An unexpected, unwanted thread of admiration for Evangeline wove through him. She’d stood up to him like a mama bear defending her cubs. Because of his size and profession, not many people in Esperanza would have likewise faced him. But then, she’d known him in his softer days, back when life was filled with hope and promise. She probably thought she could wind him around her little finger as she had back then. Too bad she’d chosen to marry another man. Despite admiring her courage, he’d never let her bend him to her will again.
As for Gerard, well, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He was turning out to be every inch his crooked father’s son. As Justice feared, the boy had already fallen in with those troublemakers Deely and Cart. Justice had warned all three boys they’d face dire consequences if they disrupted the class again or destroyed any more property.
After leaving the school, he’d considered visiting Reverend Thomas for advice on how to deal with the boys. But the minister was a bit too perceptive. He might ask questions about Evangeline that Justice wouldn’t want to answer. The only way to get past the hurt of her reappearance in his life was to keep all the pain inside.
As always when he approached his house, satisfaction flooded his chest...until unbidden dreams of coming home to Evangeline resurfaced from his youth. Perhaps it would be nice to have a beautiful, loving wife waiting for him at the end of the day. No. He must dismiss all such disturbing thoughts. He’d never let her hurt him again, not her nor any other woman. With what self-control he could muster, he banished the vision and focused again on the house.
The east-facing, two-story structure boasted a covered porch that crossed the front and wrapped around to the south side. The architect had talked Justice into much more house than he’d ever need, saying it must match the other fine houses on the street. He’d been comfortable enough living in the two rooms over the jail this past year, so he didn’t feel the need for more living space. However, for his neighbors’ sakes, he’d agreed. With his mine up near Creede continuing to produce, he could certainly afford it. Besides, now used to the idea, he liked the house more each day.
The builders had laid the foundation early last spring and recently finished the red brick exterior. Now they perched on the roof nailing shingles in place. Justice climbed the three steps to the front porch and entered the portal where the door would soon hang. The interior showed progress as well. Rising from the center of the wide entryway to the second story, the curved staircase would soon have mahogany bannisters and turned spindles. Finished oak floors awaited polishing. Walls were framed in, and in most rooms, lath strips were nailed in place, ready for plastering. Justice still hadn’t decided whether to have the walls painted or papered.
What would Evangeline like?
Not that he should care. In fact, he needed to stop these annoying thoughts. After she’d been in town for a while, he’d get used to her presence and his hard-won self-control would return.
Except he had to work in the library’s back room every afternoon, where he’d hear her musical voice as she spoke to patrons, smell her expensive gardenia perfume filling the air around her, see her still breathtakingly beautiful face...and dream of what might have been.
Tumbleweed! The mild interjection Jubal taught him came to mind. He must not let these maudlin thoughts about Evangeline take root. Dreams never got a man anyplace. Action did. If she and her troublesome son were going to live in this community, Justice could either move someplace else or learn to deal with them.
He remembered she was skilled at drawing and painting, so she’d be a big help with his Christmas village. While he could create the tiny buildings, he didn’t have as much confidence in his ability to paint them with a steady hand. The attention to detail had attracted him to the displays in Europe, and the children of Esperanza deserved no less than the finest village Justice could put together.
Only thing to do was swallow his pride and ask if she still wanted to help. Or was willing to help. Or—
“Anything need changin’, boss?” The building foreman interrupted Justice’s thoughts.
“Nope. Everything’s looking mighty fine, Joe. Keep up the good work.”
He left the men to their labors and headed back to the center of town. His deputy now tended the office, so he headed toward the library. Contrary to what he’d told Joe, something did need changing: his attitude toward Evangeline and her children. And he needed to start right now.
* * *
After some consideration, Evangeline decided not to remove Gerard from school. No matter what the other boys had influenced him to do, he must accept his punishment. He must learn to be a leader, not a follower. As for poor Miss Prinn and her ruined shirtwaist, Evangeline must begin work on a new one this evening.
And she would visit the school and take a book to read to the class while Miss Prinn ate her dinner. She’d read Treasure Island to them, perhaps organize a treasure hunt. No, Long John Silver’s antics might inspire pirate-like misdeeds. She sighed. Best to stick with Hans Brinker.
All such thoughts ceased when Justice entered the library, this time with a considerably less hostile posture than before. He even removed his hat and hung it on the hat stand. Still, she stiffened, wondering whether he would continue his criticism of Gerard.
“Afternoon, Evangeline.” He ambled past her desk, pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to the back room.
Afternoon, Evangeline? So casually spoken as though they hadn’t parted a mere hour ago with a decidedly hostile air hanging between them? Well, two could play that game.
“Good afternoon, Justice.” She kept her tone only a degree above frosty as she focused on the list on her desk, determined not to give him any further attention. After all, she had work to do. She must make a list of all the books entrusted to her care, along with the authors’ names, publishing information and brief descriptions of the contents. Marybeth Northam offered to borrow the typewriting machine at the bank where she used to work, and make a neat reference card for each book. She would also make cards for borrowers to sign when they wanted to take a book home.
“Got a minute?” Justice leaned against the doorjamb. Although he wasn’t smiling, his expression appeared almost friendly.
Evangeline’s heart skipped. Why did he have to be so handsome? She tamped down her emotions and embraced the austere persona of her boarding school headmistress. “Of course.” She rested her pen on the inkwell and followed him into the storage room, leaving the door open for propriety’s sake.
At the back of the deep, narrow room, the solid exterior door was bolted from within. Small windows high on the north and south walls provided a minimum of light. Justice lit a kerosene lamp, which provided enough additional illumination for the work to be done.
As she had when she saw the tiny carvings earlier, Evangeline marveled at the detail Justice included. The houses, businesses and church weren’t solid blocks. Each roofed structure had four individual walls and a hinged door. Carved lines on the exterior gave the appearance of unpainted clapboard siding. For the church, tiny colored glass squares gave the illusion of stained glass windows like those in the cathedral back home.
“I can take the windows out if it will make it easier for you to paint.” In spite of his words, Justice’s eyes held a question, as though he wasn’t sure she still intended to help.
“Please do.” She gently lifted an evergreen tree. “Oh, my. I can see the pine needles. Carving such fine detail must be challenging. It looks exactly like a tree.”
His expression lightened with a hint of boyish pride in his work. “Needs a coat of paint.”
“Yes.” She mustn’t keep him wondering about her helping. “The paints?”
He gave her an almost-smile and indicated a shelf against the wall, where paints and brushes stood ready for use. “There’s everything you need.”
“Ah.” She perused the assembled supplies. “You really did get everything.”
“You can thank Susanna for that.” He settled on a stool beside the workbench, picked up a carving knife and a piece of wood and began to cut.
“Was the village Susanna’s idea?”
Now bent over his work, he shrugged. “It was a group plan.” The hint of red coloring his ears betrayed him.
“It was your idea.”
He shrugged again, this time adding a little smile as though pleased she’d uncovered the truth.
“How clever, Justice. And so thoughtful to do something like this for the children.” Especially since you have none of your own. The thought made her heart ache. Despite her wretched marriage, the Lord had blessed her with two precious children.
“It’s not something I came up with on my own.” He cleared his throat. “I saw villages like this one in Germany the Christmas I spent in Europe.” A frown replaced his smile, and he hunched over the bench as though finished with the conversation.
She longed to touch his shoulder, to give it a reassuring squeeze as she did Gerard’s or Isabelle’s when they needed encouragement. But this was no child, however boyish his eagerness to please the children of Esperanza. This was the man who could arrest her and send her back to her debtors if she couldn’t convince him she intended to pay back her actual debts, if she couldn’t prove at least some of those debts were not her responsibility. Instead of reaching out to him, she sorted through the painting supplies and planned which colors to use on each figure. Her decision made, she addressed Justice’s hunched back.
“I should get back to my own work. Once the library is organized, I’ll begin painting.”
After a long pause, he said, “Yep.”
First hot, then cold. Oh, how she ached to know what this once familiar, but now mysterious man was thinking. Yet if she drew him out to confide in her, he might turn the tables and persuade her to tell her own secrets. Which could only lead to her destruction.
* * *
Once Evangeline left the room, Justice set down his carving tool and flexed his hands to stop their shaking. It wouldn’t do to ruin this prime piece of apple wood from the stock he’d ordered from a company back East.
What was wrong with him? He’d often faced outlaws with a steady hand on his gun and a stern expression on his face. Even the admirable Northam brothers praised his cool head in dealing with troublemakers. And yet Evangeline’s presence sent him into spasms of uncertainty.
He hadn’t meant to bring up his trip to Europe. The tour itself had indeed been grand, but coming home to family tragedies had put an end to both his happiness and his youthful innocence. Although bitterness over his losses diminished over the years, he rarely mentioned his Grand Tour to anyone. Last spring, when Susanna had noticed his carving skill, he’d told her about the toy villages he’d seen in Germany, and between the two of them, they’d come up with the idea for the Christmas village. Other than her, only Evangeline knew about it, and she was the last person he’d ever discuss it with, because then they’d have to discuss what happened when he returned. And yet, in her presence, he felt vulnerable, and even his sternest admonitions to himself produced no defenses for his heart.
Now he must work side by side with her on this project. While his unforgetting mind kept returning to the pain she’d caused him, his traitorous heart felt a curious sort of well-being he refused to examine. One thing was sure. The war raging within him chased away all peace.
Yes, he needed help to finish the village before Christmas. But why couldn’t Susanna have enlisted someone else to assist him?
Chapter Five
On Tuesday, without telling anyone her plan, Evangeline ate her sandwich early and then walked to the school with Hans Brinker in hand. She arrived at the white clapboard building with her thoughts wavering between confidence in her new project and concern over whether Miss Prinn would reject her idea out of hand. She reached for the schoolhouse door only to have it open inward with a whoosh and reveal an unexpected sight. Justice stood there, his imposing presence seeming even taller because of the threshold’s three-inch elevation.
“Justice!” With a gasp, she stepped back, and her foot slipped down to the lower tread, throwing her off balance. “Eeep!” She grasped for a nonexistent bannister, one hand grabbing air, the other clutching the book as if it could save her.
“Whoa.” He clasped her flailing hand and pulled her up, rescuing her from a painful tumble. He then gripped her upper arms to steady her. “Are you all right?” Concern filled those probing gray eyes, making him more like the young man she once knew than a threatening lawman.
Shivers running down her arms and pulse racing, she struggled to breathe normally, but instead gasped in air. Heat rushed from her neck up to her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Altitude still bothering you?” His sympathetic look and question offered an excuse for her lack of breath. She didn’t have to tell him it was really her reaction to him.
She nodded. “No doubt.”
He glanced at the book. “Planning to learn how to ice skate?”
Still struggling to calm down, she emitted a girlish giggle. “Not at all. I’d be as graceful at skating as I was just now.” Wanting to prolong this moment of camaraderie, she gave him a little smirk. “Living in this cold climate, I suppose you skate?”
“More or less.” He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound, and her pulse raced again. “I’ve been working on it for a few years. The Wakefields flood an area behind the hotel and freeze it. Come December, the rink’s a favorite gathering place for the community. Everyone’s welcome.”
“How lovely. I know Gerard and Isabelle will enjoy learning to skate.”
At the mention of her son’s name, Justice’s “sheriff face,” as she’d come to think of it, returned. Evangeline’s heart fell to her stomach.
“I looked in on Miss Prinn’s class,” he said. “So far today, Gerard and his friends have put a snake down another boy’s shirt and blown spit wads at the other students...and their teacher.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s worth another week of detention. Miss Prinn says their disruptions are making it hard for the serious students to learn. If they don’t settle down, we’re looking at suspension.” His stare bored into her accusingly. Or so it seemed.
Sighing, Evangeline looked away. “I’m sure if Miss Prinn could get to know Gerard, she’d see he does want to learn.” She held up her book. “I thought I’d offer to read to the class while she eats her dinner.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. After a moment, he uncrossed his arms and lowered his hands. “You do that.” He proceeded down the schoolhouse’s four steps, then turned back. “I’ll be at the library around one o’clock.”
“Yes.” She hurried inside the schoolhouse, where she took a minute to reorder her emotions. Those few precious moments of polite conversation felt so good, only to be shattered by harsh reality.
Why couldn’t Justice give Gerard the opportunity to prove himself? Was it because of his close resemblance to Lucius? Her son couldn’t help inheriting his father’s face. In truth, Lucius had been quite handsome in his day, although by the time they married, his dissolute lifestyle had diminished his aristocratic appearance. But Justice wasn’t being fair to punish the son because he resembled his father.
She could well imagine he thought ill of Lucius. Her husband had made many enemies over the years, but she knew few specifics. Neither Papa nor Lucius had ever said much to her about their business partnership. She only knew Justice’s father had also been a partner and Mr. Gareau’s personal finances had failed shortly before he died. Then Papa and Lucius had worked together to save the business Mr. Gareau damaged. Although it seemed unlike the godly man she’d known all her life, Evangeline often wondered whether Justice’s father had embezzled money from the
other two. Lucius had certainly never said anything good about him.
Her thoughts stalled. Were her memories correct? Or had Lucius poisoned her thinking? Since he was dead and Papa had died six years ago, perhaps she’d never know the truth about Mr. Gareau or Lucius. But Justice had no cause to blame Gerard for anything her husband might have done.
She shook herself. Standing in this hallway ruminating on the past wouldn’t help her son. She walked to the classroom and peered through the window in the door. Gerard was seated with his hands folded politely on his desk, his full attention on Miss Prinn, who was writing on the blackboard. Two tiny white balls of paper clung to the bun at the back of her head. The boy next to Gerard nudged him, and with a mischievous look they both threw more wads of paper at their teacher.
Not bothering to knock, Evangeline opened the door, her eyes on her son’s. Gerard dropped his hand and slumped in his seat, returning a scowl.
“Good morning, Miss Prinn. I do hope you’ll excuse me, but may I speak to you for a moment?”
The startled lady recovered quickly and addressed her students. “Write your answers to these arithmetic problems on your slates. Be sure to show your work.” She joined Evangeline in the hallway. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Benoit?” Her disapproving frown proclaimed her displeasure over the interruption.
“I thought perhaps I could read to the children while they eat dinner.” She held up her book. “Then you could have a few minutes to yourself.”
Cowboy Lawman's Christmas Reunion Page 7