Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (18 page)

She had no cause to resent the woman’s relationship with her Maker; Lucinda had lived a good life and deserved to have His ear. But Kate didn’t have the heart to tell her that, while the Lord may have answered many of Lucinda’s other prayers, those involving her would not take shape.

When she was a child, Kate and her mama had been regular churchgoers. Her faith had been strong, her trust in the Lord deep and steady. But her pa’s death and her ma’s suicide, followed by her stepfather’s abuse and later attempt to use her to pay off a poker debt, had changed all that. How could she trust in a Being who had allowed her to become an orphan? If He was all-knowing, wouldn’t He have seen those events brewing? And, if He truly was all-powerful, why hadn’t He prevented them?

When she’d set out on her own at the tender age of twelve, Kate had stopped going to church. She had prayed from time to time, but since the Almighty had never seen fit to answer, she’d eventually stopped doing that, too. Building a wall between herself and God had been so much less painful than admitting He didn’t think her worthy of His time. Maybe, someday, He’d show her the reasons why He’d abandoned her, but, until then, why risk heaping disappointment atop the hurt by asking for things that would never be delivered?

Kate admired Lucinda’s confidence in the Lord. But why wouldn’t she believe, when, in answer to her prayers, the Lord had delivered a cure when George had nearly died from cholera and had brought them safely across the Rio Grande, despite a ferocious clash between two bandit gangs? Lucinda had prayed for work, and the Nevilles had hired her and George; she’d prayed for a home, and a small cottage had been provided as a part of their salary. So, when Lucinda asked God for the quick and complete healing of her ankle on her behalf, the woman had no reason to believe He wouldn’t answer her.

It confused Kate no end to admit that she only half wanted that healing, because, once she could stand and walk and run again, she’d have to leave this wonderful place and the wonderful people who called it home.

Self-pity grew into sorrow as she faced more cold, hard facts: If the Texas Rangers realized their error in riding away from the shack without her in tow, they could track her to the Lazy N and cart her off to jail to await a trial. And with no one to testify on her behalf, the judge would probably assume that she’d willingly participated in the bank heist, and only Lucinda’s beloved God knew what sentence the man might hand down. Even worse than that, Josh and his family would see her as guilty, too.

If, on the other hand, Frank and his cohorts found her before the Rangers did, the Nevilles and every one of their loyal employees would pay a price for her cowardice and stupidity. Like it or not—and she most certainly did not—Kate had no choice but to put this place behind her.

Far, far behind her.

She could only hope that the God who answered Lucinda’s prayers would allow her to hold fast to the fond memories she’d made during her time with the Neville family, because she’d have little else to warm her cold, lonely heart when she left them.

“Here you go, carina,” Lucinda said, interrupting her gloomy trance. “The iron—be careful! Está caliente!”

Kate had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard the woman come back into the room, let alone set the tool onto the hot stove to warm it up. If she knew what was good for her, she’d get a handle on her musing, because Frank was more mountain lion than man, stealthy and silent and capable of pouncing before his unwitting prey realized that a predator had been stalking nearby.

Kate exhaled a long sigh as Lucinda plopped a small pile of red-and-white-checkered tablecloths and napkins onto the tabletop. “Call me when the iron cools, ho-kay, so I can heat it up again for you?”

A huge sob of self-pity ached in her throat, and Kate didn’t trust her ability to speak without letting it out. So, instead, she fixed a stiff smile onto her face and spread the first napkin onto the ironing pad.

Oh, how she’d miss this dear, sweet woman!

How she’d miss everyone at the Lazy N, from Josh’s warmhearted, welcoming parents to sweet, funny Sarah, who seemed determined to turn Kate into her living, breathing look-alike, to Susan, who took her jobs as Sam’s wife and Willie’s mother so seriously that she sometimes forgot to smile.

Then, there were Josh’s cousins, affectionately known as the “Bible Boys,” because, like their fathers before them, each bore a name taken straight from the pages of the Good Book.

Joshua, the eldest of the foursome, played the big brother role very well, always making himself available to lend an ear or offer advice—or to dole out some good-natured teasing.

Daniel, just two months younger than Josh, had long ago become the family’s self-appointed comedian, cracking jokes and poking fun at himself every chance he got. He’d shared with Kate his dream of someday becoming a pastor, but, for now, family duty called louder than seminary.

It hadn’t taken her much time at all to figure out that Micah, lovingly dubbed by the family as the “Quiet One,” was anything but! She almost didn’t mind those nights when sleep eluded her, because, more often than not, he’d join her on the big, covered porch for long conversations. It was easy to tell that this cousin had developed strong views on an extensive collection of topics—and he wasn’t afraid to share them!

Like his biblical namesake, the youngest male cousin, Paul, loved to write, and he scribbled in his notebook every chance he got. When Kate had asked to read his work, he’d agreed, on the grounds that she promised never to tell anyone what he’d written. She’d thought it a shame that he wanted to keep those skillfully crafted poems all to himself, and so she’d been trying to think of a way to talk him into sharing them. The idea had come to her after dinner one night, when little Willie had sung a Bible verse set to a tune for easier memorization. That same evening, Kate had suggested that Paul set his sonnets to music, and, within the week, almost everyone at the Lazy N had been singing his beautiful words.

Kate found it hard to believe that she’d been able to develop a deep, powerful bond with each of them in such a short period of time. Even more amazing was that they seemed to feel the same way about her. As she spread a napkin onto the ironing table, she remembered a poem she’d read years ago, in which the author had written about the pain of sacrifices made in love. If she thought for one minute that God would hear her prayers, she’d ask Him to help her learn to live without these good people. Because leaving here was the right thing to do—and also the most heartbreaking thing she could imagine.

22

Kate leaned against a porch post and surveyed acre upon acre of gently undulating hills, some peppered with contented cattle, others shimmering with emerald-green stalks of corn. A sense of pride bubbled inside her as she watched the cows lumber lazily in search of sweeter grass. How much more delightful would it feel, she wondered, if she’d earned the right to drink in this beautiful panorama by dint of her own sacrifice and hard work, as the Nevilles had?

Closing her eyes, she slowly inhaled, drinking in the heady scents that rode the dry, Texas wind, savoring the sensation as each current caressed her cheeks, as every wisp of wind tousled her hair. Learn it by heart, she told herself, because, too soon, all of this will be nothing but a beautiful memory.

The breeze picked up and set the hems of the tablecloths flapping like red-and-white-checkered flags. Lucinda had told her how Cal, the blacksmith, had fashioned the metal clamps that held them in place, adding that he was a man of many talents. He’d made the two-story arch that welcomed one and all to the Lazy N Ranch from wrought iron. If she needed a new wooden spoon, Joseph, the carpenter, would carve one. And, if the handle of her stew pot ever came loose, George would fix it. Kate realized that everyone associated with the Nevilles had been absorbed into the family, and their pride and love for one another was as obvious as the ache in her heart.

This was no time to dwell on her disappointments and regrets. Lucinda still had many chores to do, and she needed Kate’s help to complete them all before the guests started arriving.

She focused on the long makeshift tables separating the back gardens from the nearly parched creek bed and knew they’d soon bow under the weight of platters of fried chicken and bowls mounded high with potatoes and biscuits. For now, only stacks of stoneware plates and baskets of flatware had been neatly positioned at the head and foot of each table. Kate had seen similar displays at town festivals and city fairs, but never so much in one place, all for one family!

She quickly corrected herself, for the feast wasn’t just for the Nevilles. The ranch hands, their families, and most of the neighbors would attend, as well. She’d met a few of them, but most were total strangers. She didn’t need to shake their hands and exchange friendly greetings to know they’d do everything in their power to make her feel part of the community.

She was counting along as the big clock in the hall gonged eleven times when a heart-stirring, baritone voice interrupted her thoughts. “You look mighty pretty today.”

She turned slightly to face him and willed herself not to react to Josh’s handsome smile or the warm light emanating from those oh-so-blue eyes. Under other circumstances, Kate might have returned the compliment, for he looked regal in his bright-white shirt and the dark-blue string tie, which matched his trousers. He’d slicked back his shoulder-length, golden curls, and she resisted the urge to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind his ear. “Thanks,” she said, one hand fluttering at the collar of her blouse—one he’d bought her while they had been on the trail. Why, oh why, she wondered, facing the fields again, did she feel as though she might cry?

He leaned closer. “Will you come inside with me?” His breath tickled her ear when he added, “I’d like you to meet my grandmother.”

She had just returned from her sister’s house in Amarillo. Forcing a smile, Kate met his gaze. “So, I take it she’s recuperated from her long trip?”

“I reckon. But even if she hasn’t, I’ve never known her to miss a party.” He took her elbow and led her into the house. “She’s in the parlor, sipping lemonade. Ma made it special for her, since it’s her favorite drink.”

“Goodness, she must feel like a queen, with lemons being so hard to come by—”

“Trust me,” he said, quirking one brow, “my grandmother is one woman who doesn’t need lemonade to feel like a queen!”

“Well, I suppose that’s her right, considering all she did to help turn this ranch into a successful operation.”

Josh stopped dead in his tracks and blocked her path. “I don’t think anyone has ever acknowledged that before. At least, not out loud.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “You’re something else, Dinah Theodore. Mee-Maw is going to love you.”

He started for the foyer, but she grabbed his wrist and stopped him. She had to stall him so that she could gather her wits, plan a few good answers to the woman’s inquiries. “Before we go in,” Kate whispered, “do you mind answering a few questions?”

Josh glanced at the fingers she’d wrapped around his wrist, then fixed his azure gaze upon her face. “Such as?”

She couldn’t very well admit that the prospect of meeting the family matriarch terrified her, now, could she? But it had been her experience that older people had a knack for spotting phonies—and a tendency to say exactly what was on their minds. What if Josh’s grandmother gave her a thorough interrogation, took her measure, and…. The thought was too unnerving to complete!

“Why do you call her Mee-Maw, instead of something more dignified?”

Josh chuckled. “It’s no big mystery,” he began, taking her hands in his own. “When the lot of us were knee-high to boll weevils, ‘Mee-Maw’ was easier to say than ‘Grandma.’” He shrugged a shoulder and arched one eyebrow. “It won’t take a minute for you to figure out that she wouldn’t feel the least bit comfortable with something more…‘dignified.’”

Kate exhaled a shuddering breath.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re afraid to meet a kindly old woman—”

“Of course not.” But even before uttering the final word of her sentence, she felt the heat of a blush creep into her cheeks. “It isn’t that I’m afraid, exactly. It’s just—well, I want to make a good impression, that’s all.” She swallowed. “How much…. What have you told her about me?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his smile became a wily smirk. He studied her face in silence for a moment before saying, “That you’re on the run from the Texas Rangers, who hope to hang you for murder and bank robbery.”

Kate snatched back her hands, wondering as she shoved them into her apron pockets if it was possible for a human heart to thump so hard it could leap clean out of a person’s chest. Her skin grew clammy as a chill snaked up her spine, just as it had that night in the shack. Waves of wooziness fogged her brain, and her mouth went as dry as fresh-picked cotton. She pressed her back against the cool, plaster wall, shut her eyes tight, and slid slowly to the floor.

“Good gravy!” Josh said, crouching beside her. “What in tarnation…?” She opened her eyes, and he lifted her chin on a bent forefinger and studied her face. “I was only—”

“Joshing?”

Her feeble attempt to lighten the mood fell on deaf ears—that much was evident by the stern set to his manly jaw. “I know you believe you’ve been helpful, spending all that time on your feet to help Lucinda, but I think you’re in more pain than you’ll admit. And I think you’ve been skipping meals, too.”