on taking each step at a time in her last pair of kid slippers. She didn’t want to talk about how hard that time had been. This was a night for celebration, and she and Joe were no longer close. He had his life, worlds apart from what hers had become.

  “A good lawyer could have helped them. And I suspect they’re not the only ones who could use legal advice.” Joe led her through the arched doorway and protected her from the crush of people. “It only proves that I’ve made the right decision about my chosen profession.”

  “You will make a good lawyer, Joe.”

  “I surely hope so. I plan to start looking for a building Monday morning.” He leaned close. “Let me help you with your cloak.”

  Her mind jolted to a stop. He was staying in town. That meant he would be living in this house where she worked six out of seven days. Panic gripped her. How was she going to face that, knowing how he affected her? Knowing that he could never be hers to love again?

  Like she had faced everything else: with dignity and faith. Somehow, she had to believe God would work this out. Maybe Joe would be marrying soon and would buy his own house. Or maybe Geneva would fire her, since she had always ensured that Lanna’s work hours did not overlap with Joe’s scheduled visits home. Still, that did not stop the sting of regret that pierced her heart.

  She loosened her cloak. “That’s what you always said you would do. Come back and practice law here in Angel Falls. Though I imagine it was tempting to stay back East.”

  “Boston was nice enough, but it’s not Montana.”

  His fingers brushed her nape as he helped her out of the garment. She felt dizzy—surely the heat and the crush of people. Not Joe’s closeness.

  “It’s my opinion that small town life is more…fulfilling.” He handed off her cloak to one of the hired servants. “Everything I’ve ever loved is in this town. What is Boston and some fancy practice compared to that?”

  Surely he was speaking of his family. She had to quiet a sudden wistful pang. It was not right. It was not welcome. “Your mother must be thrilled. She is ready to plan the wedding, you know—”

  “The wedding?”

  “Yes… . You look stunned.” Poor Joe. Weddings seemed to be hardest on the grooms. Lanna held her heart perfectly still. She would always adore him, always want the very best for him. His happiness was what mattered. “I gather Geneva has not kept you informed of her plans. I only know she wants the house scrubbed top to bottom again for the end of January. She’s mentioned hopes for a February wedding.”

  “That will be mighty hard to do seeing as I’m not even engaged.”

  “You’re not?” A vine of hope managed to find a crack through the walls around her heart.

  “Is that what she told you?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “To Adrianna Beauchamp?” He fisted his hands. “Mother is the one who wants such a marriage. I do not. Adrianna is the daughter of my uncle’s business partner. We were forced to spend time together on Sunday dinners.”

  “You don’t have to explain to me, Joe. We broke up. We have been apart for years. Of course you would beau other girls.”

  “I’ve never beaued anyone but you. Adrianna was no more interested in me than I was in her. It was our families’ hopes, never ours.” His throat worked and he swallowed hard. His chest felt all tangled up with a confusing array of emotions: anger at his mother, sadness at ever having lost Lanna. But also happiness when he looked into her eyes and saw the joy that his words had brought. “Has my mother told you something like this before?”

  She shielded her eyes, bowing her head. Soft golden tendrils tumbled across her face, but nothing could hide her heart from him. How could his mother interfere like this? She was headstrong and loved him, but that was no justification. But gazing at Lanna’s face, he could no
t hold on to any negative feelings—all his anger and hurt was washed away by his affection for her. He cleared his throat, but the emotion remained, stalwart and true. “Believe me, Lanna. I am not courting anyone.”

  “You d-don’t have to tell me this.”

  “The only lady I have ever courted was you.”

  “I remember those wonderful times.” She looked up at him, daring to meet his gaze.

  “So do I.” He offered her his arm. “Let’s go into the ballroom. The music has started.”

  Lanna couldn’t hear a thing. Not the string orchestra, not the clamor of the guests surrounding her, not even the pad of her slippers on the perfectly polished floor. There was nothing but the rush of bliss in her heart.

  Joe was not getting married. Joe was not courting anyone.

  You’re being foolhardy again, Lanna, the logical side of her said. Just because he was unattached did not mean anything. He had asked her here out of old friendship. And if those old dreams began to whisper with hope, then that was simply foolish. If she listened to those whispers, then she was bound to be disappointed and worse, hurt. She was no longer the kind of woman that Joe, the former governor’s son, would court. She had to be sensible.

  But with her hand tucked in the crook of Joe’s arm, it was terribly difficult to be sensible. With each step she took, she felt as if she were floating on a fluffy white cloud. That’s what it was like to be with Joe and at his side.

  “Remember the last night we were here together?” His baritone was a low, familiar rumble. “It was New Year’s Eve then, too.”

  “It was right before your family was set to leave for the capitol.”

  “Yes. It was also the last time we saw each other.” Sweetness filled her at the memory—and at the way he took her by the hand with pride and led her into the crowded ballroom. A stately sonata lifted from the strings of the violin and cello in the far corner of the grand room.

  Some things had not changed. The skip of joy in her veins, the buoyancy of being on his arm, the feeling of being alive again and young. It was as if she’d left her worries and hardships at the door. Her love for Joe returned as strong as ever, as if time had stood still.

  “Look at everyone staring.” His voice rumbled against her ear. “We’ve surprised them.”

  “I would say so.” But all Lanna could see was Joe, breathtaking in his formal black suit and tails.

  “May I have this dance?” He took her hand and claimed her heart.

  FOUR

  How could she say no? The lilting strains of a waltz shimmered in the air and the light of hundreds of candles reflecting off the crystal teardrops of the high chandeliers made her remember another time in this same ballroom.

  “I would love to waltz with you.”

  That made him smile and he led her to the edge of the dance floor. Stately couples had already started the slow, graceful three-step. Nerves twinkled in her stomach as she placed her hand on Joe’s iron shoulder. When his hand rested at the small of her back and she gazed up into his dark eyes, the floor tilted.

  “This reminds me of old times.” He shuffled a step, bringing her gently with him. “Do you remember that night?”

  “How could I forget?” She had been a farmer’s daughter, even if her stepfather had been well-landed, and she had never seen such a lavish place as this ballroom. She had worn a gown of yellow silk adorned with pearls and French lace. The cost of the dress could have fed them all for a year these days, but how she had adored that gown.

  But it wasn’t her feelings for the dress that she remembered most about that magical evening. That had been the night they had fallen in love. Gently. Sweetly. Like the quiet notes of a sonata lifting into the brilliant winter’s night. All he had done was take her hand and asked her to dance, but it had been like grace coming to her soul. She no longer heard the music and the presence of the other dancers faded away. It was as if they had been alone, lost in each other.

  After they had danced, he led her out onto the terrace, giving her his jacket to keep her warm—and they had watched the star-strewn sky. They had kissed—their first and only—and he had told her he intended to marry her one day.

  He had promised to love her forever—but surely he did not remember that after all these years. Too much time had passed. Some promises, no matter how sincere, were not meant to be kept.

  Or were they? Anything seemed possible when she was in his arms.

  There she went, being nonsensical. She did not know how Joe felt. Yet, she couldn’t help but hold on to a tiny flicker of hope that he still cared, just a little. He remembered their last ball—at least, perhaps it was special to him, too… .

  “You know, that night I felt like a fairy-tale princess who had caught the charming prince.”

  “You made me feel like one.” He turned her in a slow, elegant swirl.

  His response encouraged her heart—but then he changed the subject with another question: “Tell me how you came to be a maid for my mother.”

  She sighed. “I started working three evenings a week cleaning for the Angel Falls Hotel, but it wasn’t enough. Still, when I heard your parents had moved back in town and were hiring, I did not even think of applying.”

  “I believe you.” He winced. “You could not have been eager to come face-to-face with my mother again.”

  “It wasn’t your mother but memories of you.”

  Joe almost stopped when he heard that. “Did remembering me bring you that much pain?” He winced at the thought. Here she was in his arms and his heart was filling with more emotions than he could count—all of them tender and all of them for her—and she was hurting. He had to stop that. He had to fix it. Somehow he prayed he could make everything right. “I want you to remember the good times, Lanna. How happy we were together.”

  “But I do remember! We were always laughing.”

  “Yes, we were.” His voice was rough, vulnerable, as memories swept over him. Like the spring they had gone berry-picking near the river. He could still hear her voice… . “Ouch! I can’t believe I got stung again.”

  “Let me come chase off the bees first, then pick the berries.” He had put down his pail and lifted her hands from the vines. Her soft, slim fingers had been stained with berry juice and two welts were rising where the bees had stung her. “Let me make these better,” he’d said and gently kissed each one.

  Memories. He shook them away, bringing his mind back to the present—back to her. Gazing into her lovely face, he could still see the Lanna he had fallen for. Time could not change that.

  She continued, oblivious to his thoughts. “But after you left, there was little to laugh about. My job at the hotel couldn’t support the three of us. So last summer, when word spread that your mother was hiring another maid, I had to at least try for the job. I’m told ten other women applied for the one opening your mother had. She did me the favor of hiring me.”

  “Ah, Lanna. You are still as generous as ever.” He shook his head. “You know why my mother chose you.”

  “To prove a point, I expect, but it was still a benefit to my family, so I’m grateful.”

  He shook his head, wishing his mother’s intentions were as pure as Lanna’s heart. “She was thrilled when my father became governor, not only for the social position but because it separated us.”

  “I know.” While Geneva had not protested, she had made her displeasure known throughout their courtship. “You broke my heart when you left, Joe.”

  “Mine broke, too.” He fell silent, but there was more in his eyes, more that he chose not to say.

  Just as Lanna chose silence. For self-protection. To shore up the pieces of her heart. It all seemed too good to be true, waltzing in Joe’s arms.

  Yet, all songs came to an end, and this one w
as no different. The final notes rang bittersweetly through the ballroom. She took a step back and curtsied. Joe bowed.

  Their dance was over.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder. There, towering behind her was a man she did not recognize. Perhaps a connection to the Wolf family from their political days?

  “Miss, may I have the next free dance on your card?” the gentlemen asked courteously.

  Her jaw dropped. Why would he ask her? She bit her lip before the question could slip out.

  “Oh, no you don’t, Chance Bell.” Joe chuckled. “Lanna isn’t about to keep company with the likes of you.”

  Chance Bell? Lanna did not recognize him—then again, he’d been several years ahead of them in school. He’d grown much taller and had a pirate’s grin, one that spelled trouble. Next to him, Joe’s rugged, confident maturity looked even more admirable.

  Not that she should be noticing. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Sorry, Chance. I don’t have a dance card. I only came by to say hello to Joe.”

  Chance raised one eyebrow. “Seems like that waltz was more than a simple hello. I should have known I didn’t have a shot.”

  He is only being polite and charming, Lanna told herself as Chance winked at her and walked away. Surely Joe could see that, too. Although that did not explain why he had drawn himself up like a gorilla. “Joe? Are you all right?”

  “Oh yes, fine. You didn’t want to waltz with him, did you?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “That’s a relief.” He blew out a little air, looking a little more like himself. “Chance is a wily sort. Not the kind of gentleman you might feel comfortable with.”

  “Oh, and I feel comfortable with you?”

  That made him laugh, though it had not entirely been a joke. Perhaps he had not guessed the truth. After all, he made her uncomfortable because of her feelings for him. Lanna reminded herself that she still did not know what he felt for her.