Another Dawn (25 page)

      
"Wha...what two things?" Jenny sniffled and met the marshal's gaze.

      
"First, the circuit judge has gotta come set him free."

      
"Praise God," Mrs. Fleming said, and a bright smile lit Jenny's face.

      
"But there's another thing."

      
Sly dog. Luke knew Sam Weathers had left that statement incomplete for impact. Luke's grandfather had loved Westerns, so they'd watched them on television every weekend throughout Luke's childhood. Marshal Weathers was the epitome of the tallest, leanest, meanest, and most honorable cowboy who'd ever graced the silver screen.

      
No wonder Sofie was still staring.

      
Damn
. Luke had to get his jealousy under control. He'd come here to talk to Sofie, but this situation had cut that short. Maybe for the best. Being alone with her probably wasn't a very good idea at this point.

      
"What other thing?" Jenny finally asked.

      
"The man who killed your pa is still in town," the marshal said slowly, "so you and Shane both might be in danger."

      
Jenny's eyes widened.

      
"We can protect Shane in jail easy enough...."

      
"Will you put me in jail, too?" The child's pupils dilated and Luke thought she might faint.

      
Marshal Weathers shook his head. "Nope, I got another idea."

      
He looked right at Luke. After a moment, his gaze drifted to Sofie. "I don't reckon that killer would look for you at the parsonage."

      
"No, of course he wouldn't."
 
Dora stood and went to her mother, squeezing the older woman's hand. "Jenny will be safer there than anywhere for now."

      
Mrs. Fleming nodded, but Luke just stared at the marshal. He shot Sofie a "save me" look, but she seemed in complete agreement with the plan.

      
"Someone will have to go with the child to help take care of her, of course," Mrs. Fleming said. "I can–"

      
"No, you cain't."
 
Zeke stood and folded his arms. "Everybody in town'd notice you bein' gone."

      
"True."
 
Mrs. Fleming sighed. "Dora, then?"

      
"Beg pardon, since I don't really know you folks," the marshal said quietly, "but seems to me, because of the epidemic, that lots of folks don't know about Miss Sofie."
 
The lawman looked around the room, his expression solemn. "And it's clear Miss Jenny trusts her. She's the logical choice to go with the girl."

      
A dull roar began in Luke's head and the skin around his mouth tingled. Slowly, he turned his head until he met Sofie's gaze. The marshal wanted him to hide Sofie and Jenny in the parsonage. All day. Every day.

      
And night.

      
"But that would be unseemly," Mrs. Fleming said, looking at the marshal as if she thought him insane.

      
You tell them, Mrs. Fleming
. Luke held his breath.

      
Zeke slapped the table's surface and snorted. "Beg pardon again, ma'am, but the man's a priest."
 

      
Oh, God.

      
Mrs. Fleming's face reddened and she opened her mouth several times. Finally, she drew a deep breath and looked right at Luke. "Father, forgive me, but..."
 
She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, then leveled her gaze on him. "I saw you coming out of Sofie's room the other night. Late."

      
Sofie gasped, then a powerful silence filled the room; the temperature of Luke's face hit the flash point. He looked around the room. They were all staring at Mrs. Fleming as if she'd lost her mind. Relief struck in waves, though he didn't dare look at Sofie yet.

      
So he'd been seen leaving her room that night. Did Sofie remember what happened? The fire from his face redirected itself along with his blood flow. He'd never forget her lips, her softness, her–

      
"Well,
Padre
?" Zeke winked as Luke met his gaze.

      
Drawing a deep breath, Luke faced his accuser. He knew Mrs. Fleming didn't mean to cast blame. In fact, she was closer to the truth than anyone.

      
"I was checking on her after that fainting spell."
 
He gave a nervous laugh and shrugged. "I guess I've felt sort of responsible for Sofie since that explosion."
 
That's no lie.

      
Mrs. Fleming's expression waffled from suspicion to self-condemnation. Good old guilt–Luke knew it well. As a matter of fact, watching Mrs. Fleming struggle with her own intensified his. She had no reason to feel guilty, but he couldn't help her without destroying everything. "But if Mrs. Fleming feels it isn't, uh, proper for–"

      
"Tarnation,
Padre,"
Zeke interrupted. "I reckon God's the only chaperon you and Miss Dr. Sofie needs."
 

      
Luke looked at Mrs. Fleming again. She looked absolutely miserable and it was all his fault. Grandma would've put him in the corner for a week for this.

      
The woman's eyes glittered with tears, then she threw her hands up in surrender. "You're right, of course. Forgive me, Father, Sofie."

      
Oh, God.

      
"Good, now we got that settled," the marshal continued, "I'll snoop around and drop a few hints that we got us a witness to the killin', and that young Latimer ain't gonna hang after all."

      
"A trap?" Ab asked.

      
"Somethin' like that."
 
Marshal Weathers looked around the room. "I'll sleep in the jail 'til the judge comes 'round."

      
"You reckon the killer'll make a move," Zeke said, rather than asked.

      
"Yep."
 
The marshal aimed his piercing gaze at Luke. "This all settin' right with you, Father?"

      
Luke tried to ignore the conflicting voices in the back of his mind. He wanted Sofie. And now he was being asked to sleep under the same roof with her, albeit, for a good cause.

      
Still, the thought of Sofie sleeping in another room of the same house, without Mrs. Fleming to play watchdog...

      
"Yeah," Luke said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and felt someone's gaze on him. Instinctively, he met Mrs. Fleming's accusing glare. She still didn't completely buy his story.
Smart woman.

      
Perspiration trickled down the sides of his neck and into the open collar of his shirt. Did the woman know his secret? Did she know that he wanted Sofie with a fierceness that made him awaken every night, shaking and drenched with sweat?

      
Did she know who he was?

      
And wasn't?

      
Sofie was going to shack up with the same man who'd haunted her dreams for weeks.

      
A man of God.

      
She gathered the few articles of clothing Dora had reluctantly given her, trying to control her breathing and her thoughts with every passing moment. Why couldn't she shake her foolish desire for Father Salazar?
 

      
Sure, at first she'd blamed the fact that he'd saved her life.
My weird hero
. But that excuse didn't wash after all these weeks. If only he'd remained sunburned and bald, and, most importantly, garbed in attire befitting a priest.
 

      
In jeans and an open-collared shirt, Redemption's only priest was a drop-dead gorgeous hunk of man who would turn any woman's head. More than her head, Sofie decided. Father Salazar was turning her hormones inside out and bass ackwards. In fact, mutation was an increasingly plausible possibility.

      
"Mutation?" Her vocabulary amazed even her. If only her memory would follow.

      
She finished packing and opened the door. Sadly, this room was the only home she could remember. How strange. With a sigh, she lifted the borrowed carpetbag and walked into the kitchen.
 

      
Only Marshal Weathers and Dr. Wilson sat at the table now. She glanced toward the window. Within the hour, it would be totally dark.

      
"Miss Sofie, there you are."
 
Dr. Wilson stood along with Marshal Weathers.

      
"Good evening."
 
Sofie allowed Marshal Weathers to take her bag and place it near the back door. She murmured her gratitude, still surprised by the way men in Redemption treated women. Of course, the marshal wasn't from here, yet the same chivalry was part of his make-up as well. Somehow, she doubted such behavior had been a typical part of her life before now. It seemed...

      
Old-fashioned. Yes, that was it. She paused to ponder that as Dr. Wilson pulled out a chair for her at the table. Was she regaining her memory at last? John Wayne this afternoon, and now realizing that these people were old-fashioned?
 

      
"Miss Dora does know her way around the kitchen," Marshal Weathers said, returning to his chair. "That's the finest meal I've had since Ft. Smith."

      
"Mrs. Fleming and her daughter are both fine cooks," Dr. Wilson agreed. "Best watch yourself though, Marshal. Dora can
 
smell an eligible bachelor a mile away."

      
Sofie remained silent while the men chuckled. Poor Dora. Though the young woman had pissed her off more than once, Sofie couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Not even twenty, and Dora considered herself a spinster. And a good cook? Well, yes, but only a man could truly appreciate several courses of fried everything.

      
"Well, I'm flattered, but I'm afraid she'll have to keep sniffin'," Marshal Weathers said, smiling. "I got me a brand new bride at home in a family way."

      
In a family way
? Sofie cleared her throat daintily to avoid laughing out loud.
 

      
"Congratulations."
 
Dr. Wilson patted the marshal on the back. "I hope you make it home before the birth."

      
"Without Zeke," Sofie added and smiled prettily, trying to play the role these men seemed to think she should.

      
"Amen."
 
Dr. Wilson lifted his coffee cup to his lips.

      
"Trust me, Miss Sofie, I'd like nothin' better."
 
The marshal took a sip of coffee, then met her gaze, his expression solemn. "Takin' Zeke Judson back to hang leaves a bad taste in my mouth that'll follow me to my grave."

      
"Good."
 
Sofie shifted her attention to Dr. Wilson. "Where is everyone?"

      
"Gone to get the parsonage ready, and Jenny's reading to Mr. Smith again."
 
The doctor covered Sofie's hand with his. "You're a good woman, Miss Sofie. Thank you for doing this."

      
"I want Jenny to be safe and happy."

      
"We all do."
 
The doctor faced Marshal Weathers again. "I sure hope your plan works."

      
"Yep, so do I."
 

      
"I'm still not real clear on this plan of yours," Sofie said, choosing her words carefully. "Just exactly what is it you hope to achieve by hiding Jenny?"
Besides putting me into dangerous proximity with a man I have the hots for?

      
Marshal Weathers took another sip of coffee, prolonging his answer. The guy was definitely prone to dramatics.