A Kiss for Cade

by Lori Copeland

  “No more. It’s way past bedtime.”

  Holly and Missy showered Cade’s cheeks with kisses. “It’s the best dance we ever went to,” Holly proclaimed. “The very best!”

  The girls scampered off to bed, humming the strains of “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” under their breaths.

  Will shuffled off toward the kitchen, grumbling, “I hate dancing with Brody.”

  Brody shoved him on his way out. “I hate dancing with you too.”

  “Boys, stop bickering. I’ll be in shortly to hear your prayers.”

  Reaching for the candle, Zoe turned to Cade. “I left clean sheets beside the cot.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her face burned as his gaze skimmed her. “Good night.”

  She let Butch and Romeo out and then listened to the boys’ prayers, touched when they asked God to make their Uncle Cade stay. The girls’ prayers were the same. It was too late to worry about them getting attached to him.

  They already were.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Pulling the sheet closer, Zoe closed her eyes. Tonight was the first time since Jim’s death that she felt alive. The laughter, the winded fun had been missing ingredients in her life. Like cake batter without baking powder, her life had fallen when her husband died. Jim’s familiar face swam behind her closed lids. Boyish, not strikingly handsome, but solid. His compassion for others shone through his doe-brown eyes. She loved this good, faithful man. Guilt crept into her consciousness. But did you love him the way you love…loved Cade? She’d been a different person then, an idealist, so certain that Cade was the man God had destined for her that she never questioned the one night she had set her values aside. But sin had a price. It always did. God had forgiven her because she’d asked him to, but sin had a way of seeking payback long after the act was over.

  The faint sound of music drifted from the mercantile. Holly. The child was fascinated with the phonograph.

  Zoe checked the pallet Holly slept on. The little girl sighed in her sleep and rolled to her side.

  Sliding out of bed, Zoe slipped into her robe. She peered around the bedroom door and saw a flickering light in the mercantile. Had she forgotten to snuff a candle?

  “Cade,” she called softly. When he didn’t answer, she quietly left the bedroom and padded into the store. There wasn’t one candle burning; there were several.

  He’s lit every candle I own!

  Inside the doorway, a strong arm caught her around the waist and pulled her into the room.

  “I believe this is our dance.”

  She struggled to free herself from his grasp, his low voice affecting her good sense. “Aren’t you worn out from dancing with all your ‘women’?”

  Drawing her closer, he whispered, “Ah, fair lady, I have yet to dance with the prettiest one of all.”

  She wrenched free and wet her fingers, extinguishing a candle. He stopped her.

  “You still look beautiful in candlelight, Red.”

  Dear Lord, this is so unfair. Help me! Candlelight only made him more handsome.

  “And still as feisty.”

  She squirmed against his embrace but her struggles were in vain. Giving in, she settled into his arms like an old friend. His warm breath brushed her temple as their feet slowly matched the strains of a waltz. What was she doing? She was a widow and mourning the death of her best friend.

  But this was Cade. The one man who had ever given real meaning to her life.

  Forgive me, Jim, Addy. One dance. One impossible moment to shred this awful mantle of grief and responsibility.

  He smelled clean and soapy. Her fingers itched to touch his hair, but she didn’t. Once she touched him, she would never stop. Everything about him was familiar, and so hopelessly wrong.

  Resting her head on his chest, she listened to his steady heartbeat. “Why didn’t you come back?”

  “When I rode out that day, I had every intention of doing just that.”

  “But you didn’t. What do you want from me? You’ve already won the children’s hearts. Can’t you let me be?”

  His hold tightened. Not improperly, but certainly with a sense of possession. “It’s one dance together. Why do you interpret my every move as significant? If it weren’t for Addy, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Do you think that I don’t know that?”

  “You know what I mean. Once I heard you were married, I made up my mind to forget you.”

  “Well, a woman can’t hear that enough.”

  “Did I say I forgot you? I made up my mind to, but it didn’t happen. I thought about you every day.”

  Her eyes closed, and she struggled with emotions. Love. Hate. Resignation.

  Fear.

  Did he remember every breath, every word, and every vow they’d exchanged? She did.

  His breath brushed her ear. “We were so young, Red. Our lives are different now. If I could turn back time, I would.”

  “It’s never too late. Give up bounty-hunting and become the children’s guardian. Raise Addy’s kids.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “You have all the money you could ever need. Can’t you find it in your heart to make a home for your nieces and nephews? That’s what Addy desperately wanted.”

  “No.” He paused, shifting her to meet his eyes. “That wasn’t her sole purpose for getting me back here.”

  She looked away. “I know what she was doing, but she loved you, and she wanted the best for you and her children.”

  “You think a bounty hunter is an ideal choice for fatherhood?”

  Their feet fell back in step with the music. Their gazes locked in the flickering candlelight. “Listen to me, Red. I could give it up right now, this moment, and nothing would change. I’ll always have to guard my back. Do you think I want that for Addy’s kids? Do you want them to have to watch their backs too? The enemies I deal with don’t give a rat’s nest. They’d just as soon gun the kids down as they would me.”

  Sickened, she jerked away. “Killing. You’re whole adult life you’ve been immersed in killing.”

  “That’s what bounty-hunting’s about. Occasionally it requires killing for the better good. Read your Bible, Red. God doesn’t coddle evil. Would it make sense to you if I wore a badge?” He shook his head. “I’d be looked up to then, wouldn’t I, and be considered a hero by many. Why does a piece of tin make what a marshal does right and the lack of it make what I do wrong? I’ve killed many a man, but I’ve never murdered anyone.”

  Zoe’s fists balled in anger. The life he chose was one that would eventually destroy him. Couldn’t he see that? He was being given a chance to change his ways. And he refused.

  She turned to go, suddenly unable to breathe. The situation was hopeless. When would she accept that he was a man who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, be tied down?

  Pausing in the doorway, she said quietly, “I hope you leave soon.”

  He set his jaw. “As soon as my work is done.”

  Pugnacious. The man was hopeless.

  Chapter Twenty

  Monday morning Zoe was in the kitchen ironing Mrs. Penscott’s petticoats when she heard the tinkling bell over the front door. Gracie ran through the store and into the back rooms, breathlessly blurting out, “Have you heard? Pop broke his leg.”

  Mouth agape, Zoe set the iron on the stove. “When?”

  “Saturday night at the dance. I thought maybe someone told you at church yesterday. Lawrence and I missed the service. His gout was acting up.”

  “No one said a thing, but I left right after the sermon. The kids were eager to get back. Cade took them fishing. What happened?”

  Gracie snickered. “Pop allemanded left when he should have allemanded right. He took poor Clara Simms down with him.”

  Zoe’s hand flew to her mouth to cover her amusement. The mental image of Pop and the puritanical Sunday school teacher sprawled in the middle of the dance floor leaped into her mind.

  “Was she hu
rt?”

  “Just embarrassed. Her crinoline flew up over her head and got hooked on that silly comb she always wears. It took two of us to get it untangled.” Gracie dumped her packages on the table and helped herself to lemonade. “Pop didn’t know he’d broken anything until he tried to get up. With Doc out of town, nobody knew what to do except Sawyer. He’d set many an animal’s leg, so he put the bone back in place, steadied Pop’s leg with a couple of splints, and bound up everything securely.”

  Zoe walked to the front window of the store and looked up the street to the jail. “The kids and Cade went over early this morning to see Pop. I’m surprised they haven’t come back and told me.”

  “They’re probably too busy waiting on him. You know Pop. He likes attention.”

  “Don’t all men?” Zoe stripped off her apron as she hurried behind the counter. “I’ll take him some nut bread. That should make him feel better.”

  Gracie sat down and propped her feet on a nearby stool. “I’m going to sit here and finish my lemonade.” She shuddered and puckered her lips. “Great day, it’s tart. You out of sugar?”

  “Just running a bit low. While you’re at it, finish the ironing.” Zoe slipped two loaves of sweet bread into a wicker basket and covered them with a towel.

  “The kids are attached to Cade’s hip,” Gracie mused as Zoe scurried past her. “You see one, you see the other.”

  “I know. That’s what worries me.” Walking out the door, she called over her shoulder, “Watch the store for me. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Crossing the street, she spotted Will running from post to post, ripping down wanted posters.

  “Will,” she hollered, “what are you doing?”

  The boy hung his head and shielded the evidence behind his back as she approached. “Nuthin’.”

  “You’re doing something.” Zoe tried to see around him. “What’s that behind your back?”

  “Nuthin’.”

  “Will?”

  He twisted the toe of his shoe in the dirt.

  “William Wiseman?”

  He slowly brought out the posters from behind him and handed them to her. Her brows lifted in question. “What’s this all about? You know better than to destroy public property.”

  Teary-eyed, he jutted out his bottom lip. “If there wasn’t any bad guys wanted, Uncle Cade would stay here with us.”

  Her shoulders dropped. She knelt to console him. His wrenching sobs broke her heart.

  “He told…us…he…had…to go get…a bad guy. That’s…why…he can’t…keep us.”

  Anger surfaced. Cade could have been a little more tactful. She’d like to wring his neck like a Sunday chicken!

  “Even if he does go, he’ll come back.”

  “No, he won’t,” Will sobbed. “Mama said he’s hard to pin down.”

  Zoe took the towel off the sweet bread and used it to dab at the little boy’s tears. “Well, let’s not worry about it now. Uncle Cade is here, and I don’t think he’s going after bad guys any time soon. Now, I want you to take these posters to Pop and tell him you’re sorry for pulling them down.”

  Nodding, Will sobered.

  “That’s my sweet boy.” She kissed his cheek and watched proudly as he marched into the jail, carrying the posters.

  After folding the cloth, she laid it in the basket and slowly followed him, giving Will time to complete his apology before she arrived.

  A few minutes later, she let herself into the jail. It was so crowded, there was barely standing room. Two tittering young ladies had cornered Cade. She did a double take. Judy Farnsworth? When had she started dressing like a strumpet? Zoe wondered if Judy’s mother knew she was out in public in that garb.

  She recognized the striking brunette with Judy as Lilith Wilks’s niece, Susan Tetherton. Just a short time ago, Susan had been in pigtails and overalls, playing marbles with the boys.

  Well, her mind wasn’t on marbles today.

  Forcing a smile, Zoe got a grip on her emotions as Susan said, “Cade Kolby, I’ve heard about you all my life, but Aunt Lilith never told me you were so downright handsome.” Susan leaned in close, smiling.

  A silly giggle escaped Judy’s painted lips. “Told you, Susan. Told you he was tall and positively breathtaking.”

  Zoe glanced at Pop and the children, who were sitting behind his desk, gorging themselves on cookies.

  “Hi, Zoe,” Brody called. “Want a cookie? Judy and Susan baked them for Uncle Cade. They’re good.”

  Closing the door, Zoe set the basket on the corner of the desk next to Pop’s propped-up leg. “Brody, don’t talk with your mouth full.” She glanced at Pop sympathetically. “How are you doing?”

  “Ain’t worth a plug nickel.”

  “Did Will apologize for taking down the posters?”

  “Yep.” Pop laughed, ruffling the boy’s hair. “He sure likes his uncle. Can’t see the attraction myself. How ’bout you?”

  Missy hopped off of Pop’s lap. “Zoe, my belly huwts again.”

  Cade excused himself from the young women and, grinning, scooped Missy up onto his shoulder. “Before Zoe gets mad at us, tell her I said only one cookie.”

  “He did. He did, Zoe,” Holly confirmed. “I only got one too.”

  “Brody had four,” Will said.

  The accused hung his head, withholding comment.

  Pop lifted his splinted leg and eased it to the floor. “They’ll live. Here, Zoe, try a piece of Lilith’s rhubarb pie. Woman talks a lot, but she sure can bake.”

  Zoe smiled. “I thought you’d have sworn off pie by now.”

  Judy and Susan flashed dimpled smiles toward Cade. Their fresh beauty and bouncing curls were a sharp contrast to Zoe’s faded calico dress and wayward hair, frizzed from leaning over a washboard doing never-ending laundry. Her gaze shifted to Cade, wondering if he was making the same comparison.

  She turned back to Pop. “I won’t stay. I just wanted to check on you. I thought you might enjoy some of my nut bread.”

  “That’s real hospitable of you.” He leaned forward and sniffed the basket. “You gotta try some of this, Cade. She makes the best nut bread in town.”

  “I use applesauce in all my baking instead of sugar.” At least these days she did.

  “Sugar or applesauce, whatever you use, it’s the best bread I’ve ever eaten.” Pop helped himself to a second slice.

  Cade reached over and accepted a piece. “You don’t have to convince me. I eat her cooking.”

  Loud voices erupted outside the jail.

  Pop tried to get up but fell back in his chair. “What in the tarnation’s going on out there?”

  The door flew open, and Zoe saw Cade’s right hand automatically go for his gun even as his left hand moved her to safety behind him.

  A short man, white-faced and grimy with dust, burst through the doorway, barely able to talk. “The stage has been robbed!” Catching his breath, he collapsed onto the nearest chair. “Four men. Looked like the Nelson gang, but cain’t be sure.” The man dropped his head and covered his face with hands that trembled like leaves in a storm. Zoe’s stunned gaze moved to his skinned and bleeding knuckles and torn shirt.

  “Good grief, Troy!” Pop exclaimed.

  “Anyone killed?” Cade stepped to the door, where his eyes swept Main Street.

  “No, but we shore thought we were goners.” Troy Becker accepted a cup of water from Zoe, nodding his thanks.

  She glanced outside to see a group of curious onlookers converging on the jail. “You’re about to have more company, Pop.”

  “Has something happened to the stage?” Walt Mews asked. “I saw it coming into town like a scalded cat. My shipment of hair tonic from Boston is on it.”

  “It ain’t no more.” The stage driver got up, set his cup on the desk, and looked wild eyed at Walt. “It’s gone, along with Mrs. Bradshaw’s yard goods.”

  Zoe groaned. “Oh, no. The whole shipment?”

  “It ain’t my fault. They
come outta nowhere!” Troy exclaimed. “Never saw nothin’ like it!”

  Cade stepped forward. “Exactly what happened, Troy?”

  “I was approachin’ Rider’s Pass when all of a sudden, here they come. First I thought it was Injuns, the way they were whoopin’ and hollerin’, but then I seen they was white men. They grabbed the money sack and, before they left, took every bottle of your tonic, Walt, poured it all over Mrs. Bradshaw’s cloth, and smashed the bottles. Didn’t see the sense of that—but that’s what they did. You never saw such a mess in all your born days.”

  Zoe took hope. “You mean my shipment is still out there in the road?” Maybe she could salvage part of it. She had to salvage part of it. It meant financial ruin if she didn’t.

  The driver met her expectant expression. “You could say that.”

  Cade frowned. “What do you mean? Is it there or not?”

  “It’s there, all right, but I don’t think she’d want it. The horses didn’t take kindly to the stink of that tonic. They got all excited and…” His face turned crimson. “I hate to tell you, but that ain’t all they did on it.”

  “Oh, dear.” Heartsick, Zoe sank onto a chair. This was the end. Without the money the yard goods would bring, she was bankrupt.

  Cade frowned. “Is the fabric that important to you, Red?”

  “Most important,” she admitted, hoping her desperate tone didn’t reveal her financial woes.

  Struggling to get out of his chair, Pop fumed, “Just when something excitin’ happens, I got a broken leg and can’t do a thing about it.”

  “Stay where you are, Pop.” Cade reached for his hat. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Cade!” Zoe protested, following him to the gun cabinet. The men in the Nelson gang were hardened criminals. She reminded herself that he was used to chasing outlaws across the country, but she wasn’t used to witnessing it firsthand.

  “Better send someone out there to clean up the mess,” Pop warned. “Don’t let the trail get cold before you form a posse.”

  Cade glanced at Zoe. “I’ll be gone a while. You’d better take the kids home and stay there in case there’s trouble.”