Lightning and Lawmen

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Lightning and Lawmen Page 18

by Shanna Hatfield


  “Who said anything ails me?” Dugan asked, glaring at the lumberman.

  Ian chuckled and shook his head before settling an arm around Maggie’s waist and pulling her near. “I’ve suffered from a similar condition, Deputy. The symptoms are easy to recognize, even if you haven’t yet figured out the cure.”

  “Stop teasing him, Ian. Let’s get to work,” Maggie said, smiling at Dugan as they moved over to the crates and began loading them.

  After taking two loads to the house, Maggie and Delilah stayed there to start unpacking. Maggie sent the messenger boy to round up additional help.

  Before long, Brianna and Tully arrived followed by Lon Bryant, the manager at Ian’s lumber mill. Tad and Posey Palmer joined them along with Pastor Eagan and his wife.

  The men grunted, groaned, and grumbled when they moved in Delilah’s upright piano. They repeated the serenade of strained sounds when they hefted a huge marble-topped sideboard with an ornately carved, mirrored top and carried it inside the dining room.

  Maggie and Posey oversaw the kitchen and dining room while Brianna and Mrs. Eagan took charge in the bedrooms. Delilah focused her attention in the parlor and her Papa’s office.

  Then Dugan opened a crate full of her birdhouses and lawn statuary. Delilah picked up a stone fairy with a bird on her shoulder and cradled it to her breast. He grinned and caught her eye. “I take it you’re happy to have your things,” he said.

  “Delirious,” she said with a broad smile.

  “We’ll move this outside. Front or back yard?” he asked.

  “Back, please,” she said, following the men who hefted the crate outside to her backyard.

  Hours later, the furniture was all moved in, the crates had been hauled off, and Delilah was left with a dozen trunks to unpack.

  “I can’t thank everyone enough for your help today. May I treat you all to dinner?”

  “You don’t need to treat us to dinner, Delilah,” Maggie said, looping her arm around hers. “This is what neighbors around here do.”

  Dugan saw her struggling with the emotion that threatened to swamp her. Tears glistened in her eyes and she swallowed twice before she spoke. “Then I’m most thankful for such wonderful neighbors and friends. However, if any of you would allow, I’d be most honored if you’d join me for dinner at the hotel. I need to send the evening weather report, but perhaps we could meet there at half past five?”

  “We’ll see you there,” Brianna said, giving Delilah a hug before she and Tully left with Sammy, who had come over after school.

  One by one, the helpers left until Delilah was left alone with Dugan.

  “Shall we go get that weather report taken care of?” he asked, walking with her down the front porch steps and out to where he’d left Barton and Button.

  “Yes, let’s hurry.”

  “Want to take the wagon or walk?” he asked.

  “Oh, let’s walk,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward. Delilah grinned at him, lifted the front of her skirt with her free hand, and broke into a run.

  Dugan kept step with her as they raced up the hill to the weather station. He waited as she unlocked the door then watched as she took the readings, wrote a report, and jotted down the cipher she intended to send.

  “That didn’t take long. Did you get everything you needed?” he asked as she locked the door.

  “Yes, it’s going to rain again, so I’m glad we finished moving in the furniture before it started.”

  Dugan glanced at the clear sky overhead, but he’d learned when she said it was going to rain to believe her. “Are we in for another lightening storm?”

  “I don’t think so. This should be a soothing spring rain,” she said, turning to look at him, although her gaze fastened to his lips.

  He wondered if she recalled the kisses they shared with the lightning sizzling around them the other day. If so, perhaps she’d be open to sharing another one or two in the near future.

  Before he could further contemplate the possibilities, they arrived at the telegraph office. She sent the message and then he walked her home.

  “Will you join us for dinner, Dugan? I know you must be exhausted, but I’d be quite pleased if you would.”

  “I’ll be there. I have the next two days off and can catch up on sleep later,” he said, walking her to the door. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take the horses home and come back for you.”

  “There’s no need. Just meet me at the hotel.” Delilah opened her door but remained standing on the porch. She reached up and ran her hand over the stubble on his cheek. “Thank you for everything, Dugan. You’re a wonderful friend.”

  He tipped his hat to her and hastened to the wagon. A friend? Is that how she saw him? Just a good friend?

  Although he cherished her friendship, it was her love that he truly wanted.

  In record time, he unhitched the horses, brushed them down, milked the cow, fed his critters, then rushed into the house to change his clothes and loped back to town.

  He was five minutes late arriving at the hotel, but figured no one would notice or care. Quickly opening the door and striding inside the lobby, he lifted a hand in greeting to Herbert Isaac, the front desk manager, before he stepped in the restaurant.

  Several tables had been pushed together to make one long table where Delilah sat sandwiched between Sammy Barrett and Seth. She’d taken time to comb her hair and change into a lovely Prussian blue gown with enough braid, trim, and buttons to outfit three dresses.

  Dugan surveyed the table and made his way to the only empty chair on the opposite end from Delilah, far enough away he could barely hear anything she said.

  Once everyone placed their orders, Tully raised his glass in a toast. “To good friends, old and new, and to our resident meteorologist: May you always have more sunbeams than lightning bolts to light your path in life.”

  Everyone laughed and offered words of cheer.

  After the passionate kisses he’d shared with Delilah the other day, Dugan had a whole new appreciation for lightning. But if Seth leaned over any closer to Delilah, he might wish an electrified bolt would strike his best friend.

  Was Delilah leading them both on? Had she shared the same type of kisses with Seth? Was there anyone else vying for her affections?

  Disgruntled and irritated, Dugan felt his anger rising with each passing minute. Seth settled his arm around the back of Delilah’s chair in a familiar gesture that put Dugan on edge. Who did Seth think he was, snugging up close to her?

  By the time their meals arrived, Dugan was so annoyed with Seth he wanted to jump across the table and knock out a few teeth. Instead, he picked up his knife and savagely carved a hunk off his tender steak then shoved it in his mouth.

  Ian and Maggie attempted to engage him in conversation, but he offered only the briefest of replies to their questions. Finally, they gave up.

  It was just as well. Dugan couldn’t concentrate on anything except how mad he was at Seth for hanging all over Delilah and her for letting him.

  When Seth leaned close and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Delilah’s face, Dugan pushed back his chair and started to rise to his feet, but a hand on his arm stayed his initial reaction.

  “Cool yer heels,” Ian warned in a hushed tone.

  Dugan glared at him but plopped back down in the chair and picked up his knife and fork again. He wouldn’t have eaten at all but he’d worked through breakfast and skipped lunch helping Delilah move her things. If his belly wasn’t as empty as a bottomless bucket, he’d have stormed right out of the restaurant, regardless of Ian’s attempts to get him to see reason.

  Mindful he couldn’t continue shooting daggers across the table at Delilah and Seth, he shifted slightly in his chair until he faced Tad and Posey Palmer who were seated across from them.

  With a calming breath, he asked Tad about a new display in his shop window and Ian and Maggie joined in the conversation. Delilah insisted they all join her in dessert. Dugan ignor
ed her and Seth as he ate the delicious, flaky-crusted canned cherry pie.

  When they’d finished their meal, Dugan watched his friends make their way out the door. He gave one last glance at Delilah speaking to Seth. She turned and looked at him, her gaze questioning and uncertain.

  He tipped his hat and strode away, too upset to even offer a civil word of thanks for his supper.

  The woman was as fickle as the weather she predicted if she could ogle his form when he answered the door then turn her full attention to Seth as if he was her special beau.

  “If that’s the way she wants to play it, then so be it,” Dugan muttered as he stormed out of the hotel. Rain fell in gentle patters, plopping in the dust of the street. He glanced at the sky and released a pent-up breath. Was that infuriating woman always right?

  Determined to put her from his thoughts, Dugan marched home in the softly falling rain.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Delilah breathed in the scent of flowers as she unpacked more of her garden treasures and set them around the backyard. Cinnamon pinks were just starting to bloom and their spicy aroma made her smile.

  She’d just placed a birdhouse her father had made her for her sixteenth birthday on a wooden stand near the holly bushes she’d planted last month when Oliver scaled the fence and made his way into the yard through the limbs of the cottonwood tree.

  The raccoon had been noticeably absent the last few days. With all the people there helping her move in and then rain falling the past three days, he’d stayed holed up somewhere warm and dry. He scuttled over to her and brushed against her side. She reached down and picked him up, rubbing his fur.

  “Well, Ollie, what do you think? Do you like the additions to the yard?”

  The raccoon gave her a look she couldn’t interpret then snuggled closer in her arms as she pet him.

  Delilah stood and walked over to a wrought iron bench she’d had Seth help her position beneath the maple tree and took a seat.

  Since the day Dugan had helped her move her things, she hadn’t set eyes on him. Instead of escorting her to the weather station as he always did, he must have made arrangements with his friends because whichever deputy was working the night shift came to walk her out there in the mornings. Tully and Seth had taken turns accompanying her the past few evenings.

  She had no idea what she’d done to chase Dugan away, but she missed him. It had been obvious at dinner the other night he was miffed about something, even if she couldn’t put her finger on the cause.

  In truth, when he opened his door wearing nothing but a pair of snug jeans, she’d been so discombobulated, she wasn’t sure she could have recalled her own name let alone the reason she’d gone to his house.

  Muscles, sculpted and hard, drew her gaze from his shoulders to his arms then across his chest and abdomen to where he’d left his pants unbuttoned. She should have been offended at the impropriety of it all.

  Instead, she was intrigued.

  Fascinated.

  Utterly mesmerized by the raw masculinity of the handsome man.

  The overwhelming interest she held for Dugan Durfey was the reason she’d chosen to sit by Seth when they’d eaten dinner at the hotel. The more flustered Dugan behaved, the more she encouraged Seth’s attentions. It wasn’t even something she’d done with mindful intent. No, it was later, when she was tucked into her own bed with a soft feather mattress and smooth cotton sheets that she’d realized her behavior bordered on appalling.

  For the first time in a long time, Delilah had rolled onto her side and cried for her mother. She needed a woman to talk to. A woman she could trust to listen to her and give her good advice.

  Delilah knew she was playing with fire to encourage two suitors, especially when she still had no plans to wed. She admired, liked, and cared for both Seth and Dugan. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt either of them.

  Seth was such fun, brimming with laughs and silliness.

  Dugan was… Dugan. Full of life and energy, intelligence and wit.

  She’d rather set fire to her garden and never sketch another bird than cause a riff between the two friends, but she had no idea what to do, other than ask them both to leave her alone. But she enjoyed their friendship too much to do that.

  Clearly, she’d upset Dugan and couldn’t blame him for staying away. He’d been so kind to her, so generous with his time and efforts on her behalf. And she’d repaid him by flirting with his best friend.

  One thing she knew for certain — moping around wouldn’t help or change anything. She needed to focus her attention on something purposeful, like finishing her flower garden.

  She looked around the yard from a bird’s perspective. Open sky provided plenty of space for flying and playful chases. The cottonwood, maple, and elm trees offered enticing places to land and nest.

  Bushes and tall grasses lined the back of the flower beds with shorter plants in the middle and ground cover near the front. Just off the back porch to the left, she’d planted a vegetable garden. Already, green shoots poked through the rich earth.

  And along the eaves of the porch she’d hung containers with birdseed and sugar water. She’d already seen one hummingbird and hoped to draw many more in the coming months. By mid-summer, the yard would provide the birds with their own little paradise.

  Delilah set the raccoon on his feet and stood.

  “Come on, Ollie. There’s much work to do before we’re finished with the yard.”

  She returned to unpacking the last of the statuary and birdhouses her father had sent. Nearly finished, she heard a squeak, like the front door opening, but didn’t give it another thought.

  She watered the plants and gave Oliver a cracker from the tin she kept on the back porch, then brushed off her hands and once again surveyed the yard. For no longer than she’d been working on it to bring it to life, the garden was starting to take shape.

  Pleased with her efforts, she opened the back door and walked inside. She stepped into the hallway, intent on washing up and combing her hair before whomever Dugan sent to escort her came to take her to the weather station.

  Abruptly, she stopped. A man she didn’t recognize shot her a startled look before he lunged out the front door.

  Heart pounding from surprise and fear, Delilah raced through the kitchen and out the back door and across the yard. She slipped out the side gate then picked up her skirts and ran to the sheriff’s office.

  Taking the steps two at a time, she burst into the office to find Dugan alone at his desk.

  He took one look at her face and rushed to her side. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  “There was a man in my house,” she wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

  “Just now? Is he still there?” Dugan took a step toward the door.

  “No. I saw him run out the front door when I came in from the kitchen. I was outside working.” She held a hand to her middle and willed the nerves roiling in her stomach to settle.

  “You stay here while I go take a look.”

  Dugan turned to go, but Delilah clasped his arm with both hands. “Please let me go with you. I don’t want to stay by myself.”

  He nodded and took her hand in his, jogging toward her house. They approached from the back and went in the side gate. Dugan put his finger to his lips, indicating she should be quiet as he left her sitting on the bench beneath the maple tree while he crept up the steps and inside the house.

  Through the open windows, she strained to hear the sound of his footsteps. Finally, she heard him walking across the kitchen floor before he pushed open the screen and stepped outside.

  “You can come in now,” he said and motioned for her to join him.

  Delilah set down Oliver on the bench. The raccoon returned to keep her company while she waited. She gave him a pat on his head then hurriedly crossed the yard.

  “Please tell me the house doesn’t look like the weather station,” she whispered, afraid of what she’d find when she entered the house
and walked toward the parlor.

  “I don’t know if you caught him before he had time to damage anything, or if he found what he was looking for,” Dugan said as he stood at the parlor door.

  Nothing looked amiss. Nothing was out of place. Nothing appeared to have been stolen.

  Delilah thought of her mother’s jewelry that was in her bedroom and raced into the room. Everything looked exactly as she’d left it, but she pulled open a drawer in the dresser and lifted out a false bottom. Her mother’s wedding ring, a sapphire necklace, and a pair of pearl and emerald earbobs glistened in the afternoon light streaming in the window.

  Dugan looked over her shoulder. “Glad he didn’t find those.”

  “Me, too. They belonged to my mother. The necklace was my great-grandmother’s.” She stroked a loving hand over the jewels, replaced the false bottom in the drawer and pushed it shut.

  “Why was that man here, Dugan? What does he want? Is he the one who broke into the weather station?”

  “I’m not certain, but I aim to find out,” he said, stepping back into the hallway. “Look in the rest of the rooms and see if anything is missing. I’m gonna check around outside.”

  He opened the front door and walked down the porch steps while she went to her father’s office at the back of the house. Papers were strewn everywhere and a smoky smell lingered in the air. She looked down at ashes from a cigarette that had been ground into the carpet.

  “Disgusting, ill-mannered beast,” she said, going to the kitchen for her cleaning supplies. After scrubbing the ashes from the carpet, she gathered the papers and tried to discern what the man could have possibly been searching for. The papers included everything from weather maps and patterns to reports and a few research articles her father had been working on for the past year.

  “Find anything?” Dugan called as he walked down the hallway.

  “Yes, in Papa’s office.”

  Dugan stepped into the room. “Well, I guess we know where he was looking, at any rate. Anything missing?”

  “Not that I can tell, but he made such a mess of things and the heathenish reprobate ground ashes into my carpet!”

 

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