Tomorrow's Garden (26 page)

“I’d better go too.” Lawrence stood, extending his hand to help Harriet rise. Surely it was her imagination that he held it a bit longer than necessary, that he pressed it tighter than convention demanded. Oh, her traitorous imagination! Ever since the night when he’d kissed her hand, she had been filled with memories of how sweet that had felt and wishes that he would repeat it. Harriet’s face flushed as she admitted her dreams had been for more than a simple repetition. She had dreamt of Lawrence kissing not her hand but her lips. Foolish, foolish Harriet! Lawrence was her friend. A good friend, it was true, but merely a friend.

“What a wonderful day.” Ruth sighed with pleasure after she closed the door behind the two men.

It had been wonderful. The day that had begun so well had continued to improve. Everyone seemed happy, and Ruth . . . well, the change in Ruth could only be called miraculous. Harriet’s formerly reclusive sister had been almost vivacious this afternoon, laughing and actually initiating conversation. The difference was so dramatic that it brought to mind a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. What could have caused the change? Harriet thought back over the day’s events, recalling the flush that had colored her sister’s cheeks when Lawrence and Sterling had arrived and the way she had smiled when she and Sterling had conversed. Was he the cause? She knew they were friends, but perhaps there was more than friendship. Could it be that her sister harbored tender feelings for the minister?

Harriet frowned. Though many girls were married by the time they reached Ruth’s age, her sister’s life had been so sheltered that Harriet did not believe she was ready for such a change. And, if she were being truthful, she wasn’t ready, either. Ruth was an integral part of the family. What would they do without her? Suddenly, the bright and shiny, almost perfect day lost its sheen.

Despite efforts to regain her earlier pleasure, when night fell, Harriet was still feeling disgruntled. Realizing there was no point in inflicting her malaise on the rest of the family, she grabbed her cloak and headed outside. Perhaps a brisk walk would restore her spirits. Instead of turning down rue du Marché, as she normally did, tonight she wanted to walk beside the river, and so she continued along Rhinestrasse, not even slowing when she passed the school.

“May I join you?”

Harriet spun around, her spirits rising as fast as Independence Day fireworks at the sound of Lawrence’s voice. “Please do.” The gloomy thoughts that had plagued her fled, replaced by a swift rush of pleasure.

Harriet smiled as he crooked his arm, inviting her to tuck her hand into it. “We can turn around,” she offered. “I was going to walk by the river, but there’s no need to do that.” Though gently flowing water soothed her, she knew it had the opposite effect on Lawrence.

“I don’t mind as long as you stay close to me. You’ll be safe if you’re holding on to me.”

She would indeed, for his arm was strong and comforting, giving her the sensation of being next to a bulwark. There was no danger of falling into the water while she was clasping Lawrence’s arm.

When they reached the river, they turned left, heading in the same direction they had taken the night of the fall festival. Tonight, though, there were no sounds of revelers in the distance, nothing but the normal squeaks and slithers of nocturnal creatures.

“I want to thank you again for your invitation,” Lawrence said as they strolled slowly along the Medina’s bank. “This was the best Christmas I can recall.”

Now that she was with him, that was true for her once again. Being with Lawrence restored her equilibrium and revived memories of the happy day. “I feel that way too,” Harriet said, tightening her grip on his arm ever so slightly. Though she did not need the physical support, the warmth that emanated from his sleeve reassured her. “I was a little worried about my family, wondering if they’d miss Fortune. They don’t have a lot of happy memories of it, but it was the only home they’ve known.” Harriet laughed softly as she said, “My grandmother used to claim that Christmas is the season of miracles. Perhaps it is, because my family was more content than I’ve ever seen them.”

“Perhaps that’s because Ladreville has become their home.”

“Perhaps.” Harriet smiled at the thought. The events of the last month, even Thomas’s unwelcome visit, had made her realize that this was her home. She had no desire to leave, especially when she had friends like Isabelle and Lawrence. “I hope that’s true. It would be good if they were all happy, but right now that doesn’t matter. What matters is that today was a perfect day.”

Lawrence stopped and looked down at her, his eyes sparkling with an emotion she could not identify. Though the night was cool and the breeze off the river penetrated Harriet’s cloak, Lawrence’s expression was as warm as the summer sun. “Not perfect, but close. There is one thing that would make it better.”

The look on his face made Harriet’s heart skip a beat. “What is that?” Her words emerged as little more than a croak.

Lawrence smiled, and then, as slowly as if he had all the time in the world, he slid his arms around Harriet. Drawing her closer, he smiled again. “This,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers.

19

“I can’t believe it’s already 1858.” Isabelle shook her head as she poured a cup of coffee for Harriet. The two women were seated in Isabelle’s kitchen, where Harriet had come after school.

“The holiday passed quickly.” Though the memory of how Christmas Day had ended lingered, Harriet would not tell Isabelle about that. Lawrence’s kiss was something she hugged to herself, not wanting to spoil it by sharing it with anyone. Even now, when she knew no one could see her, she would press her fingers to her lips, recalling how firm his lips had been, how their touch had sent sensations flooding through her. Though the kiss had lasted only seconds, the memory was indelibly etched on her brain.

“I was surprised that the students were glad to come back to school after Christmas.” She needed to talk about ordinary things, not the extraordinary pleasure she had found in Lawrence’s arms.

Isabelle pushed a plate of cookies toward Harriet. “The novelty of new toys wears off quickly unless they can share them with others.”

Harriet nodded. With Christmas being on a Friday, the children had had three days without school. When they had returned, many had brought their favorite gift, wanting to show it to their friends. “The children didn’t even complain about nothing growing in the garden. I think they’ve forgotten it.” And Harriet wasn’t complaining about that. It was good that her pupils had other things to occupy them.

“Eva hasn’t forgotten. She’s simply more concerned about her baby brothers.”

Harriet couldn’t help smiling, for Eva had announced to the entire school that she was going to have two baby brothers. She had even declared that one would be named Harry in honor of Harriet. “I’m practicing so I can take care of a real baby,” she had confided when she showed Harriet the baby doll she had received for Christmas.

“What will Eva do if one of the babies is a girl?”

“The same thing we all will. Love her.” Her smile fading, Isabelle continued. “I only wish Gunther weren’t so worried.”

“He’s still concerned about your confinement?”

The lovely brunette nodded.

“You’re healthy, and Priscilla is an accomplished midwife.” Harriet had heard tales of how she’d delivered a breech baby without assistance. Surely twins would be easier than that. “Besides, there’s always Clay. The grapevine says he’s a first-rate doctor.”

Isabelle took another bite of cookie, chewing thoughtfully before she said, “It’s probably just my nerves. Maman said ladies in a family way have strange worries and cravings. Still, I can’t help wishing the bridge was already finished.”

“Why are you so worried?” This was the first time Harriet had heard Isabelle mention the bridge.

“Because both Priscilla and Clay are on the opposite side of the river. What if they can’t get to me in time to deliver the babies?”

Harriet reached across the table and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Stop worrying, Isabelle. That won’t happen.”

“Did you hear the news?” Zach asked without preamble as he strode into Lawrence’s office. “Rustlers struck Herr Plaut’s ranch. Took a dozen head of cattle.”

Lawrence rose from behind the desk. Zach’s announcement was of far more importance than reading the wanted posters that had arrived in today’s mail. Besides, it might help him stop thinking about Christmas night and the way Harriet’s lips had felt. Ever since that night, he’d been able to think of little else.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Herr Plaut lived near Golden, the closest town, making his ranch less than ten miles from Ladreville. “A dozen isn’t enough for most thieves. They could be coming this way.” Everyone in this part of Texas knew of Zach’s cattle.

Zach scratched his nose and frowned. “That’s what I thought. I sure would like to catch them this time.”

Lawrence’s pulse accelerated at the prospect of stopping the raids once and for all. This was why he’d been hired, to keep the people of Ladreville and their livelihoods safe.

“Looks like it’s time for another stakeout. If they want your cattle, my guess is the bandits will hit within the next three days. The new moon’s tonight, and that’ll give them the greatest cover of darkness.”

Zach nodded. “I’ll tell Priscilla I won’t be home for a few days.”

And I’ll tell Harriet.

When was that blasted woman going to leave? Thomas crouched behind one of the large oak trees and glared at the school. The pupils had been gone for half an hour now, all thirty or so of those screaming monsters. What was she waiting for? Was she counting the money? That was the only reason Thomas could imagine for her staying in that little building.

If she didn’t go home before the sun set, he’d be stuck here for another day, because there were some things that could not be done after dark, and searching the school was one of them. He couldn’t risk lighting a lantern and alerting others to his presence, especially since his legs were still wobbly. Though the old couple claimed it was the grippe, Thomas blamed the Christmas goose they served him for the fever and the ailment that had turned his insides out and left him writhing in pain for more than a week. Even when food no longer turned his stomach, he’d been too weak to walk, and so he’d remained another four days to regain his strength, and all the while, he’d fumed, thinking of the gold and silver waiting for him.

At last the door opened and Harriet descended the steps. Another minute and he could go inside. Another two minutes, and he would be a rich man. Thomas’s palms started to tingle at the thought of holding all that money, but as he kept his eyes fixed on Harriet, he frowned. What was she doing? Though she had seemed in a hurry when she’d exited the school, now she stood at the bottom of the steps, almost as if she was waiting for someone.

He looked around, his heart pounding when he saw a man striding briskly toward the school. Though he hadn’t met the man, he knew who he was. You didn’t have to spend more than five minutes in this miserable town to hear about its most famous resident: mayor, sheriff, former Ranger Lawrence Wood. Why was the sheriff coming here? He couldn’t—no, he couldn’t possibly—be looking for Thomas. The lump that settled in Thomas’s gut gave lie to his brave words, but it began to dissolve when he saw that the sheriff was smiling. Lawmen didn’t smile when they were on a man’s trail. So why was Sheriff Lawrence Wood looking so happy?

The answer wasn’t hard to find. Grouchy old Harriet, the woman who would hardly give Thomas the time of day, took a step toward the sheriff, linking her arm with his, smiling at him as if he were the most wonderful creature on earth. How could she? Thomas clenched his fists and pounded on the tree trunk. Harriet had never smiled at him that way. That lowdown, conniving, cheating woman. She would pay for this.

He waited until they were gone. No point in tempting fate. But once he could no longer see them, Thomas hurried up the steps and entered the school. The money had to be here. He’d find it, and then he’d find a way to punish Miss High and Mighty Harriet Kirk.

An hour later, Thomas could no longer deny the facts. There was no money. There was nothing but books and papers and ink. Nothing. Nothing at all.

He kicked one of the desks, wincing when his toe hurt. She hadn’t been lying. The nasty-mouthed woman who had refused to marry him didn’t have any money. Thomas kicked the desk again, wishing it was Harriet’s face. The last two times he’d seen her she had said she never wanted to see him again. That was fine with him. He didn’t want to see her, either, but one thing was certain: he would see to it that Harriet never forgot him. It was time to get even.

He looked around, searching for some way to hurt her. He could destroy those books she thought were so precious. That would rile her. She might even shed a tear for them. But that wasn’t enough. Not when he was facing Mr. Allen’s demands. Thomas would shed more than tears if Herb Allen’s men caught up with him. He’d be shedding blood, and it was all Harriet’s fault. She should have married him. She should have given him money. But she hadn’t, and now she would pay.

Thomas’s eye lit on the stove. The thing Harriet feared most was fire. He grinned. Perfect. He would give that miserable woman the biggest fire of her life.

“Did you hear that?” Lawrence whispered the question.

In the darkness he saw Zach nod. “Sounds like horses to me.” The two men were camped in the same cave they’d used before, with branches concealing the entrance, their horses hobbled inside with them. Though it was only the first night of their stakeout, it appeared the wait was over. Zach’s cattle had proven irresistible.

Lawrence tamped down the rush of energy that always accompanied a fight, reminding himself that patience often paid excellent dividends. Unhobbling Snip, he said, “Let’s let ’em all get into the valley. I want to catch them red-handed.” If he and Zach did it properly, when these rustlers were brought to justice, there would be no question of their guilt. The culprits might not hang, but they wouldn’t see the light of day for a good number of years.

Lawrence positioned himself at the mouth of the cave, watching as the rustlers snuck into the defile. Though he’d expected more, it appeared there were only two of them. Either they were mighty good at rounding up cattle or these two were working alone. That could explain why they’d taken a mere dozen steers from Herr Plaut. A real roundup required more hands.

As the men circled the herd, Lawrence nodded at Zach. “Now!”

Within seconds, they were on horseback, their rifles ready. The rustlers had no chance, for Lawrence and Zach blocked the narrow defile, leaving their quarry no easy escape. “Hold it right there. Drop your guns.” Lawrence almost laughed at the intruders’ surprised expressions when they saw themselves facing the wrong end of two rifles. Though both of them sported six-shooters on their hips, they had no time to draw. As the six-shooters hit the ground, Lawrence moved Snip between the rustlers and their weapons. “All right, now. Get off.” They’d lost their right to ride fine horseflesh.

While Zach kept his rifle pointed at the bandits, Lawrence dismounted and tied their hands behind their backs. “Recognize these varmints?” he asked Zach as he wrapped a rope around each man’s waist and tied them to Snip. The would-be rustlers were going to have a mighty long walk tonight.

Zach nodded. “They own the ranch next to Herr Plaut. I heard they’d fallen on hard times.”

“Was that it, boys?” Lawrence asked. “Did you figure this would be an easy way to increase your herd?” Though neither one struck Lawrence as being overly bright, they had enough sense to keep their mouths shut. Lawrence looked over at Zach. “I’ve got a mind to string them from one of these trees, but I reckon the judge should have his say.”

The way Zach’s mouth twitched told Lawrence he recognized the bluff and was enjoying the rustlers’ reaction. Suddenly the prospect of walking ten miles didn’t seem so bad, when the alternative was a swift hanging.

By midafternoon, the rustlers were in jail, Herr Plaut was happy to have his cattle recovered, and Golden’s sheriff had agreed with Lawrence’s suggestion that they and two other neighboring towns band together against future rustlers.

“I guess it’s true,” Zach said as he and Lawrence headed back to Ladreville. “The Rangers always get their men.”