by Deb Stover
Help Sofie? In his heart, Luke wanted only the best for her, but as long as she was stranded in this time, maybe not remembering was the most merciful thing. And he knew it was best for him, but he tried not to dwell on that.
"Maybe Smith will be able to write his real name for me soon, so I can send word to his family." Dr. Wilson moved toward the adjoining room.
Luke couldn't help remembering the maniacal look on Smith's face last night. It made no sense. It must have been a fluke, or a reaction to the drugs.
"That man had murder in his eyes...make no mistake," Marshal Weathers had said.
"I guess I'll see you tonight then." Roman paused and exhaled in a loud whoosh. "If I live that long."
Luke chuckled, though he felt more like crying. "You'll do fine," he said quietly. "I'd better go back to the parsonage and practice this wedding stuff."
Dr. Wilson gave a nervous laugh and pushed open the door. "Thanks." He slipped through the doorway.
Luke stared at the door for several moments, gathering his resolve. By God, this would be his final act as a priest. Enough was enough.
"Go with God, my son," the real Father Salazar had said.
Luke was certain joining unsuspecting people in less-than-holy matrimony wasn't quite what the old man had intended.
Sofie spent the rest of the day in the kitchen with Jenny. At ten, the little girl knew how to cook everything, including sourdough biscuits.
When Sofie'd first looked into the crock containing Mrs. Fleming's "starter," she'd almost dumped the mess out the back door. Gross was the only word to describe the fermented, bubbling stuff. However, Jenny assured her it was supposed to look and smell rotten.
Besides, learning to cook helped keep Sofie's mind off Luke, and gave her another opportunity to gain Jenny's trust. She hoped the child would confess the name of her father's killer soon. Their isolation for Jenny's protection had just begun, and already they had to miss a wedding.
"Where's Father Salazar?" Jenny asked late in the afternoon. The child stood at the table, stirring flour into cake batter. "I haven't seen him since this morning."
Thank goodness. Sofie's hormones needed the reprieve. "He's practicing the wedding ceremony."
"I wish we could go."
"Well, we can't." Sofie sighed dramatically, but didn't remind Jenny why they couldn't go to the wedding. That was far from necessary.
Jenny made a face but kept stirring. After a while, she poured the batter into pans and slid them into the oven. "We'll make frosting after these come out," she said. "They have to cool first anyway."
Sofie stuck her finger in the bowl and tasted the remaining batter. "Mmm, you're pretty good at this, kid."
With flour on the tip of her nose, Jenny smiled, then her expression grew solemn. "My mama taught me."
Sofie gave Jenny a hug. "I know, and you'll always have the things she taught you. Nobody can ever take those from you." Unless you get amnesia, like me.
"But you don't remember."
Sofie shook her head and sighed. "Nothing before the day I came here." But that wasn't exactly true. She had begun to recall disjointed fragments of her past. Maybe someday there'd be enough scraps to piece into something as substantial as a lifetime. She could only hope.
"Can't Father Salazar help you remember stuff?"
Sofie shook her head and bit the inside of her cheek to silence what she really wanted to say. How could she continue to want him sexually, knowing he might very well be withholding information about her past? Maybe if she kept reminding herself of that fact, she'd have better luck managing her libido.
But his lips. His hands. She swallowed hard.
A knock at the back door jerked Sofie's thoughts into a safer zone. "Saved by the bell," she said, earning a curious frown from her cooking instructor. She peeked through the curtain first, then opened the door for Dr. Wilson.
Removing his hat, he sniffed the air appreciatively, while Sofie closed and bolted the door behind him. "Mmm, something smells wonderful in here."
"Wedding cake," Jenny announced with a grin.
Dr. Wilson blushed a bright shade of crimson against his white hair. "That's nice of you, Miss Jenny. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Jenny sighed dramatically. "I wish I could go."
"I wish you could, too." Dr. Wilson turned to Sofie. "I tried the front door first, but no one answered."
"Someone is practicing the wedding ceremony."
Dr. Wilson's blush deepened, and he cleared his throat. "Do you have a few minutes?"
Sofie nodded and offered the doctor a chair at the table. She should probably have taken him to the other room, where they'd be more comfortable, but she didn't want to interrupt or face Luke just yet. This would do.
"I mentioned this to Luke this morning, but I thought maybe I should discuss it with you, too, while it's on my mind."
What could Dr. Wilson possibly have to discuss with both Luke and Sofie? Taking a chair at the table, she folded her hands in her lap and said, "I'm listening."
Jenny went to the pantry to search for something, and Dr. Wilson leaned toward Sofie. "I know a doctor in Denver who specializes in head injuries, especially involving amnesia," he said quietly, pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket. "Here's a letter of introduction. If anyone can help you, Sofie, it's George Bowen."
Sofie stared at the white envelope bearing Dr. Bowen's name and address in Dr. Wilson's sprawling script. "Denver?" Hesitantly, she took the envelope, then met Dr. Wilson's gaze. "But how will I get to Denver?" There were no trains or planes, or even cars in Redemption. And she certainly didn't know how to ride a horse. Did she? "Of course, I can't go anywhere until after Jenny..."
"No, of course not, and we're very thankful for that." Dr. Wilson glanced toward the pantry, then back at Sofie, his expression sincere and eager. "You're a fine woman and a wonderful doctor. Regaining your memory is important to you and to those you might help with your skills."
Tears scalded her eyes as she met his gaze. "Thank you." She sniffled and dabbed at her tears, then asked, "Are you planning a trip to Denver?" She couldn't very well take off across the mountains alone.
"No, but Luke told me this morning that he was headed there before you two ended up here."
Before the explosion. If only she could remember more about how and why she and Luke were in that cave when it exploded. She knew there was an important clue there somewhere.
Then Sofie realized exactly what Dr. Wilson had meant. He expected her to leave Redemption with Luke. "Why would Father Salazar want to be burdened with me when he leaves for Denver?" Would he truly leave her? A heaviness descended over her entire body at the thought of never seeing Luke again. Then again, no matter how much it hurt, she knew it would probably be for the best.
"Well, that's for the two of you to discuss, but I believe he wants to go before winter really sets in." Dr. Wilson pulled out his watch and popped open the cover, then snapped it closed again. "I'd better go shave and put on my good suit before the meeting."
Sofie forced a smile and rose with Dr. Wilson, trying not to look at the envelope or think about Luke. "So the wedding will be after the town meeting?"
"Yes, and I'm not a bit nervous," he said, winking. "Actually, don't tell anybody, but I'm terrified."
Sofie laughed and walked him to the door. After he'd gone, she re-bolted the door and sighed. She would miss the people here in Redemption.
But that made it seem like she really was planning to leave. She sat at the table again and exhaustion seeped through her, making her feel twice her age–not that she actually knew her age.
Jenny approached the table slowly. When Sofie looked up at the little girl, she saw a worried expression in her dark eyes.
"What is it, Jenny?" She took the child's hand. "Are you all right?"
Jenny nodded. "Are you leaving?" Her lower lip trembled, and a tear trickled down her cheek.
"I...I'm not sure, Jenny." And that was the truth. "Dr. Wi
lson thinks I should see this doctor in Denver who might be able to help me remember."
Jenny nodded and her tears ceased. "That's good. Everybody should remember their ma...mama."
"Yes." Sofie squeezed Jenny's hand and smiled, though she felt more like crying. "And you cherish your memories, sweetie. They're so precious."
Jenny nodded and sat in the chair closest to Sofie. "After I tell...who..."
Sofie held her breath, waiting for Jenny to finish her statement.
"After that," the child continued, "I'll get to live with Shane?"
"Yes." Sofie knew Sam Weathers was hiding Jenny's brother somewhere safe, and that there should be more than enough evidence to prevent the boy's execution. Thank God. "Yes, you will."
Jenny appeared thoughtful, and sat in silence for several moments, resting her chin in her hand. Finally, she lifted her face and looked pointedly at Sofie. "I want you to go...go see that doctor in Denver."
"Yes, I suppose I should." Sofie waited, hoping Jenny would say more, but also knowing she shouldn't push too hard. At least now she believed Jenny would eventually tell the killer's name, because then the little girl could be with her brother.
"Maybe that doctor can help you remember your mama." Jenny sighed, then squeezed Sofie's hand.
Well, that settled it. Sofie would definitely go to Denver once Jenny was safe.
The pain slashed through her again, and she identified it at last. Sadness and loss. Yes, she'd be leaving Redemption, the only home she could remember.
Sorrow poured over her at the thought of leaving, but she knew the town and its citizens weren't all she would miss. Luke. He was her rescuer, her friend, and her weird hero. She smiled sadly. But friendship wasn't all she wanted with him, and that was why she had to move forward with her life. She blinked back her tears, vowing to see the doctor in Denver, no matter what.
With or without the man she loved.
The population of Redemption must have tripled for the town meeting and the added bonus of a wedding. About half the people squeezed into the church looked like miners, and a small cluster of women garbed in garish clothing occupied one pew near the front. Luke suspected they were the infamous "Miss Lottie's girls" he'd heard mentioned.
He stood at the back of the small church with Sam Weathers, listening to the citizens offer their thanks to Dr. Wilson, Mrs. Fleming, and the others who'd nursed the epidemic's victims. Then Dr. Wilson the mayor took the podium and thanked Father Salazar and the absent Dr. Sofie, announcing the donation of a bag of gold for them both for their tireless service.
Luke could use the money for his fresh start, but he sure hoped there was a bag of gold somewhere with Dr. Wilson's name on it, too. The man had earned a thousand bags of gold by now.
Roman reiterated what his bride-to-be had said more than once about the two newcomers having been sent by God.
Of course, Luke knew how false that was. He'd come to Redemption straight from hell's clutches. And as a fake priest, he could hardly be considered a servant of God. Maybe Sofie, though...
The thought of her sequestered next door with Jenny made his throat tighten. He couldn't get her off his mind or out of his heart, no matter how he tried. Even keeping busy trying to learn the wedding ceremony he would perform tonight hadn't helped much.
Sofie filled his thoughts, triggered his libido, and broke his heart with no effort whatsoever. She was a goddess, a temptress, and a tormentor, in one foxy little bundle.
The townspeople unanimously elected Ab Johnson as their new sheriff. Luke smelled a plant but, in this case, manipulating politics was probably a good thing. Between Ab and Marshal Weathers, they might save Zeke as well as Shane.
"Pay close attention here," Sam whispered. "Unless I miss my guess, all hell's gonna break loose after tonight."
Uh-oh. Luke turned his attention to the podium again, where the mayor swore in the new sheriff. After Ab was officially made Sheriff of Redemption, he faced the townspeople with a solemn expression.
"My first job as your new sheriff is to let y'all know we got us a witness to Charlie Latimer's murder."
A low buzz rippled through the crowd, and Luke realized this was all part of Sam's plan to make the real killer nervous. "Very clever," he whispered, peeking at the marshal.
But Sam Weathers was otherwise occupied, his narrowed gaze sweeping the crowd with an inborn savvy that impressed the hell out of Luke. The lawman obviously knew what, if not who, he was looking for.
Luke just hoped Sam found the killer before the killer found Jenny.
"The witness proves Shane Latimer didn't kill his pa," Ab continued. "So we ain't gonna be hangin' that boy, and that's that."
Gasps, applause and cheers erupted from the crowd, and suddenly Luke knew what Sam Weathers was looking for. Someone would be very unhappy about this news.
The real killer.
A movement near the door drew Luke's attention. Shoving his way through the crowd, Frank Latimer looked over his shoulder with an ominous scowl.
"You know that fella," Sam asked, his voice low.
"I know who he is." Luke swallowed hard when Latimer's penetrating gaze fell on him. The man's scowl deepened, then he put on his hat and left. "His name's Frank...Latimer."
Sam jerked his attention from the door and pinned Luke with a look that meant business. "Another Latimer?"
Luke nodded. "Shane and Jenny's uncle."
"Well, well." Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You'd think the man'd be happier than a hog in a mud hole about his nephew's neck bein' saved."
A chill raced through Luke as he recalled Shane's reaction to his uncle that day at the jail. "Yeah, you'd think."
"Imagine that."
"Where do you suppose he's headed?"
Sam gave Luke a knowing smile. "The jail." The lawman slapped his Stetson against his thigh. "I'll be back shortly."
Luke tapped the marshal's shoulder. "What about Jenny and Sofie? Will they be safe?"
Sam nodded. "I reckon." He looked beyond Luke, at something it seemed only he could see. After a moment, he patted one of the pistols at his hips. "And I intend to make damn sure they stay that way."
Sam Weathers was one of those men of Western legend. A man of honor, who saw no compromise between right and wrong, and who possessed an uncanny instinct about human nature.
And I sure as hell hope he can't see through me.
"I'll try to get back before the weddin'." Towering over the crowd, Marshal Weathers maneuvered his way through the mass of humanity and out the same door Frank Latimer had used.
Envy and admiration flashed through Luke as he watched the lawman slip through the door and disappear into the night. Sam Weathers had hero written all over him. No wonder Sofie had thought of John Wayne when she first met him.
"Wow," Luke whispered, returning his attention to the podium.
Mayor Wilson banged the gavel on the wood until the crowd quieted and he had their attention. "I think most of us are in agreement about the Latimer boy, so let's move on."
For a little while, Luke had almost forgotten about the fraud he had to perform this evening. His throat tightened and he clutched Father Salazar's Bible in his hands. Sweat burst from his pores and his mouth went dry.
He didn't want to do this.
"I imagine most of you have heard about the, uh, ceremony we're going to have here tonight."
The crowd roared.
Luke's lips went numb.
"This is sort of informal," Roman continued, "but after what we've all been through these last weeks..."
"Get on with the weddin', Doc," someone shouted from the heart of the gathering. A chuckle followed, along with several more shouts of encouragement.
"All right, all right." Redness crept up from the groom-to-be's starched collar until it reached his hairline. "Father Salazar?"
The only time in Luke's life when he'd been more terrified was the morning of his scheduled execution. Breathing became increasingly diffi
cult as faces turned toward him.
Expectantly.
As Grandpa would have said, he'd made his bed, so go lie in it. Slowly, Luke headed toward the podium, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea.
Get a grip, Nolan.
Someone had made a wreath of pine cones and autumn leaves, which miraculously appeared on the front of the podium. Several additional candles were lit, and by the time Luke reached the front of the church, the place looked ready for a wedding.
A lot more ready than he was.
He was doing the right thing. These people belonged together, and they would accept the marriage as genuine. That was all that mattered. He had to remain focused on that fact. Otherwise, he would fail.
Another promise broken? More guilt?
No way.
He took his place facing the congregation, with the groom to his left. The parting in the Red Sea widened even more, and organ music filled the building. Luke shot a glance toward the far wall, stunned to see one of Miss Lottie's "girls" playing the church organ. But he didn't have time for a chuckle, because Dora Fleming started toward him, sans bouquet.
After Dora took her place to Luke's right, the music grew louder and Mrs. Fleming started toward them. She looked years younger in a light blue dress, her white hair pulled into its usual bun, but with a few tight curls framing her face. Her eyes shone with happiness when she looked at her groom.
Yes, Luke was doing the right thing–the only thing.
The music faded as the bride took her place and slipped her hand into the groom's.
Luke cleared his throat, ignoring the funeral dirge playing through his veins, much like the morning of his failed execution. He cleared his throat again and drew a deep, fortifying breath.
"Dearly beloved..."
Chapter 14
Following orders to stay inside with the doors bolted, Sofie listened with a heavy heart to the cheers and applause from the church next door. Though she was thrilled for Dr. Wilson and Mrs. Fleming–Mrs. Wilson, now–she longed to join the celebration. She knew Jenny did, too.