A Lady for Luke

by Donna K. Weaver

  It didn’t matter that it was even colder outside with twilight approaching. Luke needed a walk.

  Judith scurried around the room answering questions and taking care of minor emergencies, aware of the growing number of curious glances. What must Luke’s declaration have looked like to everyone? She cringed every time his words came to her mind, which was often. It was the most embarrassing—and charming—thing a man had ever done for her.

  Luke had said he loved her. He wanted to marry her. She mustn’t let it distract her. Judith pulled out her list. She must keep busy.

  The sheriff and Charles had taken responsibility for running the turkey shoot. From all accounts, the event had gone well. One of the older cowhands had suggested they bring in some turkeys to shoot, of all things. The ladies of the society had made it clear they didn’t want dead birds as part of their Christmas Fair. Instead, the men had agreed to shoot at turkey-shaped targets instead, with one live bird the grand prize. The winner would eat well for Christmas dinner.

  She wondered if they would ever help these people understand appropriate behavior. Like making very public declarations of love and marriage proposals. If he had done such a thing back in New York, members of high society would have punished them for the display of affection the same way they had a crime. He—and she—would have been socially ostracized.

  For the first time, since Teddy had cast her aside and walked away, Judith found she didn’t care what any of the people in New York thought. Her spirits lifted.

  The first of the musical numbers would begin soon, and the room was filling up with people looking forward to entertainment and warmth. At the suggestion of Edith, families wishing to sell small items had been given booths near the door. Judith was sure many of the items on display would also be sold.

  A permanent art center in Lilac City would be a lovely legacy. It wouldn’t have to be large, but the broad selection of items today was evidence of the many talented people who resided here.

  She scanned the room, struck by the power of it. It was as though the Lord had opened her eyes, and a sense of humility settled on her. These people worked hard, giving most of their energy and strength to survival, yet through it all they’d still created this beauty. Pride at what they’d accomplished swelled in her chest, and a lump formed in her throat. Mr. Pulsifer’s words echoed in her mind. Dirty cowboy? What stuff and nonsense.

  Judith wanted to share what she’d come to understand with Luke. She glanced around the room. Had he left after hanging the pictures?

  Then she recalled the expression on his face. He’d declared his love for her, and she’d been so consumed by her own imperfections she hadn’t even considered how her hesitation might make him feel.

  Had Luke taken her response as rejection? When he’d pressed her for an answer, Judith’s doubts had overwhelmed her. She hadn’t been able to think. Then those people had appeared, and she hadn’t been able to speak. His words echoed in her mind. Where was he?

  “What are you frowning at?” Marshall asked from behind.

  Startled, Judith clutched her hands to her chest and spun to face him.

  “Is it because Luke proposed to you?”

  “How can you know that?”

  Her brother shot her a disbelieving look. “You had witnesses, dear sister. And stories always grow the more they’re passed around. If I thought he’d really tried to force himself on you, I’d kill him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Judith said, irritated at the gossipmongers. “You know perfectly well Luke would never do that.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve already given my blessing. If Luke proposed today, why are people not congratulating you?” Marshall glared at her. “Please don’t tell me you agreed to the courtship but then turned him down.”

  “Of course, I didn’t turn him down,” Judith said, putting on a hard smile. “Even I wouldn’t give a man false expectations.”

  “What does that mean?” Her brother studied her, his eyes narrowed.

  “I am the daughter of Martin Breckinridge, aren’t I?” Fighting against the stinging in the back of her eyes, Judith lifted her chin. The too-familiar manner she’d developed for protection back in New York slipped into place.

  “Oh, Juicy,” Marshall said, using his childhood nickname for her and putting a hand on her cheek, “please don’t look like that again. What are you afraid of?”

  Judith told him all she’d said to Luke. “He doesn’t need a high society lady who’s had servants to do everything for her and a nanny to care for the chil— dren.” Judith’s voice broke on the last word.

  “Ahh.” Marshall nodded. “You’ve been a mess ever since you visited Mary Teague the day she had her baby. You don’t have anything to worry about. You already know how to be a good mother. Our own showed you how to love and protect. If you marry Luke, you won’t have anything to worry about.”

  “But how does one care for so many children?” Judith rubbed her temples, a headache building there.

  “Does Luke have children I’m not aware of?”

  Judith scowled at her brother.

  “Unlike Doris’s situation where she inherited two children by marrying me,” Marshall said, humor touching his voice now, “you and Luke would start your family with a newborn and not four children. And they would be yours. I have two of my own—whom I manage quite well—and I can’t handle Stephen Teague’s children.” Her brother shook his head. “I can see your New York finishing school didn’t prepare you to be a rancher’s wife, but they did teach you how to learn. Juicy, you’ll excel at it just as you do everything you put your mind to.”

  Judith dared to let herself believe. “Have you seen Luke?”

  “That’s my girl.” Marshall pointed to the back of the hall. “The last I saw he was heading outside. He won’t leave, not with some of his men performing. Be sure to wear your coat.” He gave her a gentle push in the direction of the door.

  Assuring herself her brother wouldn’t lie, Judith gathered her coat and scarf to protect her ears and face. She didn’t have time for a hat. She had to find Luke and tell him she’d marry him.

  As she walked to the door, Frances approached with narrowed eyes. She carried the rifle she’d used earlier to participate in the turkey shoot, her posture stiff.

  “What are you playing at?” the young woman asked, planting herself in front of the door and looking very much like she wanted to use the rifle on Judith.

  “I have no idea what you mean.” She tried to brush past Frances, but she shifted to block the way outside.

  “We saw you kissing my brother, and now you won’t marry him?”

  “Whoa, there, Frances.” Nick put himself between them. “You ought to know better than to buy into the local gossip. Even without meaning to, people manage to twist things they’ve heard.”

  “That’s why I’m asking Judith to tell me what happened.” Frances moved next to Nick, her head tilted and one brow arched.

  “This is not a discussion I wish to have with you.” Judith tried to move past them.

  “Not so quick,” Frances began.

  “Fine.” Judith matched the young woman’s posture and met her gaze. “I’m trying to go outside to finish the conversation your brother and I were having when we were so rudely interrupted. Now, do you mind?”

  “I told you so,” Nick muttered, and Frances glared at him. He said to Judith, “Go ahead.”

  “I’ll let you go, but I’m standing right here by this door. If I’m not happy with how my brother looks ...” Frances shot Judith a warning glance.

  The humor of the situation struck her, and she smiled. “I hope we’ll all be happy.”

  14

  Luke pulled up his collar. The trees near the back of the community hall provided a buffer for the wind that had kicked up. It had a bite to it, so it looked like they were likely to get more snow.

  The year had turned out to be nothing like his previous ones. It had started out well. Last spring he’d been e
xcited beyond comprehension to receive the first telegram saying his sisters would be coming to live with him. What a reunion that had been. Then Marshall had had one of his own with Judith joining him.

  Luke started to pace to keep his feet from going numb. That woman. She hadn’t lacked confidence when she’d agreed to his suit. Had he been cocky that she’d returned his feelings? He had some experience with women, mostly before he’d come out West. He’d met a few society ladies to whom flirting was a way of life, but he’d never have guessed Judith might be one of them. When she’d responded to his kiss the way she had, he’d assumed it had meant something.

  The sound of a twig cracking in the nearby brush startled him. He peered into the fading light, but shadows made it difficult to see if someone were standing there. The privy was on the other side of the building, and he’d seen people going in and out that door all day. He hoped one of the children hadn’t gotten confused after a visit to the outhouse and wandered off.

  “Hello?” Luke called, listening for movement. Was that a whimper? With the wind he couldn’t tell.

  He took a few careful steps in the direction of the trees. Another low sound came from the underbrush, almost like a muffled cry. A chill ran down Luke’s spine. Was it a premonition or only the wind?

  “Is anyone there?”

  A low growl made Luke’s skin crawl. He moved back, his hand automatically reaching for his gun. It wasn’t there, of course. He’d left it hanging with his gun belt back at the ranch. He shouldn’t have needed it at a cultural event.

  “Not so fast,” a deep, accented voice said.

  A large, bear-shaped form seemed to appear out of the trees carrying something. On each side, two sets of eyes glowed in the light of the dying sun. As they walked forward, he recognized the creatures for what they were—huge dogs. One had a similar look to the beast Tom had killed.

  Something in the man’s arms moved, and Luke recognized it: little Devon Teague. The child’s eyes were huge.

  “Put the boy down,” Luke said, keeping an eye on the animals.

  “Your man kill my dog.” The man’s heavy accent made a mess of the words, but the menace in them was unmistakable.

  “Your dog killed some of my cattle,” Luke said. “The child has nothing to do with it.”

  “Cattle were job. Kill my dog, you make it personal.”

  “Well, killing my cattle made it personal to me.” Luke took on the placating tone he used with an angry guest. “This is between us. Let the boy go.”

  A whimper came from Devon, but a sharp command from the man silenced the child. How was Luke to get the boy away? Distraction?

  “How much is William Lancaster paying you?”

  “Much money. He only want herd ruined so sisters go to him.” A glint of white appeared in the man’s beard. Was he grinning? “Kill you, make better for him.”

  Devon whimpered again. Luke took a step forward, but one of the dogs snarled. The menacing sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and silenced the boy. The man lifted a hand like he was preparing to give a command, but the door behind Luke opened, and light spilled into the area.

  He stiffened, sending up a silent prayer that no one would be hurt.

  “Luke?”

  At Judith’s tentative voice, his heart lurched into his throat. His instincts to protect pulled him in two different directions. He raised one hand before him and the other to signal her to stay but then she gasped.

  “How dare you,” she cried rushing forward. “Unhand that child at once.”

  Everything seemed to happen at once. The man threw Devon to the ground at the same time he gave a command in another language. The dogs leaped into motion. One charged at Judith while the other came at Luke.

  Judith threw her arms up with a scream. The beast hit her, and the cry turned into an ooph with the impact.

  Lights flashed in the corners of Luke’s eyes. Then the other dog’s paws hit his chest. They crashed on the snow. There were two sharp cracks in quick succession. The beast collapsed on him.

  “Nooo,” the man roared.

  “Stay right where you are, mister,” Frances cried in her most menacing voice.

  “And she ain’t alone,” Nick’s voice growled.

  Then there were many voices all around them. Luke shoved the beast off and struggled to his feet.

  “Judith! Devon,” he cried, pushing past the people, scanning the tree line.

  Luke found her on the ground by the boy whom she cradled against her chest as he cried. He appeared to have just been frightened.

  A knot formed in Luke’s throat. What if she’d been killed? A sense of loss not experienced since the death of his mother struck him with such force his knees turned weak. But Judith wasn’t dead. He staggered to her and dropped to his knees to put his arms around the two of them.

  “Judith?” Marshall called, running to them, Steven Teague beside him.

  “Daddy,” Devon sobbed, extending his hands to his father who took him into his arms.

  People crowded around them.

  “He’s getting away,” Frances cried, followed by the sound of gunfire. “Hey, I was going to shoot him!”

  “Not your job, Frances. Now, you folks get back inside. Where’s the doctor?” Sheriff Vosburg shouted, as he strode to the man’s prone form.

  “Is that blood?” Marshall asked, his voice choking.

  “How badly are you hurt?” Luke asked, pulling Judith to her feet. “Did that beast bite you?”

  Still trembling, she looked down at her coat. The green now had dark splotches running down her left side. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she swayed with dizziness.

  “Let me see,” Edith Vosburg said, pushing her way past the crowd. “Are you hurt?”

  Judith hurt everywhere but nowhere specifically. “It must be the dog’s blood. What about you, Luke?”

  Everyone turned their eyes to him now while Edith took Judith’s arm. “We need to get the two of them inside and in better light.”

  “Where’s the doctor?” Marshall asked his voice now indignant.

  “He’s trying to save that German fellow who had the dogs,” Charles said. “The sheriff’s gone inside to oversee the surgery.”

  Luke put his arm around Judith’s shoulders and offered her support as they headed back into the building. Still wobbly, she needed it. A flash of irritation struck her. After all their work, that terrible man and his beastly animals had turned the Christmas Fair into chaos.

  “This is not at all the proper atmosphere for the Christmas story,” she complained.

  Mr. Teague shifted to look back at her, Devon in his arms. The child raised his hand to her. Judith smiled at him. Then Mary was pulling him from his father, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “If you gentlemen will take Mr. Hamblin to another room to be examined for injuries, I will take Miss Breckinridge with me,” Edith said in the same commanding voice her brother used when he was ordering people around as the sheriff.

  “We’re coming with Judith,” Frances said. Doris and Maude nodded their heads.

  “Fine.” Edith led the way inside.

  Judith’s body had begun to calm, but her tears began. She said nothing, moisture running down her cheeks, as the ladies helped to remove her coat. They examined her thoroughly, asking if anything hurt.

  “I feel as though I took a fall from a horse,” she said with a sniff, and Doris handed her a handkerchief.

  “I’d say a small horse did fall on you,” Frances said, and her voice turned proud as she said, “and I put that beast down. Nick got the one on Luke.”

  “You shot the dog?”

  “I sure did. He looked like he was about to go for your throat.”

  “He was.” When the shaking began again, Judith took a deep breath to calm herself. They had survived.

  “Your coat must have protected you,” Edith said. “There are some tears in it and only a little blood on your dress.”

  “Is
there an apron I can borrow to cover it?” Judith asked.

  “Aren’t you going home?” Maude asked.

  “The Christmas Fair isn’t over.” Judith glanced around the room that had been serving as a kitchen. “Doris’s scholars have been working all month on this program, and tomorrow is Christmas Eve. We must not disappoint them.”

  “Are you sure?” Doris asked, looking uncertain.

  “We can’t end the evening with this. We must have the story of the birth of the Prince of Peace,” Judith said.

  “I agree,” Frances said firmly. “We need to give everyone something happy to leave the fair with.”

  “I’ll tell the children,” Doris said, turning to leave.

  “Mr. Pulsifer must read his cowboy poetry piece first though,” Judith called, beginning to feel more like herself as she gave instructions. “That will help calm everyone. Now let me find an apron.”

  The women left her, and Judith took a few minutes to compose herself. When she stepped out of the kitchen area, she found Luke and Marshall waiting.

  “Doris said you’re unhurt?” her brother asked.

  “Do you doubt her?” Judith patted his cheek while she took Luke’s hand with her other. “Doesn’t she need your help with the scholars? Will Devon be able to perform?”

  “That little boy is one tough kid,” Luke said.

  “He didn’t even wait for Doris to ask,” Marshall said with a grin. “The little man marched right up to her and insisted he was able to fulfill his duty.”

  “Pulsifer is ready to begin his piece,” Luke said.

  “Excellent. I’ve been looking forward to hearing him recite it.” Judith took a step forward, but Luke pulled her back.

  “I love you.” He cupped her cheek and pressed his forehead to hers. “When I saw that dog jump on you ...” Luke coughed. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”