Authors: Lori Copeland
Tags: #Romance, #Christian, #Fiction, #Christian Fiction, #Foster Parents, #General, #Love Stories
W
hen Cade opened the jail door the next morning, Zoe was bent over Bonnie, adjusting her pillow. The purpose of his visit deserted him as his gaze focused on her.
An unexplained desire to take her into his arms was so powerful he could taste it. Holding her last night had awakened feelings he didn’t need. He’d known from the moment he’d arrived that she wouldn’t be easy to walk away from this time. Fifteen years ago he’d been a kid with a head full of fantasy. He was a man now. And his love for her had never dimmed. Had never grown cold, though he’d told himself life was different now.
He and Red were adults now, with a solid chunk of life they no longer shared.
Cade cleared his throat, hoping to clear his mind as well. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
He glanced toward the patients. “Any change?”
“They all ate a good breakfast.”
“What about you?’
“I’m fine. Got a good night’s sleep.” She sighed. “I hope Gracie keeps Laticia occupied for a few hours.”
“Laticia’s bluffing. She’s not going to take those children.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“She won’t. She may be a blood relative, but no one in his right mind would give her custody of four small children, and she knows it.”
“Then what does she hope to gain?”
“The thrill of running her bluff on me.”
Zoe looked away, grousing under her breath. “This could all be taken care of by nightfall. If you’d agree to let me have them, Richard Moyer could have adoption papers drawn up in a matter of hours.”
“Who’s Richard Moyer?”
“Town attorney. He could settle this matter if you’d only be reasonable.”
“You forget, Mrs. Bradshaw—‘reasonable’ isn’t my strong suit.”
“The longer Laticia stays, the more upset the children will be.”
“They’re bright kids. They know I’m not going to leave them where they won’t be happy.”
She straightened to face him. “How could they possibly know that?”
“Because I told them.” He softened his tone. “I haven’t broken a promise yet, have I? To them,” he amended.
Sawyer stopped Cade as he started across the street.
“Hey, hold up there, Kolby!”
Cade turned, wondering if the watchdog ever slept. “Need something?”
The self-appointed town guardian approached, his jaw bulging with his chew. He took off his hat and squared his shoulders. Thin strands of grayish hair poked out around his head in various directions.
“I want a badge.” He twisted his hat in his blue-veined hands. Age spots dotted his weathered skin.
“What kind of a badge?”
“One that’ll give me some authority. If I’m supposed to keep people outta the jail, I got to have some respect. Laticia don’t respect my authority.”
“Laticia Wiseman isn’t known for her manners.”
“It don’t matter! She cain’t do what she wants and not pay the piper!”
“And you think a badge would lend you credibility?”
Sawyer nodded. “Yes. That’s what I want. Some of that credible stuff. Somebody’s got to keep the law! The law’s the law! No doggone female is above it!”
“All right. Stop by the jail later and I’ll make you a badge.”
The old man’s face beamed in a tobacco-stained grin. He nodded, his hair waving. “Thank ya.”
A
gnat flitted overhead. Cade tipped his chair back, propped his boots on the kitchen table, and rested the stack of wanted posters on his chest. A thick ham sandwich and Zoe’s bread-and-butter pickles rested nicely in his stomach.
Clasping his hands behind his neck, he listened to Missy playing with her dolls at the front of the store. A smile touched the corners of his mouth when he heard her say, “Dolly, you sit here, and Bud, you sit there.”
As long as she kept the tarantula in its jar, he had no complaints.
Stretching, he yawned, flexing his fingers above his head. The other kids were at the livery with Abraham, and Zoe was at the jail, so the house was unusually quiet. It gave him time to think.
McGill would soon tire of his idle time and come looking for him. And if he came looking, he would discover the kids. Cade was a loner with no family. That’s what his enemies thought, so they had nothing to take from him for retribution. If McGill knew he had the kids, the outlaw would go for them. The longer he pushed his luck, the more he was putting the kids in danger. Now this Laticia business, what was he going to do about her? Should he forget the Brightons and talk to that Amish couple near Salina, the ones Pop had heard about? McGill would never find them there. Someday someone would learn about his personal life and they would trace him back to Winterborn. And to Zoe.
Was that the bell over the door? He sat up, listening as the tinkling drifted to him. No, Missy was playing with some sort of toy.
Since the fever outbreak, Zoe’s business was down to nothing. Lilith had stopped by earlier for ten cents worth of brown sugar. It took him thirty minutes to get loose from her. Then Pop dropped by to announce that, due to the illness, he was canceling Saturday night’s dance until further notice. Cade smiled.
Too bad, Banker Drake. Guess you won’t get to dance with Zoe after all.
Patting his stomach, he dozed. Seconds later, soft snores filled the small kitchen.
“You’we going to weally like Uncle Cade, Bud. He didn’t mean to scawe you the othew mowning,” Missy whispered through the holes in the jar lid as she crept into the kitchen. “He said he would play with me anytime I want.”
She gave the jar a shake. “Awe you awake? Bud?” Peering through the glass, she sighed. “Hope you’we not getting that fevew. Zoe will hate to stick that stuff down youw fwoat.” She adjusted the basket of doll dishes and cookies over her arm. “You got a fwoat, Bud?”
As she passed Cade’s chair, she paused. “Ooooh, Uncle Cade is sweeping.” She quietly set her basket on the table. Stepping closer, she stared at her uncle, leaning real close. He was asweep.
Shrugging her shoulders, she unscrewed the lid, carefully lifted Bud from his bed, and placed him on Cade’s chest. “You stay thewe, Bud, while I get things weady fow ouw tea pawty.”
She busied herself preparing the table. She spread a napkin to serve as a tablecloth, and then arranged three tiny cups and saucers around the edge. A stack of ginger cookies complemented the tea service. She stepped back to admire her work. Nudging Cade’s knee, she whispered, “Uncle Cade?”
Cade stirred. “Hmm?”
Missy tiptoed closer and patted his cheek. “Wake up, Uncle Cade. It’s time fow ouw tea pawty.”
“Mumphm.” Cade brushed the air, smacking his lips.
“Uncle Caaade. Wake uuuup.”
Opening an eye, Cade smiled when he saw the intruder. Missy smiled, waving.
Cade’s gaze slid down, and his eyes widened. A tarantula sat in the middle of his chest. The spider’s hairy front legs flexed.
How come every time he woke up, that spider was on his chest!
Bud started creeping toward his face. Cade jerked his feet off the table, the sudden movement causing the chair legs to fly out from under him. He hit the floor with a jarring crash, certain his back was broken.
Bud scurried across the floor and disappeared around the corner.
Missy stomped her foot. “Uncle Cade! You scawed Bud again.”
“Missy, you’re going to have to keep that thing in its jar!” Cade swiped the front of his shirt, shuddering. All those years on the trail, and he’d never once woken with a spider on his chest.
Bud rounded the corner, skittering across the plank floor.
Missy ran and scooped him back into his jar. “It’s all wight, Bud. Uncle Cade likes you. He’s not mean. He won’t scawe you again.”
“I scared him? Missy, that’s a tarantula!”
“Uh-uh.” She puffed. “He’s my bug.”
Cade righted his chair and sank down in it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just that Bud is—”
“Fuzzy?”
“Yes. Heck yes. That too.” He raked his fingers through his hair and leaned back to catch his breath. Missy screwed the lid on Bud’s jar.
“He pwobably needs to west a while,” she said. “He’s tuckewed.” She pushed the jar under Cade’s nose. “Say you’we sowwy, Uncle Cade.”
“Come on, Missy. It’s a bug.”
Her blue eyes pleaded with him.
“Sorry…Bud.” Cade couldn’t believe he was apologizing to a tarantula.
Missy climbed up on his lap and put her arms around his neck. “It’s all wight, Uncle Cade.” She planted a big, noisy kiss on his cheek. “Bud’s not mad at you.”
Good. He wouldn’t lose sleep tonight.
Missy brushed her hand across his cheek. “Awe you weddy for ouw tea pawty?”
He grinned, playing along with her. “A cup of tea would be refreshing, my dear.”
“Okay, and aftew we eat, I’ll fix youw haiw weal pwetty.” Missy scrambled from his lap to perform her hostess’s duties. She poured pretend tea into their cups.
He raised his brows. “My hair, dearest? Is there something wrong with my curly locks?”