Weathered Too Young (41 page)

“
William
S.
Evans?
”
Lark whispered
,
tears springing to her eyes.
The name echoed
through
her brain, growing louder and louder until her head began to ache with the pounding.

“What’s the matter, Miss Lark?” Charlie asked then.
“You feelin’ okay?
Is yer cactus stings hurtin’?”

“No…no
,
I’m fine, Charlie,” Lark managed.
Closing the pistol box
,
she returned it to the drawer, laying the telegram and badge inside as well.
“Put the key back where you found it, Charlie…please,” she whispered.
“I…I don’t think your Uncle Slater wants anyone to know about this…at least
,
not right now.
S-so let’s keep this our secret, all right.
Do you understand?”

Charlie’s brow puckered.
He seemed thoughtful for a moment.
Then, shrugging his shoulders, he said, “All right,” and hopped down off the chair.

As Charlie returned to his corner—as he began
to mumble under his breath in speaking
for his wooden soldiers—Lark’s hand clutched her throat.

“William Slater Evans,” she breathed.
“United States Marshal,” she gasped
,
finding an easy breath elusive.
“
No
!
No…it can’t be!”
she whispered.

In a wave of despair, shame
,
and horror, memories of her past—the truth of who she truly was—flooded her consciousness like a
nauseating
poison.
She heaved once
,
nearly loosing the contents of her stomach.

“No!
Please
,
no!” she cried as tears poured over her cheeks.
The pain—the fear she’d known the night before when she’d thought for a time that perhaps Slater Evans was an outlaw—paled in association with the truth she’d only just discovered.
William S. Evans—William Slater Evans—United States Marshal—revered and respected lawman.
Lark was miserably well
acquainted with the legend of US Marshal William S. Evans.

“Are you behavin’ for Miss Lark, Charlie?” Katherine asked.

Lark’s hand flew to cover her mouth as another wave of anxiety-driven nausea washed over her.

“Yes, Mama,” Charlie whined with aggravation.

“I’ve got the bread in the oven, Lark,” Katherine said.
“Would you and Charlie like
to
work a puzzle with Lizzy and I?”

Struggling to speak—to keep from collapsing in a heap of emotional despair—Lark shook her head.

“Y-you go ahead and start without me,” she managed.
“I’ll be along shortly.”

“All right,” Katherine said.
“Come on, Charlie.”

“Miss Lark needs some time, Mama,” Lark heard Charlie say.
“We found a box in that desk with a couple of pearl
-
handled pistols in it…a
nd a
badge too.
Did you know Uncle Slater was a lawman, Mama?”

Lark winced—nearly broke into hysterics—for if one thing was certain in life
,
it w
as that the innocence of a chil
d prevented him from keeping a secret.

“Run on in the kitchen and wait for me, Charlie,” Lark heard Katherine tell the boy.
“I’ll be right there.”

Lark stiffened as she felt Katherine take her shoulders.
She bit her lip, withholding the sobs begging to escape her.

“So now you know,” Katherine said softly.
“I swear I don’t know why he’s kept it from you.
It’s so obvious the two of you are
—”

“He is William S. Evans…isn’t he
,
Katie?” Lark asked
,
though the evidence had already proven the truth.
Yet
somehow—somehow she still hoped she would wake up and discover it had all been a dream—that there was not
a badge in the desk drawer—no
guns—no telegram.

“William Slater Evans,” Katherine said.
“One of the greatest lawmen there ever was.
Slater’s the one who took Samson Kane in, you see.
That’s why Samson Kane came here when he escape
d…why he’s come for Slater.
No
body could touch Samson Kane…not until Marshal Slater Evans went out after him.”
Katherine paused—squeezed Lark’s shoulders with affectionate reassurance.
“I don’t know why he keeps the truth so quiet,” she said.
“I suppose…I suppose he doesn’t want anyone gushin’ praise all over him and such things.
Or maybe
,
maybe the things he saw…the men he brought in…maybe all of it was just too terrible
. M
aybe he just doesn’t want to think about it anymore.”

Lark buried her face in her hands—bitterly wept.

“Why, hone
y!” Katherine exclaimed.
“What
ever is the matter?
If you’re worried about Samson Kane gettin’ to Slater…don’t!
There’s not an outlaw ever born that could get the best of Slater!”

Lark was weak—frightened.
Everything she loved was about to be stripped from her, but not by Samson Kane
—
no!
Everything she cared for—Katherine and the children, Tom, her life at the ranch—all of it would be taken from her.
All this
still
didn’t break her heart the way thoughts of losing Slater did
. A
nd she would lose him—if she’d ever even truly had him at all.
She couldn’t think of what the expression on his face would be when he found out—wouldn’t think of the utter disgust and hatred he would own for
her
when he did—if he did.

Instantly, she thought of escape.
Slater need never know!
She could run—run as she’d been doing for years!
Spring had come.
The warmer weather would enable
her
to run
,
and she would!
She would rather run from Slater—let her heart take to bleeding
,
bleed out on the new spring grass
. S
he would rather die a slow, miserable death than to have Slater Evans discover the truth and loathe her for it.

“Samson Kane will not harm Slater, Lark,” Katherine said, turning Lark to face her.
“I promise you he won’t.”
Katherine wiped the tears from Lark’s face, smiled
,
and said, “Slater will send Samson Kane back to prison
or kill him…and then
the two of you can
finally settle into one another.”

Lark shook her head, continuing to weep.

“No,” she cried in a whisper.
“You don’t understand.”

“I understand he’s in love with you,” Katherine whispered.
“That he’s havin’ a mighty hard time keepin’ himself from just takin’ you in his arms and
—”

“No!” Lark interrupted.
“You don’t understand!
If I stay
,
he’ll find out
. H
e’ll discover the truth if I stay
. A
nd if he knows the truth…oh, Katherine!
I couldn’t face him if he knew the truth!”

“If you stay?
If he finds out what truth?” Katherine asked.

Lark shook her head.
“I-I can’t tell you, Katie,” she cried.
“You’ll hate me too!”

“What’s the matter?” Tom asked, unexpectedly entering the room.

Lark gasped, “Oh no!”
Tom would hate her too—despise her!
Yet in that moment, Lark knew no one would despise her for the truth as thoroughly as Slater would.

“She’s upset, Tom,” Katherine said.

“Well, I can see that, Kate,” Tom grumbled.
“What’s the matter
,
Lark?
Aren’t you feelin’ all right?”

“No…no!” Lark cried.
“I have to leave
.
I have to leave before you all
—”

“Leave?” Tom exclaimed.

“She found Slater’s badge,” Katherine explained. “Rather
,
I think Charlie found Slater’s badge
…
in the desk
,
he said.”

Tom sighed.
“Darlin’,” he began, “is it really so terrible as all this?
Bein’ in
love with a lawman?”
He smiled
and gathered her into his arms.
Lark clung to him for a moment—prayed for the strength to believe Slater would still want
her
after he discovered the truth.
“They ain’t such bad fellers…a little pouty sometimes maybe
. B
ut you know Slater loves you
,
and just because he’s the law
—”

“You don’t understand!” Lark cried. “You don’t understand!”

Tearing herself from his arms, she fled to her bedroom
,
closed the door
,
and drew the small bolt.

“Lark!
Honey!” Katherine called from the other side.

“Give her a minute here, Katie,” Tom said.
“We’ll give you a minute, darlin’,” Tom said.
“Then you come out and let us
help with whatever is eatin’ at ya.
All right?”

“Yes,” Lark sniffled.
“Just give me a moment to collect myself.
Just a moment.”

“All right then, honey.
Take yer time
. Y
ou just take yer time.”

But Lark knew Tom too well.
Tom Evans didn’t take to waiting.
No doubt he was already heading for the front door, intent on summoning Slater.

Quickly, Lark went to the wardrobe, withdrew her old carpetba
g
,
and began stuffing her clothes into it.
She opened the trunk at the foot of her bed and removed her mother’s photograph.
The old clothes in the trunk could stay
. T
he new ones she’d sewn over the past few months and the dress Tom had given her for Christmas were much nicer.
Hurriedly she opened the bottom drawer of the small washbasin and pitcher stand.
Long ago she’d found some of Mrs. Simpson’s things in it—including a small photograph of Slater and Tom inscribed by both men to
say
,
Our Dear Matilda.
Merry Christmas from your boys.
Taking the photograph was stealing
;
Lark knew it was.
Still, Mrs. Simpson could no longer treasure it—and Lark would.

Lark paused to glance around the room.
Renewed tears streamed down her face as she thought of the joy she’d known in living there—in sleeping each night knowing Slater was sleeping
just above her.

Carefully, she drew the small bolt at the door
,
opened the door a crack
,
and peered out.
It was as she thought.
Tom was nowhere to be seen.
Katherine wasn’t at the door either.
Lark assumed she’d gone to check on Charlie and Lizzy.

Quietly she crept from the room
,
closing the door behind her so that they would not know she’d left.
Making her way to the back of the house, Lark managed to slip past Johnny’s room unnoticed.
Johnny was sitting on the floor with his back to the door, intent on a book he was holding in his lap.
Therefore, he didn’t hear Lark open the door and slip through it.

Instantly, she realized that without her slicker or even her lavender wool coat, she would have to find shelter before dark.
The sun warmed the spring days, it was true
,
but the nights were still far too cool to endure comfortably.
As she stood on the back porch, trying to find the courage to run, Lark thought of Samson Kane.
She knew that if she happened upon him while trying to flee, he would surely kill her—for it was certain he knew
that
she had lied to him.
Still, she wouldn’t think of being killed by Samson Kane—or
,
worse
,
gutted like a fish by the outlaw.
She
simply
w
ould not cross his path
.