by Karen Kirst
He should go.
He was walking back, a hasty goodbye forming on his lips, when he glimpsed her sitting alone. Her gaze centered on Walt, who was crouched in the tent opening drawing. She looked lost. Troubled. Forlorn. Emotions he could readily identify with. Disregarding his instinct to flee, he resumed his spot and wound his fingers about the cooled mug.
“Has he ever spoken?” he asked quietly.
“Oh, yes.” A guarded smile touched her lips. “He was a typical child. Bright, curious. Always asking why this or why that. He especially liked to sing the silly nursery rhymes his babushka, Nancy, taught him. And then Drake died—” her brows met in the middle “—and he just stopped speaking.” Head bent, she stared into her cup.
So this was a recent development. That meant there was a good chance he’d speak again. “You think it stems from the trauma of his father’s accident?”
“I do.” Her mouth flattened. “It makes no sense, though. Drake ignored him much of the time. He didn’t even want us to come out here. He expected us to wait in Virginia until he sent for us. I refused because I had my doubts he’d ever make good on his promise.” She pursed her lips, as if she’d revealed too much. “I simply don’t understand how his passing affected Walt to this degree when they weren’t even close.”
Gideon digested that information, unable to understand how a man could treat a child as if he weren’t important. Children were meant to be prized. Cherished.
If Drake had treated his son that way, how must he have behaved toward his wife?
His hands tightening on the mug, he let his gaze probe the shadowed depths of her eyes. “Was he ever violent?”
Inhaling sharply, she gripped the edge of the trunk, her knuckles going white. “No. Drake knew better than to lay a finger on either of us. My brothers would’ve killed him.”
Instead of dispersing, the shadows merely deepened. He was suddenly very angry with a dead man. “There are other methods of cruelty, though. Is that not so, Evelyn?”
“I—” The color receded from her face. “I can’t—”
He shouldn’t have pushed. He had no right to intrude upon her privacy and sure wouldn’t appreciate it if the tables were turned.
Pushing to his feet, he stared solemnly down at her. “I apologize. That was forward of me.”
She followed suit, standing very close, her black skirt brushing his pant legs. “My marriage is not something I’ve discussed with anyone.”
“You owe me no explanations.” He gestured toward the dwindling fire. “Can I help you clean up?”
“No, but I appreciate the offer.”
“I’ll say good-night, then.” Dipping his head, he started to move past her.
“Gideon, wait.” Her small hand braced against his biceps, she stared up at him with an expression free of old prejudices. There was only a mother’s gratitude. “If it weren’t for you, there’s a good chance I might not have been reunited with my son. Thank you.” Leaning close, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. A light, fleeting brush of velvet-soft lips against his skin. A kiss, innocent though it was, that sent him reeling.
Rendered speechless, he gave a halfhearted wave and backed away until his bootheel caught on a log and he almost tripped. Managing a gruff good-night, he strode away, eager for the darkness to swallow him up.
Chapter Nine
The memory of Evelyn’s kiss stayed with him through the long, restless night, a sweet, wondrous moment in time that affected him far more than it should have. It was only a thank-you kiss, for goodness’ sake. What intrigued him about the entire episode was the fact that she despised him. A lady didn’t go around kissing liars and cheats. Did her behavior indicate her opinion of him was undergoing a change?
Does it really matter, Thornton? Who cares what she thinks of you? It wasn’t as if the two of them would end up friends after the judge’s ruling. They were on opposite sides. Always had been, always would be.
Hurrying through breakfast, he was emerging from the stable hefting a saddle for Snowball when he noticed Evelyn and Walt walking in his direction. They were decked out in their Sunday best—Walt in a gray-and-black pinstripe suit and Evelyn in her elegant black widow’s weeds—a large Bible tucked beneath her arm. Lars’s invitation passed through his mind. He smothered a groan. Surely they didn’t expect him to escort them to church?
“Good morning, Gideon.” Her guard was firmly in place. No sign of the softness that had been in evidence last night. Her heavy mane was arranged in a severe chignon. Of course, it didn’t detract from her beauty. She resembled a fierce warrior maiden. “Are you on your way to services?”
She wouldn’t know of his aversion to anything God related. “I am headed over to Elijah’s, but not for services. I plan to have a quick word with him afterward.”
“Oh, I assumed...” Her black lace gloves flashing in the shimmering light, she gestured to the saddle in his hands. She looked resigned. “Would you mind terribly if we borrowed one of your mounts? Reid is supposed to bring one for me in the coming days, so it would only be this once.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to attend my brother’s church?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard God’s Word preached. After what happened yesterday, I...” Her hand tightened around Walt’s. “I feel the need to be around other believers. I’m desperate for encouragement, and if that means sitting in Elijah Thornton’s congregation, so be it.”
“I see.” Although he didn’t. Not really.
“Don’t you ever feel that way?” she probed, her gaze searching for truths he’d worked long and hard to keep hidden.
“No.” There was no help for him. No encouragement to be found.
She didn’t appear to be satisfied with that answer. “Gideon—”
“I’ll take you,” he blurted, unwilling to deal with her curiosity.
Besides, not only was he fresh out of sidesaddles, but he felt responsible for their safety. He hadn’t forgotten the soldiers’ queer behavior and Private Strafford’s marked interest in the widow. In fact, that was what he was intent on discussing with his brothers today. He adjusted the saddle in his arms. “Give me a few minutes to hitch up the wagon.”
“I don’t want to put you to extra trouble,” she protested.
“No trouble.”
When he’d hitched the wagon and handed them onto the smooth wooden seat, he circled around and climbed aboard, thankful Walt acted as a buffer between them. Gideon didn’t need the distraction of her touch.
The picturesque ride passed in silence. Something must be weighing on her mind for her to be this quiet.
Was she already regretting her decision? He wondered what his brother’s reaction would be to them showing up together. He didn’t have to guess her brothers’ reactions if they found out she’d willingly attended Lije’s church.
He glanced at her profile. “You’re not worried Theodore will find out about this?”
“I can hold my own with my brothers.”
As the baby of the family and a girl at that, he could see where she’d had to develop a strong backbone.
“What’s that?” She pointed to a rectangular log structure.
“That large oak we passed a few yards back marked the edge of Alice’s property, Elijah’s fiancée. That building is the Healing Heart infirmary.”
“She’s the nurse who tended to Drake?” Her voice lowered an octave.
Taking his eyes off the landscape, Gideon studied her profile. “Yes. You’ll meet her today.”
Lips compressing, she nodded but said nothing. He found himself wondering what was going on inside her head. It wasn’t long before they crossed onto Elijah’s claim and the large church tent came into view. They’d packed it up the night before the land rush and transported it here
to use while their church was being built. Beyond it, on the western edge of Lije’s property and the closest to town, the permanent church building was showing progress.
“That right there is going to be the church and schoolhouse.”
To his surprise, he hadn’t minded working with the men. Most of them were parishioners of Elijah’s. They hadn’t peppered him with questions, however, or acted as if his presence was a strange occurrence. At the end of his shift, he’d blurted out an offer to work again. The gratitude on his brother’s face had been worth the time and effort.
After guiding his team alongside a handful of wagons, he set the brake, then strode around the rear and assisted Evelyn and Walt down. The boy’s eyes were large as he took in his surroundings.
“I suppose I should introduce you to Lije,” he said as he whipped off his Stetson and ran a hand through his hair. Dread pulsed at his temples.
“I don’t expect you to babysit us.” While her chin was set in stubborn determination, wariness pinched her forehead. “I can see you’re about as comfortable as a baby chick in a nest of rattlers.”
He couldn’t suppress a small smile at that. Offering his arm, he said, “Are you comparing Lije’s church members to reptiles, Evelyn?”
Surprise lifted her thick brows, and laughter trembled about her mouth. She lightly placed her hand in the curve of his elbow. “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”
His trepidation momentarily forgotten, he escorted her across the lawn and into the tent’s interior, where it was only slightly dimmer than the spring day outside. Walt tripped along behind them.
Gideon noticed his brother standing in the aisle greeting guests. When Elijah saw him, his jaw dropped. Not surprising, considering. He quickly recovered, however, and moved swiftly to clap Gideon on the back.
“Gideon, good to see you. Who do you have with you?”
* * *
Still in a stupor brought about by the rare appearance of Gideon’s earth-moving smile, one that transformed his stark features into something truly beautiful and captivating, Evelyn vaguely noted the keen interest in Elijah Thornton’s intelligent face.
Gideon quietly introduced them. Amidst rough-hewn rows marching along two sides toward the pulpit in front, people gathered to catch up on the latest news. A few cast curious glances their way.
Elijah took her hand in a firm grip. She’d seen him in town before. Ministers weren’t all that plentiful in this start-up prairie town, their services in high demand to visit and pray for the sick and dying. The kindness brimming in his hazel eyes hadn’t been visible from a great distance.
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Montgomery.” His smile widened. “And young Walt. I’m glad you came today.”
Clutching her hand, her son pressed closer to her side, shy in this new environment.
The pastor straightened and gestured behind him. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce you to my fiancée.”
“That would be nice.” She mentally grimaced at how stilted she sounded even to her own ears. She’d wanted to come, yearned to hear a godly message, but now that she was here, awkwardness had set in. She was effectively in enemy camp. Gideon was right—her brothers would be spitting mad if they found out.
Tension radiating from his body, Gideon guided her down the center aisle toward the pulpit, his older brother leading the way. There were some similarities in the shapes of their faces, their dark hair and tan skin, but where Gideon was as solid as an oak, a man of the earth, Elijah was lean and compact, a man of wisdom and scholarly pursuits. One closed off, deflecting human interaction, the other engaging, seeking contact. Two devastatingly handsome men, two very different personalities. How did Sheriff Clint Thornton fit into the mix?
Snaking his arm about the waist of a petite redhead, Elijah interrupted her conversation with a quick word in her ear. She instantly turned into his embrace, and he smiled down at her with an expression of such pure adoration that Evelyn sucked in a painful breath. No man had ever looked at her that way. What must it feel like, to be the center of another’s universe?
“Mrs. Montgomery, may I introduce my fiancée, Miss Alice Hawthorne?”
“How do you do?” she murmured, deeply troubled by the knowledge she’d never experience that kind of bond.
Alice was beautiful in a sky blue dress that mirrored her eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you.” She smiled in a way that put Evelyn at ease. There was no artifice, only sincere pleasure on her face.
Gideon gently extracted his arm from her grasp, his eyes questioning. Somber. “Will you be all right if I wait on you outside?”
She nodded mutely, surprised he’d ask her preference.
“You’re not staying for the service?” Elijah’s voice was rife with disappointment.
A muscle ticked in Gideon’s jaw. “You know I can’t,” he bit out.
Evelyn watched the interchange with dismayed curiosity. Why was Gideon so upset? Why was he averse to staying? Questions pelted her mind.
“If you could try just once, maybe—”
“I’m leaving.”
Walt lunged toward the big cowboy, grabbed on to his hand with both of his. His face bore a pleading expression.
“Someone sure wants you to stay,” Alice commented in a hushed, awe-filled voice.
All four adults stared at Walt. From the look on Gideon’s face, he was waging a fierce inner battle. She held her breath. What would he do? He seemed to possess a soft spot for her son.
After several drawn-out, tense moments, his mouth softened, his shoulders drooped slightly in defeat. “I’ll stay.” He held up a finger when Walt bounced on his toes. “But I’m sitting in the back.”
* * *
The service was not a peaceful one. Evelyn couldn’t fully concentrate on Elijah’s words—something about extending mercy to others—because of the man beside her. He didn’t sing along with the congregation, just stood there like a martyr staring straight ahead, his hands fisted at his sides. And when it was time for the message, he sat locked in a statuelike position, his arms folded over his chest and shoulders slightly hunched, as if deflecting an onslaught of bullets. How could she sense the turmoil raging inside him and not wonder about its source? Not be bothered by his suffering?
The more time she spent in Gideon Thornton’s company, the less she thought of him as the enemy. Her family’s accusations were growing fuzzier, their hatred harder to grasp. It would’ve been easier to maintain her hostility if he ignored her son or treated them with scorn. But no, he went out of his way to help Walt, to teach him things any loving father would teach a son. As worried for Walt’s safety as she herself had been, Gideon hadn’t hesitated to go off in search of him. She had no doubt he would not have given up until Walt was safely in her arms. And now he was sitting in this makeshift church against his will, all because of a little boy’s silent plea that he stay.
Were these the actions of a bad man?
Stealing a glance at his granite profile, she noticed his pallor.
Elijah asked them to bow their heads for the final prayer. Before he’d uttered the last amen, Gideon bolted through the open tent flaps. She took hold of Walt’s hand and together they quietly made their way outside. He was already at the wagon, black hat pulled low over his eyes, pacing.
Without speaking, she lifted Walt into the rear of the wagon and left him to play with his carved wooden horse and soldier. Then she turned and blocked Gideon’s path.
A scowl twisted his lips and silver fire smoldered in his eyes, but she refused to be intimidated. Crossing her arms, she met his piercing gaze with calm resolve.
“I know it’s none of my business, but I’d like to know what’s bothering you. You’re awfully upset over a mere church service.”
Hands braced on his hips, he glared do
wn at her. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend to care.”
She stiffened. “That’s harsh.”
“Is it? You’ve accused me of some rather heinous crimes, Evelyn. According to you, my word isn’t worth the dust on my boot soles and I’m unscrupulous enough to take advantage of a dying man and his widow and child. So why are you surprised that I’d question your sincerity?”
“You’re right,” she conceded. “I did accuse you of some horrible things. And while I admit I’m not sure anymore what to think about what happened, that’s not the issue here. You’re obviously hurting, and you’re lashing out to keep me from the truth.” He flinched when she touched his sleeve. “What’s wrong, Gideon?”
Kneading the back of his neck, he stared at his boots. “God let me down, okay? I trusted Him to take care of my family, trusted His plan. He could’ve saved them. Could have but didn’t.” He flung a hand toward the church tent, lifted a tortured gaze that slammed into her. “Being in there, listening to Lije wax on about God’s love and protection, makes me want to hit something. Pointless to even go. I don’t think I can ever trust Him again.”
“You...you were married?” Evelyn stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Gideon Thornton, Mr. Lone Cowboy, once had a wife?
He clammed up. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“But—”
“Smile. The welcoming committee is about to descend.” Curving a hand about her upper arm, he turned her to face his brother and his fiancée. Following them was a young Indian woman and a boy Evelyn had noticed slipping into the tent just before the start of the service.
Gideon spoke first. “I need to speak with you, Lije. Lars, too. Is he here?”
Concern lined the pastor’s face. He would have had to be blind not to notice his brother’s mood. “He’s making his way through the crowd. Katrine is feeling under the weather this morning, and he’s eager to return home to check on her. He won’t be staying for lunch today.”