A Place Called Harmony (28 page)

Finally, when Clint pulled a knife from his boot, the man began to beg and offer money.

“I don’t want your money.” Clint shoved his knife against the man’s throat. “But if you ever touch a woman like this again, I swear you’ll bleed out in the street.”

With one light slash, he cut across the man’s nose just deep enough to leave a scar as a reminder. Then he turned and leaned into the carriage.

The girl’s eyes were so full of fright, he almost didn’t come closer, but he had to cut the rope around her wrists.

“Go home,” he said.

When she didn’t move, he opened the other side of the carriage and pointed.

She ran like a rabbit.

Clint walked back to the door he’d come from and joined the man now sitting in the gutter holding his face. Flashing the knife an inch from his now-bloody nose, Clint warned, “I’ll be checking on you. If you step out of line again or I see a bruise on any woman walking out of here, I’ll lower the blade to your throat next time.”

The man nodded but didn’t look up as blood dripped through his fingers.

Clint glanced up at the driver. “You see anything?”

“Like I’ve been told for years, I ain’t paid to see anything.”

As Clint stood he patted the bleeding man on the shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I feel better. Hope we don’t have to have this talk again because if we do, one of us won’t be walking away.”

The man was too frightened to answer, or maybe too hurt. Clint didn’t much care which.

Clint returned to the diner. By the time he’d washed up and drunk his first cup of coffee, Sheriff Lightstone was barreling his way through the door.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Truman,” he bellowed. “Man got knifed not half a block away. Every man at the station is out looking for the troublemaker. Fellow said a crazy man came out of nowhere.”

“What did the attacker look like?”

The sheriff shrugged. “The man beat up said he didn’t get a good look at him and his driver, sitting up on the carriage, said he didn’t even see the fellow, it happened so fast. With the fog we don’t know which way he went, but the guy knifed said he was wearing black.”

Lightstone looked at his own clothes, then Truman’s. “I guess that fits both of us and half of the men walking out tonight. I’d turn myself in, but I’m too hungry.”

“Confessing can wait,” Clint smiled. “How about we order? I worked up an appetite beating up the guy.”

The sheriff laughed as if Clint were joking.

They settled into talking as they ate, but Clint knew the sheriff had something on his mind. He wasn’t the type to make small talk.

As the waitress took the plates away, he pulled an envelope from his pocket. “I’ve had this for a while. A week after you and your wife left, a man came to Huntsville looking for Karrisa. He said he was her father and he’d come after her.”

Clint felt like someone had dumped a hundred pounds of lead on his chest. “Tell me exactly what he said and how he looked.”

Lightstone leaned back in his chair. “He looked well off. Stayed at the best hotel, demanded the best room. They said he complained about every meal he was served.”

The big lawman leaned closer. “He appeared angry or maybe bothered to have to spend his time looking for her. Like maybe he expected she should have been still standing outside the gate waiting for him. Asked everyone he saw if they’d seen her and, of course, finally got around to me.”

“I told him I was there the night she got out of prison and that she was met by the man she married. I didn’t want him thinking she was dead.”

“Did he ask my name?”

“He did, but there’s where my memory failed me. I needed to know he wouldn’t cause you two any trouble before I got my memory working, and nothing he did led me to believe he wasn’t full-flying trouble looking for a place to nest.”

Clint smiled. “I appreciate it, Sheriff.”

Lightstone leaned closer. “I need to know she’s happy, Clint, before I send her father away. I guess I’ll have to ride back with you and ask her, but I hate to because it’s bound to cause questions she may not want to answer.”

Clint pulled the note Karrisa had given him from his pocket. “Will this help?”

The sheriff glanced at her long list. “Don’t see how her list of supplies will help.”

“Read the last line.”

The big man leaned back in his chair and held the note far enough away so that he could see it. He silently mouthed the words as he read. When he got to the last, he smiled. “I guess that does answer my question, but I want you to take her father’s letter to her. That way she’ll know that he did come and she wasn’t forgotten.”

“If I know you, Sheriff, the letter opened itself while it was in your pocket. What did he say?”

Lightstone didn’t bother to deny Truman’s claim. “Karrisa’s father said he wanted to write and tell her that she can come back. He’d take her in and make sure she would have what she needs. He told me she could have a quiet life taking care of his house. He said she never was much for going out and of course with a bastard she wouldn’t be welcome in polite society anyway. The old man said that his half brother was right to turn her away when she got herself in bad trouble, but that now she’d done her time, as her father, he’d do his duty and try to straighten her out.”

“She doesn’t need straightening out, Sheriff.” Clint’s jaw tightened, but he kept his words calm. “She doesn’t have a bastard. The boy is now and forever my son. We named him after my brother who died in the war.” Clint stared at Lightstone. “Is her father still waiting in Huntsville?”

The sheriff shook his head. “He had to get back to business, but if she showed up I was to tell her he’d wire her money to come home.” Lightstone frowned, then added, “I got the feeling he was just a man doing his duty, not a father who cared what happened.”

“What else?” Clint wanted to know it all.

Lightstone shook his head. “Seems to me a father should ask about his daughter, but he only wanted to know where she was. Didn’t ask if you were a good man either. I got the feeling if he wasn’t taking her home, he just wanted to make sure she was out of his life.”

“She is.” Clint took the letter. “I’ll see she gets this. I think it will make her feel better to know that he tried to find her, but I don’t think she’ll go back. You’re welcome to stop by the trading post any time. Our place is just down the road.”

“I might just do that. When you heading back?”

Clint stuffed the letter and Karrisa’s note back into his pocket. “As soon as possible. I miss her. She’s quiet, hardly says a dozen words a day, but she’s not as shy as folks might think.” He smiled, remembering how she came to him so easy and asked if he was going to unbutton her dress again.

The sheriff didn’t notice his smile as he downed the last of the coffee. “Judge might want you to stay and testify, Clint. I saw the outlaw you brought in tonight. Once he talks, Dollar Holt will be a wanted man.”

Lightstone tossed a badge on the table. “They’re waiting over at the station. We plan to deputize you before you start back. That new town of yours is going to need some law and I can think of no better man to wear a badge.”

“You’re joking.”

Lightstone smiled. “Nope. I’m serious. You’re so mean most outlaws will walk a wide path just to avoid you. Now you’ve got a wife and kid, you’re not likely to wander off or get drunk.”

An hour later Clint pinned on the badge and grinned. He’d finally found something he could do and a place to belong. If Harmony needed a sheriff, he’d fill the job.

O
NE
MONTH
LATER
T
HE
M
ATHESON
L
AND

Gillian stared up at his two-story house on land that would be his in less than two years. After spending all his life where his home was usually a bunk or a tiny room made for single officers, the place seemed huge.

“It’s well built, Captain.” Patrick twirled his hammer. “It’ll stand the storms and wind out here. I made the windows extra wide like you asked so from every direction you can see your land. In a few years there’ll be nothing but cattle and kids running around this place.”

“It’s a grand house.” Gillian swelled with pride. He’d helped with the building every morning, then worked in town every afternoon. They had the town square marked off and the foundations started for the first few buildings. “Truman won’t believe all the work we’ve gotten done during the month he’s been gone.”

“I know. When I didn’t have to keep digging out his bent nails, the construction went faster.”

Gillian laughed. “You can’t wait to mention that to him, can you, Patrick?”

“You’re right about that. I love to see him fighting not to cuss almost as much as he loves cussing at me.” Patrick shrugged. “Only, Truman is going to be mighty happy when he gets back. His place is ready to move into, but Karrisa says she’s not sleeping there until he gets back.”

Gillian glanced toward town. He couldn’t see the Truman place for the old cottonwoods and elm trees along the road, but he knew it was there. “She may not move in, but she’s over there right now marking off a garden. Told Daisy she’s got seeds from the apple trees where she grew up. Says Truman and her are going to plant fifty trees on the spot that borders my land.”

The rhythm of hammers echoed around them. While Patrick did the final work on the Matheson place, Shelly and the crew of retired soldiers were framing up his place. “This is really going to happen,” Patrick whispered. “In a few years we’ll have a town and Karrisa will have her orchard. Good luck, by the way, at keeping your boys out of those apple trees.”

Gillian slapped Patrick on the shoulder. “Of course it’s going to happen. Next month we’ll start construction on the town square. Ely keeps changing his mind about what he wants first, but I’m thinking we start with the basics.”

“You really think people will come?”

“They already are. A farmer passed by asking if we needed a blacksmith yesterday. His wife died this past winter and he said he hated being out on his land all alone. Ely told him to go pack his things and move in.”

Patrick frowned. “Where we going to put people?”

Gillian smiled. “In a few days, the three rooms above the store will be open, at least until Ely’s family comes. That and the barn will be a start. The retired army men have already put up a tent down by the creek. They’ll be comfortable through summer. While Ely’s buying more wood, you build the houses and he rents them. He’ll be a rich man and worn out from repainting the population sign every day.”

Gillian moved to his wagon and headed home early. The Trumans might not be moving to their land yet, but everyone was probably happy to help the Mathesons load up. Once their four boys left the place, the trading post would settle down. Daisy promised she’d still come over to help out at the store from time to time, and of course, she’d bring the boys. Ely’s favorite pastime seemed to be watching them play.

When Gillian and Patrick reached the trading post, Gillian wasn’t surprised to find his wife’s two wagons with supplies and furniture already ready to go. All the women and children climbed into the wagons and they circled back to what everyone called the Matheson spread.

As the sun set, Gillian and Daisy moved into their house. He’d decided to leave the upstairs one big room and give Jessie the smaller room downstairs. He’d planned the little room as a study, but she needed her privacy at her age. She was so excited she couldn’t stop jumping and screaming with delight as furniture was set in her very own space. Karrisa had made her curtains and a warm rug of strips of rags. With little Danny sleeping on a blanket in the corner, Karrisa helped the girl put everything in place.

Daisy had cooked all day so she could serve dinner on her front porch to all who helped, but now she was too busy to stop to eat. Finally, when all were gone and the house glowed from lamps she’d carefully hauled two hundred miles, Daisy walked through the rooms of her house smiling.

“We’ll paint the rooms when we have time,” Gillian said as he followed her. “I’ll hang a rack for your pots and I’ll see if Shelly can help me build a few more dressers for the boys. One won’t be enough. I’m glad we got their beds up before they fell asleep. Upstairs reminds me of a barracks. Jessie said she’d sleep up there with them tonight just in case one wakes up and doesn’t know where he is. In truth, I think she doesn’t want to mess up anything in her room just yet.”

“It’s perfect.” Daisy took his hand in hers. “This house is perfect. We’re finally all together under one roof.”

“It’s not perfect. The walls are rough, the floor could stand a stain . . .” He stopped and looked at her. She was as beautiful as the first day he saw her. “You’re right.
Perfect
is the word.”

Gillian realized that for the first time since he woke up at the trading post, all was quiet. The boys and Jessie were asleep and he heard no snoring from Ely or whispered conversations leaking through the walls.

“We’re alone, Daisy.”

She smiled. “We are.”

He took her hand and moved into the bedroom. “I want to sleep with my wife in this house every night for the rest of my life. And tonight there will be no blankets between me and you.”

“Of course, Captain.” She stood at attention as if being ordered and then giggled.

“I’m not a captain anymore, but I’m still yours, Daisy, if you’ll have me.” He took a step toward her, feeling as hesitant as he had on their wedding night. A year was a long time between making love.

She looked just as nervous. “My body’s not the same as it was. Carrying the twins left horrible marks and—”

“You’re beautiful. You always will be to me.” He stood behind her and began unbuttoning her dress. Maybe if they acted as if this were just an ordinary night, they both would relax.

“You don’t miss the army?”

“No. That time in my life seems boring compared to living here.” He opened the back of her dress and slid the material forward off her shoulders. “Even filling out the paperwork to try to get a post office in Harmony is exciting. We’ll have a courthouse if I can get the county seat here and maybe I’ll have an office there.” As he talked of his dreams for Harmony, his fingers lightly brushed over her bare shoulders.

She held her dress to her chest. “Blow out the lamp first.”

He stopped touching her. “Before I build the town or before I finish undressing my bride?”

Giggling, she clarified, “Before you finish undressing me.”

Gillian moved in front of her. “No, Daisy. We’ve never hid our bodies from each other and we’ll not start now. We’ll make love in the shadows tonight, but I’ll see you first.” He hesitated and added, “And you’ll see me.”

He stood staring into her eyes as he removed his shirt. “Look at me, Daisy. I’ve got a scar on my forehead that will never go away. Last year I was stabbed and it looks like I have an extra belly button. I fell off my horse last winter and he dragged me through a rock bed. The gashes healed red along my back.” One by one he showed her his imperfections. “I’m battle scarred and older than I was when we met. Do you still want me?”

She laughed. “Of course I still want you. Though the two belly buttons do bother me a little.”

He brushed his hand over hers, lacing his fingers with hers as he pulled her grip away from her dress. The cotton fell to the floor. “And I still want you, Daisy. My beautiful Daisy. Mother of my four sons and love of my life.”

She came to him, pressing her imperfect body against his imperfect body as they both moaned at how perfect it felt to be so close.

Without another word, he blew out the light as she climbed into bed. They made slow love as if journeying through their entire relationship from first kiss to wild passion. He knew her body as she knew his and they knew exactly what the other liked. When they made love, it was magically familiar and brand new at the same time.

Deep in the night he got out of bed and put on his trousers. She put on his shirt and they ran like kids to the kitchen, where they attacked all the leftovers in the basket she’d brought.

“You’ll always be eighteen to me,” he said as they shared the last of the pie.

“And you’ll always be my handsome lieutenant.”

For a moment they weren’t Captain and Mrs. Matheson, founders of the town and parents of four sons. They were simply Gillian and Daisy, two wild kids in love for the first and last time in their lives.

Hand in hand they walked around the house looking at every piece of furniture she’d brought and arguing over where it should go. Finally, they made it back to the bedroom and Daisy insisted he put on a nightshirt.

“This is ridiculous,” he mumbled. “I never wear a nightshirt. Why would I put one on now when in a few hours it will be dawn and I’ll be dressing anyway?”

“You’ll see,” she answered, and held the covers back for him to climb in beside her.

For a long while, Gillian just held her, and then he drifted to sleep thinking he was the luckiest man alive.

At dawn, invading forces attacked. They jumped on the bed, screamed and cried and yelled. As fast as he could grab one and set him off the bed, another advanced with full force.

Daisy deserted him, claiming she had to make coffee.

Gillian was left to fight the Matheson gang alone.