Authors: Jillian Hart
Calico Bride (11 page)
The saloon was quiet this time of day and stuffy with the stale odors from the night before. Dank cigar smoke and spilled whiskey tainted the air as he sidled up on a stool. The barkeep nodded to Dobbs and hurried over with a bottle and two shot glasses, which he filled.
"Good to see you, Sheriff. Deputy." The barkeep nodded, set the bottle on the counter and backed away warily.
Warily. That was interesting. Burke had to wonder why. He made a mental note to talk to the man after hours when Dobbs wouldn't be around. He waited for the sheriff to reach for his glass first.
"Accusing Lawson of stealing his own horses and goods for the attention." Dobbs rasped out a grating chuckle. He downed the whiskey in one swallow. "You should have seen the look on his weak face. That storekeeper is getting on my last nerve."
"I can see why." The glass felt cool as he dragged it on the bar in front of him. He was no longer a fifteen-year-old boy impressed by whiskey. He let it sit. "You told Arthur to get out of your sight and he went."
"Spooked like a scared jackrabbit." Dobbs upended the bottle and poured another generous shot. "Got no backbone. None of "em do. How about you, Roger? Do you got a spine?"
The barkeep startled. Tension crept into his jawline.
"That's what I thought." The sheriff barked out another harsh chuckle. "Chickens. I got no respect for "em."
Dobbs was busy gulping his whiskey, so he didn't notice how Burke pressed his lips tight against the glass so none of the liquid did more than wet his upper lip when he tipped it.
"You've got me wondering who took the horses." He set the glass down.
"Why do you think I would know?" Dobbs plunked down the bottle. "Do you know what I think, Hannigan?"
"I'm curious." He ran his finger around the rim of the glass.
"I think you play the good guy when it suits you, but you're as black as sin underneath." The sheriff knocked back another double shot. "I caught up with a few friends of mine the other day. One of them says he knows you."
His pulse kicked up a notch. He didn't let it show. "Cheever?"
"Guess I know why you didn't shoot him that day in the street." Dobbs knocked back another shot, emptying the glass. "It ain't nice to shoot a friend."
"True." His mouth soured as time rolled back. Memories he would rather stay forgotten surged into his thoughts, filling his head with images he could not stop and blotted out the present. The past came alive as the scent of the whiskey on the bar mixed with the scent from the bottle on the hot August evening. In the Cheever cabin, fifteen-year-old Burke had tossed his bedroll and mended satchel on the floor. Dust clouded upward and he coughed.
"This your friend?" Old Man Cheever reeked of cigar smoke and whiskey. He had a grizzled, unkempt appearance. His untrimmed mustache and beard gave him a wild look, or maybe that was the dead gleam in his eyes.
"Pa, this is Burke." Olly spat out a stream of tobacco juice on the floor. "He's the best shot I ever saw."
"That so? I hear you need a job, boy." When he grinned, four teeth were missing as if he'd taken a hard fist to the mouth. One tooth had a jagged, broken look to it. "I'll give you a dollar a day, the first month up front."
"Really?" He hadn't expected that. Thirty whole dollars. He stared in amazement as Olly's father reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick fold of paper money. He'd never seen so many greenbacks in his life.
"Hold out your hand." Mr. Cheever laid a twenty-dollar bill on it and a ten. "There you are. Thirty dollars. What kind of gun you got?"
"A long rifle. I picked it up for painting an old lady's house on my time off five weeks ago. I haven't had it long." He stared at the money. He was rich. And there was more to come. He could earn it. Think how that would improve his life. No more beatings. No more farmers who couldn't care less about him. "I could get better. I just need to practice more."
"Boy, you aren't seeing the larger picture here. No way am I letting you do security work with a gun that's no better than garbage. Here's a Winchester. Brand-new." Olly's pa shoved the fold of money into his shirt pocket and grabbed a rifle among many leaning against the wall by the open door. "This is yours."
"I can't afford it. Yet."
"It's my gift to you. Welcome to the gang." He tossed it over. "You hungry? Did you get something to eat?"
"Not enough." His stomach rumbled at the mention of food, but he couldn't take his eyes off the rifle. The black barrel was sleek and shiny, not a scratch on it. The stock was polished walnut and smooth as silk. He ran his hands over the gleaming wood and glossy steel. He'd never owned anything so nice.
"There's some rabbit stew and corn bread left from supper." Olly held out a plate. "Eat until you're full. There's plenty."
Burke had been hungry for so long. He'd been fed, but he hadn't been fed until he was full. The farmer had called second helpings an indulgence, but Burke figured the man and his wife were cheap. They didn't want to spend a penny more than they had to to feed him. Unable to let go of the rifle, he tucked it in the crook of his arm and grabbed the plate. On it was a thick chunk of buttered corn bread and a full bowl of steaming stew. His stomach growled and he ate standing up, shoveling spoonful after spoonful into his mouth.
"You've got a home now, boy," Old Man Cheever said. "You've got a place to belong. Don't you worry."
Burke swallowed hard, stopping the memory before it could carry him any further into the past to a place he could not bear to recall. He pushed away from the bar. "Cheever is my oldest friend. His old man gave me my first Winchester."
"So he told me." Dobbs hopped down from the stool, not bothering to pay. "He also said you went missing one night after a heist."
"Missing? Things went south, and I got left behind." Burke hopped off the stool, bitterness darkening him. "I was shot. Too injured to move."
"They thought you were dead." Dobbs pushed through the swinging doors into the blaring heat. Dust swirled in the air, stirred by a strong wind and traffic on the side street. "Imagine their surprise to see you alive with a tin star on your chest."
"A man's got to make a living." He could feel the sheriff's quandary. If he pushed too hard to make the man believe him, then it might backfire. He had to sound casual. "I spent a stretch of time in prison. They commuted the term when I convinced them I was reformed."
"God bless parole." Dobbs chuckled.
"I keep my nose clean most of the time." He shrugged as he took his time moseying down the boardwalk. "Now and then an opportunity comes along to help out an old friend or a new one."
"To think at one time I feared you might be too squeaky clean to be of any use. Glad I was wrong." Dobbs slapped him on the back.
Pain shot through his chest as his wounds protested. Burke covered his groan with a barking laugh. "Me, squeaky clean?"
"I thought you might be investigating me, boy." Dobbs appeared relaxed about that now. "I haven't been able to stop all the complaints against me. I know a man or two who wrote to the governor's office."
"There's a whiner in every crowd."
"You just gotta know how to silence "em." Dobbs's gaze narrowed.
Burke's guts cinched. He figured the sheriff still had his suspicions, but at least he'd made a step in the right direction. A buttery blur on the boardwalk across the street caught his attention.
Lila. She handed over a small sack of flour out to her father, who was waiting on the wagon seat, with the wind swirling her skirts and trying to steal tendrils from her braids. The sunshine dimmed as she swiveled and saw him stopped in the middle of the boardwalk, with Dobbs patting his shoulder again.
"I'm gonna trust you, boy." The sheriff growled. "If you cross me, I'll make you sorry you was ever born."
Burke nodded, his throat too tight to speak for Lila's face wreathed with confusion and emotions he was too far away to read, but he could feel.
Did she know he hated what he'd said to her father? Surely she could piece together that he was investigating Dobbs. And why was he upset about it? He had to let her go. He'd been able to fool himself yesterday thinking he could ignore the past, but today was a new day. The past was alive and littered with things no one could forgive.
"Looks like a storm's blowin' in." Dobbs marched on a few paces. "C'mon, boy. Don't go moonin' after that calico. She's out of your league."
He couldn't argue with that. He drank in one long last look before he strode away, knowing she watched him the whole length of the street.
Chapter Eleven
"I
an's grandmother is such a dear," Fiona McPherson stitched on the gingham tablecloth she was hemming. "I'm so glad she lives with us. She is a blessing to my life."
"A new husband, a new grandmother." Lila paused with her needle in midair. They were tucked on Scarlet's roomy porch where the wind rattled the leaves shading the Fisher family home on the quiet end of Third Street. "You finally have the family you deserve."
"I am blessed." Fiona sighed, the dear that she was, her dark curls framing her heart-shaped face. Her wedding ring glinted in the light. "These past months being married to Ian have been the happiest I've ever known."
"It shows." Kate smiled as she poked her needle through the fabric stretched across her embroidery hoop. "I'm praying each coming year of your marriage is more joyous than the last."
"Me, too," Ruby chimed in as she worked loose a knot in her thread. "You and Ian seem made for each other."
"A fairy tale come true," Earlee agreed as she pinned a section of a skirt she was cutting down for her sister. "Speaking of fairy-tale loves, has anyone heard from Meredith lately?"
"No," Lila admitted. "I got sidetracked and only finished a letter to her on my way here."
"I wonder what sidetracked her," Ruby said, not so innocently. "Or should I ask, who?"
"The handsome new deputy." Scarlet's crochet hook stilled. "I saw them driving through town together."
"Burke was helping me with my deliveries." Lila's face heated. She had to be shining like a strawberry, which made her remember how he'd handed her a berry when they had been at the river together. He'd practically fed it to her, and then his kiss'¦ She blushed harder.
"Somehow I don't think he was only helping her." Ruby tossed a light blond braid over her shoulder, sweet as could be. "I think he was beauing her."
"Maybe there will be another engagement soon," Earlee speculated. "First Fiona, then Meredith. Are you next, Lila?"
"Hardly, as my father has forbidden me to see Burke." There was more, but she wasn't ready to talk about it or to dim their merry gathering with unhappy talk.
"Burke, is it?" Fiona plucked a pin from her work and dropped it into her pin box. Her needle flashed as she worked. "You and the deputy are on a first-name basis. That's a good sign. You're being awfully quiet, Kate."
"I've got my floss in a twist." Kate bent over her hoop, fiddling with the beautiful blue floss.
"Does anyone else notice how red Lila is turning?" Earlee squinted as she threaded her needle.
"Why are you forbidden to see the deputy?" Ruby asked as she went back to stitching a patch on her father's work shirt. "Doesn't your pa approve of him?"
"Is it because he's older than you?" Scarlet stopped counting her stitches to ask.
Lila studied her friends' curious faces, all glowing with expectant happiness for her. They had the wrong idea, all but Kate. Worry dug fine crinkles into Kate's brow. Her friend would never admit it but she didn't approve of Burke. She knew how it looked. She was confused by his behavior, too.
"There's no engagement in our future." She may as well nip those hopes in the bud before her dear friends started planning an engagement party. "I only just met him and besides, he's not the settling-down type."
"That's what I think, too," Kate spoke up in her gentle, caring manner. Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, as if she had been more than worried. "I'm sure he's nice enough, but a man like that has a past."
"Ooh, it's like an adventure novel," Earlee spoke up, delighted. "The rugged, dangerous hero breezes into town and captures the heroine's heart."
"But then he rides out of town after all wrongs are righted," Lila finished. "I read the same stories."
"Because you lend me your books," Earlee quipped.
"Those kinds of stories don't end in marriage," Lila pointed out, quite practically. No one might guess how much it hurt to admit. When he was gone, the tenderness of his embrace and the beauty of his kiss would stay with her always. "I'm not in love with him and I won't fall in love with him. We're just friends."
"That's how it started with Ian and me," Fiona pointed out sweetly.
"And remember Meredith and Shane?" Earlee added. "Do you see a pattern, Lila?"
"I see a bunch of romantics on this porch." She rolled her eyes and went back to basting the tucks in the waistband of the calico apron she was sewing. Another item for her hope chest, which was getting quite full. She noticed Kate hadn't said anything more but had bent her head over her work. "Kate and I spotted Lorenzo in town yesterday."
"Lorenzo." Scarlet sighed. "I've caught brief glimpses of him in church this summer, but that's all. How is he going to fall in love with me if he never gets the chance to see me?"
"Or me?" Kate joined the conversation quietly.
"I know he's not about to fall for me." Ruby sighed, too. "I don't think he even knows my name."
"You might be surprised," Lila spoke up, remembering catching Lorenzo Davis watching Ruby a while ago. "After all, someone has to end up with him. He'll get married eventually."
"Maybe when he has stopped pining for Fiona," Scarlet speculated. "Fiona, you broke his heart."
"I didn't mean to. I was never interested in him. I was never interested in anyone." She laughed, a musical happy sound, proof that her life had transformed from sadness to joy. "Remember how I wasn't going to marry anyone? I was going to move far away so I would never have to see my parents again."
"You didn't have to move so far to escape them, and we're glad." Lila reached out and covered Fiona's hand with her own. Understanding between all of them settled silently, a lifelong love of friendship that God had blessed them with. A blessing she would never take for granted.
"Who wants some lemonade?" Scarlet asked, setting down her crocheting. "I made sugar cookies to go along with it."
"Me!" Fiona and Kate called out.
"Me!" Earlee, Scarlet and Ruby chorused together.
"I'll help you," Lila offered and secured her needle in the pinned seam. At least the conversation had safely turned away from Burke. She hoped it would stay that way. With the secret memory of his kiss to smile over, she followed Scarlet into the house.
"
Something in the vicinity of his chest tugged hard, like a lasso tightening. Burke didn't have to turn down the street to know Lila was near. The sight of her captivated him, left him unable to think, much less breathe. She strolled along the boardwalk swinging a woven sewing basket. Carefree and lovely in a light yellow cotton gown, she was as breathtaking as a sun dawning. Her simple bonnet tied with a matching yellow ribbon hid most of her cinnamon-brown locks except for the unruly bouncy curls that framed the graceful curve of her face.
Softer emotions threatened him. He clamped his jaw. Maybe he would turn back around on his patrol so she wouldn't spot him. The taint of his past clung to him as he headed in the other direction past the feed store. It would be best to keep away from her. It would be doing her a kindness.
"You're not foolin' me one bit." A strapping man in a muslin shirt and denims pushed out of the store's front door. Devin Winters's hands fisted in what appeared to be anger. "I heard what you did to Arthur."
"I didn't do a thing." He planted his feet and resisted the urge to check over his shoulder to see if Lila was in hearing range. "You are misinformed."
"Hardly." Disdain soured Mr. Winters's face. "Arthur doesn't lie and he didn't beat himself in the head. You know that as well as I do."
"I was merely making on observation is all." The back of his neck tingled. That always happened when Lila was near. Her presence tugged at his soul in a way he could not deny. He swallowed hard and faced the shopkeeper. "Have you had any problems lately? Anything stolen? Is there something I can help you with?"
"Nothing I would want to talk to you about. If my wagon needs a repaired spoke or my horse throws a shoe, I'll give a holler." Scorn laced his words as he turned and went back into his shop.
Burke hardly noticed. Horses and their drivers, teamsters and their wagons and pedestrians on the boardwalks hurried by, yet he saw nothing but Lila. Her skirt snapped with her gait. The low melody of her voice rose and fell as she talked quietly with her friend. Above all the noises on the street, hers was the only thing he could hear, the only sound that kept him riveted. Air stalled in his chest as he watched her tap along the opposite boardwalk, growing smaller with distance.
Utter sweetness. Her kiss had been just as pure as she was. The memory of being with her and splashing together in the cool river refreshed his dusty soul. He wished he could call out her name, cross the street and have the pleasure of talking with her, the way a courting man would. But he could never court her. Love whispered through him and he kept his boots rooted to the planks of the boardwalk. He did not call out her name. He did not rush across the street.
Who knew a man like him could love anyone?
As though hearing his silent question, she chose that moment to glance over her shoulder. Time stood still. Nothing moved and no one else existed but the two of them. Their gazes caught and held. Wholesome longing filled him up. Was she feeling this, too?
She broke away before he could tell. She swirled down the street, swinging her basket and talking with her friend. Had nothing passed between them? He hung his head. The pain burrowing into his chest was no longer a physical one.
"
"Those strawberries look too good to pass up." Cora Sims, the good customer that she was, set her full basket on the counter. "I must have at least a half quart."
"I'll let you pick your own." Lila gestured toward the counter. "Go on back and take which container you would like."
"Thank you kindly." Cora efficiently circled around the counter, probably used to doing so a dozen or more times a day in her dress shop. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone looking for a job, would you?"
"Not outright." Lila opened the sales book, inked her pen and lifted the first item out of the top of Cora's basket. "I could ask my friends just to be sure. Why, do you know of an opening?"
"I plan on hiring a store manager to assist me when I get married next month." Cora chose one of the little buckets of strawberries and wove around to the front of the counter. In the back of the store, Eunice cleared her throat in protest and a bolt of fabric hit the cutting counter exceptionally hard. Cora gracefully pretended not to notice. "I want to start someone now to train them. Ideally, I would like to hire you, but I know that's impossible."
Across the store, the bolt of fabric hit the counter with another hard
thump, thump
.
"Can you imagine? My parents would forbid it." She tallied another purchase with a fast scratch of her pen. "I'm afraid I am in this store for life."
"As you ought to be," Cora agreed warmly. "But if you have a friend just like you, I would hire her in an instant. It comes with generous pay and a room, as the renter in the upstairs apartment above my store just moved out. I still plan to work at the shop, just not long hours. I would give whoever I hired a lot of say in how she did her job."
"Sounds wonderful to me." Realizing she had spoken without thinking, Lila blushed. She wondered what Eunice would thump around on the counter next. "Will this be on your account?"
"Please." Cora waited politely while Lila wrapped up her purchases and handed over the pail of strawberries.
"Have a nice evening," she wished and followed Cora to the door. She opened it for her. Hot humid dusty air breezed in as Cora stepped out. Since it was the end of the business day, Lila cheerfully turned the lock and flipped the sign in the window around to Closed.
"What do you think you are up to, young lady?" Eunice's terse tone reverberated against the walls of the empty store. Her heels tapped a staccato rhythm, drawing closer. "You are not in charge of this store, Lila. You are given rules to follow for a reason."
"I know." She added Cora's total in her head, double-checked it and scribbled it down in the ledger.
"Then explain this," Eunice demanded.
A thick fold of fawn-colored fabric landed on the counter in front of her. The material she'd saved for Mrs. Olaff.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Every yard-age of material that is cut has to be paid for immediately." Eunice held her hands out helplessly. "This is not your store, Lila, as much as you would like it to be. Which customer do we bill?"
"I will take care of it." She tore off a length of wrapping paper. "I will take it over to Mrs. Olaff this evening."
"And you will explain to her the policy again. That woman thinks she can have her way just because her husband is the superintendent of the county schools. She is not above having to pay for her purchases."
"I was trying to do her a favor." She carefully wrapped the beautiful fabric and tied it with white string. Immediately, she regretted her words.
"Your allegiance must be to this business, Lila."
Help me to show compassion, Lord.
She thought of all the kind things her stepmother did for Pa. She thought of how Eunice had taken charge of the household when she and Lark had struggled with it after Ma's passing. Eunice had straightened out the chaos the store had been in, for Pa had gone through a hard grieving period. No one was perfect, and Eunice gave the family her best.
The back door opened and boots strode in the hallway. Pa strode in, sweeping off his hat to fan himself, a little dusty from his afternoon on the country roads. "It was a relief to have the Pawal boy ride with me. He's a strapping kid. The two of us didn't have a lick of trouble."