by Jillian Hart
I'm sure this is Your will, Father. Her prayer felt small against the angry stretch of the bruised sky above and the silence settling in the alley. Please help direct my heart. I know I should not love him.
A gust of wind knocked over something on Mrs. Grummel's porch. What sounded like a tin watering can rolled with uneven metallic thuds and then clunked to a stop. With the wind kicking up, a storm was definitely on its way. She knelt by the stacked washtubs. A strange shadowy flutter in the dark at the metal rim caught her attention. She reached behind the stack. Something was hidden there!
Sunflowers. She pulled the bouquet gingerly from behind the relative shelter of the tub. The wildflowers were furled up for the night, their delicate yellow petals the exact shade of her dress. Burke. Why had he done it? She reached quickly into her pocket and seized the badge. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a movement in the inky darkness.
Burke. She couldn't see him, but she knew. His presence changed the night, changed her. She tucked his badge where the flowers had been and straightened. Affection that no storm or hardship or ultimatum could diminish burned inside her. She could not stop it. Maybe nothing could. It wasn't smart and there was no way a relationship could work out between them, but she wished. She hoped.
Across the alley, a shadow parted from the others and took distinct shape. She recognized the assertive tilt of his Stetson, the mountain-wide shoulders, the strength in his tall muscular frame. It was too dark to distinguish his features but she could feel his kindness like a candle in the night, a single flame burning brightly. He raised one hand in both hello and goodbye, and she raised hers, too. The gulf between them was wide. The space between their hearts was not. Still feeling the faint tingle of his earlier kiss to her forehead, she walked backward to the door.
Precious seconds ticked by and she wished she could make time stop, but the wind gusted with a sudden icy chill. The sky overhead broke apart in a blinding flash of white-tailed lightning. Thunder crashed so loud it drowned out the sudden clamor of hailstones pummeling the ground.
He rejoined with the shadows. She backed through the door. They were apart again, but strangely not separated by heart at all.
"
Burke ducked out of the hail into the Steiner Saloon. As thunder cannoned overhead and ice stones hailed on the roof with a deafening clatter, he wove around empty tables and couldn't forget Lila. He tried to. She stayed front and center in his thoughts, the willowy shadow on the back porch clutching a spray of sunflowers. He knew she cared for him. He had felt the existence of her affection as surely as if she'd said the words aloud.
"What'll it be?" the barkeep asked, shining a tumbler with a hand towel. Dobbs had called him Roger. "Whiskey?"
"Not tonight." He sidled up to the bar and pulled out a stool. He wasn't a drinking man. "I came to talk to you."
"To me?" Roger's towel stilled. He carefully set the tumbler on the bar. The dim lamplight could not hide the tic in the bartender's jaw. "So now you're doing Dobbs's dirty work?"
Dirty work? Burke settled on the stool and leaned his forearms against the edge of the bar. "What if I were?"
"Tell him I don't have it all, but I can get it by the end of the week." Roger tossed his towel on the bar, distaste curling his upper lip. "No need to say it. I know Dobbs will be mad, but it's his own fault. I told him when he threatened me there wasn't a whole lot to spare. Wait right there."
"Threatened you?" How about that. He'd stumbled onto his best piece of hard evidence yet after two months of subtly asking questions around town. Burke shook his head. God never failed. God always led him exactly where he was meant to be. He glanced around the saloon, taking in the half dozen tables, beaten up chairs, the floor clean but scarred by cigarette butts, matches and one too many brawls. He'd been in many saloons like this over the years and the memories tortured him.
Lightning flashed, starkly illuminating the room around him with a brief blinding whiteness. Time reeled, taking him backward in time to the glare of the lantern shining in his face. Memory seized him and he was fifteen-years-old again.
"Here's where you sit lookout." Old Man Cheever blew out the wick, and the sudden change to blackness pressed upon Burke's eyes. "You protect us. That's all you gotta do, boy. Just follow Olly's lead."
"I'll show him the ropes, Pa." Olly spoke up with importance. Experience puffed up like pride in his voice. "Don't worry. We've got your back."
"That's my boy." He disappeared in the thousand shadows and shades of the night. When he spoke again, his voice came as if disembodied. "That's the sign. Rifles ready. Here she comes."
"Now the fun starts, Burke." Olly stretched out on the rocky high ground and dropped the pail of ammunition between them. "Get yourself a good view of the road below."
"I see it." Excitement quivered through him as he lay belly down. A rock jabbed his ribs and he swept it away, impatient to get his polished new rifle positioned. He lined up the site with the dark roadway below.
No one came or went. There was no sign of Mr. Cheever or his other employees. He wondered what they were moving that needed security. It was too late at night and there weren't enough men to move cattle. Maybe it was gold. This was mining country. Maybe Mr. Cheever had a lot of nuggets to move. That would explain why he was so secretive.
A faint drumming of hooves and the rattle of rigging rose above the sounds of the plains. Six horses broke into sight pulling a small stagecoach. Two men sat on the seat, one with the reins, the second with a rifle.
Thunder cracked in his ear. Burke jumped, realizing Olly had taken a shot. Adrenaline hammered through his blood, making his own gun shake. He watched with horror as the rifleman on the seat below slumped sideways and fell bonelessly off the side of the stage.
"You killed him!" Hoarse with terror, his words carried no more sound than a whisper. "You just'¦killed him."
"Looks like it." Olly beamed. "I hit him square in the chest. Pa'll be real proud of me."
Burke gulped. He hardly paid attention to the chaos below. On horseback Mr. Cheever rode firing at the driver.
"Take him down," Olly shouted in his ear. "I left him for you."
"I c-can't." He tossed the gun at his so-called friend, sick over the weapon he'd been fawning over not an hour earlier.
"You have to." Olly tossed it back. He picked up his Winchester long enough to site and fire. "Awww, winged him," he said, disappointed.
Range Riders who had been protecting the stage surged forward, their badges glinting faintly in the moonshine.
"Shoot, dummy!" Olly hollered. Peppering gunfire exploded through the night.
A peal of thunder rattled overhead, shaking the rafters, drawing Burke back to the present. He blinked, startled to realize he was sitting in the bar in Angel Falls.
"This is all I got." Roger slapped a thick envelope on the bar. "Tell that'" He paled. "Dobbs. What are you doin' here?"
"I came for my money and not a moment too soon." Dobbs took the closest stool. "Hannigan, you weren't helpin' yourself to what was mine, now were you, boy?"
"No, Roger thought I was working for you, and I guess I am." Burke swallowed hard, but the bitterness of the past remained thick on his tongue. At least Lila was out of his thoughts where she belonged, where he wanted.
Where she would remain.
"
Morning rain pattered on the boardwalks and puddled in the street to make mud. Lila lifted her skirts to the tops of her polished black shoes and crossed the intersection carefully. Her soles squished in the mud but not a drop landed on her pink calico. A horse splashed through the wet and muck.
"Lila," a familiar rumbling voice called out.
She knew who the rider was before he spoke. She stepped safely onto the boardwalk on the other side of the street and whirled. A Stetson shaded Burke's face. He sat astride a stunning black mustang. Silhouetted against the dark sky and silver rain, he could have ridden right out of the story she'd been reading.
"I can't speak to you." She hated the distance between them. No smile softened his features, as if he hated it, too. "I'm sorry."
"Then we won't talk." Burke reined his horse over, swaying slightly in the saddle, his posture and command that of an accomplished horseman. She didn't see how anyone could look at him and merely see a deputy. She saw nobility, honor, might. He could not hide who he was, not from her.
"Don't say a word," he orderly gently. "Ever since I decided to stay away from you, I keep running into you. This morning I saddled up to ride out of town and you are the first person I come across. It's either bad luck or Providence."
Providence, she decided. At least that was what she hoped.
"I'm following a couple leads on my day off." He glanced casually up and down the street. No one was out in the humid heat where the threat of lightning kept most folks close to home. "The sheriff is sleeping off his bender from last night, so I thought it was a good time."
She nodded, wishing she could speak. Seeing him strengthened the well of affection rising up within her. Burke leaned to lay his gloved hand tenderly against the curve of her face.
They needed no words. She could feel the love in his touch. Respectful and sincere, it traveled as if on a current from his heart to hers. Could he feel the same from her? Did he know? She wanted to hold back, she wanted to be sensible but her love for him overpowered reason. All she wanted, all she could ever want, was him.
It was not meant to be. She pressed her cheek against his palm. What if this was her only chance at true love? What if the one man who matched her soul was Burke? He would leave and take her only chance for happily-ever-after with him. And then what? She thought of all she would regret if she continued down this path. She thought of the rest of her life alone and unmarried, running the store with Eunice and how all she would have of Burke would be his memory.
Tears stung behind her eyes but did not fall. She wouldn't allow them to. Bourne away on emotion, she covered Burke's hand with both of hers and drew it to her lips. She kissed his knuckles, nerves needling at her boldness. Could he feel what she could not say?
"Me, too." His midnight eyes darkened to a stormy black, but tenderness shone in him as he bent his head to kiss her lips. No kiss could ever be more loving or respectful. She clung to him, wishing the moment could last forever. On tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on but she could not stop the moment from ending. She fell back on her heels, Burke straightened and his saddle creaked.
"I wish." The tenderness of his gaze deepened. A muscle jumped along his jawline. Regret lined his face as he tipped his hat to her. "I just wish."
The wind gusted, driving rain into her face and blurring her vision as he rode away, a lone rider dressed in black, outlined by the storm. She swiped at her eyes, the pesky rain, so full of pure love her ribs ached from the pressure against them.
Maybe there was a way, she thought. Let there be a way, she prayed.
"Lila!" a friendly voice called out, as dear as could be. Shoes drummed on the slick boardwalk. "Wait for me!"
"Earlee." She gave her face a final swipe drying away the last of the rain'not tears. She was too strong for that. She firmed her chin and genuine joy smiled through her at the sight of her friend hurrying closer. "What are you doing out in this weather? It's a long walk from your family's farm."
"Pa let me take Hilda." She gestured to the sway-backed, gray-muzzled mare hitched to a cart tethered in front of the druggist's storefront. That could only mean one thing.
"How is your ma?"
"It's a struggle for her." Earlee looked miserable, as if she hated being helpless to help her mother get well. "She is determined to hold on, and we're all glad to have her with us."
"I pray for her every night." Lila wrapped her friend in a comforting hug. When she stepped back, Burke was merely a small dark smudge against the long stretch of road. She missed him already. "Do you have some time or do you have to rush right back?"
"I have time and a list of errands to run." Earlee linked her arm in Lila's. "Where are you headed?"
"To the post office. I have the monthly bills to mail." She patted her skirt pockets. "How about you?"
"I need to check the mail, too." Earlee's golden blond curls bounced as she walked. "I saw something interesting on the way here."
"You did? Ooh, tell me."
"I saw a friend of mine kissing this incredibly handsome deputy right in the middle of the street."
"Earlee!" Lila turned beet-red. "Were you watching?"
"I tried to look away, honest I did. But I couldn't believe my eyes. Does this mean he is courting you?"
"Burke?" she sputtered. "No. Definitely not. He's not exactly the marrying type."
"It looked like it to me." Earlee couldn't contain her delight. "He does have that dangerous thing about him. Dark, handsome, oozing charm. I see why you're in love with him."
"I'm not'" She led the way around the corner. The rain drove against them, making her squint. "Maybe it's time to confess it out loud. I am in love with him. Oh, Earlee, what am I going to do?"
"Maybe he loves you enough to change his mind about settling down. Never underestimate the power of love." She thought of her own dilemma and Finn's letter that kept haunting her mind, his goodbye she could not forget. "Deputy Hannigan seems like a nice guy. I know what folks are saying about him. I've heard the stories about your father and he's spending more time with the sheriff after hours."
"He's not like Dobbs. He's a good man," Lila insisted. Sincerity defined her, pinching her eyes and tensing her from head to toe. It was as if she could will it to be true.
"I know what it is like to see the good in a man others think are bad." She swallowed hard. Did she share her secret and her heartache? "You see the good in him."
"There is so much good. I'm certain of it." Conviction gave power to her words. "I can't say how I know, but I do. Eunice thinks he's a terrible man. Pa has forbidden me to talk with him. They won't understand and there is nothing I can do to make them."
"I know how you feel." She thought of Finn so far away, incarcerated and suffering. By his own fault, she knew, but it was hard not to remember the kind young man he'd once been. She cared for him. She did not want to, but she did. "I've been corresponding with someone my parents would not approve of if they knew."
"Corresponding?" Lila appeared shocked. "I know nothing about this."
"I've kept it quiet. I'm not ready for everyone to know." She stopped beneath the land office's awning, where the slap of rain did not reach them. "There is a lot of good in the man, but I'm afraid all anyone would see is the bad and they wouldn't approve."
"It isn't as if you can tell your heart what to do." Understanding softened Lila's tone. "Even when you know it's impossible, your affections remain."
"Exactly." Earlee thought of Finn's life of labor and hardship. He was paying the price for his crime. It would be a shame if the laughing, good young man she'd once known died in that place. Maybe her letters would help to keep the goodness inside him alive.
A rela
tionship between them would be impossible. He had a long sentence and he had never shown her anything beyond platonic respect, but her love for him could make a difference. Wasn't that what her faith taught? That love could give light to the darkest of places where even hope dared not grow? And where love could shine, then hope could follow.
She could hear the letter she intended to write to him unfolding in her head. She would tell him of funny stories from the farm, because there were so many, tales meant to make him laugh. She could give Finn a reason to laugh and remember the man he used to be. It was the right thing to do.
"Isn't that Cora Sims's store?" Lila skidded to a halt in front of the town's nicest dress shop. "You wouldn't happen to be looking for a job, would you, Earlee?"
"I am, actually. I have a few applications for teaching jobs to mail. That's one reason I came to town." The fall was fast approaching. There would be harvest time on the farm, canning and preserving and the cellar to fill and then she intended to teach. Her family could desperately use the income. "I have my teacher's certificate, remember? Why do you ask?"
"I have to speak with Cora first, then I'll tell you. Come in out of the rain and wait while I do?" She phrased it as a question with a desperate silent plea.
"Sure. I love to look at all the pretty gowns she has on display," she agreed, thinking of the verse from Psalms her mother had read to her this morning, as she did every morning. Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart.
It's true, she thought, God's timing was impeccable. Her burden lightened, she trailed Lila into the store.
Chapter Thirteen
"Eunice, is Pa back from his deliveries yet?" Lila peeked around the storeroom door where her stepmother sat in a chair marking the new shipment of buttonhooks against the invoice tacked on a clipboard.