“Beggin’ your pardon, Miz Harte,” the cook added with a sympathetic glance, “’cause I knows this has to hurt your very soul to hear these things about your boy. But Miss Eve did nothin’ to provoke those fires or the way he came a-ridin’ in here with killin’ on his mind.”
“You and Olivia are welcome to stay here as long as you like,” Mercy repeated.
“We love having you here,” Michael joined in. “You’ve shared your little girl with us, and you’ve taught our daughters about drawing and painting. Please don’t feel you’ve only taken, because you’ve given us so much more in return.”
Billy felt tongue-tied. It wasn’t his place to invite her to stay on with the Malloys, yet he wanted to encourage her—wondered if his galloping heartbeat forewarned how empty his days would feel, if Eve and Olivia weren’t with him after he buried his brother.
Where had that thought come from?
Though he’d always been head-over-heels for red-haired Olivia—as he had been for Solace, Lily, and Grace when they were born—his heart bottomed out at the thought of not watching Eve tend her—of not peeking at Olivia as she slept so sweetly in her bassinet.
Or was he just aware that if Eve Massena went home, and Emma Clark refused to speak to him, he’d have too many reminders that two young women had left him behind? He’d have a good job and a roof over his head here at the Triple M, but now he’d know what he was missing.
He shouldn’t say anything to Eve now, though, before he was ready. He’d never been the quickest to catch on about women and what they wanted—how they liked to be won over. But he’d never been one to lead them on, either.
“Are you sure your mother’ll take you back?” he asked, mostly for something to say. “Last time you were there, she didn’t seem willing—”
“You were right about Olivia being the key to her grandma’s heart.” Eve smiled at him from across the table, her green eyes shining. “When your mama took us back—with a huge boxful of baby dresses!—Mother and I made amends. It won’t be as nice as staying here—because you won’t be there. But it’s the right thing to do.”
“Yes, Florence finally realized she was only hurting herself by turning you out,” Virgilia joined in. “But I’ll miss having my turn to spoil that little girl!”
Eve sat taller now, managing a smile as she reached up for Olivia. “I appreciate all your reassurances,” she said softly, taking in everyone with her gaze, “but I’m going home. It’s time I took responsibility for my life and my child. Now that Wesley’s gone, I can lay my mistakes to rest. Start fresh.”
“Ever’body needs to do that now and again,” Asa agreed.
“Lord knows I’ve been through that very Valley of the Shadow,” Temple murmured, “and I thank Him every day that these fine people gave me a new life here. You’ll do just fine, Miss Eve. But we’ll miss you two, that’s for sure!”
Something about these goingaway sentiments made his heart hammer. Billy burned to blurt out something romantic to change Eve’s mind—convince her to give them more time together, here where love surrounded them on all sides. In these past few weeks he’d grown used to having her around—
But he had a brother to bury. And a mother who would need his attention—all the love he could muster—even if she talked as if Wesley was her only begotten son. Taking his cue from Michael’s smile, he rose from the table.
“I s’pose we’d better be headin’ to town, and lookin’ for Joel,” he said.
Malloy nodded. “Won’t hurt to check with the neighbors about our horses and cows on the way in—”
“And look for Mr. Lincoln, Daddy! You’ve got to find him!” Solace piped up. She glanced at her mother then, withering at the thought of the switching to come.
Billy grinned at the girl’s outburst. Her chestnut waves were escaping the ribbon she’d hastily tied them back with, and she wore a red calico dress without the lace and frills Lily insisted upon, yet he could see the striking woman she’d someday be. Not to mention the challenge she’d present to any man interested in her.
“He was my horse first, little girl,” he reminded her, tweaking her nose. “Don’t think for a minute I’d forget about him. But right now other things—like findin’ Joel, and Wesley’s funeral—have to come first.”
“I had a dream about Joel last night.”
Temple’s whisper filled the room, piquing everyone’s curiosity. With her hair braided close to her head, her face looked prominent and pretty, as serene as a twilight pool. Her dark eyes dilated as though she were reliving her vision.
“What’d you see?” Asa whispered. He’d stopped scraping plates to lean closer.
“Joel was in a dark place,” she began quietly. She focused on a corner of the ceiling, as though the images were playing out there for her to watch again. “It felt very hot—”
“Did he have a pointy tail and a pitchfork?” Solace whispered, but then Lily glared at her.
And she shushed right up when Temple focused on her, although the teacher showed no irritation at Solace’s remark. She seemed to be speaking from a faraway place inside herself.
“The full moon last night affected us all.” Her tone sounded more academic now, yet still detached—as though some unseen angel might be using her as a mouthpiece. “I believe the moon was partly responsible for Wesley Bristol’s rampage, and for your reaction to him, Miss Solace. Just as I believe the wily, wayward side of that moon spoke to something we haven’t been able to reach inside Joel.”
“Is he all right? What else did you see?” Mercy’s brow was furrowed in concentration. Even Olivia stopped chattering to watch Temple’s face.
“I sensed no danger or fear in him,” she replied, again looking toward the high corner of the dining room. “He stepped out of the darkness this morning. But when a man in black tried to stop him—”
“Was this man human, you think? Or symbolic?” Michael, too, believed in Temple’s visions—or at least respected that they came from a God-given source within her. “Did you see his face?”
“Nooooo,” she murmured. “But I believe he was keeping Joel from trouble—perhaps trying to guide him home—”
“Like an angel?” Lily breathed. “A dark angel—”
“A guardian, yes—but we all know how Joel responds when folks steer him where he doesn’t want to go.”
Blinking, Temple looked at them as though she were back in charge of her thoughts again. “Joel ran from him. But I don’t know where. I think he’ll be a long time in coming back. He’s happy with this choice, knowing we are not.”
“That’s Joel, all right,” Billy murmured. “But it won’t stop us from checkin’ around when we get into—”
“What about Wesley and that full moon?” Mama sat ramrod straight now, her green eyes catlike as she studied Temple Gates from across the table. “Can you contact him? On the Other Side?”
Temple had a way of knowing more than she let on, and her innate sensibilities about his mother made Billy smile. “Mama, if you’re wantin’ to set up a séance, like when you were—”
“I want to know if my son is at rest. If those inner forces that controlled him will torture Wesley—and me—into eternity.” Mama looked vulnerable yet surprisingly steady. “I may have staged a few special effects when I was living in Denver, working as a medium, but I truly believe in the power of the human soul to reach out—to communicate with those who have gone before, and to help them find their peace. So we may be at peace, as well.”
“Amen to that,” Asa murmured as he carried dishes into the kitchen.
“I understand what you’re asking,” Temple replied, reaching a hand toward Mama, “and we’ll look into these mysteries in due time. In God’s time. It’s He who reveals everything, after all, when He feels we’re ready to understand.”
Mama gazed at the slender fingers so close her own. She didn’t clasp that dark hand, but she nodded. “It would be too much right now. We—we all have our appointed tasks, don�
��t we?”
“Are we ready?”
Mercy took Solace’s hand, not because she thought her daughter would bolt, but because these disciplinary occasions were lessons in love—and because she could gauge the feelings in each of her children when she held them.
It pleased her that Solace, so much like Judd Monroe in looks and temperament, trembled a bit but didn’t draw back. She took her punishment and owned up when she’d done wrong—and for this, Mercy was grateful. God—along with Michael and Judd—had given this rough-and-tumble daughter a strong sense of right and wrong, and a lot of love for others.
And then there’s Joel, she mused, her heart clenching as she wondered for the hundredth time where that boy was. And why. She was hoping Solace’s answers might clear some of the painful haze that clouded her heart right now.
“You know why we’re going to the river to cut a switch, don’t you?” she asked calmly.
“Because I shot Wesley Bristol’s horse? With Daddy’s pistol?”
Mercy closed her eyes. This child had always seen several sides to each story—and Solace’s behavior begged to be brought to light, so they could better understand last night’s drama.
“Let’s talk about shooting that horse first,” she clarified. “While you think about your answer, choose your switch from this willow tree.”
It seemed a shame to further burden an already difficult morning, but the shimmer of the sun on the river’s surface calmed her—always set things in perspective, when it came to figuring out where each of them fit into God’s creation.
“Daddy told me to.”
Mercy’s brow furrowed as she cut the slender branch Solace had selected. While she believed Temple Gates had the gift of second sight—and that it was God-given—her children had been known to imitate their teacher’s mystical ways when it suited their purpose.
“How do you mean, your daddy told you to?” she asked carefully. “I can’t believe either of your fathers would condone your—”
“My first daddy,” the girl replied.
When Solace looked up into her eyes, Mercy saw Judd’s love and integrity—his way of facing the most difficult situations head-on. She nipped her lip to keep tears from falling.
“Ever since you gave me his picture,” Solace went on, “I look at his face sometimes, and I ask him about things—like, what would he do about Joel?”
“And what did he say about that?”
The sturdy little girl shrugged. “Didn’t have an answer—but last night? When we heard all that hollerin’ and stampedin’? And I looked out my window to see Mr. Harte climbin’ onto the roof with his rifle?” she went on. “I asked Daddy what I should do.”
Mercy let a tear dribble down her cheek unchecked. How could she deny this child such a source of wisdom: the opportunity to think about things from Judd’s loving perspective?
“And he told you to grab that gun and—”
“He said Billy was in big trouble, because he always fought fair. Anybody could see that man on the big buckskin horse didn’t care about fair!”
“So you went downstairs with that pistol, which belongs to Michael—”
“I had to get it from under Joel’s bed,” she elaborated, “which was when I saw he’d stuck those clothes under his covers. But Billy was in worse trouble than Joel was—so I ran outside.”
Mercy considered this. “And how did you dress in your pants fast enough to get there in time?”
Solace grinned sheepishly. “Joel and I were plannin’ on some target practice later.”
“But he’d already left. So you were alone, facing an angry, armed man you’d never seen.”
“I was a diversionary tactic,” she explained matter-of-factly. “Billy and Daddy have taught us about that. I figured if I distracted that outlaw, it’d give Billy a chance to get out of his way. And since I was a girl, I didn’t figure that big ole bully would shoot me—at least not ’til the element of surprise wore off.”
Mercy gazed at her daughter’s face, seeing nothing but the forthright telling of this tale.
“Did it bother you to pull that trigger?” she asked quietly. “Neither of your daddies believe it’s right to kill.”
“You must never aim a gun unless you intend to shoot it!” she insisted, pointing her finger for emphasis. “And you must only shoot to defend yourself—or somebody else who can’t. Never, never because you’re horsin’ around!”
Solace said these last words with decisive nods of her head and the conviction she’d obviously learned from Michael. Or maybe Billy, which brought up another angle.
“Did Billy know you were taking a pistol out here for target practice?”
“No, ma’am! He nearly tanned my hide for it, too, once we both quit shakin’ last night. Said I was too young to be messin’ with a gun.”
Mercy smiled at this. “But you did. Knowing that your daddy—both your daddies—and I would never allow you to come out here at night. That’s sneaking—acting deceitful—because you knew we’d never give you our permission. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, Mama,” she admitted forlornly. “And we’ve talked about this before. About how I get caught doin’ stuff, and how Lily is so much—”
“Let’s don’t bring your sister into this. She’s another case altogether.”
Solace sighed, blinking back tears. “Mama, you know I wouldn’t shoot a horse—or any animal, or anybody—just because I felt like it. You don’t believe I’m a hardened killer—like—like they say Billy’s brother was. Do you?”
Mercy blinked. Solace wasn’t asking insolent questions, but she was certainly turning things around, taking the role of interrogator. “No, you don’t have that in you, dear,” she admitted. “There was never any doubt about that part.”
“And I don’t guess I’ll be slippin’ out here in the night to practice, now that Joel’s gone and Daddy’s got the gun.”
“Don’t sass me, Solace. It’ll only make things worse when—”
“So can we just get on with this whippin’?” Solace widened those brown eyes—the color of dark chocolate, with the sparkling intensity of Judd Monroe’s when he’d challenged her, chuckling because he loved her so much.
Clearly Mercy needed to devise a different form of punishment for this girl who could turn her inside out just by looking at her. Or, at seven, did Solace already sense her power—the power she’d gotten from her father?
“Lean over. Grab that tree,” Mercy murmured, but it was more from habit than because she wanted to swat her daughter. “This’ll hurt me more than it will you, young lady.”
“Oh, you always say that.”
Before she lost her nerve, Mercy gave Solace’s bare calves a halfhearted flick of the willow switch.
“That’s for slipping out to practice with Michael’s pistol, knowing you weren’t supposed to. And for going along with Joel’s idea to do it. You know he needs you to steer him straight.”
Solace jerked a little, but remained in position. “I may be my brother’s keeper, but there’s just no keeping Joel.”
Mercy stopped with the switch lifted, but then gave Solace another flick across her legs. “And that was for challenging my authority.” Even if you’re usually right, she added silently.
“And this,” she said, grabbing her little girl from behind, “is because I love you, and because both of your daddies would hug you this way, if they ever had the strength to spank you in the first place.”
“Spare the rod and spoil the child?” Solace quipped. “Just like in the Bible, where it says to honor your father and your mother.”
“You are so right, Solace,” Mercy replied, subtly blotting her tears against the girl’s calico dress. “And you are so much my own child. And I’m thankful for that every single day.”
Solace turned, reaching up to hug her neck. The strength in those sturdy, tanned arms stunned Mercy. When had her little girl grown so tall? Her dress pulled at the shoulders, too—and Solace would have no part of
wearing Lily’s delicate, ruffled cast offs.
“Shall we go back now?” Solace murmured. “I’ll act like I’ve been properly whacked, and I’ll do whatever you ask me to, Mama. ’Cause we’re not nearly done with trouble yet, are we?”
Mercy let out a sad laugh, gazing toward the white house now shrouded by Wesley Bristol’s death. “That’s a pretty wise way to look at it, yes.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Billy followed Michael out the kitchen door and across the back porch, already feeling the heat this day would bring. His gaze wandered to the place where Wes’s horse had reared: matted grass and some dried blood brought back sensations that made him suck in his breath.
“You okay, Billy? This part’s harder for you than it is for your mother.”
Malloy’s arm found his shoulder and Billy shook his head to clear his whirling thoughts. “The details I missed when Wes charged at me are all comin’ back now—the hoofbeats, and his threats, and that big ole buckskin screamin’ when it went over backward. . . .”
He blinked the mist from his eyes. “The way my brother’s arm was wrapped in the reins, and his bad leg strapped to the saddle—why, he probably would’ve died anyway, when his horse landed on him.”
“Or he’d wish he were dead, with injuries like that. Which would make things even harder, for all of us—not to imply that any of this is easy.”
“Too bad Carlton had to be the one.” Billy forced himself to keep walking toward the stable. “Mama’ll never completely forgive him, but you’d be buryin’ me if he—and Solace—hadn’t shot when they did. I was so stunned, my mind wasn’t connectin’ to my trigger finger. Might as well not’ve had the gun, the way my shot went wild.”
“I’m not sure how to handle that situation,” Mike admitted with a sigh. “Solace was protecting you—and everyone else. And she hit her mark! But I had no idea she and Joel were slipping out at night to practice with that pistol.”
Angel's Embrace Page 22