Cindy Holby (33 page)

“Sounds downright sacrilegious to me,” the man at the bar said. The other five laughed. They were well trained. And watchful.

“Well I guess there’s just no denying it, when the mood strikes.” Ward sauntered up to the bar. He nodded at Bill who took a bottle from beneath. Watered-down whiskey. Very watered down, just enough of it in there to give it the amber color, and the smell, to convince whoever he needed to, that he was drinking. Bill poured the glass extra full and Ward tossed it back with a grateful smile. With luck they would see him as no threat. With even more luck, there would be no need for them to see him as a threat.

I should have put Lady outside…

“What brings you to our fair little town?” Ward leaned casually on the bar. Lady stood next to him. She seemed nervous and Ward appreciated her instincts. The man he talked to was shorter than him, thick with muscle, with
close-cropped reddish brown hair and small blue eyes that saw everything. They didn’t face each other; instead they both looked into the mirror. Behind them he saw the men, sitting around a table, and Pris, chatting them up as she carried them another tray of drinks.

“We’re looking for a friend. Haven’t seen him for a while. Thought he might have passed this way.”

Ward was instantly curious. Maybe this was the guy who’d attacked Timothy. Maybe this group was bounty hunters or a posse of some sort. Unless they were sworn officers of the law, they wouldn’t be forthcoming about it. “What does he look like? We don’t have many pass through here, and most make it a point to stop in here.”

“Tall as you, skinnier, dark hair, kind of long, dark eyes, good with a gun.” He tilted his head back as if he were thinking. His eyes stayed on Ward, even though he pretended to search the dark wood beams overhead. “Oh yeah, and he’s gut shot.”

It was years of experience that kept Ward from reacting to the description. The man he described sounded a lot like the preacher.

“This man have a name?”

“Last time I saw him his name was Cade Gentry.”

“Y
ou’re going to get sick if you keep going out without your coat,” Leah said, as Cade walked into the kitchen with Dodger on his heels as usual. She checked Banks’s homework as they sat at the table. Cade rubbed her son’s golden hair when he walked by and got a glass of water. He pumped some into Dodger’s bowl also and put it on the floor. Dodger lapped it up and then went to his corner to await his bowl of scraps after dinner. It was funny how they had so quickly fallen into a routine.

“I was in the shed, filling up all the holes. The coyotes have been digging around. You might need to invest in some fencing. With this early winter, they’re going to get more and more aggressive. You might wake up one morning and find one sitting on your back porch.” He looked out the window over the sink as he spoke. Was he avoiding her?

“Fencing is expensive,” she said. “And I missed a week of work.” She didn’t mention the rest. That the town had yet
to pay her for his upkeep. That he was supposed to eat at Dusty’s, so she didn’t have to bear the expense of feeding him. That he was a drain on her larder. That she didn’t know where she stood with him, even though he told her over and over again that he loved her.

Oh God, what if I get pregnant?
It was something she should be wary of, but she’d been so caught up in the moment…moments.

He sighed deeply as if he were worried. He leaned on the sink and put his head down. Was he praying?

“It’s just a thought,” he said finally. “I’d hate for Roscoe to lose any more of his harem.”

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

Cade nodded and sat down at the table. “What are you working on?” he asked Banks.

“Arithmetic,” Banks said. He turned his slate around so Cade could see. Once more Leah’s heart swelled at the sight of the two heads bent over, companionably close. Cade hung his arm over the back of Banks’s chair as he checked the problem in the book against the one on the slate. The man was so smart. He could have been a lawyer or a doctor, yet he chose to be a minister. It was a powerful calling; yet, again it just didn’t make sense. Leah went to her room.

A trunk sat at the foot of her bed. She removed the quilt that covered it and knelt before it. The hinges creaked as she opened it. Within it were some things she cherished. Carefully stitched baby clothes, and blankets, all washed and ironed and folded away in hopes of another little miracle. Leah’s cheeks turned fiery at the thought of it. What if she were pregnant by Cade? It would be a blessing in her mind. Would he think so? He made no mention of marriage, no mention of the future. Surely he didn’t think they could continue on this way?

On one side of the trunk was Nate’s hat. She didn’t know why she put it in the trunk, other than it was in the way and
she knew that the sight of it hanging on the hook in the back hall, where he always put it when he came in, would tear her heart out every time she looked at it. Leah lifted it carefully and held it before her. She nearly dropped it when a noise from outside startled her, a loud clank, followed by a rattle. The washtub had been blown from its hook by the wind.

The hat was more brown than black, with a pencil roll brim, well creased, and a silk band inside. Nate had been very proud of his hat. The outer band was of braided leather strips with silver pressed around the tips of the ends. It wasn’t a hat for a preacher, yet for some reason, Leah felt as if it would fit Cade perfectly. She carried it to the kitchen.

“I thought you could use this,” she said as she put it on the table before him.

He looked at it for a moment, his face wistful, and then he carefully picked it up and put it on. He bent his head forward and his fingers settled into the creases naturally. He wiggled it around a bit and it slid into place, a perfect fit. He smiled.

“You look different,” Banks said.

Her son was right. Even though Cade quickly took off the hat, she saw the effect. He seemed dangerous now. The eyes not so sad as much as deadly. A chill chased down her spine and she crossed her arms to counter it.

“Thank you,” he said. “It will come in handy.”

“You’re welcome.” She went to the stove and dished dinner onto their plates, surreptitiously stealing looks at Cade as she did. Something had changed. Something that scared her. She let Banks monopolize the conversation at dinner and Cade encouraged him as he rambled on about his day. When he was done she sent him to the parlor to do his reading.

“Can we play soldiers then?” he asked Cade.

“Sorry, Banks,” he replied. “I’ve got some reading to do too.” Was he finally preparing for his sermon now?

Banks stuck his bottom lip out, ready to protest. “Go,” she said. “There’s plenty of time for play later. And make sure you feed Ashes.”

Banks was sullen when he pushed his chair back. He poured milk from the crock and put it on the floor. Dodger looked at it hopefully as Banks stalked out of the room.

“No,” Leah said firmly. She looked around for Ashes, who usually showed up as soon as the bowl hit the floor but she was nowhere to be found. “Was Ashes outside with you?”

Cade stood at the counter, scraping plates. “No, I haven’t seen her since you came in. She didn’t go out with me.” She hadn’t. Leah recalled the cat sleeping on the sofa when she started dinner. As Cade left the kitchen he stopped and kissed her forehead. It was strange, how his kiss lingered and how quickly he turned away and left after, going into his room and firmly shutting the door behind him, leaving Dodger sitting in the hall with a strange look on his face. Dodger snuffed beneath the door before lying down with his nose at the crack with a heavy sigh.

Leah went out the back door. She picked up the washtub and hung it back on the hook. “Kitty?” she called out. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty!” There was no sign of her, no answer except the howl of the wind. It was near dark now and downright gloomy.

Leah went back inside. Cade’s door was still closed, Dodger still lay in the hall, Banks was pouting in the parlor and she felt ill at ease.

“Are you sure you didn’t let Ashes outside?” she asked her son.

“She might have gone out when I used the outhouse,” he mumbled.

“Banks Nathan Findley!” Leah’s patience was gone. “Put your coat on and go outside and look for her.”

“Aww…” Banks protested.

“Now!” She had had enough. Between worry over Cade’s
actions and Banks’s pouting and all the responsibility of trying to make a life for the two of them. And the big question that had suddenly come up to haunt her with a vengeance this day. Could she possibly have conceived a child?

She needed to talk to Cade. She needed to know where she stood with him. The only way she could talk to him freely was if Banks was out of the house. Banks let Ashes out and she was his responsibility. It was time he started to learn what being responsible was all about.

“It’s cold outside.” He stomped away. “I’m sleepy. I want to go to bed.”

“And how do you think Ashes feels?” Leah pointed a finger at the back door. “And no door slamming. Pastor Key is studying for his sermon on Sunday.” She didn’t mention that their yelling had more than likely already disturbed him. She was surprised that he hadn’t come out to see what the problem was.

“Take a lantern,” she reminded Banks. “And Dodger.”

She stood in the hallway and watched as he sighed and put his coat on. Sighed and pulled on his woolen cap. Sighed and got the lantern from the peg. Sighed when he opened the door and stepped out. “Come on Dodger,” he said with a sigh.

Leah motioned for Dodger to go, and he got up, slowly and with his own sigh, as if he were taking lessons from Banks. He walked to the door with his tail firmly down and between his legs as if she had sent him out to be beaten.

“Ashes!” Banks hollered as soon as he shut the door with exaggerated slowness.

Leah rubbed her forehead. A headache was there, just waiting to settle in. She knocked on Cade’s door. “Cade?” No answer. “Cade? We need to talk.” She slowly opened the door, expecting to find him sitting on his bed, with his Bible open and deep in study.

The room was empty. The Bible sat on the bedside table,
where it had remained all week. She would have thought it hadn’t been moved except a folded piece of paper stuck out of the pages. His notes, she assumed, and a marked passage for his sermon. The pegs where his clothes hung were empty of everything except the shirt that belonged to Nate.

She hadn’t heard him leave. Did he go out to search for Ashes when he heard her and Banks quarreling? Strange that he didn’t say anything, stranger that Dodger didn’t go with him, as the dog was devoted to him. And why hadn’t Dodger moved from his spot by the door? Did Cade step over him?

Leah put a hand to her heart. For some reason, it suddenly hurt.

Cade was lucky once more. The weather was perfect for his escape. The wind, which was fast enough to rattle the windows and doors, covered any noise he made and the half moon gave just enough light for him to see his way. Occasional clouds scuttled across the sky, which helped him to blend into the shadows. He wore the hat low over his face to hide the pale hue of his skin and the long coat, which moved with the wind, made him part of the landscape, if anyone so happened to come out of the back of their houses or look out the windows.

His horse would be a problem. The animal was light gray in color and dappled. Hard to find in the snow but easy to spot in the moonlight. Since he’d spent so much time around the stables working on the doors for Leah, the animals were used to him. Even Libby, who only tossed her head when he sneaked through the corral door. The cat blinked curiously from her bed when he walked in and his horse, who he had tempted with bits of dried apple all week came to him easily.

“I need to pick out a name for you.” He rubbed the long
nose as the animal munched on the apple. “Since we’re going to be together for a while I’ll have to think on it. Find something that’s just right.” He quietly saddled up and led his mount out of the stable and down the fence line to a gate that let out at the stream. His saddlebags were stashed on the opposite bank. It was just a matter of tying them on, mounting up, and leaving.

So why was it proving to be the hardest thing he’d ever done?

The town lay peaceful before him. Lights twinkled in the windows as the folk, safe and warm inside, settled in for the night. He’d be long gone come morning, longer still by Sunday. He’d left a letter for Leah, in the Bible, along with most of his money. He told her to buy a fence to protect the chickens. He told her he wasn’t who she thought he was, but didn’t go into detail. He told her he loved her and he was sorry. He told her to marry Jake Reece. He asked her to forgive him and told her he’d never forget her.

The yip of coyotes sounded in the woods, right behind Leah’s house. His horse pricked his ears in the direction and tossed his head nervously. They were close, after the easy pickings of Leah’s chickens. He’d done what he could for her and for the chickens.

“Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.” Cade quieted his horse and put his foot in the stirrup. As soon as he was mounted he heard a screech.
What was that?
Then barking. Then voices calling out.