by Jillian Hart
"Pa?" She winced and bowed her head. "There's no need to tell Pa about this. I was only trying to do what was right."
"I will be the judge of that." Eunice Lawson marched out of sight, herding Lila ahead of her and did not look back.
Burke swallowed, wishing he could have more of the soup and hoping Lila didn't get into trouble over helping him. She'd gone out of her way to care for him and few people had done that over the years.
He leaned back into the pillow and closed his eyes, hurting more than usual. Maybe he shouldn't have spoken of the past. It was gone. Nothing, not even God, could change it and it stirred up all sorts of longing for things he'd lost and could never find again.
After what he'd done in his life, no decent woman'no good, kind and gentle woman'was going to be able to love him.
He tried not to listen to the muffled boom of Eunice Lawson's unforgiving voice through the board walls, his sympathy for Lila growing. He didn't wait long for the strike of shoes on the boards or the charge of displeasure in the air as Eunice returned.
"I will not have the town whispering with rumors and speculation behind my back." Eunice towered over him, hands on her broad hips. "All it takes is one hint of unpleasant gossip and customers stop coming in the front door. This store is my husband's livelihood and I will not jeopardize it."
"No, ma'am. I understand." He felt ages old and tired. He felt every sore and stained spot in his soul.
"I know what you are." Her gaze narrowed as if she could see those stains hidden within him. "You are a grown man, twenty-five, twenty-six years old."
"Twenty-four, ma'am." His stomach coiled tight. He knew where this conversation headed. Only one outcome stared him in the face. Sadness crept in at the thought.
"I see how you look at the girl. She is far too young for you, mister. It is time for you to go." The woman turned on her heel and did not look back. "I'll have the sheriff make other arrangements."
"No, please." He struggled onto his elbows. The room spun. Sick dizziness swirled in his skull. "Have Jed Black take me to my boardinghouse."
"So long as you are gone today." She hesitated at the door, distaste curling her upper lip. "I see what you are, and I don't want you in this establishment an hour longer."
He collapsed onto the pillow, breathless, in pain of the type that laudanum could not ease. He stared at the ceiling, wanting to strain to hear the faint pad of Lila's footsteps in the next room or the comforting sound of her dulcet alto. But that was unwise. Eunice Lawson wasn't entirely wrong. He did feel something for Lila'what it was he didn't exactly know, but it would be best left unexamined.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the fall of sunshine through the window. He preferred the dark, he told himself, willing it to be true.
"
What was Eunice planning to do? Anxious, Lila carefully folded up the delicate fawn-colored lawn she'd cut off the bolt to hold for Mrs. Olaff, keeping an eye on the front door where Eunice had barreled through a few moments ago. She might be back any moment, so Lila quickly tore off a length of brown paper and wrapped the fabric.
"I don't understand why I can't run the store." Lark sighed, disappointed, as she cut off a length of white string. "It was for a few minutes. I was doing fine. I didn't make a mistake adding up the purchases or anything."
"You are very good at arithmetic," Lila encouraged. Anger beat like drumrolls at her temples but she did not wish for it to show. It would only upset Lark more. "Eunice will come to see that and then you will have my fate."
"I love the mercantile." Lark sidled close to wrap the string about the bundle and tied it up in a bow. "I can feel Ma here just like when I was little and I used to cling to her skirts when she was helping customers."
"I know." It was why she loved the fabric counter. Her mother had stood measuring calico by the yards and chatting with customers, who were her friends. Those who knew Lorraine Lawson instantly became her dear friend. She had loved everyone. Lila plucked up the package and hid it safely on the shelf behind a bulky ordering catalogue. Eunice did not have the same outlook on the family business. Lila put away the scissors. "I always feel close to Ma when I'm standing right here."
"I'm as old as you were when you started working here after school." Lark fingered an edge of yellow gingham. "Maybe if I can help out every day, Eunice could afford to start paying you."
"I doubt that will happen." She shouldered the fawn-colored bolt of material back to its place on the lower shelf.
The door swung open with a whoosh and the bell overhead rang jarringly. Eunice swept in, her shoes striking the floorboards like bullets. Silent fury reverberated from her as she focused her stern glare on Lila.
Oh, no. Her stomach dropped. She gripped the edge of the fabric shelf.
"I don't want one word from you." Eunice charged ahead, and the door whooshed open again. Two grimfaced deputies trailed in her wake. Jed Black glanced across the store, lifted his shoulders in a shrug as if to say there was nothing he could do. The deputies followed Eunice into the storeroom. Would her stepmother truly do something so uncaring?
"Eunice!" She rushed around the buttons display and past the cubicles of yarn. "We were only talking, Eunice."
The strike of her stepmother's heels on the floor did not pause. Oh, why did Pa have to be out on deliveries when this happened? Surely he could talk reason to his wife. Lila ran as fast as she dared, her skirts twisting and hampering her as she dashed into the hallway. Eunice stood with her hands on her hips and her chin set, watching the two deputies each lift one end of the pallet, but she could not see Burke. The men blocked her view of him.
She skidded to a halt. "You can't take him."
"Can't? Young lady, I can do whatever I want. The deputy goes."
"At least wait for the doctor to come back from his rounds." She went up on tiptoe, straining to see any glimpse of Burke. She saw the bumps of his feet beneath the gray blanket, but that was all. "What if he starts bleeding again?"
"That is not my lookout." Eunice did not care. This man's life did not matter to her. "Back up, girl, make room. Think of this as your own fault."
Cool fear crept beneath Lila's skin and slithered there. She fell back, stumbling until her spine hit the wall, seeing the truth in her stepmother's eyes. How could Eunice be this cold? Lila bit her bottom lip. There was nothing she could do but watch the deputies shuffle by carrying their still burden.
She watched him go by. He'd turned ashen again. The jostling must be hurting him greatly. Her chest twisted in sympathy. If only there was something she could do, some way to help him. His dark blue gaze latched onto hers. For a brief moment the closeness forged between them returned. She read his resignation before he looked past her, breaking the connection between them. Distance settled and he could have been a stranger.
That was the way of a man who wanted no ties, she realized. He was friendly enough and very charming and he had shared with her a piece of himself, but leaving was easy. Ends were expected. He had never been the one getting attached.
She was. A little piece of her heart broke as the bell over the door jingled like a musical goodbye and he was gone from her sight. Maybe forever.
"I don't know how you could do this. Even you." Lila pushed away from the wall, tears stinging her eyes. She was too old to cry; she felt shameful at the burning she could not stop. She blinked hard, trying to will it away. What if something happened to Burke? Who would take care of him? Who could make sure he was safe and comfortable and fed? And why couldn't she stop caring about a man who did not want any ties?
"You had best se
t the storeroom to rights and tally up every item from the store we used on that man. He will pay the bill, or else." Eunice's set chin eased a tad. "I know you are angry with me, child, but this is for your own good."
"I am eighteen and I can decide that for myself." She stumbled down the hall, doing her best not to imagine Burke being carried through the streets of town. She grabbed an empty crate and gently placed one lamp into it to be cleaned up later and sold at a steep discount, used. Fury boiled beneath the surface, and she did her best not to let it control her. But it wasn't easy.
"It may not seem like it, but I am doing my best for you, your sister and your father." Eunice sounded strained, perhaps a little wounded, as she hesitated in the doorway. "I do not expect you to understand. That man is no good. Mark my words."
"You have a habit of judging people." A lamp shade rattled as she lifted the second lamp and settled it next to the first one. "It doesn't mean you are right."
"I am looking out for this family. I would have thought you would appreciate it." Eunice turned on her heels, pounded down the hall and disappeared into the store.
Lila closed her eyes. A verse from Ephesians flashed into her thoughts. And be kind to one another, tender-hearted and forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. She took the words into her heart. Lord, help me to think kindly of Eunice. Help me to handle things the right way.
That didn't stop her heart from breaking. She gathered up her skirts and settled onto the edge of the chair, gazing down on the bare spot where Burke had lain. The half-eaten bowl of broth sat on the small table. The dime novel she'd read to him was on the lower shelf.
Burke may be gone, but her sense of responsibility to him remained. She tucked the book into her pocket and stood, clear on what she needed to do.
"
Nausea roiled through him like motion sickness. Burke stared at the whitewashed walls of his room at the boardinghouse, listening to the tick of the clock he couldn't see and hearing the sounds from the open window he could not get up to close. On the street below, men called out, horses clomped by and wagons rattled over the ruts in the road. Dust wafted in along with the hot air and the even hotter sun.
Hours had passed, judging by the process of the patch of sunshine marching across the foot of his bed. The straw tick was a vast improvement over the hard pallet he'd been resting on at the mercantile, but being alone was not. He grimaced, mad at himself. All it took was a small bit of a woman's kindness and he missed it. What was wrong with him? He was tougher than that. He didn't need anyone.
What he needed was a drink of water. He tried again to lift his head off the pillow, but the dizzy sickness rocked through him. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he collapsed the few inches onto his pillow. His tongue had turned to sand, the inside of his mouth to sandpaper and thirst had become a pain he could no longer ignore.
Be tougher, he told himself. Be strong. He could handle this on his own. If he rested a little more, then he could move enough to grab the dipper from the pail Jed had left by the bed.
Footsteps thudded up the stairway. A slow, heavy gait. He tried not to let hope leap into his chest. Jed had promised to come by and check on him. Not that he needed any help, but he wouldn't turn down a full dipper of cool water, either. Then he heard a silvery sound along with the footsteps.
Spurs. They rang like bells as the door squeaked open. Burke squeezed his eyes shut, gathering his strength and wondering if he had enough should he require it. His firearm was on the bureau top, too far away to do any good. He willed his heart rate to slow. He had to trust that God wouldn't send him on a mission he couldn't win.
As long as his cover wasn't blown, that is. As long as the sheriff wasn't questioning who he pretended to be, and then maybe he had a chance. He opened his eyes, aware that Dobbs watched him from inside the doorway.
"Look what the cat dragged in." The sheriff smirked. Not a whit of sympathy softened his cold gaze. Not an ounce of humanity gave life to his stony face. "I hear you got kicked out of Lawsons'. Where is your protector, now, boy?"
"Don't need one." His voiced sounded scratchy and dry.
"That's what you think." Dobbs moseyed up close. "I've been watching you for a while. I haven't made my mind up yet."
"You aren't the only one." The friction of the words in his throat made him cough. The cough drove sharp strikes of pain through his chest. Reeling, he swallowed hard. He couldn't lift his head. He hated being defenseless and weak.
Dobbs laughed, a short burst of mean. "I didn't know what to make of you. Almost didn't hire you, but when I saw you draw I thought I knew what you were."
"What's that?" His gaze slid to the right top drawer of the bureau. Five, maybe six steps away. How would he ever get that far if he should need to? He didn't dare try to lift his head from the pillow. He would conserve what little energy he had should he need it. "Who do you think I am?"
"I've been keepin' a close eye on you." Dobbs kicked the bed frame.
The shock of movement ricocheted through him like a blow. Burke clenched his teeth, determined not to let it show. Nausea gripped his stomach. His head spun slowly.
Dobbs knelt down to check under the bed and pulled out an empty satchel. He opened it and felt for anything that might be hidden in the lining. "You might be useful to me. No lawman has the kind of speed and accuracy you have. Only a man who lives and dies by his gun. A man who knows the way the world really works."
He tossed the satchel beneath the bed and stood. He opened the top left bureau drawer and pawed through the socks and handkerchiefs folded there. "When you went and missed Slim's gang not by an inch but by a mile, I knew I was right. You clearly weren't trying to stop them."
"No, I wasn't." When he'd spotted Slim's gang and his old nemesis, Cheever, his instinct had been to shoot. But he'd caught sight of Dobbs down the street, standing with his .45 holstered and his arms crossed on his chest, watching the show, and he'd realized there was more to his investigation than he'd first thought. Dobbs either knew about the robbery before it happened, or didn't mind that it did. Just in time, he swung his gun away and plugged two shots into the hitching post.
"You want to look good, be the big man in town. I see it, but I'm top dog around here. Don't you forget your place." Dobbs slammed the drawer shut and opened the adjacent one. He moved aside the folded shirts and studied the .45. "Well, I guess there are no surprises. I'll be talking to you again soon."
Footsteps tapped gently in the hallway. Dobbs stilled, tilting his head to listen to the unmistakable rustle of a woman's petticoats.
"Burke?" A knock rapped on the door frame, and he recognized Lila's voice. "I was told by the owner to come on up'" She fell silent. He could see the hem of her pretty blue calico dress enter the room and pause. "Oh, what are you doing here, Sheriff?"
"Nothing." The laughter crept back into Dobbs's voice as he backed away from the dresser. "Just checking up on the deputy. Guess I'll keep him around for a while after all, as long as he knows his place."
Spurs chimed with every angry strike of his boots. The door smacked shut, and he was gone. Burke listened to his retreating footsteps and tension drained out of him, leaving him weaker than before. Glad that was over.
"Why does the sheriff treat you like that?" A chair scraped against the wood planks and came to a rest at his bedside.
"He's establishing dominance. It's what bullies do."
"Are you all right?" Her skirts whispered as she settled into the chair beside him.
The thoroughly feminine sound comforted him and he opened his eyes. "I'm fine."
>
The basket she carried made a quiet thud as it came to rest near her feet. She was a vision in light blue sprigged cotton. Gazing upon her made his injuries ache less and the shadows inside him fade. Gratitude overwhelmed him when she lifted the dipper from the pail. Inviting droplets splashed from the ladle as she leaned in, bringing it closer.
Bless her. The refreshing wetness tumbled over his cracked lips and he slurped it in. Cool water sluiced across his sandy tongue, chasing away the grittiness and trickling down his throat. The agony that had been his thirst began to recede when he took another long swallow.
He shouldn't be glad to see her. His spirit shouldn't be rejoicing that she was near. He couldn't help it. Her presence was like that cool drink of water.
"I'm tougher than I look." He watched her while she refilled the dipper. Soft cinnamon-brown wisps had come loose from her braid to frame her oval face and caress her porcelain skin.
"Will he guess who you really are?" Distress drew tiny crinkles around her green-blue eyes.
"That's not your worry, Lila." His heart could stop at her lovely innocence, if he let it. "Your stepmother isn't going to like that you're here with me."
"My stepmother doesn't need to know. I'm eighteen. I'm capable of making my own decisions." She brought the dipper to his lips again and tipped it.
He drank, grateful for the water and for her as his nursemaid.
"What did Eunice say to you?" she asked.
"Your stepmother was only looking out for you." He let his head drop back into the pillows. Now, if only the room would quit spinning.
"She said something hurtful to you, didn't she?" The dipper clunked lightly into the pail. "She had no right to say whatever it was."
"She had every right. I never said she was wrong." He felt awkward with her here, when he didn't think she ought to be. He may as well get it over with. Sooner or later Lila would start doubting and wondering, seeing the bad that had been there all along. The bad he couldn't pray away. "I'm no good for you, Lila."