Another Dawn (34 page)

      
Talk about twisting the knife
. "No, you wouldn't."
 
If Dr. Wilson had been able to read Luke's mind, he couldn't have done any better at echoing his thoughts. "You love Mrs. Fleming."

      
"More than my own life."
 
Dr. Wilson dropped an instrument and stooped to retrieve it. "But I've been single all my life, Luke. The thought of getting married at my age..."

      
Luke swallowed the lump in his throat, mentally watching his arguments against the wedding crumble. If he didn't marry Roman and Anna tonight, they might never go through with it.

      
And if ever two people belonged together...

      
Like me and Sofie?

      
No, that was dangerous territory. Shoving thoughts of Sofie from his mind, Luke crossed the room and placed his hand on the doctor's shoulder. A sense of defeat washed through him, and he sighed. "You're doing the right thing."

      
And I'm screwed.

      
"Thanks. I really needed that reassurance."
 
Roman gave him a weak smile.

      
"No problem."
 
Luke had enough problems for the whole frigging town.

      
Dr. Wilson visibly relaxed and finished arranging his instruments. "I've been wondering about your plans, now that the epidemic is over."

      
"Plans?" Luke wasn't sure he wanted to go there.
 

      
"Well, surely you and Sofie were going somewhere else originally."

      
Flustered, Luke ran his hand across his hair and searched his mind for answers. For lies, rather. "Right, of course. I was due in Denver weeks ago."

      
"Ah, Denver."
 
Roman looked in a small book and frowned. "Winter will be here before we know it. I suppose you'll want to be on your way before then."

      
"Yes, that's true."
 
Luke sat in a chair beside the doctor's desk, trying to ignore the burning in his gut.

      
"And what about Sofie?" Dr. Wilson sat down at his desk and leaned back, tapping a pencil against his knuckles. "What do you know about her, other than her profession?"

      
"Not much."
 
Except that she had the most perfect breasts Luke had ever seen, and her skin was as soft and smooth as–

      
He swallowed hard and mentally kicked himself. "We were in an explosion, which is how she got her head injury."
 
That was no lie.

      
"And her memory loss," Dr. Wilson added.

      
Yes, thank God. Guilt pressed down on Luke again. All these weeks of feeling thankful for Sofie's amnesia were wearing. Even so, he was still relieved she hadn't remembered who or what he was.
 

      
Though this morning she'd mentioned a scrap of memory that could build into something much more significant. The cold, sterile room she'd described could only have been the execution chamber.

      
With the electric chair.

      
A chill swept through him and Luke suppressed a shiver. However, remembering the electric chair always helped him get his priorities straight.
Freedom
. He didn't dare let anything matter more than that.

      
Yet he had. Repeatedly. The town, the people, his new friends...and Sofie. They all mattered.

      
Damn.

      
"That explosion," the doctor said thoughtfully, "must've been a mining accident of some kind."

      
Luke shrugged, definitely not wanting to go there.

      
"I appreciate you and Sofie staying on until this matter with Jenny and Shane is settled."
 
The doctor shook his head and sighed. "Between the quarantine and this mess, I think Anna may be right about you both being sent here by God Himself. And what about Sam Weathers? Amazing, him showing up when he did."

      
Luke nodded. "Yeah."
 
His voice sounded strained, even to him. Time for him to make some sort of announcement, rather than leave things indefinite, as they had been. After all, Dr. Wilson had already given him an opening. "As soon as this is resolved, though, I have to get to Denver."

      
"Of course, I understand."
 
Roman appeared thoughtful. "We'll miss you and Sofie."

      
Me and Sofie?

      
"And I know a doctor in Denver who might be able to help her."

      
"But...why would she want to go with me?" Luke gave a nervous laugh. Too nervous?

      
Roman arched a bushy white eyebrow. "I just assumed, since you arrived together, that you'd leave together."

      
"Oh, well, that would be her decision."
 
Liar
. Luke had no intention of taking Sofie with him when he left. And after last night, chances were she wouldn't want to go anywhere with him anyway.

      
After all, he was nothing more than a libidinous priest.

      
"I have to check Mr. Smith's wounds."
 
Roman stood and grabbed a small box off a shelf. "Dora made a soft hood for him. I'm not sure how he'll feel about wearing it, but I imagine once he gets a look at himself...."

      
Luke grimaced. "You mean he hasn't seen himself yet?"

      
"No."
 
The doctor sighed and lifted the gray hood from the box. "He's healed enough to discontinue the dressings, but I doubt he'll want anyone to see his face."

      
Luke had to agree. He'd seen enough of Mr. Smith's burns to realize how hideous his scars were. "Has he given you any information yet?"

      
"He tried to talk some last night."

      
"And?"

      
"Nothing I could understand, but I'm going to see if he can write something now."

      
"Good idea."

      
Dr. Wilson tucked a small slate under his arm and dropped a piece of chalk into his pocket. "Business is slow this morning, thank God."

      
"No kidding."
 
Luke stood and shoved his hands in his pockets, concerned that he'd left too much unresolved with Dr. Wilson. "Like you said before, once things are settled with Shane and Jenny, I'll be on my way."

      
"I hope Sofie will want to see Dr. Bowen in Denver."
 
Roman walked across the room, toward an adjoining doorway. "He's the only man I know who might be able to help her."

      
Help Sofie? In his heart, Luke wanted only the best for her, but as long as she was stranded in this time, maybe not remembering was the most merciful thing. And he knew it was best for him, but he tried not to dwell on that.

      
"Maybe Smith will be able to write his real name for me soon, so I can send word to his family."
 
Dr. Wilson moved toward the adjoining room.
 

      
Luke couldn't help remembering the maniacal look on Smith's face last night. It made no sense. It must have been a fluke, or a reaction to the drugs.

      
"That man had murder in his eyes...make no mistake," Marshal Weathers had said.
      

      
"I guess I'll see you tonight then."
 
Roman paused and exhaled in a loud whoosh. "If I live that long."

      
Luke chuckled, though he felt more like crying. "You'll do fine," he said quietly. "I'd better go back to the parsonage and practice this wedding stuff."

      
Dr. Wilson gave a nervous laugh and pushed open the door. "Thanks."
 
He slipped through the doorway.

      
Luke stared at the door for several moments, gathering his resolve. By God, this would be his final act as a priest. Enough was enough.

      
"Go with God, my son,"
the real Father Salazar had said.

      
Luke was certain joining unsuspecting people in less-than-holy matrimony wasn't quite what the old man had intended.

      
Sofie spent the rest of the day in the kitchen with Jenny. At ten, the little girl knew how to cook everything, including sourdough biscuits.

      
When Sofie'd first looked into the crock containing Mrs. Fleming's "starter," she'd almost dumped the mess out the back door. Gross was the only word to describe the fermented, bubbling stuff. However, Jenny assured her it was supposed to look and smell rotten.

      
Besides, learning to cook helped keep Sofie's mind off Luke, and gave her another opportunity to gain Jenny's trust. She hoped the child would confess the name of her father's killer soon. Their isolation for Jenny's protection had just begun, and already they had to miss a wedding.

      
"Where's Father Salazar?" Jenny asked late in the afternoon. The child stood at the table, stirring flour into cake batter. "I haven't seen him since this morning."

      
Thank goodness
. Sofie's hormones needed the reprieve. "He's practicing the wedding ceremony."

      
"I wish we could go."

      
"Well, we can't."
 
Sofie sighed dramatically, but didn't remind Jenny why they couldn't go to the wedding. That was far from necessary.

      
Jenny made a face but kept stirring. After a while, she poured the batter into pans and slid them into the oven. "We'll make frosting after these come out," she said. "They have to cool first anyway."

      
Sofie stuck her finger in the bowl and tasted the remaining batter. "Mmm, you're pretty good at this, kid."

      
With flour on the tip of her nose, Jenny smiled, then her expression grew solemn. "My mama taught me."

      
Sofie gave Jenny a hug. "I know, and you'll always have the things she taught you. Nobody can ever take those from you."
 
Unless you get amnesia, like me
.
 

      
"But you don't remember."

      
Sofie shook her head and sighed. "Nothing before the day I came here."
 
But that wasn't exactly true. She had begun to recall disjointed fragments of her past. Maybe someday there'd be enough scraps to piece into something as substantial as a lifetime. She could only hope.

      
"Can't Father Salazar help you remember stuff?"

      
Sofie shook her head and bit the inside of her cheek to silence what she really wanted to say. How could she continue to want him sexually, knowing he might very well be withholding information about her past? Maybe if she kept reminding herself of that fact, she'd have better luck managing her libido.

      
But his lips. His hands. She swallowed hard.

      
A knock at the back door jerked Sofie's thoughts into a safer zone. "Saved by the bell," she said, earning a curious frown from her cooking instructor. She peeked through the curtain first, then opened the door for Dr. Wilson.

      
Removing his hat, he sniffed the air appreciatively, while Sofie closed and bolted the door behind him. "Mmm, something smells wonderful in here."
 

      
"Wedding cake," Jenny announced with a grin.

      
Dr. Wilson blushed a bright shade of crimson against his white hair. "That's nice of you, Miss Jenny. Thank you."