by Karen Kirst
“I don’t think so. You might haul off and hit me again.”
She jutted her chin, and her face was inches from his. “You are the most provoking, irritating man I’ve ever met, you know that? First you lead me to believe you’re a horrible, underhanded liar. Then, slowly but surely, you disprove every awful thing my family ever said about you. And immediately before riding off into danger, you spout off ridiculous garbage, not giving me a chance to correct your skewed thinking. Then you stay gone for hours, leaving me to worry and wonder if you’re lying somewhere hurt and bleeding. I debated whether or not to wake Walt and come searching for you or stay here and wait. O-only then it may have been too late.”
Gideon stared into her eyes, trying to absorb the deeper meaning behind her speech. His heart pranced around in his chest like a saddle-shy mustang. “Do you really mean that, Evelyn? You believe my version of what happened the day of the land rush?”
Her shoulders sagged, bringing her weight closer so that she very nearly rested against him. “I misjudged you. I know now that you’re honest to a fault. Good. Kind. Selfless. In answer to your question, yes, I do believe you.”
Satisfaction rushed through him. Finally. Evelyn trusted him.
“My parents were good people,” she continued, perplexed. “I don’t understand why they would propagate falsehoods about your family.”
Treading carefully, he suggested, “In the eyes of the town, my father betrayed the South. While he didn’t escape the war—he lost his life for his beliefs—my brothers and I didn’t have to endure the consequences of being on the losing side. Maybe your parents fell into the convenient habit of blaming him for their problems. Since he wasn’t around, they channeled their anger and defeat onto us.”
Pain twisted her features. “It’s difficult to accept they wreaked such havoc on innocent lives. And I’ve been a willing participant, blindly accepting their lies as truth. I accused you of terrible things, Gideon. I’m sorry—”
He cut her off with his mouth on hers. Later he would blame his actions on the loss of sleep and the contentment spreading through him like a warm fire on a cold night. Right now he needed to shock her out of this sorrowful state, to steal this brief moment of connection she claimed he craved.
And what a connection it was. While her lips were soft and moldable beneath his, they were also bold and searching. Like the woman herself, the kiss was adventurous and thrilling, hurtling him into unfamiliar territory in one second flat. Evelyn challenged him on every level. Why be surprised by her reaction to his advances?
Breathing in her sweet floral scent, he tangled his fingers in the waterfall of silken strands. She leaned into him, her hands sliding upward to explore his nape, his hair, before coming to rest on either side of his face. The caress made him feel cherished in a way he’d never before experienced. Cherished and vulnerable. A treacherous position to be in if he planned to keep his distance.
Admit it, your good intentions flew out the window the first time you touched her. No, the first time you clapped eyes on the woman.
Gideon struggled with the voice of reason screaming at him to end the kiss. Holding her eclipsed the loneliness shadowing his every step. With Evelyn in his arms, he felt...complete.
His gasp severed their connection. She blinked up at him in confusion. “Gideon?” Sweet breath fanned his mouth even as her thumbs gently skimmed his bristly jaw.
Complete? It couldn’t be. He was just fine on his own. There were no other options for him. But the weak, needy part of him wasn’t ready to let go just yet.
Mirroring her actions, he tenderly cradled her face and stared deep into her eyes, drinking in her loveliness. One dark brow wrinkled at his hesitation. Slowly lowering his head once more, he placed a brief, sure kiss upon her lips, a farewell of sorts.
He would not repeat this embrace. The knowledge made his hands shake a little as he drew back and disengaged himself.
Retrieving his hat from where it had landed in the straw, he avoided meeting her sober gaze. “I’ll relocate my camp closer to the stable in case we have more visitors. Keep your weapon handy.” He moved to the stable entrance. “Might not be a bad idea to barricade yourselves in each night.”
“So this is how we’re going to handle what just happened between us?” she asked softly. “Pretend it didn’t happen?”
He closed his eyes. The sensation of holding her in his arms would stay with him until his dying day. “I doubt that’s possible.”
“Then why—”
“It can’t happen again, Evelyn.” He spoke without turning around, gazing unseeing out at the black night. “Surely you see the wisdom in that.”
A long pause. “I do.”
He sighed as he stepped outside. “Get some rest.”
“Goodnight, Gideon,” she called after him, the loneliness he called friend echoing in her voice.
* * *
Evelyn remained in the shadows long after he’d gone.
Like a brand, Gideon’s touch lingered on her flushed skin, the sweet memories of his embrace burned into her consciousness. Wrong or right, she hadn’t wanted it to end, had felt bereft when he pulled away.
No man had inspired such wondrous emotions in her. How ironic that her family’s adversary—an untouchable cowboy who’d vowed to live out the rest of his life alone—should be the one man her soul recognized!
Movement outside startled her out of her reverie. She stiffened, and air whooshed from her lungs when she saw that it was Gideon, coming to set up his tent. Moonlight glinted off the silver-handled pistols in the gun belt riding low on his hips. His hair gleamed in the pale light, and she recalled how soft it felt sliding across her fingertips. What if she went to him now? There weren’t any rules saying a woman couldn’t initiate a kiss.
Where’s your common sense, Evelyn? Forget the kiss. Forget emotions. They aren’t reliable.
Gideon Thornton was off-limits. Not only because of who he was and the issue of the land and their respective futures standing between them, but because her marriage had soured her on ever trying again. All she had to do was remember how quickly Drake’s interest and admiration had faded, his snide remarks about her appearance during and after the pregnancy, his complaints on everything from her cooking to the way she ironed his shirts, and she was resolved once again to carefully guard her independence.
Her husband hadn’t loved her. Looking back, she wondered if she’d ever loved him. Maybe they’d both mistaken infatuation for something deeper, something true and long lasting. Whatever the case, she wasn’t going to risk that particular brand of misery again. Not for any man. Not even one who in another place and time and in other circumstances just might’ve proved to be her soul mate.
Turning from the sight of Gideon, she quietly returned to her room and her bed.
Chapter Fourteen
Guiding the team to a halt alongside the Healing Heart infirmary—Brave Rock’s one and only medical clinic, overseen by none other than his future sister-in-law—Gideon was glad he’d insisted Evelyn and Walt accompany him to Elijah’s for a quick meeting. The evidence he’d discovered that morning made him uneasy. Tracks of four riders meant the middle-of-the-night visit hadn’t been an accident. These weren’t travelers who’d accidentally stumbled upon his property. They were after something...but what?
He set the wagon’s brake and stole a glance at Evelyn’s profile. She was in mourning clothes again. While the severe black dress didn’t detract from her beauty, he preferred her in bright colors that set off her olive skin to perfection and brought a sparkle to her eyes. Besides, Drake hadn’t done anything to deserve the honor.
“Are you sure you don’t mind visiting with Alice while Lije and I meet with some of the townsmen?” Resting his gloved hands on his thighs, he regarded her from beneath his hat’s brim.
Over Walt’s head, who occupied the middle position and acted as a necessary buffer, troubled eyes touched on his and flitted away. Her nails dug into the beribboned reticule on her lap. “I could stand for a little female conversation.”
What was troubling her exactly? The intruders? The prospect of a visit with Alice, a member of the “enemy camp”? Or was it the awkward tension arcing between them, the memories of last night hovering unspoken but visible in each other’s eyes?
“I know you probably would’ve preferred to stay home.” He paused on that last word, stunned to realize the claim felt more like home with Evelyn and Walt there than it had without.
“No, you were right. Gun or no gun, a woman alone would be an easy target for men intent on wickedness.”
“It’s not that I don’t think you capable of handling yourself—”
“No need to explain.” She wrested her gaze back to his. “Truly. I understand, and I appreciate your concern.”
Gideon turned at the sound of light footsteps on the porch of the infirmary, which also served as his future sister-in-law’s home. Alice turned the corner of the building, her welcoming smile widening when she caught sight of his passengers. Waving, she twisted to speak to his brother, who’d followed her outside.
Watching the couple interact, Lije listening patiently, affection shining in his hazel gaze as he caressed Alice’s porcelain cheek, Gideon’s fingers curled into fists even as his heart squeezed with a thousand regrets. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Elijah. He was the type of man who knew how to love a woman the way she needed to be loved. Unlike with Gideon, their father’s untimely passing and their cousin’s harsh treatment hadn’t fatally flawed Lije or Clint, hadn’t rendered them incapable of communicating love.
Forcing his gaze to his lap, he felt the seat give as Evelyn climbed down without his assistance. Walt scooted to the edge and let her swing him down.
Alice appeared on his side, that gentle expression she wore around him in full view. “I’ve got two apple pies cooling inside for when you return. Come hungry.”
As Elijah settled himself in Evelyn’s seat, Gideon forced a smile. “I’ll be sure to keep the meeting brief, then.”
Pushing an errant curl behind her ear, a knowing look stole into Alice’s blue eyes. “Don’t worry about Evelyn. We’ll keep her entertained.”
There was nothing he could say to that. He tipped his head. “Appreciate it.”
Lije leaned forward. “Keep an eye on Dakota,” he teased, referencing an incident when Winona’s nephew first came to stay with the Gilbert family. Not realizing he’d be welcome to share the blueberry pie Cassie Gilbert had made, the eight-year-old boy had swiped it, eaten the entire thing and ended up with a terrible stomachache.
Alice laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“See you later, sweetheart.” Lije gave a little wave.
“Be careful.” She moved out of the way as Gideon took up the reins.
He couldn’t resist a final glance at Evelyn. With Walt tucked tightly against her side, she looked uncharacteristically vulnerable.
Lije nudged his shoulder. “She’ll be fine, brother. From what I’ve seen, the woman has spunk. Perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”
Different from Susannah, who’d looked to him for everything. Once he’d admitted to Lije that sometimes he felt smothered by her neediness. Shame had filled him. What sort of husband didn’t willingly support and assist his wife? Only now that he’d encountered strong, independent women like Alice and Katrine and Evelyn, he wondered if perhaps he hadn’t been right.
“Are we going to this meeting?” Lije motioned to their unmoving wagon, lazy humor coloring his voice. “If not, I’m going back inside for that slice of pie.”
With a low growl he snapped the reins and called for the horses to head out, Lije’s chuckles getting snatched away by the breeze.
No doubt because he was familiar with Gideon’s moods, Lije didn’t attempt to draw him into conversation. Instead, he regaled him with the minute details surrounding his upcoming nuptials, everything from the cake—Katrine Brinkerhoff had graciously agreed to bake it—to what type of flowers Alice planned to carry down the aisle.
“Alice wanted me to ask if you’d mind sporting a flower in the buttonhole of your suit jacket.”
Gideon frowned. Alice had brought joy back into his brother’s life. How could he deny her this small favor? “I suppose I could.”
With a burst of laughter, Elijah clapped him on the shoulder. “Just checking to see if you were listening, brother. But I appreciate your willingness to please my future bride.”
Gideon shook his head and remained silent the remainder of the ride into town. Clint’s horse was tied up to the hitching post in front of the jail, along with several others. Beside him Lije’s demeanor took a serious turn.
“What’s the reason for this impromptu meeting, Gideon?”
“I’ll tell you inside.”
When they stepped into the jailhouse, Clint looked up from his seat behind the desk and nodded a greeting, his pencil stilling above the pile of papers. Fatigue lined his unshaven jaw. The problems plaguing Brave Rock weighed heavily on his little brother’s shoulders, Gideon knew. No doubt the prejudice against their family, fanned into flame by the Chaucers, made his job that much harder.
As Gideon and Elijah made their way into the center of the room, the hum of conversation gave way to silence.
“Morning, Preacher.” Keith Gilbert, the deacon who’d initially taken in Dakota and cared for him while they searched for his family, stood and shook their hands. “Gideon.”
Paul Ramsey, whose barn had been deliberately burned to the ground, leaned against the wall opposite the desk, along with Daniel O’Grady—a burly redheaded Irishman—Lenny Barton and Ben Hamm.
Tossing the pencil down, Clint leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his vest. The star-shaped badge pinned above his heart winked in the sunlight streaming through the double windows.
“Let’s begin, gentlemen. Gideon, you have the floor.”
Moving to stand beside the desk, he held his hat in his hands as he addressed the group. “Four men stole onto my property last night. I woke to the sound of their voices. They must’ve heard me stir, because they moved out rather quickly.”
“Did they take anything?” Ramsey’s eyes narrowed.
“No.”
Elijah’s face was lined with concern. “Did you overhear their conversation?”
“No.” In hindsight, he should’ve lain quietly and listened, but the instant concern for Evelyn and Walt’s safety had driven rational thought from his sleep-muddled mind.
“What do you suppose they wanted?” Keith’s wrinkles deepened.
“I don’t know.”
“Over on my sister’s spread, four of her goats had their throats sliced from ear to ear last week. The scoundrels left them there for her to discover the next morning.” Daniel O’Grady shuddered. “Gruesome scene. Leila’s tough, but this was too much.”
Lenny Barton spat a wad of tobacco into a cup. “Someone raided my henhouse and smashed all the eggs. My poor Sarah hasn’t been able to sleep a wink since.”
“Something has to be done, Sheriff,” Ramsey fired at Clint. “You still haven’t caught the scoundrels who burned my barn. What exactly are you doing to protect the citizens of this town?”
Clint, who’d been silently listening to the accounts, rested his forearms on the nicked desktop. “To answer your question, I’ve done everything in my power to find them. There’s not much evidence to go on, however.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a scrap of solid black material. “Lars found this in the ashes of your barn. Looks to me like it’s been ripped from a shirt or bandanna. Any thoughts?”
“I don’t
recognize it,” Paul Ramsey conceded.
“Could belong to anybody,” Daniel sighed.
Smoothing the material with his fingers, Clint said, “Sounds to me like these men aren’t after anything specific. They’re trying to scare people. The question is, to what end?”
“I hate to suggest it,” Elijah darted a glance at Gideon before turning to address Clint, “but could it be that the Chaucers are trying to stir up trouble for you? They obviously aren’t happy you’ve been appointed the new sheriff.”
Gideon’s gut twisted into a tight ball. If it turned out Evelyn’s brothers were committing these heinous crimes, she’d be heartbroken. She’d suffered enough.
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Keith grumbled. As a deacon in Elijah’s church who clearly admired and trusted his preacher, he took the Chaucers’ rumor-spreading personally.
Gideon spoke up. “While that’s a possibility, we all know land for grabs can make men greedy. Is it possible someone is trying to intimidate the settlers into giving up their land?”
Clint’s expression hardened. “It’s happened before.”
“What’re you gonna do, Sheriff?” Ramsey asked.
“Simple. Lars and I will investigate the Chaucers. We’ll set up watch on their spreads and track their movements.” He lifted his gaze to Gideon’s. “We start tonight.”
* * *
Eyes downcast, Evelyn stirred a drop of honey into the fragrant tea, set the spoon aside and lifted the delicate china cup to her lips. Alice’s fine dishes brought to mind the floral china set her mother-in-law had given her as a wedding present. They’d had to leave many valuable goods behind in Virginia, bringing only what was necessary and unlikely to be broken on the long, arduous trip out to Oklahoma. Although she knew it was foolish, she missed the comforts of a real home.
Across the table, Alice replaced her cup in its rose-emblazoned saucer. “I wish we didn’t have to wait for the men to return to have a slice of pie. The smell is killing me.”