“Some, yes, but not all.” Bethany had known a few herself. “And the Lord Himself is certainly no hypocrite. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Perfect and loving.”
Angie lifted a doubtful brow. “Well, maybe He is, and maybe you’re different. You sure did take a chance coming over here today.”
Bethany smiled, feeling hopeful. “Do you like to read?” As the question rolled off her tongue, she wondered where it came from, and she felt momentarily embarrassed for asking.
However, Angie’s reply alleviated her chagrin. “I love to read.” She rolled a slender shoulder. “But I don’t have any books. None of the other girls own many, and what they’ve got I’ve read.”
“I have a lot of books. They were donated to the school, and many of them aren’t fitting for children, but they’re fine for adults. I’d be happy to share.”
“Would you?” Angie’s face gleamed.
“I’ll gather together a few volumes and bring them by tomorrow. Is that all right?”
“You’re comin’ back here?” Angie shook her blonde head.
“I’ll try.”
“You’re crazy.” Angie pulled her shoulders back. “Something tells me you won’t be teaching school here for long—not if you keep company with me.”
“No one has to know.” Bethany held out her right hand. “Friends?”
“Are you loco? You can’t be friends with me.”
Bethany stood undaunted, her hand outstretched.
Finally, Angie acquiesced. “Friends…at your own risk, mind you.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Smiling, Bethany turned and made her way down the alley. Sheriff Montaño still leaned against the door frame, waiting for her.
“Your good deed for the day is now done.” His dark eyes glimmered with amusement.
“Something like that. Thank you, Sheriff.”
Without so much as a backward glance, Bethany left Paden’s office and crossed Main Street. Several passersby called greetings to her, and she politely acknowledged them. Oddly, the heat didn’t seem quite so stifling anymore.
She entered the boardinghouse and left word that she’d be at school for a while. Leaving the Winters’s establishment, Bethany quickly set out to select some books for Angie.
EIGHT
ANNETTA’S LIMBS ACHED FROM THE DAY’S BUSYNESS. JUST after she returned to her office this morning, three men burst in, bloodied and in need of her attention. She’d dug an arrowhead out of Miles Lohan’s shoulder. She’d set Jim Tucker’s arm. Pete Littleton had a nasty gash on his head that Annetta stitched. But none of the men would say what happened.
Then Tom Richter hobbled into the office with the help of his wife, Ruth. He had a broken leg and some minor contusions. He’d muttered his injuries were a result of an Indian attack and that he was just lucky to be alive.
Indians?
After that, Annetta had to tend to Ruth Richter, who’d fainted from sheer fright.
What a day! But at last her patients had gone home to recuperate. She locked her office door and started toward the boardinghouse but noticed a faint light coming from the school. She wondered why Miss Stafford would be there this late in the evening.
A moment’s deliberation, and then Annetta strode toward the schoolhouse. That naïve teacher probably had no idea a threat of an Indian attack hung over the town like a fog.
Reaching the plank door, she knocked before pushing it open.
Miss Stafford startled. “Dr. Cavanaugh?” She sat on the floor with piles of books surrounding her.
“It’s getting dark, and I saw the lamplight shining from the window.” Seeing Miss Stafford’s wide, bright eyes, Annetta decided not to worry her. “We’ll have to hurry if we hope to make it to the boardinghouse for dinner. Mrs. Winters closes the dining room at seven.”
“Oh, dear, I must have lost track of time.” The slender, yet shapely, teacher stood to her feet and stretched. She surveyed her books. “I’ll have to come back early tomorrow morning and finish my project.”
Annetta smiled. “Shall we go?”
“Definitely. I’m famished.”
Miss Stafford turned down the lamp, and outside she locked the door. Peering around the structure she looked back at Annetta. “It doesn’t appear that Luke and Jake are back from the Whitaker’s ranch yet.”
“It’s quite the ride out. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” Annetta narrowed her gaze, curious. “Are you worried about them?”
“Maybe just a little. I dislike the thought of them riding home in the dark. I heard the sheriff tell Luke that not all vaqueros are friendly, especially if they’ve been tipping the bottle, if you know what I mean.”
“I most certainly do.” Annetta locked elbows with the younger woman. “And for the same reason we ought to make haste to the boardinghouse.”
They quickened their steps down the warped boardwalk and arrived without incident. Once inside, delicious smells assailed Annetta. She inhaled deeply, and her stomach rumbled in anticipation of being fed. As they entered the dining room, she was surprised to see the Winterses and Paden Montaño still sitting around the table. Usually at this hour the room was deserted except for the servants clearing dishes.
“Please join us, ladies.” Mr. Winters stood.
Paden pushed to his feet as well. He smiled at Annetta and winked at Bethany, who quickly lowered her gaze.
Annetta narrowed her eyes at the man. Would he ever cease his philandering ways? He’d already gotten tongues wagging about Silverstone’s new teacher.
She and Bethany were seated, and Rosalinda carried in two servings of beans and rice and a plate of warm flour tortillas. Annetta waited to eat until Miss Stafford had finished her silent prayer and ignored the pinch of guilt. She no longer believed there was a God in heaven. If He truly existed, He wouldn’t have allowed her to suffer such pain and sorrow—the kind that left emotional scars and wounds that never healed.
Miss Stafford lifted her chin, and Annetta shook off her demons before lifting her fork.
“Isn’t it marvelous news?” Mrs. Winters gasped with happiness.
“What news is that?”
“Why, about Bethany and Reverend Luke getting married?”
“Oh? I hadn’t heard.” Annetta glanced at Bethany, who lowered her gaze. “Congratulations, Miss Stafford.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Yes, Miz Stafford, congratulations.” Paden wore a wry grin beneath a hooded glance, and Annetta thought she wouldn’t mind slapping that smug expression off his tanned face. “Reverend Luke is a lucky man.”
Again, the schoolteacher uttered her thanks, and Annetta wondered why she wasn’t filled with wedding plans and giggles. The night she and Gregory became engaged, Annetta had wanted to shout it from the mountaintops.
Stop it! Don’t think about Gregory.
Annetta mentally gripped her wayward thoughts and tossed them aside. She had purposely tried to kill those memories and bury them in Hamilton County before she’d taken the train to Pittsburgh and attended school—all very far away from Silverstone, Arizona. This was her life now.
“Where’s Trudy this evening?” Annetta forced herself to ask so she could steer her mind clear of her past.
“Up in her room,” Mr. Winters replied. “She’s to remain there for the rest of the night.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Winters chimed in. “Our daughter’s behavior required some modification, and spending time by herself will help bring it about.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Annetta pushed out a polite smile before her gaze landed on Bethany Stafford again. Curious, she studied the young woman. With head lowered, Miss Stafford picked at her meal. The features on her slender face appeared to slant downward, an indication she wasn’t happy. Instead she seemed…humiliated. But then one glimpse of Paden’s grinning face across the table and Annetta put the pieces together.
So that was it. The reverend felt obligated to marry the sweet scho
olteacher in order to save her reputation since the sheriff’s actions and young Trudy’s tongue had brought it into question.
Thinking it over, Annetta took a bite of her rice, flavored with peppers, onions, and tomatoes. A taste of sweet and spicy exploded in her mouth and left her hungry for more. She ate another forkful and recalled how Miss Stafford had always seemed very close to the McCabe brothers, comfortable in their company. She’d traveled from Missouri with them. In Annetta’s opinion, marriage to either one of the brothers didn’t seem like the worst that could happen to a woman here in the Territory. Good heavens! Marrying Ralph Jonas would be far more terrible.
So why the long face?
At that moment the door of the boardinghouse opened, and the sound of boots scraping against the plank floor reached the dining room. A thumping sound followed, and Annetta turned to see who walked in. The topics of her thoughts strode across the lobby and stopped, looking like two redwoods as they stood in the threshold. Both men sported damp hair, and Annetta wondered if they’d jumped into the river for a quick washing before coming to dinner. If so, she silently commended their efforts.
Then suddenly a pair of blue eyes landed on Miss Stafford while a shining brown gaze met hers.
She looked away.
“Told you we’d make it back in time for some dinner,” Reverend Luke said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Oh ye of little faith.”
“Of course you’re in time,” Mrs. Winters announced with relish. “Come in and sit down.” She swiveled the upper half of her torso so she faced the doorway to the outer kitchen. “Rosalinda! Another two plates, if you please!”
“Looks like you’re right again, little brother.”
Annetta felt a presence behind her and then froze as Jacob McCabe claimed the chair next to hers. She noticed he used a cane today and his limp seemed more predominant.
“Good evening, everyone…Dr. Cavanaugh.”
“Reverend.” She inclined her head. To her right, Annetta saw Luke McCabe bend at the waist and whisper something to Miss Stafford before he took the place directly across from her and beside the sheriff.
The schoolteacher replied with a timid smile and blushed to her hairline.
Annetta grinned inwardly. It didn’t appear that Miss Stafford minded her intended one bit, and she wished the couple all the happiness in the world. At the same time, she fought off the regret filling her heart. She had once been young and innocent, but then—
She blinked, forestalling the memories. It seemed to be a minute-by-minute feat these days. But why? Why now?
“You missed the excitement, gentlemen.” Sheriff Montaño’s gaze slid from Jake to Luke McCabe.
“Indians ambushed some of Silverstone’s finest men,” Mr. Winters interjected.
“Ambushed?” Jake McCabe sat forward.
“That remains to be seen,” the sheriff said. His dark eyes narrowed in a menacing way.
The conversation lagged when Rosalinda walked in carrying two plates. She set one down in front of Luke first and then Jacob. She glanced around, wiping her large brown hands on her white apron. Seeing that no one needed anything, she returned to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry to hear about the ambush,” Reverend Jake said. “Anyone killed?”
Annetta turned to watch him as he spoke.
“None killed. Several hurt, though,” Mr. Winters said.
“I treated several men who were victims of the attack.” Annetta didn’t know why she decided to add that piece of information.
“Who were they? What was the extent of their injuries?” Mrs. Winters’s greenish-brown eyes were round with curiosity.
Annetta shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t say. I believe in confidentiality between a doctor and her patients.”
“Oh, of course.” The older woman appeared contrite.
Glancing down at her meal, Annetta found herself wishing Silverstone had a hospital—a hospital, and perhaps another doctor or two. While it was true that some days Annetta had very little to do, medically speaking, on other days she felt overwhelmed.
Like today.
“Many Indians were hurt in the, um, ambush as well,” Paden said. There was little mistaking his take on the incident.
Mr. Winters’s face reddened with anger. “Some say you were the one who tipped off the Indians.” He ground out each word.
The sheriff appeared unaffected. “People talk. You know how it is.” He slowly slid his chair back and stood. “One cannot believe gossip. I’m sure everyone at this table would agree, would they not?”
“That’s right, Sheriff,” Jake drawled his words. “But is there any truth to this particular piece of hearsay?”
“None whatsoever, Reverend. However, there is likely another informant, because the Indians were in the right place at the right time. They knew when the vigilantes were riding for their camp.” He straightened his black vest, and his silver badge caught a speck of candlelight from the table. “But I must admit, I cannot blame the Indians for wanting to protect their women and children from being slaughtered.”
“I can’t either,” Annetta said boldly.
“I agree.” Bethany Stafford bobbed her head.
Beside her, Jake sat back in his chair with a slow, easy move. “Those men were wrong to take the law into their own hands and go gunning for Indians when we’re not even sure they’re responsible for the cattle rustling.”
“Sí. My sentiments exactly, Reverend.” Paden nodded his thanks. “And I can assure all of you that I will do my best to find the culprits.”
“Seems I heard that promise before.” Mr. Winters looked none too impressed.
“And I make it again, Señor. Now, if you will excuse me…”
Stepping around Luke’s and Mrs. Winters’s chairs, the sheriff left the dining room. The heels of his boots echoed in the lobby, and then the front door opened and closed as he left the boardinghouse.
Mr. Winters muttered under his breath, “That no-good sheriff…”
“Seems to me, folks need to set back and let the man do his job.” Reverend Luke forked a bite of food into his mouth and chewed.
Annetta had to smile at his boyishness.
“I met an Indian when I helped Harlan yesterday,” Luke commented.
Annetta sat back in surprise, and her gaze flitted to Bethany. She didn’t appear disturbed by the remark in the least. Annetta wondered if her intended had already told her about the incident—and if he did, it added to the proof in Annetta’s mind that Luke wasn’t marrying the schoolteacher out of obligation.
“He was fierce-lookin’,” Luke continued, “and I gotta admit that I thought he’d surely kill me. But when he found out I was a preacher, he let me live.”
“This happened on Harlan’s land?” Mr. Winters brought his shoulders back.
“Yes, sir.”
“Just proves that those Indians are the culprits. It ain’t too hard to figure out.” Mr. Winters rose quickly from his chair and stormed out of the dining room.
“Ed!” Mrs. Winters stood. “Where are you going?”
“To talk some sense into that sheriff.”
With that he left the boardinghouse.
Luke sat back and shook his head. “I likely said too much. I had only hoped to make the point that there’s a chance we can befriend the Indians.”
“You did fine, Luke.” Next to Annetta, Reverend Jake wiped his mouth with his napkin. His eyes moved to the proprietress. “I hope your husband won’t go off half-cocked, Mrs. Winters. He’s liable to get himself killed.”
Doris Winters’s hand trembled slightly at her throat while she sat back down. “I believe my Ed has enough sense not to do anything foolish.”
“I sure hope so,” Jake said. “There aren’t enough guns in Silverstone to defend this town, should the Indians decide to attack— that is, if we give them good reason to attack.”
Annetta heard the sarcasm in his voice. But then she thought of the scores of wounded men s
he’d have to treat. This town definitely needed a hospital and a second physician.
“What do you suggest, Reverend?” Mrs. Winters paled.
“We watch and pray, asking God to spare our town. It was founded on Christian principles, and it’s His.”
“Why don’t we all bow our heads and pray right now,” Luke suggested. He and Bethany both reached for Mrs. Winters’s hands.
Annetta decided to take her leave, but then Jake’s large hand found hers. He gave her a smile before lowering his head.
A pool of warmth spread up her arm, and Annetta chided herself for feeling anything at all as this reverend began praying. This wasn’t an intimacy.
Then why did she feel like it was?
Annetta shook herself. Well, in any case, she didn’t want any of it—beseeching God or holding hands—none of it!
Worming her way out of Jake’s grasp, she quietly excused herself and left the dining room. She did her best to be quiet, but her skirts still rustled and heels of her leather ankle books clicked on the tile floor as she made her way through the small lobby. Reaching for the door, Annetta opened and stepped out, closing it softly before turning on the boardwalk. She paused to check the dainty gold watch with its mother-of-pearl face pinned to her bodice. Eight o’clock.
Glancing around she saw that darkness had fallen on this dusty town, and the night air felt cool against her face and forearms. Across the street the saloon and brothel lamplight shone from each of the many windows, indicating they were open for business. With cynicism filling her heart, she wondered if the reverends prayed for God to take care of the working girls and their patrons as well as the Indians. She doubted it.
Smiling rather cynically, Annetta turned and walked toward her office. Her quarters were located above it.
“Dr. Cavanaugh. Wait up.”
She turned on her heel to see Jake McCabe limping toward her. She steeled herself as he neared. “I thought I might walk you to your door.”
“No need. I don’t need any protection.” The truth was she’d never had it. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”
An Undaunted Faith Page 9
