A month ago, his pa’s analogy would have angered Brooks, but not now. Not since he’d made things right with God. It made perfect sense. He grasped his father’s hand and shook it. “Thanks, Pa. I don’t deserve it, but I’m sure thankful to know it’s there. Times have been tough here.”
“Let me help with the horses, and I think you have a pretty, little lady to check on.” Pa winked and hurried over to help Nate unhitch the horses.
Brooks watched him jog away, still unable to grasp that he’d made peace with his family—with his father. What a fool he’d been to waste so many years. He couldn’t afford to waste any more. He strode to the barn and saddled Jester. He needed to survey the damage and make sure the fire was completely out and that Keri was all right. He thought of the rabid coyote and how she didn’t have a gun with her now. He led Jester out of his stall and climbed on. As soon as he cleared the barn, he urged the horse to run.
Keri stomped toward the smoldering windmill. She knew Dengler was responsible, but how could she prove it? Why did this have to happen now, when things were going so well? An ominous thought made her stumble. She gasped and regained her footing. What if Carl had done this? He’d warned her that he wasn’t someone to trifle with.
She walked down the hill, tears pooling in her eyes as she stared at the charred remains of the windmill. It had been so majestic the day they left Raven Creek, and now it was nothing but rubble—and poor Jess had died here. She thought of the happy man. He may not have been the sharpest pencil in the box, but he was always kind. Nate would miss his company something fierce. And now they were a man down and had no money with which to hire another one.
Maybe she should encourage Brooks to sell out before he was killed too. He’d already had a close call. But then he’d go away, and she didn’t think she could bear that. In spite of trying so hard to resist him, the man had gotten under her skin and into her heart. She wasn’t certain if she loved him—she’d had few examples of love—but she cared deeply. She’d been so scared at the crash when she thought he was dead. She folded her arms and rubbed her hands on them, even though the hot afternoon sun bore down on her.
Quickly approaching hoofbeats thundered in her direction. She didn’t have to look to know it was Brooks. After her close call the other day, he wouldn’t leave her out here knowing she was unarmed. Still, she glanced over her shoulder, and her heart leapt at the sight of him.
He dismounted and walked up beside her and took her hand. He squeezed it and blew out a loud sigh.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“We’ll rebuild.”
“But how? And what about finding out who did this?”
“I think we both know who that is.”
She paused a moment, considering whether to tell him or not. “It might have been someone else.”
Brooks faced her, brows lifted. “What does that mean?”
“It may have been Carl.”
“Carl Peters? Why would he do such a thing? I thought he liked you.”
“He did—or does, but I told him I wouldn’t marry him.”
Brooks grinned. “Found someone you liked better, did you?”
She scowled and shoved him. “Don’t be a ninny. This isn’t something to joke about. Jess was murdered! Our windmill has been destroyed. We have precious little water left. Even if we started rebuilding tomorrow, in this heat, we won’t have enough water for more than a few days.”
As if to emphasize her point, a cow down at the pond mooed.
“I have to return the horses to the livery tomorrow, so I’ll see if the same crew is available to build another windmill.” He walked over to a smoldering hunk of wood and kicked dirt over it. “Once this cools down, we can sort through it. There’s quite a bit of wood that didn’t completely burn. We can use it this winter for firewood and won’t have to hunt for so much wood.”
“Do you always see a silver lining in every storm cloud?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t used to. If I had, I never would have left home.”
“What changed?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and stared past her. “I guess I did. My mother spoiled me, no doubt about it. I know she meant well, but it still happened. I grew into a sullen adolescent who didn’t want to work. My pa tried to make a man of me, but I rebelled and ran off, thinking I knew more than him.” He gazed down at Keri and brushed the back of his finger across her cheek. “I was wrong. It took me nearly ten years of hard knocks and growing up to learn that.”
Keri stared up at him, a smirk dancing on her intriguing lips. “You’re a slow learner, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “In some things. But there’s one thing I was good at right from the start.”
She blinked her long lashes, a smile pulling at her tempting lips. “What’s that?”
“Kissing.” He tugged her closer, and dipped his head, enjoying how her eyes widened, but then he closed his and pressed his lips against hers. He’d wanted to kiss her since the first time he’d seen her mounted on Bob and pointing a rifle at the men bent on killing him. He pulled her up against him and deepened the kiss, breathing hard out of his nose. He didn’t want to pull away, but he knew he should and did.
Keri wobbled, her lips red, her eyes half glazed over. He grinned.
She shook her head and turned her back to him. Either she was embarrassed, angry, or both.
“What about Carl?”
That unexpected question sure doused his passion. “What about him?”
She spun back around, still looking thoroughly kissed. He stood a bit taller.
“He said that he wanted to marry me and that he always got what he wanted. What if he did this because I refused him?”
Brooks wouldn’t put it past the man. His gut instinct had sensed something the first time he met Carl Peters. “It’s possible, I guess, but it sounds more like Dengler’s work.” He fingered his throat. “Especially the hanging part.”
“We need to make him pay. How do we get even with him?”
“You can’t get even with a man like Saul Dengler. They don’t play fair. You have to bide your time and hope they make a mistake. Besides, I think this is something we need God’s help with. It’s too big for us to handle on our own.”
“What did God ever do for us?”
“Oh, He saved me from hanging and from getting killed at that crash. He saved you from that coyote.”
“You saved me, not God.”
Brooks pressed his lips tight and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I was ready to ride the other way and let you walk off some steam, but then I felt this overpowering desire to find you. That was God impressing on me that you needed help.”
She crossed her arms. “Maybe. But I haven’t seen much of God’s hand in my life.”
“Maybe you aren’t looking hard enough.”
She glared up at him. “Just what does that mean?”
“I can see God’s hand in many things that happened to you.”
“Like what?” She pursed her lips in a pouty manner that made him want to steal another kiss, but he resisted.
“Well, for one, your uncle sent your mother away when she became pregnant. If he hadn’t done that, life here would have been difficult for you. You know how people thumb their noses at—well, children born out of wedlock. Two, he brought you back here, gave you a home, and raised you the best he knew how. Will loved you, I’m sure of it.”
“You don’t know anything. Since when did you start taking things seriously? You always laugh and joke around. You’re a clown, Brooks Morgan. What makes you think I’d ever want to marry you?
She spun around and stomped back up the hill. He stood there speechless, with his hands resting on his hips. What had he said to set her off like that? He’d just been trying to help her see how God had worked in her life when she hadn’t known He was there. He shook his head.
Women.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Men. None of them confused h
er like Brooks Morgan. And that kiss. Oh my. It had reached in and stirred up her insides worse than a butter churn. It made her—feel. Warmth, delight, anger. Why did he kiss me?
And why was she disappointed when he stopped?
She thought about kissing Carl, and her stomach churned in a different manner—like it had that time Uncle Will made her drink milk. Only he didn’t know that it had gone blinky. After she retched all over the kitchen floor, he sent her to bed, and never made her drink milk again.
Keri washed her face at the well, wiped it off, and shook the water off her hands. She paused at the kitchen door and heard voices.
“You have a lovely daughter,” Mrs. Morgan said.
“And you have a handsome, charming son,” her mother replied.
The two women giggled. Keri plastered herself against the back of the house so they wouldn’t see her out the window or the back door.
“I guess maybe you’re hoping what I’m hoping,” Grace said.
Keri couldn’t for the life of her wonder what her ma’s dreams were. They hadn’t had time to talk about them yet.
“Is that horseradish in that dish? And sugar and vinegar?” Brooks’s ma asked.
Keri couldn’t hear her ma’s reply so she assumed she’d nodded. Several times a day, her mother took a bite of the odd concoction that made Keri shudder.
“Isn’t that combination a treatment for a heart condition?”
Keri’s own heart clenched. She burst in the back door and stared at her mother. “A heart condition? You mean you’re going to die?” Keri couldn’t stand the thought that she might lose her mother when she had just gotten her back.
Both women jumped.
“For heaven’s sake, Keri. Were you eavesdropping?” Her ma held on to the bib of her apron, as if hiding her heart.
“Don’t change the subject. Are you going to die?” She couldn’t bear the thought.
“Everyone is going to die, dear.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
Mrs. Morgan backed up and slipped out of the room.
Grace sighed. “I have a heart condition, but the doctor has assured me that if I continue the treatments he gave me and don’t overly tax myself, I could live to a ripe old age.”
Keri’s lip quivered. “So you’re not dying?”
Her mother smiled. “No one knows for certain the day they will die, but I feel fine. I’m strong, healthy. I’ll be all right.” She cupped Keri’s face with her palm. “I’ve never had more to live for than I have now.”
Keri closed her eyes, immensely relieved. “I just couldn’t bear to lose you when I just got you back.”
“I fully intend to live long enough to see my grandchildren grow up.”
Keri pulled back. “Grandchildren? But I’m not even married.”
“Well, I hope to remedy that situation soon.”
After all the tenseness and problems of the day, Keri laughed. “Leave it to two women to put their heads together and start matchmaking. I suppose we’d better go find Mrs. Morgan and move you into my room so they can stay in Uncle Will’s.”
She locked arms with her mother. Keri’s emotions had run the gamut today. Even having to share her bed, she would have no problem sleeping tonight.
Brooks thought he’d never get to sleep last night. He yawned and stretched, giving the horses their head. They certainly knew the way back to town. Hitched to the back of the buggy, Jester nickered, as if jealous that he wasn’t being ridden. “You’ll get your turn, boy.”
Breakfast had been a crowded affair in his little kitchen with his parents there, and yet it was difficult not seeing Jess, making his odd comments and wolfing down his food. Brooks’s heart ached, just thinking about what those vigilantes had done to that poor man. He fingered his neck. If God hadn’t intervened in his hanging, he’d be dead now, and his parents would never have known what happened to him. He would have never met Keri.
“Lord, there’s got to be something folks like me can do about a powerful man like Saul Dengler. Can’t You let him step on a rattlesnake or something?” Brooks chuckled at the thought of that sidewinder killed by a rattlesnake. He instantly sobered as he realized what an un-Christian thought that was. “Sorry, Lord.”
He returned the buggy, then led Jester down the street to the marshal’s office. He passed the café where he’d first met Will, and he paused to remember the old man and to consider how his life had changed since arriving in Shoofly. If he didn’t know better, he’d think God had orchestrated the whole thing.
Will needed him, and he needed friendship and a home—a hope for the future.
He needed to find God and make things right with Him, and he needed Keri in his life.
He knocked on the marshal’s door and stepped inside. The office was empty, except for a man lying on a cot in one of the cells in back. “Hey, when’s a fella s’posed to get somethun to eat around here?”
“Don’t know,” Brooks hollered.
He stood on the boardwalk and looked around. There ought to be a way to get folks to band together to fight Dengler. He rubbed the back of his neck and decided it was time for a haircut. Maybe if he spiffied up some, Keri would be more inclined to marry him.
He crossed the street and strode into the barbershop. A man sat in one of four chairs that lined the wall, while Earl sat in his barber chair. “Well, lookie there, Curtis, the whelp decided to come and pay his respects. How you been, kid?”
“I’ve been better.” Brooks took off his hat and laid it over his knee.
Earl draped a cape over Brooks’s shirt and secured it at his nape. “What’ll it be today?”
“Just a haircut.”
Earl grabbed his comb and shears and began snipping.
“What’s got you so low in the mouth?”
Brooks really wanted to tell the marshal first, but more than likely, word had already gotten out. “Someone burned down our new windmill early this morning, and they hanged Jess Baxter.”
Pausing with the comb and shears in midair, Earl gawked at Brooks in the mirror. “I’m sure sorry about that. Jess was a good-hearted man that wouldn’t hurt a fly. Any ideas who did it?” He snipped along Brooks’s neckline.
“I have my suspicions, but no proof.”
Curtis, a man Brooks had seen around town, harrumphed. “Only one yahoo around here causing problems for folks.” He spat on the floor. “Dengler—and his cronies.”
“There ought to be something we could do to put a stop to his cruelties.” Brooks scratched at a tickle on his neck. The tightness of the barber’s cape against his throat reminded him of that noose and his close call.
“There was some trouble out at O’Malley’s last night too.” Earl moved around front and trimmed around Brooks’s face. The man smelled of cigar smoke, as he always did.
“Was anyone hurt?”
Earl pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup. They killed Tom. Strung him up like smoked ham.”
Brooks closed his eyes and sighed. Tom O’Malley wasn’t much older than he was and he had a wife and three young’uns. “What’s gonna happen to his family?”
Curtis sat up and leaned forward. “Probably sell out to Dengler now. What else can a widow woman with a flock of youngsters do?”
“We need to form a committee to do something about Dengler,” Brooks said.
Earl barked a laugh. “Sure, and they’ll kill you like they did Will.”
“They already tried to murder me once, but they didn’t succeed.”
Earl ran the comb through Brooks’s hair. “And you won’t succeed in finding anybody to head up that committee. Ever’body’s got too much at stake.”
Brooks mulled over the idea of a committee, but what would be the point? The people of town were good, law-abiding citizens, not a frenzied crowd of vigilantes. Lord, we need some help here. How do small-town folk stand up to a bully like Dengler?
Keri rummaged through the trunk of clothes that she’d brought home from Georgia. She tossed dre
ss after dress onto the bed then turned and stared at the mountain of fabric and ruffles. What was she going to do with all these?
She tugged out a pale green dress that she halfway liked. She spread out the wide skirt and tapped her lip. “Hmm … I wonder.”
“Wonder what?” Her mother carried Keri’s pitcher over to the stand and set it in the bowl. She brushed her hand across her brow.
“I told you to let me do the heavy lifting. You need to take things easy.”
Grace walked over and lifted the skirt of a blue gown. “What are you going to do with all of these?”
“I don’t know.”
“If I might offer a suggestion … you should pick out the ones you like best, and we can make some adjustments so that they look more like a dress a woman would wear than a girl and keep them for special events, like barn dances, or church socials.”
“I suppose we could do that, although I rarely go to such events.”
Her mother flashed a knowing smile. “I have a feeling you’ll be going to more of them if a certain man has his way.”
Keri scowled as she thought of how demanding Carl had been. “I have no desire to go anywhere with that man.”
“Why? What has he done?”
Keri threw out her arms. “You were there. I’m sure you heard some of what he said. Threatening me if I didn’t agree to marry him.”
Grace laid her hand on her chest and laughed. “I didn’t mean him. I was talking about Brooks. Surely you can see that he cares deeply for you?”
Heat rushed to Keri’s cheeks, and she turned and walked to the window. Nate and Mr. Morgan were sorting through the rubble of the tower, looking for anything salvageable. Their pile was small so far.
“Keri, do you have feelings for Brooks?” Grace coughed and cleared her throat. “I mean, if you’d rather not talk to me about that, I understand.”
Keri turned and glanced at the door. “Where is Mrs. Morgan?”
“She’s downstairs, washing their travel clothes so they’ll be clean when they return home.”
“Brooks will hate to see them go. It’s been really good for him to spend time with them—after all that happened.”
End of the Trail Page 19