by Deb Stover
"She's fine." Sighing, Luke moved away from the men and told the newcomers everything that had happened.
"Shane?" Mrs. Wilson smiled. "You're free now. Praise the Lord."
"Yes'm."
"And Frank Latimer's dead, ma'am," Sam said. "It's all over."
"Then justice has truly been well served. I'm going up to Sofie now." Mrs. Wilson crossed the room, but turned at the base of the staircase to glower at Dora. "Father, I believe my daughter could use a very strong cup of coffee. Or perhaps more than one."
"But Mother, I don't like coffee," Dora whined.
"You do tonight." Mrs. Wilson turned and climbed the stairs.
Dora hiccupped again.
He loves me.
Sofie's heart did a somersault as Dr. Wilson finished bandaging her shoulder. She barely heard his admonitions about staying in bed and sending for him if certain symptoms arose.
All she could think of was that Luke loved her. It couldn't have been her imagination, because she'd been struggling to open her eyes for a while before he kissed her forehead and said, "I love you, Sofie."
He really loves me.
Then she remembered why he couldn't–shouldn't–love her. For a few glorious moments, she'd forgotten about churches and vows and celibacy.
But he can't love me.
"Let me give you some laudanum for the pain," Dr. Wilson said, reaching into his bag of tricks.
"No, please. I'm fine." She really didn't want anything to dull her senses until she'd sorted through everything.
Especially Luke.
"I'll leave some here in case you change your mind."
"Sofie, you had us all so worried," Mrs. Wilson said, drawing Sofie's attention to the other side of the bed. "I'm so relieved this nightmare is over."
"Yes." Sofie swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn't cry in front of them. If she shed a single tear, she knew she'd be dosed with laudanum, despite her protests.
But there was no medicine in the world to ease the pain of her broken heart. Luke loved her, yet they could do nothing about it. He couldn't give her his heart, because the Church owned him.
God owned him.
And who was she to usurp that relationship? "I'm tired now," she said quietly, desperately in need of privacy. "Besides, this is your wedding night."
The bride blushed and Dr. Wilson cleared his throat. "Yes, so it is." He winked at his bride.
"Yes, well..." Mrs. Wilson straightened Sofie's covers for the hundredth time. "Jenny and Shane will be staying here for now," she said. "Until they decide whether or not to return to Texas."
A chaperon, of course. Sofie nodded and let her eyes close, though she was far from asleep. Her ruse worked, and she waited until she heard the door click shut before reopening her eyes.
She listened for the sounds from downstairs. Zeke, Sam Weathers, Ab, Dora, and the Wilsons said their goodnights and departed. The house grew quiet until she heard floorboards creak in the hall as someone paused at her door.
The knob turned slowly and the door opened. Dr. Wilson had left her bedside lamp burning low, and she saw Luke's face framed in the doorway. Her heart swelled with love.
She smiled in invitation and he pushed open the door and walked in with Jenny right behind him. A taller figure loomed behind them, and she remembered Shane.
"We just wanted to check on you before we say goodnight," Jenny said, as they gathered around her bed. "Does it hurt awful bad, Doctor Sofie?"
Sofie shook her head and smiled. "Not too bad."
"Good." Jenny looked up at her brother. "Me and Shane can be together like a family again. Mama'd...like that."
"Yes, and I'm glad," Sofie said. She looked up at Shane. "Will you stay here in Redemption, or go back to Texas?"
He lifted one shoulder quickly and flashed her a boyish grin. "I don't rightly know yet, ma'am. Me'n Jenny'll talk about that tomorrow."
"Grandma and Aunt Mary are in Texas." Jenny looked at her brother.
"I reckon that's something to think about, too." Shane nodded and added, "We'd best turn in now, ma'am. I just wanted to thank you for looking after my sister." He turned to Luke. "Both of you."
Luke patted Shane's shoulder and cleared his throat. "I'm just glad everything's all right now."
The passion in his voice was unmistakable. Just like a priest? Sofie couldn't prevent the jealousy that surged through her. Disgraceful or not, right now she resented Luke's conviction and his faith.
Really sick, Sofie.
Guilt battled emotion, but there was no victor. Maybe if she could remember her upbringing, the life she'd left behind, and whatever path she'd chosen for herself in that life, she'd be better equipped to handle this mess. She was incomplete at best, and though she had a good idea of right and wrong, when it came to more complex issues she was at a loss. Her value system had a black hole in it the size of Colorado.
What kind of woman was she? What kind of woman had her mother and grandmothers been?
"Everybody should remember their mama," Jenny had said.
Yes, everybody should. But in addition to her mother, Sofie needed to remember herself. Desperately. She had to regain her past, to learn who and what she was and had been, to give her the strength and convictions to face truth....
And consequences.
"Goodnight, Miss Doctor Sofie." Jenny leaned over and kissed her cheek.
"I don't know how to ever thank you for all you've done for my sister," Shane said, his tone solemn now. "If you ever need anything, you just ask. Hear?"
Sofie smiled and blinked back her tears, but one of the liquid turncoats slid down her cheek and into her ear. "I love Jenny as if she were my own sister," she whispered. "And I'm glad she has such a fine brother to look after her."
Shane ducked his head and blushed; Jenny beamed up at him. This situation, at least, was as it should be. Sofie took comfort in that, though she was far from content.
She remembered her dream about her father's funeral, and the young boy who'd stood there with her mother, holding Sofie's hand. Her brother. What was his name? Where was he? Had they been close like Jenny and Shane? Was her brother searching for her right now? Wondering what had happened to her...?
Shane and Jenny left the room, leaving Sofie alone with Luke. Considering her injury, they hardly needed a chaperon.
Besides, Luke was a man of God.
Her throat clogged with unshed tears as she looked from the closed door to Luke. He stood silently beside her bed, his shirt partially unbuttoned and the priest's robe and collar gone again. Faded jeans hugged his slim hips and long legs. He stood with one hip cocked, a thumb hooked through his belt loop.
Her gaze traveled up his taut abdomen to the open v of his shirt. Swallowing hard, she followed a vein along the side of his neck to his strong jaw, now covered with a day's growth of beard. His skin had stopped peeling and the redness was gone, leaving behind a man any woman would want. Even his dark hair had grown out enough to curl softly, rather than stand straight up.
Virile. Yes, he was that and so much more. Father Luke Salazar was a man of conviction, a man with principles, and a man off limits to the likes of her...or any woman.
He gave her a crooked smile and reached down to cover her hand with his. "Tired?" he asked quietly, his deep voice rumbling through her.
"A little." Her voice cracked. It was a miracle she didn't drown in her own misery.
"I'd better leave so you can rest," he said, but didn't budge from her side. He squeezed her hand and drew a deep breath. "There's so much I want to say to you, but I know now isn't the time."
Say it, her wanton, selfish side silently pleaded. "I...I'm not sure there will ever be a right time."
His gaze possessed hers with a tenacity that stunned her. "Yes," he said in a fierce whisper, "there will be a time, Sofie. I promise you this."
If only she could say the words, ask the questions left unspoken between them. The air crackled with tension.
And desire.
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No matter what happened now, Sofie knew Luke wanted her the way a man wants a woman. There was nothing priest-like about the way he'd held her, kissed her, touched her that night on the parlor floor. Not even close.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came forth. What could she say? This was the proverbial damned-if-you-do-and-damned-if-you-don't-scenario.
"Dr. Wilson left laudanum." He reached for the bottle on the nightstand. "It might help you sleep."
The ache in her heart made the one in her shoulder seem trivial, and she knew laudanum wouldn't help that. Exhausted, she shook her head and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.
She felt the bed shift slightly beneath his weight as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. The warmth of his breath enveloped her, and the brush of his lips sent a shiver of excitement plundering through her. Too soon–much too soon–he straightened.
Though she knew he waited beside her bed, she willed her eyes to remain closed, her breathing steady. If she gazed into his soft gray eyes again tonight, she'd break. That would do neither of them any good.
Tomorrow, she'd be stronger, and she would ask him to take her to Denver with him. Once there, she would set her weird, beloved hero free at last.
Then, perhaps, she could find her family.
And herself.
Restless, Luke shrugged into the wool coat Mrs. Wilson had given him and went out into the cold night air. The stillness of midnight was magical as he gazed up at the vivid stars.
He drew a deep breath and released it very slowly, watching its steam appear then dissipate in the darkness. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he walked toward the clearing behind the schoolhouse and stood beside a fallen log.
He would miss Redemption–the people, the peace. Remembering the first day, when he and Sofie'd been escorted at gunpoint to the makeshift hospital, Luke smiled. So much had changed since then.
He'd changed.
"Well, it 'pears we always meet up here, Padre." Zeke strolled over to stand beside Luke, then looked up at the stars. "I'm gonna miss this place."
The lanky hillbilly's sudden appearance didn't startle Luke as it had the first time. On the contrary, it seemed quite normal. "You're leaving, too?"
"Yep." Zeke took the cork out of his jug and lifted it to his lips. After a long drink, he offered the jug to Luke.
"No thanks, Zeke." Luke didn't want anything to affect his judgment tonight. He had plans to make. Important plans.
Zeke shoved the cork back into place and sighed. "Had me a long talk with the marshal," he said, bending down to set the jug near his feet. "Some miner jawin' in a saloon 'bout Redemption is what brung Weathers out here huntin' me."
"Ah." Luke had wondered how Sam Weathers knew to find Zeke here.
"So I reckon it'd be best if'n I ain't here to find, in case somebody else comes lookin' for either Zeke or Zach Judson." He chuckled quietly.
"Sam Weathers is quite a piece of work."
"That's a fact."
"So where will you go?"
"Fanny's folks need to be told what happened to her," Zeke said thoughtfully, tucking his hands in his armpits. "They got a spread out in Oregon, so I figgered I'd mosey out there and tell 'em myself."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate hearing about Fanny from you personally," he said quietly. "When will you leave?"
"Spring, I reckon."
Zeke looked up and Luke followed the direction of his gaze. A shooting star arced across the sky, reminding Luke of his grandma's vow to always make wishes at such times. "Make a wish, Zeke," he said, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I already got my wish, Padre."
Luke swallowed the lump in his throat and released a long, slow breath. He wished for serenity, freedom, respectability, a life free of guilt and shame.
But mostly...he wished for love.
Remembering the expression in Sofie's eyes when he'd made his promise, he prayed she would understand and accept his decision to break his alleged vows. She had to. Nothing else mattered without her. Nothing.
"I been wonderin' somethin', Padre."
Zeke's words startled Luke, and he jerked his eyes open and turned to face the other man. "What?"
"Well, no offense intended, hear?"
Curious, Luke chuckled. "I hear. What's on your mind?"
"I reckon you know by now I ain't what you'd call a big city feller like you," he said slowly, seeming to choose his words carefully. "But I be a flesh and blood man all the same, who knows what it's like to have a hankerin'."
"Hankering?"
"For a woman, Padre." Zeke wasn't laughing now. "I never could understand how some folks go all their lives without a poke now and again. Beats tar outta me."
"I, uh..." Far from cold now, Luke tugged open the top button of his heavy coat. "What's your question, Zeke?" His voice sounded strained. Nervous.
Zeke turned to fully face him, his expression solemn in the moonlight. "A body'd have to be blind not to see your hankerin'." The man shrugged, but didn't look away. "I seen the way you git 'round Doctor Sofie, Padre."
"Oh?" Luke broke into a cold sweat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Zeke had proven himself intelligent far beyond the image he presented to the world, and he'd seen through at least part of Luke's facade.
"'Course, this ain't none o' my biz'ness...."
Luke didn't–couldn't–say anything. All he could do was stand there in the freezing cold and hear what the man had to say. How much did Zeke know? What had he figured out about the fictitious Father Salazar? About Luke? Besides that I'm a horny bastard?
"But I cain't help wonderin' how you stand it, Padre." Zeke chuckled again and shook his head slowly. "If'n I was you, I'd be harder'n a year-old hotcake all the durned time."
A hotcake sizzling on the griddle summed things up pretty well. "It isn't easy," Luke said, trying not to think about how long he still had to wait before he could make love to Sofie. Of course, if she decided she didn't want him after all...
"Like I said 'afore," Zeke continued, "I seen the way you look at Miss Sofie, an' doggone it if she don't make moon eyes at you, too."
I sure as hell hope so. Luke drew another fortifying breath and released it in a loud whoosh. "Zeke, I can't answer for anyone but myself," and all I can do on that score is lie, lie, lie, "but the, uh, cravings of the flesh are pretty powerful stuff. Temptation is everywhere."
"Ain't that the truth?" Zeke chuckled again and looked toward town. "I reckon the doc is givin' in to temptation 'bout now. Looked to me like old Ab was sniffin' 'round after Miss Dora, too."
Luke cleared his throat loudly–his only defense against uncontrolled laughter. After a moment, he rescued his dignity from his sense of humor and said, "I, uh, warned Ab about that already."
Zeke threw his head back and roared. "Well, I'll be seein' you, Padre," he said, reeling in his laughter. "Get some shut-eye."
"You, too."
Luke walked slowly back through town, hoping no one had been out visiting their outhouse and overheard Zeke's pointed questions and observations. Man, Luke was even starting to act like a priest. He had to get out of this mess fast, and for more reasons than one.
Soon. The minute Roman said Sofie was able to travel... Once they were away from Redemption, Luke would shed his sheep's clothing. His blood warmed at the thought of shedding clothing, baring skin, and touching Sofie.
He looked around once more, then threw his head back and howled.
Chapter 16
Sofie eased her healing shoulder into her dress and closed the buttons. Dr. Wilson hadn't wanted her to get out of bed yet, but it had been almost a week and she had plans to make about her future. More determined than ever to regain her memory and her life, she tied a scarf on as a sling and made her way downstairs.
At the base of the stairs, she paused to look toward the hearth, where a low fire now burned. The dark stains on the carpet made her shudder, until she looked beyond that to the area where she'd lain on the f
loor in Luke's arms.
Her face warmed as memory filled in every delicious detail. She closed her eyes, savoring the flood of love and longing that pervaded her.
After a few moments, she opened her eyes and jerked herself back to the present. There was nothing wrong with certain parts of her memory. A pity she couldn't fill in all the other missing details of her life. With a sigh, she banished the stimulating thoughts of Luke's kisses and caresses and headed for the kitchen.
"Miss Dr. Sofie!" Jenny hugged her. "I was fixing a tray to bring up to your room. You shouldn't be out of bed yet. Dr. Wilson said–"
"I feel fine. Just a little weak from being in bed too long." Sofie stroked Jenny's neatly braided hair and smiled down at her. "I'm so happy for you. For you and Shane both." She looked at Jenny's brother, as he bolted from his chair, abandoning a plate of ham and eggs. "I swear, the men in Redemption are too polite for their own good. Sit and eat, Shane."
Grinning, the young man returned to a breakfast large enough for three grown men. Of course, he was nearly as big as three men, Sofie decided, remembering how he'd looked the night he came to their rescue wearing that diaper-like get-up. He'd looked like a pro wrestler.
In fact, Shane Latimer could easily give any Hollywood hunk a run for his money. Trivia Queen strikes again. Thank goodness he'd live to break a few hearts.
"Dr. Wilson will be mad," Jenny said, shaking her head as she went to the stove. "I think he's coming back with Father Salazar to check on you."
Sofie smoothed non-existent wrinkles from her skirt and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Father Salazar isn't here?" she asked casually. Too casually.
"Doc Wilson sent for him early this morning," Shane said between shovelfuls. "Some fella named Mr. Smith wanted to see him."
"Maybe he's Catholic," she thought aloud. "Mr. Smith is one of Dr. Wilson's patients."
"You hungry, Miss Dr. Sofie?" Jenny asked, bending to take a pan of biscuits from the oven. With a huge hot pad, she carried it to the table. "I found some honey in the pantry. I like biscuits with honey even better than with gravy."
"Unless that's redeye gravy." Shane plucked a biscuit from the pan, earning a slap on the forearm from his sister. With a sheepish grin, he grabbed a second biscuit.