“Hello, Vincent.”
“Wow,” Vincent said as she untied her cloak, “Lillian, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Lillian said, blushing.
“Which makes this all the worse,” Vincent said, his face twisted with remorse.
“What does?” Lillian asked.
“I cannot accompany you tonight,” he replied sadly, “I must take the train tonight, for a business trip,”
“Oh,” Lillian said, feeling a little crestfallen.
“I had been looking forward to this evening,” Vincent said, taking Lillian’s hand in his.
“Me too,” Lillian said politely.
“Will you allow me to make it up to you once I return?” he asked.
“Of course,” Lillian responded.
“Thank you,” Vincent said happily.
* * *
Later that night, Lillian sat at the corner of the bar, sipping her drink. The opening had been a success, and Uncle Jacob and her mother had accompanied her. It had been a beautiful moment when pastor Williams blessed the hotel, and Uncle Jacob gave a powerful speech, welcoming a new beginning to Rust Canyon. But Lillian couldn’t help feeling a little down.
Although she had not been sure of her feelings towards Vincent, she did feel sad that they could not have had this evening together. The waiters moved gracefully around the room, refilling the guests’ drinks, and Lillian noticed her Uncle sitting at a table, surrounded by men that seemed to be as important as he was, roaring with laughter at her Uncle’s latest joke.
Lillian watched the couples on the dance floor, moving in time with the band that Uncle Jacob had hired for the night. At that moment, they were playing a cheerful piece, and the couples dancing swept across the dance floor.
How I would have liked to be dancing there with them, Lillian sighed as she took another sip of her drink. She had stood dutifully next to her Uncle during his speech and danced with him the first dance of the evening. Lillian had noticed quite a few men looking in her direction, but no one seemed to dare come over to her to ask her to dance.
Lillian had been wondering when it would not be considered rude of her to go home when she noticed a man enter the Saloon. At once, her eyes were fixed upon the tall man, who was swaggering over to her. Her heart fluttered, and she tried to calm her nerves as the handsome stranger.
Chapter Four
Lillian nervously put her glass clumsily on the table in front of her. The strange man caught her eye, and he purposefully walked towards her, easily dodging out of the way of the waiters carrying flutes of champagne.
“Evening, miss,” the man finally stopped in front of Lillian.
“Good evening,” Lillian replied, grateful that her voice had remained steadier than her hands.
What is wrong with me? Why do I feel nervous and flustered all of a sudden?
“My name is Michael.” He tipped her his hat. “Michael Flemming.”
“Lillian Walter,” she responded with a small smile.
“Pleased to meet ya’,” Michael said, “This is some evening,” he added after a brief pause.
“The Saloon-Hotel just opened.”
“The big grand opening,” Michael muttered.
“Yes,” Lillian responded a little more resolutely than she had meant. But Michael did not seem perturbed by her boldness.
“Such a grand hotel for a small town,” Michael added, looking around the people on the dance floor.
“It’s a busy town,” Lillian quipped back.
“It sure is,” Michael said, looking back at Lillian.
“Won’t you have a drink?” Lillian asked, signaling the bartender.
“Oh, no, thank you, miss,” Michael apologized, then he added, “Not while I’m working.”
Lillian observed him for a moment before she said matter-of-factly, “You’re the new sheriff.”
“That’s right,” Michael said with an amused grin.
“What gave it away?” he added.
“I can always tell people’s occupation,” Lillian added with a teasing smile.
What am I doing? He has such a draw to him that I cannot help myself…
“That’s quite an achievement,” Michael responded, carefully looking at Lillian as if he were memorizing her face.
“I saw your badge,” Lillian added with an amused grin.
Michael only chuckled and looked deep into her eyes. And suddenly, Lillian felt as if time had stopped moving. His gaze was intense, and she felt as if she ought to look away but was unable. Perhaps it was the single glass of champagne she had drunk or feeling emboldened after sitting in the corner watching people have fun; she was not sure.
“I wonder if you could assist me,” Michael finally said, looking away. Lillian felt as though she had just spun around like a peg top.
“How might I assist you?” she asked.
“I only took over the sheriff position very recently, and I am still catching up,” Michael began, “I want to know more about what has happened here in Rust Canyon.”
“But you want to know about the fires?” Lillian guessed. Immediately she regretted her presumption.
What must this man think of me… This is just like when I was young. I should hold my tongue.
But Lillian was surprised when Michael answered simply, “That’s right,” then he added, “I will be going around the town tomorrow, but this place seems to be as good a place as any, although I do feel a little underdressed.” He looked down at Lillian’s beautiful dress and gave her a warm smile.
“Well, most recently, there was the terrible fire at the Wesley woodshop, Lillian hurried to say as she felt her cheeks burning. “It was a real tragedy,” she added, and she told him about the terrible death of Finnegan Wesley.
“His poor wife, Agnes, she’s all alone with three small children,” Lillian said sadly.
“That’s awful,” Michael replied, sincerely.
“There was the fire at the old barn next to the train station, and of course, the fire here,” Lillian said.
“Here?” Michael said curiously.
“Yes, there was a huge fire here, almost a year ago,” Lillian explained, “It looks amazing now, don’t you think.”
“It sure does,” Michael responded without taking his eyes of Lillian.
“There seems to be a cloud of misfortune over us,” Lillian said, looking at her hands.
“Why do you say that?” Michael asked.
“Well, there was, of course, the tragic loss of your father,” Lillian said, quickly glancing at Michael, “And then there was the robbery…” her voice broke.
“What robbery?” Michael asked quietly, but at that moment, Uncle Jacob came bustling towards the two of them.
“My dear Lillian,” Uncle Jacob said but stopped in his tracks as he noticed Michael and the somber look on his niece’s face.
“Lillian?” he asked, concerned.
“Oh, Uncle,” Lillian quickly cleared her throat and looked between Michael and her Uncle.
“This is Michael Flemming, our new,” she started, but Uncle Jacob cut her off.
“Our new sheriff, I presume?” Uncle Jacob finished and put out his hand, shaking Michael’s hand firmly.
“I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” he said. “Your father was a great man.”
“Thank you,” Michael said. Uncle Jacob’s gaze lingered on the new sheriff for a moment before he turned back to his niece.
“I have wonderful news,” Uncle Jacob exclaimed.
“Oh?” Lillian asked tepidly.
“Vincent decided he would stay one more night in town so that he could spend the evening with you,” Uncle Jacob said excitedly, “He will leave early in the morning instead.”
“W… wonderful,” Lillian spluttered, and suddenly she could not look in Michael’s direction anymore. The air felt clammy and awkward.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Michael said, standing up, “Thank you for your help, miss Lillian.”
&nbs
p; “Of course,” Lillian responded, “Happy to,” she added in a half-whisper as Michael slowly walked away from her and Uncle Jacob.
* * *
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Vincent said, appearing from behind Uncle Jacob, dressed in a freshly pressed suit and his hair carefully combed back.
“Thank you,” Lillian said, forcing her to look at Vincent and not to follow the handsome sheriff with her eyes.
“Would you care to dance?” Vincent said, offering her his hand.
“I would be delighted,” Lillian smiled, and Uncle Jacob looked as if he would soon burst with excitement. They walked together to the dance floor, and Vincent guided her expertly across the dance floor.
“I do hope you will forgive me for my indecisiveness,” Vincent said.
“There is no need to apologize,” Lillian insisted, but Vincent continued.
“No, I must,” he said, “I knew you were looking forward to the evening, and I…” he hesitated for a moment, “and I wanted to be here with you.”
“I am glad,” Lillian said with a kind smile.
“Good,” Vincent said, looking relieved. They danced together as if they had done so many times before. Vincent was secure in his movement and gently guided her, and as he turned her around, a small group of people around them cheered and clapped. Lillian looked towards the crowd, and then she noticed Michael standing in the back, looking at her.
Oh my… I feel I should not be looking at him; it is not proper, Lillian chastised herself.
Vincent must have noticed her trepidation because he stopped dancing and looked at Lillian, “Are you all right?” he asked worryingly.
“I’m fine,” Lillian said, feeling embarrassed.
“Maybe we should step outside and get a little air?” Vincent suggested.
“That’s a great idea,” Lillian said thankfully. Together they walked to the front porch of the hotel, Vincent looking apprehensively at Lillian.
“Do you feel better?” He asked.
“I do, thank you.”
“This is actually better,” Vincent admitted. Then added at the puzzled look on Lillian, “Less noise, we can spend time together and actually hear each other.”
“And with no meddling uncle,” Lillian laughed.
“I’m grateful for your uncle,” Vincent said quietly, “Without his assurance that there was a very special woman I had to meet, I’m not sure I would have stayed longer here in Rust Canyon.”
“Is that so?” Lillian said, surprised.
“My business is mostly in the bigger cities, but I like it here,” Vincent said, looking intently at her, “The people are good,” he added. Lillian did not respond but smiled.
“How about we dance one dance before the night is over, and perhaps I might escort you home later?” Vincent asked, hopefully.
“Sounds good,” Lillian replied, trying to keep herself from looking in the direction of the hooves she could hear.
* * *
Michael rode away from the noisy hotel. The light from the ballroom lit up the main street, but he resolutely rode away towards his home. His horse was old and tired, his father’s old steed, but he knew the way home, which gave Michael time to reflect. He had hoped to get some answers tonight, but his mind was filled with questions now, and not all of them about the mysterious fires and deaths.
As he neared the road that led to his father’s old house, he had an idea. He pulled on the reins and steered the horse to the right to make it turn around. The horse grudgingly turned, and as Michael gently kicked its sides, the horse slowly moved faster.
Michael rode past the train station, towards the old barn that Lillian had mentioned. Something about it did not sit right with him, but he could not figure out what it was. As he neared the barn, or what was left of it, he looked around in the darkness. There was not much to see. The barn still stood up, but it was blackened and looked as if it would fall down at the slightest movement.
This should really be pulled down, Michael pondered as he tried to ride closer. The tall grass and large pieces of wood proved to be a bit much for the horse, though.
“Come on now, boy,” Michael muttered to the horse, trying to guide it past a large piece of wood. Michael kicked the horse a little harder this time, but the creature resolutely refused to move further.
“All right then.” Michael pulled back the reins, annoyed. Just as he was about to look away from the burning ruin of a building, he was sure he saw something move. As he peered into the darkness, the horse began moving, causing Michael to almost slip off the saddle.
“We are going. We are going,” Michael said, annoyed. He looked behind his shoulder, trying to see if there was something there, but he saw nothing.
“Let’s go home,” he said, and the horse sped up.
The ride back home was much quicker than he had expected. What was it about that barn? Why did Miss Lillian’s story remind me of it?
Once he was home, Michael jumped off the horse and gently guided it into the small stable. He removed the saddle and stroked the tired old horse.
“I’m going to need a new horse,” Michael chuckled as he walked into the house. It still felt strange being here alone. Michael had spent little time inside this house as he could when he was younger, and now he half-dreaded going here. Everywhere around him was evidence of his father. The messy kitchen still had dirty bowls on the kitchen counter, and the kitchen table was covered with a large map of the county.
Michael peered at the map, and that’s when he remembered what made him think of the barn. It was from his father’s notebook, and something he had mentioned in one of his letters to Michael, he couldn’t remember which one. Michael grabbed the bottle of bourbon from the top shelf and moved into the slightly less messy sitting room, carrying the notebooks and the letters with him.
He sat in the big chair, which had a large tear on the left armrest and exhaled deeply. There was so much to do, and still, he needed more answers. Tomorrow he would go around the town to get more responses. Someone knows more than they think; they always do.
I will start by going from house to house, that’s a good start. I wonder when I will be able to meet the sweet Lillian again, Michael thought with a small grin. No one has quite captured my attention as she did. I do hope our paths will cross sooner rather than later.
* * *
Lillian stood next to her uncle, who was laughing raucously at something Vincent had said, shaking his hand cheerfully. It was getting quite late, but people were still dancing and drinking in the ballroom.
“Vincent here tells me he offered to walk you home,” Uncle Jacob said, turning his to Lillian.
“Yes, he did,” Lillian responded.
“That’s a splendid idea,” Uncle Jacob said, “just wonderful.”
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Uncle,” Lillian stepped on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
“You are like an angel sent down from heaven,” Uncle Jacob replied, “Oh, and before I forget,” he added. “you should take the day off tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” Lillian asked apprehensively.
“Certain,” Uncle Jacob said, “You have been working so hard these past days, and I want you to relax a little.”
“Thank you,” Lillian said emotionally.
“Should we get going?” Vincent said after a short pause.
“Yes,” Lillian replied. Uncle Jacob helped her put on her coat and waved them off as Lillian and Vincent began walking away from the hotel.
“I’m glad I decided to come,” Vincent said after they had walked in silence for a while.
“Me too,” Lillian said.
“You certainly know how to talk to my uncle,” she added with a chuckle.
“I grew up around men like him,” Vincent replied.
“Do you frequent many events like this one?” Lillian asked.
“Only when I have to,” he responded, then he quickly added, “tonight was the first time in a long while
that I truly wanted to go to such an event.”
“That’s a very kind of you to say,” Lillian said, looking at the ground.
“Listen,” Vincent began stopping and taking her hand in his, “I hope I am not too presumptuous, but once I return from my trip, I was hoping we could spend some more time together, just you and me.”
Longing For The Tormented Sheriff (Historical Western Romance) Page 4
