A Stolen Heart

by Amanda Cabot

  Though Lydia did not doubt the truth of Edgar’s story, one point bothered her. “It doesn’t take four months for bones to heal.” Even a bad break mended in two. Why had Edgar stayed away so long?

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “The problem was, even though I could walk again, I didn’t know who I was or why someone would try to kill me. The rancher wanted to talk to the sheriff, but I wouldn’t let him. At first I couldn’t explain why, but I knew there was a reason lawmen couldn’t get involved.” He gave Travis an apologetic look before he turned back to Opal.

  She gripped his hand and pulled it to her lips, pressing a kiss on it. “Oh, my dearest, how awful! I knew you were alive. I was sure of it. But I never dreamt of anything like this.”

  “So when did you recover your memory?” Travis asked. Though the question was casual, Lydia heard a measure of skepticism in his voice. Like her, Travis was bothered by the length of time Edgar had been gone. Unlike Opal, neither she nor Travis was completely convinced by Edgar’s tale.

  “It came in bits and pieces.” Based on what Lydia had read about head injuries, that sounded plausible. “One day I remembered seeing several feet of snow on the ground and getting into a fight near a tavern.”

  “Syracuse.” If he’d asked, Lydia could have given Edgar the exact date.

  “Yes.” He turned back to Opal, who seemed puzzled by the name. Had Edgar not mentioned the town where he’d lived? “I’ll explain later,” he told her before facing Travis. “Other memories came back, but I still had no idea what my name was or where I’d been living. Then one day I slipped on a muddy patch of ground and fell, hitting my head again.” Edgar looked at Travis, as if challenging him to believe his story. “It was like that shook up everything inside and put it back in the right place.” His face softened as he shifted his gaze to Opal. “That’s when I remembered you and the baby.”

  Lydia had been watching Travis’s face and realized his skepticism had not faded, though hers had. Edgar’s story was close enough to what she’d read about recovery from head injuries that she believed it. “I’ve heard of things like that,” she told Travis.

  He raised an eyebrow when he turned to Edgar. “I suppose if I talk to this rancher, he’d corroborate your story.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Edgar sounded surprised, perhaps because he’d once told Lydia that he valued honesty. He’d broken his promises to her, and it appeared he hadn’t told Opal everything about his past, but this story rang true.

  When Travis bristled, Lydia decided to intervene. “It’s Travis’s job to question everything and verify the truth.”

  Edgar nodded. “I see. He’s Silas Lockhart of the Sleeping L ranch. That’s half a day’s ride from here. The place he found me was only about two hours from Cimarron Creek, but no one would have seen me unless they were looking.”

  Travis scribbled the information on his pad. “All right. I’ll check with him. I’ll be honest. What concerns me more than your whereabouts for the last four months is who was behind the attack.”

  Edgar’s story left no doubt that it hadn’t been a random attack. As Lydia and Travis had surmised previously, Edgar had been targeted. The question was, by whom and, though Travis did not say it, whether it was the same man who’d raped Opal.

  “Do you remember anything that would help identify your assailant?” Travis asked.

  Edgar shrugged. “It was a man. A strong one. That’s all I remember.”

  Though she’d remained silent, gripping her husband’s hand, Opal whimpered, making Lydia wonder whether she was remembering her own attack.

  Travis continued his interrogation. “What about the note? Did you recognize the handwriting?”

  This time Edgar shook his head. “Looked ordinary. Plain paper, careful printing.”

  “Printing?” Though Travis was conducting the investigation, Lydia couldn’t help interjecting her question.

  “Yes. Nice and neat, though. Not like a child.”

  Of course not. An adult had been responsible.

  “Do you still have the note?” Travis asked.

  Edgar shook his head again. “I put it in my pocket, but when I woke up in the field, it was gone.”

  Lydia wasn’t surprised, and she suspected Travis wasn’t either. The man who’d attacked Edgar wouldn’t have wanted to leave any traces. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to take Edgar away from Cimarron Creek, but he couldn’t have been certain that the blows to Edgar’s head would result in amnesia or that he would die from his injuries.

  Travis gave Edgar a long look, then nodded briskly. “I need to talk to Lockhart, but I’m inclined to believe you. If you remember anything else about the night you were attacked, let me know.”

  “I’d be glad to, Sheriff, but I won’t be here. Opal and I are leaving before sunset. I need to find a place where she and the baby will be safe.”

  Surprise filled Opal’s green eyes. “You think we’re in danger?”

  “Now that I’m back, yes. When whoever tried to kill me realizes he didn’t succeed, he might try again. I can’t take the risk that he’ll hurt you too.” Edgar drew Opal to her feet and stroked her cheek. “Pack whatever you want to take. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

  Travis shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.”

  “I don’t see how you can stop me, short of putting me over there.” Edgar pointed to the town’s solitary jail cell. “You don’t have any reason to arrest me.”

  “You’re right.” A frown accompanied Travis’s admission. “But I wish you’d reconsider.”

  “I’ve got to keep Opal safe.” He turned back to Opal. “I’ll go to the Spur with you, but first I need a moment alone with Lydia.”

  Lydia wasn’t certain who was more surprised by Edgar’s declaration: herself, Opal, or Travis. What did Edgar want to say that he needed privacy? Though Lydia had once had dozens of questions for him, they no longer seemed important. Travis appeared almost bemused, and Opal’s reluctance to let her husband out of her sight even for a moment was palpable.

  As the door closed, leaving her alone with Edgar, Lydia spoke. “I’m sorry for all you’ve gone through.”

  He appeared relieved that she had initiated the conversation. “I thought you might believe I deserved it after what I did.”

  “No one deserves what happened to you.”

  “Thank you for saying that, but I know I hurt you. I didn’t plan to do that.” Edgar’s hands tightened into fists. “I loved you, Lydia. I hope you know that.”

  Loved. Past tense. It was what she had suspected. Lydia nodded, as much to encourage Edgar to continue as to convey her understanding.

  “When I met Opal, I realized that I loved you like a sister or friend, not the way a man should love his wife. What I feel for Opal is different—deeper and stronger.” Edgar’s voice rang with sincerity. “Can you ever forgive me for not being honest enough to tell you the truth in enough time to save you the trip out here?”

  “I already have.” How could she blame Edgar when she’d discovered that what she felt for him was a mere shadow of her feelings for Travis? She wasn’t sure where—if anywhere—those feelings were headed, but Lydia knew they were deeper than any she had ever had for Edgar.

  She nodded slowly as she faced the man she had once thought would be her husband. “I’ll admit I was hurt, but Cimarron Creek has become my home. I believe that coming here was part of God’s plan for me.”

  As the lines of tension faded from Edgar’s face, Lydia laid her hand on his cheek. It was a gesture of farewell and, at the same time, warning. “You were right to marry Opal, but you’re wrong if you think leaving here will solve anything. Edgar, it’s time for you to stop running away.”

  21

  What did you say to get him so riled?” Travis looked at Lydia, surprised that while Edgar was marching down the street, his anger apparent in the long strides that forced Opal to practically run to keep up with him, Lydia appeared perfectly calm. He’d
worried that she might have been upset by the reunion with the man she’d expected to marry, but instead she appeared relieved.

  Travis drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting his own relief settle over him. Until she’d emerged from the office, he hadn’t realized how tense he’d been during the time Lydia had been alone with Edgar. It had felt like hours, although his watch claimed that only a few minutes had passed while they’d been behind the closed door. Travis had spent that time trying to distract Opal, who was clearly confused about why her husband wanted time alone with her employer. It seemed Edgar had neglected to mention his prior engagement to the woman he married.

  A slight smile tilted the corners of Lydia’s mouth. “I told him it was time to stop running, that he needed to stay and take a stand. If he’d done that in Syracuse, he wouldn’t have spent all this time hiding.”

  Travis nodded, imagining how Edgar—or any man, for that matter—would react to such a message. The implication was that if he left Cimarron Creek, he was a coward. That would be difficult to accept coming from another man, but the fact that it was a woman—and not just any woman, but the one he’d once planned to marry—who’d voiced it made it particularly unpalatable.

  “You’re right,” Travis told Lydia, “but I suspect Edgar disagreed.”

  She tipped her head to one side, the hint of a smile teasing her lips. “He didn’t say anything, but I’ve always heard that actions speak louder than words.” The hint turned into a full-fledged smile as Lydia looked at Edgar’s rapidly retreating back.

  “You know the man better than I do. What could we say to convince him to stay?” The idea of Edgar remaining in town made Travis’s brain begin to spin with possibilities. “I need him here to help flush out his attacker. If he leaves, I may never discover who’s responsible.”

  And Travis couldn’t let that happen. Even if he were wrong and the same man wasn’t responsible for Opal’s rape and Nate’s poisoned goats, the attacker was still a criminal. There was no way of knowing when he might strike again. Travis needed to find that man and put him behind bars to ensure that Cimarron Creek was safe. Or at least safer.

  Lydia’s smile faded. “I don’t believe anything would convince Edgar when he’s in this mood. He’s only thinking about Opal and keeping her safe.” She was silent for a moment before she asked, “Do you think whoever it is will try to hurt Edgar again?”

  Travis shook his head. “Probably not. My guess is he wouldn’t risk another attack on him. Once he realizes Edgar is still alive, he’ll know Edgar will be on his guard. What I’m hoping for is that he might let something slip, especially if Edgar had a reason to be sniffing around.”

  While he and Opal had waited for Edgar and Lydia to emerge from his office, Opal had chattered about how everyone who frequented the Silver Spur respected Edgar and how he’d rarely had to use force, since he’d been able to spot potential fights before they began. At first Travis had only been half listening, but as she continued, his thoughts began to whirl. Edgar’s return might be the answer to one of his prayers.

  Travis raised an eyebrow as he fixed his gaze on Lydia. “How would you like to pay a visit to the Spur? There’s something I need to discuss with Edgar and Opal.”

  Though she looked surprised by the suggestion, Lydia agreed, and five minutes later the four of them were seated in a corner booth, Edgar with his arm wrapped protectively around Opal, Travis and Lydia on the opposite side, a discreet distance between them.

  Travis crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “I’ve got a proposition for you, Edgar. I know you want to keep Opal safe.” The other man nodded, though the suspicion in his eyes did not fade. “As I see it, the only way to do that is to discover who attacked both her and you.”

  Suspicion turned to anger. “Who told you what happened to her?”

  Opal patted the hand that clasped her shoulder. “It’s all right, Edgar. I told Lydia, and she convinced me the sheriff needed to know.”

  As Lydia nodded, the faint scent of lavender teased Travis’s senses. He would have expected the aroma of chocolate to cling to her, but somehow the toilet water was stronger.

  “Travis and I believe the same person was responsible for both attacks,” she told Edgar.

  Though Travis hadn’t expected it, Edgar appeared to accept Lydia’s words. Perhaps it was because he’d known her longer or perhaps it was merely that Opal had rested her head against his shoulder, reminding him of his vow to protect her.

  “We need to find the man.” Travis stared at Edgar, waiting until the other man met his gaze. Though there was still a hint of defiance, it was now mixed with curiosity. “You can run, but you’ll always be looking over your shoulder, wondering if he’s on your trail. And until he’s caught, there’s always the chance that he’ll hurt Opal again. No matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to protect her every minute of every day.”

  As the words registered, Edgar nodded ever so slightly. Travis pressed his advantage. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to stay here and track him down?”

  “How would I do that? No one’s going to answer my questions.”

  “They would if you were my deputy.”

  Edgar’s eyes widened in shock. “You want me to be a deputy?”

  “Yes. Lydia’s been urging me to hire one. She says I can’t handle everything alone, and she’s right. She’s almost always right,” he added, smiling at Lydia. “From everything I’ve heard, you’d be a good deputy.”

  Edgar was silent for a moment, obviously trying to digest the idea. His expression gave no clue to his feelings until he turned to Opal. “What do you think?” The man rose in Travis’s estimation. Few men he knew, including his cousin Porter, would have deferred to their wives.

  The flush that stained Opal’s cheeks told Travis she was both surprised and pleased by being consulted. “I think you’d make a fine deputy.”

  Before Edgar could respond, Travis spoke. “There’s another part to this. A deputy shouldn’t be living above the saloon. No offense to Faith, but it sends the wrong message.” Though the solution he had in mind was only temporary, it might work. “Until you can find the right place for you and your family, I’d like you to move into my house. You’ve probably heard my father’s not the easiest person to live with, but there’s plenty of room.”

  This time Travis had no trouble reading Edgar’s expression. He was hooked, but once again he turned to his wife. “Is that all right with you?”

  Opal nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s more than all right. We’ll be together and away from the saloon. That sounds perfect.”

  Edgar stretched his hand across the table to shake Travis’s. “It seems you’ve got yourself a new deputy.”

  Some might call him impulsive for offering the job to Edgar, but the feeling of rightness that filled him told Travis he’d done well by hiring the man. “While you pack what you want to bring, I’ll tell my father what’s happening. Give me an hour.” It wouldn’t take that long to tell Pa, but the extra time would give his father a chance to cool down.

  “You were quiet back there,” Travis said as he walked Lydia back to the confectionary. “What do you think of my hiring Edgar?”

  “It’s a good idea.” She tipped her head to one side in the gesture he found so endearing. “A year ago I would have scoffed at the thought of Edgar being a lawman, because he was often impulsive, but that was a year ago. He’s changed. You only have to see him with Opal to know that. It’s as plain as can be that he loves her in ways he never loved me.”

  Travis was surprised by her candor. Most women wouldn’t have admitted such a thing, but Lydia wasn’t most women. Perhaps he shouldn’t say anything, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Does that bother you?”

  “No. Even before he returned, I realized he’s not the man for me.”

  Lydia looked up with a smile that made Travis’s pulse race. Was it possible that she’d softened her stance on marriage? And
if she did, what did that mean for him? As much as he wanted to explore both questions, now was not the time. Travis glanced at his watch as he opened the door to the shop for her. “I wish I could stay, but I need to prepare my father for Edgar and Opal’s arrival.”

  “I hope it goes well.”

  It did not.

  Even before Travis had finished his explanation, Pa’s face had turned so red he worried that the man might have an apoplectic attack. “What’s wrong with you, boy?” Pa demanded. “Do you have sawdust instead of a brain? Whatever made you decide to bring a whore and the Cursed Enemy under my roof?”

  Travis took a deep breath. Counting to a hundred wouldn’t help, but maybe a few deep breaths would calm him enough that he could give his father a measured reply rather than an angry retort.

  “First of all,” he said slowly, “Opal’s not a whore. Secondly, Edgar may have been born in the North, but he didn’t fight at Gettysburg or anywhere else. And, thirdly and probably most importantly, this is not your roof. It’s mine.”

  Pa glared at him for a moment. If he expected Travis to back down, he was wrong. Though Travis had spent the years since his mother died trying to placate his father, this was one time when he would not capitulate.

  When the silence grew uncomfortable, Pa pounded his chair arm. “’Pears to me you’re trying to make living here uncomfortable for me. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me to move out.”

  Travis shook his head. “I’d never do that. You’re my father, and you’ll have a home with me as long as you want. All I ask is that you treat Opal and Edgar with civility.”

  Pa continued to glare at him. “You’re asking a lot. It won’t be easy.”

  Nothing with his father was.

  “Edgar’s back and he’s now a deputy.” Catherine made no attempt to hide her surprise when Lydia told her what had happened. Though she should have been making a fresh batch of candy, Lydia hadn’t wanted her friend to hear the news through the grapevine, and so she’d come to Catherine’s house as soon as supper was over. Now they sat in the kitchen, glasses of buttermilk in front of them.