“Of course. Of course.” Reverend Adair motioned for Todd to come stand beside him. “God go with you, Matthew.”
“Thank you, sir.”
When Matthew stepped outside a few moments later, he said a quick prayer. Where had Shannon gone, if not home? Into town? He didn’t think it likely. To call upon a woman friend perhaps? Who would that be? Alice had been her closest—and perhaps only—friend in Grand Coeur. To the dress shop to cancel her wedding gown? Even that seemed improbable.
His gaze was drawn to the north. She would want to be alone. At least he would if he were in her shoes. He set off, following the road out of town and into the mountains.
Help me find her, Lord. Help me explain.
Explain? He wasn’t sure an explanation would help anything. He had to convince her of his true feelings, the ones he hadn’t been smart enough to recognize until it was too late.
Almost too late, he amended silently. He wasn’t giving up yet. Almost too late.
With long strides, he followed the road until he reached the trees.
Only then did he slow his pace. He wanted to shout her name, but he was afraid she wouldn’t answer him if he did. Worse, she might try to hide herself. He couldn’t risk it. He had to find her, had to convince her of his love. For the more he thought about it, the more he realized he couldn’t imagine life without her by his side.
Alice knew. He stopped for a moment, mulling this new revelation. Alice knew I loved Shannon.
No wonder his sister had urged him to propose. It hadn’t been for the sake of her son alone. It had been for Matthew’s sake as well. Just like she’d said.
He moved on, raking the forest with his gaze. If Shannon had come into the mountains, if he’d chosen the right road, he could still miss her. Her dress, as he recalled, was the same color as the mule deer that populated these mountains, a perfect shade for blending in with nature.
And then he saw her, sitting on the ground about ten or fifteen yards above the road, her back against a tree. Her knees were drawn up to her chest beneath her gown, and she hugged her legs with her arms, her face buried in the folds of her skirt at her knees.
I’m the cause of her sadness.
He moved up the incline toward her. When a twig snapped beneath his boot, he heard a small gasp of surprise as she raised her head. There was no welcome in her eyes when she saw who it was.
He stopped. “Shannon, we need to talk.”
“Please go away.” She scrambled to her feet.
“We can’t leave things like this.”
“Of course we can.” She looked around, as if she thought she might find a way of escape, a place where he could not follow.
She wouldn’t find such a place. He’d follow her to hell and back if that’s what it took to convince her he wanted her as his wife, convince her of his love.
“Please go away,” she repeated. She headed for the road, giving him a wide berth.
Matthew turned and followed. “Look, Shannon. Maybe you’re right about why I proposed in the first place. But only because I hadn’t had a chance to recognize what I felt for you. How could I? Alice was sick and I had a new job and I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
She didn’t reply except to quicken her pace.
“Shannon, please.”
Up ahead of them, a horse and buggy trotted into view from the other side of a small rise in the road.
Shannon raised her right arm and called out, “Wait!” Then she broke into a run. “Mr. Burkette! Wait!”
Recognizing the driver of the buggy at the same time Shannon called his name, Matthew came to a halt, a curse word rising in his throat. He swallowed it back.
Joe Burkette stopped the horse and waited for Shannon to reach him. Matthew couldn’t hear what she said, but Burkette nodded and gave her a hand into the buggy. Then he turned the horse around and headed back in the direction of Grand Coeur.
Matthew could learn to hate that man.
30
Once again, Delaney Adair found himself praying on behalf of his only child. In the course of the past twenty-five years, he had come to believe that God gave people children equally as much for what the children would teach their parents as for what the parents would teach their children. And being a father had certainly kept Delaney on his knees, depending upon God’s help and guidance.
No matter how many times or how many ways he’d asked Shannon to tell him what happened between her and Matthew, she only shook her head, refusing to answer.
“Lord, was I wrong to give my consent to Matthew? Is he not the man I thought him?”
That was difficult to believe. No, Delaney was quite sure Matthew was a decent man and that his daughter loved him. He was also certain Matthew was trying to mend whatever rift had torn the two young people apart. He’d come to the parsonage on three separate occasions, asking to see Shannon. She’d refused to see him every time.
“She can be stubborn, Lord.” He released a humorless chuckle.
“As can I.”
If Adelyn were still alive, she would be able to find a way to make Shannon open up to her. Alas, she wasn’t still alive. Delaney would have to try harder, pray more, listen better.
“I’m not giving up,” Matthew said to Jack. “I’m going to change her mind about marrying me if it takes a month of Sundays to do it.”
The sheriff leaned back in his desk chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “I believe you will.”
“If she’d just listen to me. If she’d just give me five minutes.”
“Never pictured you the sort to moon over a woman.”
“Never pictured it myself.”
“You know what you need? A few days away. Give her a chance to realize she misses you.”
Matthew grunted. What good would going away do? She wasn’t missing him now.
“Did you know there’s a big shipment of treasure going down to Boise City on Monday?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Hadn’t heard. I haven’t been into the office this week.”
“Well, it isn’t general knowledge. Good to know the word hasn’t gotten out. The stage is due in tomorrow night from Idaho City, then it’ll head south on Monday morning.”
Matthew waited. His friend wasn’t given to talk for talk’s sake, so there had to be a point to telling him this.
“Bill Washburn asked me yesterday if my deputy could ride along.
Wells, Fargo has a messenger riding along, of course, but Bill’s anxious about it. I can’t spare Horace right now. Tempers have been rising right along with the temperatures, and it seems like more troublemakers arrive in Grand Coeur every week.” He motioned with his head toward the jail in the back of the sheriff ’s office. “Our cells are full up this morning.”
Matthew nodded.
“Maybe you could go along on Monday as an extra guard.”
“You’re forgetting my nephew. I can’t just take off the way I used to.”
“You’d be back Tuesday morning. You could find someone to look after the boy until then. What about that gal you’ve got cooking for you? ”
“Sun Ling? She’s already doing more than I hired her to do.”
“He could stay with Bill for a night.”
“I don’t know. Bill’s never been much on kids.” Matthew rubbed the back of his neck. It might be good to go. Take his mind off his troubles with Shannon. Maybe give him a fresh perspective.
“Or what about the reverend and Miss Adair? She might be mad at you, but sure as shootin’ she still cares about that boy.”
Matthew sat straighter in his chair. His friend might have hit upon something there. Might be the best thing in the world, leaving his nephew in Shannon’s care. Maybe God would use Todd to bring Matthew and Shannon back together.
He stood. “I’ll see what I can arrange, Jack. I’ll let you know.”
He left the sheriff ’s office feeling more hopeful than he’d felt since Shannon broke their engagement. His feet carrie
d him straight to the express office. Fortunately, no customers were there when he arrived, so he and William could talk plainly. “Jack told me about the special shipment coming in tomorrow.”
“Yeah, and I don’t figure I’ll draw a decent breath until they get here from Idaho City, and then I’ll feel the same way after they leave the next morning.”
“How about if I go along as an extra guard for the trip down to Boise?” Matthew said.
“You? Messengin’ again?”
“Why not? I’m almost as good pointing a rifle and shotgun as I am holding the reins.”
“What about the boy?”
“I think I can arrange for someone to keep Todd for one trip.”
“If you can, maybe I could relax a little.”
Dearest Katie,
The wedding is off. I have broken my engagement to Matthew Dubois. It seems he only wanted a woman to care for his nephew, and he thought I was the best choice.
I know you would tell me that many a good marriage has begun for similar reasons—a widower needing someone to care for his children—and that many of those marriages turn into happy ones. Maybe I am silly and selfish. But I want to be loved the way that I love. Is that so very wrong, my dear friend?
I’ve told myself a thousand times that I no longer love Matthew, but that isn’t true. I do love him. I can’t stop loving him, and my heart is breaking. Today I wanted to plead with Father to take me back to Virginia. I thought I could be happy here, but I cannot. Not now. Sometimes I think I will never be happy again.
Matthew has asked Father and me to keep Todd while he takes a stagecoach down to Boise City on Monday morning. Father agreed to do it without asking my opinion. I would have refused. I don’t think I can bear the reminder of what was to be.
Oh, Katie. Whatever am I to do? How I wish I could see you and talk to you and ask your thoughts. My heart was wounded when Benjamin was killed on the battlefield. But this is worse. Much worse.
Your devoted friend,
Shannon Adair
Shannon folded the letter to her friend and was slipping it into the envelope when a soft rap sounded on her bedroom door. “Yes, Father,” she said, twisting on the chair.
The door opened a few inches. “May I come in?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you told me what’s caused the trouble between you and Matthew?”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Wounds exposed to the light heal more quickly.”
“I’m sorry, Father.” She looked down at the envelope on the writing desk. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”
“I have the feeling he will keep trying to see you, Shannon. He doesn’t seem inclined to give up easily.”
“I hope you’re wrong.”
“Do you, my girl? I’m not convinced. Whatever he said or did, he seems determined to make it up to you. If what he’s done is a matter of integrity, then that’s one thing. But if it’s merely your hurt pride that is keeping you from hearing him out, that is keeping you from healing the rift between you, that is something else again. Pride is cold comfort, dear girl.”
She nodded, fighting tears, and was glad when she heard him take a step back and close the door.
31
The driver of the stage, Levi Jefferson, was about ten years older than Matthew, a man with leathered skin and a smile that revealed two missing teeth. Although they’d never met before, they knew each other by reputation. What Matthew had heard about Levi, he liked. And when he learned that the stage was carrying 250 pounds of gold bullion out of Idaho City—at the current rate of exchange, the treasure was valued at over a million dollars—he was even more glad for a seasoned driver holding the reins. No wonder the transport had been kept secret. No wonder William had been nervous and anxious for another guard.
Matthew would have liked it better if they could have made the trip down to Boise City without passengers. But if they hadn’t allowed passengers, it might have drawn attention. Better not to do that. Wells, Fargo had announced this as a route change, nothing more. The stage shouldn’t be at any more risk than any other coach leaving one of the gold camps—and that risk had been high for a long time.
Matthew stood back and watched as six paying passengers climbed into the coach for the journey down to the capital of the territory. Next, the messenger, Barclay Jones—a lad of about eighteen or twenty who looked like his smooth skin had yet to feel a blade scraping off facial hair—climbed onto the roof of the coach, leaving the seat next to Levi for Matthew.
Had he ever been as green as that kid looked? he wondered as he settled into place.
“All right, folks,” Levi called to the passengers. “Hold tight.”
With his left hand, Matthew gripped the double-barreled shotgun that rested on his thighs as Levi slapped the reins against the horses’ backsides. The coach jerked forward. Levi kept the horses to a jog until they were out of town. Then he asked for speed, and they gave it. Dust rose in a cloud from the bone-dry road. The coach rocked and bucked, familiar and strange at the same time.
“I heard you were gettin’ married,” Levi said in a loud voice.
“I’m planning to.” If I can change the bride’s mind.
“Gonna give up drivin’ coach altogether?”
He rolled the question over in his mind, examining it from every side before answering, “Yeah, I reckon I will.”
“Don’t think I could stay in one place for long. I like my freedom. Unfettered.”
“That’s what I thought when I took the agent position for the summer.” He looked at the driver. “Being unfettered doesn’t seem all that important to me anymore. I discovered I like being part of a family.”
He recalled coming home from the express office and sitting down to supper with Alice and Todd—and sometimes with Shannon. It had been good. He’d liked it. Home. Family. Wife. Kids. They’d always seemed right for others but not for him.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Shannon pressed her face against Ginny’s neck and fought another wave of tears, determined not to cry in front of Todd, who waited for her outside the livery stall.
“Shannon, we need to talk.”
How she longed to talk to Matthew. How she missed the sound of his voice.
“We can’t leave things like this.”
Had she been wrong to walk away? To run away? No, he should have told her he didn’t love her when he proposed. He should have admitted that it was a marriage of convenience, for the sake of his nephew.
“I do love you.”
She couldn’t stop the tears now. They tracked down her cheeks and dampened the bay’s coat.
“I hadn’t had a chance to recognize what I felt for you . . . I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
“Neither have I,” she whispered.
Ginny nickered softly.
“I do love you . . . Shannon, please.”
Her pulse quickened.
“I do love you . . . Shannon, please.”
The memory of her father’s words replaced Matthew’s. “But if it’s merely your hurt pride that is keeping you from hearing him out, that is keeping you from healing the rift between you, that is something else again.”
But it wasn’t only hurt pride . . . Was it?
“Pride is cold comfort, dear girl.”
She straightened away from the horse. “What have I done? Why didn’t I listen to Matthew?”
Pride. Oh, her cursed pride. Her father was right. If only— “What are you doing, boy?” Joe Burkette’s voice cut into her private thoughts, the tone sharp and demanding. “Get that dog out of here.”
Shannon wiped away her tears before stepping out of the stall.
“Todd and Nugget are with me, Mr. Burkette.”
A smile replaced his scowl. “Miss Adair. I didn’t know it was you.” If he noticed she’d been crying, he didn’t let on.
Joe had come to her rescue the previ
ous week when she’d needed to escape Matthew, but that hadn’t made her like him any more than before. Still, as long as she needed to board her horse in his stables, she would have to get used to seeing him.
“There is good news out of Richmond,” he said. “Have you heard?”
She shook her head.
“Last week, General Early broke through the Union forces southeast of Frederick, Maryland, and his troops entered the District of Columbia. They had to withdraw the next night, but I predict the general will go on harassing the Yankees for some time to come.”
Why didn’t the news make her happy? It was obvious Joe thought it should. And he was right. It should. It would have not all that long ago. Now all she could think about was that people were suffering, many were dying, on both sides of the conflict.
Joe took a step closer, lowering his voice, implying his words were confidential. “There should be more good news for the Confederacy today. Money, and lots of it. Gold for guns and ammunition and food. It could help turn the tide of the war.”
Shannon felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach—and once again wondered why what Joe had said didn’t bring her pleasure.
“We should know soon enough.” He glanced toward the main entrance into the stables. “Shouldn’t be long.”
Shannon reached with one hand to close the stall door, then held out her other hand toward the boy. “We’d best go, Todd. Father will be wondering what’s keeping us so long.” Glancing again at Joe, she said, “Good day, Mr. Burkette.”
They walked outside, into the bright morning light. Already the July sun was hot. At the parsonage, a shady spot on the porch awaited them. But instead of setting off in the direction of the church, she continued down Montgomery Street into the heart of town.
“I thought we were goin’ to your house,” Todd said.
“We are. I just . . . I just need to see someone first.”
“Who?”
Who, indeed. But that niggling feeling wouldn’t leave her, and she realized she wanted—needed—to see Matthew.
Heart of Gold Page 21