Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (78 page)

Because of God.

Deep down, in a place he didn't care to explore, he felt the truth of it. That he'd turned his back on Jesus and everything he'd been raised with and now he felt pain and bitterness. But Mary had embraced what he'd spurned and it had changed her.

He blinked as Josie slid her hand into his. He looked down at her broad smile and vowed to protect this little girl. Whatever it took. He returned Josie's squeeze and sang with the group.

It had been a long time. His throat worked each consonant and spit them out rusty, but Josie didn't seem to care. When the song ended and they'd all spread out on blankets, he found himself plopping down next to Mary.

“Mmm, you smell good. Like cinnamon and roses. Like snickerdoodles.”

She blushed beside him. The grin that had taken hold during the song widened. He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles. “What's on the menu?”

“Fried chicken, apple dumplings—”

“Snickerdoodles?”

“You know so.” She sent him an exasperated look, but he saw laughter in her eyes.

“Where's Josie?”

“I'm right here!” She hopped onto the blanket, spinning, and then dropping down.

“Your dress, Josie.”

But the girl didn't hear Mary. She was staring at a group of kids in the distance. Someone's father, or maybe an older brother, was giving each a turn at being swung in a circle.

“Go over there,” he told her.

“She's wearing a dress,” said Mary.

Josie sighed heavily, a bit on the melodramatic side. He shook as unexpected laughter bubbled through him. Mary was hiding her own smirk behind tightly pressed lips. He met her eyes and suddenly the laughter dried up.

The chirping of the birds, the sounds of chatter and laughter faded, and all he could see was Mary. Kind, beautiful Mary. Her hair shimmering, her eyes pinned on him, widening when he didn't look away. A strange and almost foreign feeling swept through him. He leaned forward.

“Mister Lou!” Josie tugged on his sleeve. “Will you swing me around like those kids?” She slid between him and Mary, ending what had been an intriguing moment. He shook his head to clear it and then gave Josie a wink.

“I'll swing until you can't stand anymore. Let's go.” He followed her to the elm, letting her grip his palm as she skipped beside him. A different feeling filled him, something close to contentment.

When he was gone to Asia, he'd look back and hold these memories dear.

Chapter Eleven

M
ary didn't want Lou to sell the ranch.

There. She could admit it to herself. After watching him with Josie yesterday, laughing and relaxed, she realized the life she'd built here wasn't enough. Lou had been right. She needed more than what she had. She was ready for more.

Thoughtful, she pinned a towel on the line, thankful for the sun that dried each piece of laundry. Her mother was in the house with Josie, teaching her to weave baskets. The delicate scents of desert drifted around her and for a moment she closed her eyes as the refrains of yesterday's hymn swept through her heart.

Then sings my soul, my savior God to thee.

How great Thou art, how great Thou art.

Humming, she reached for a shirt and clipped it to the line.

“Mary.” Lou's voice rose above her humming.

She turned, shading her eyes from the glare of sunlight, trying to pinpoint his location. She heard him behind her. She whirled, hand to her chest.

“Are you sneaking up on me?”

“Do you have a moment to talk?” He squinted at her.

“I'm almost done. What do you wish to speak of?”

“Plans need to be made,” he said gently.

Her spine stiffened. She pinned a bread cloth to the line, avoiding his gaze. “Have you told Gracie and Trevor you're selling the ranch? Don't you need their permission?”

“I have it.” He gestured toward the house. “Why don't we go up for lunch and talk a spell.”

“Lunch isn't quite ready.”

“We'll speak here, then.”

She felt his perusal to the marrow of her bones and suppressed a shiver. Lately it seemed as if he'd been looking at her differently, more deeply, as though he truly saw her. She found the interest both intoxicating and terrifying.

Refusing to meet his eyes, she plucked a towel from her basket and stretched it evenly on the line. Lou took a clip from her waist and pinned the cloth.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “If you'd rather do this, I can go prepare lunch. Since you're apparently not busy.”

“I'm busy.” He shifted closer, and suddenly she became aware of how much larger he was than her, and yet she felt no fear, only an odd fluttering below her ribs that prompted her to step back. She reached for the remaining sock in the basket.

“I can meet you up there.” She wanted her voice to remain steady, but it came out wrong, breathy and not at all like her.

Thankfully, Lou turned and paced away, toward the small porch of Trevor's—her—house. Stifling a sigh, she hung the sock and then trudged after him.

Perhaps he wished to speak of the ranch sale or of her mother's presence on this property. Resolve hardened within her and gave life to her steps.

Heart thumping and breath a tad thin, she followed Lou onto the porch. She settled in the chair next to his. Close enough to smell the Wrigley's in his pocket and see the stubble on his chin. “You're in need of a shave.”

He cocked his head, catching her gaze with his. “I was going to ask you to do that for me this afternoon.”

“Me?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, we're heading out tomorrow morning, early, and I don't have time to get to a barber.”

She swallowed her denial. The man needed a shave and a trim, but she'd only given them to James. Rarely had she touched Lou, and now it seemed they were thrown together all the time. It did not bode well for her nerves.

“Josie does not wish to go.” She heard the stubborn note in her voice and didn't care.

“I'm gonna be honest with you.” Lou peered at her, forehead furrowed. “If we don't take her home, my bosses will be sending someone to do it for us. I've bought as much time as I can but any longer and we're liable to be charged with some kind of wrongdoing.”

“That's not right.”

“Life isn't about what we feel. You're saying it's not right, but what about Josie's mother? How's she feeling, knowing her daughter never made it safely to relatives?” Lou frowned. “What's gotten into you? I've never known you to be so unreasonable.”

Mary recoiled. “It is not I who is unreasonable here. You've wanted to get rid of her since the very beginning.”

“I just wanted her to be cared for, out of danger.” His eyes were inscrutable.

She stood and paced near the steps, pushing her skirt in front of her knees as she moved back and forth.

Lou stepped in front of her, placing his palms against her shoulders. She stopped, unable to move forward because he'd effectively ended her momentum. Annoyed, she glared at him.

“Remove your hands.”

His eyes narrowed. “She's not ours, Mary. You've got to let her go.”

No
. The word echoed in her heart, a lonely, distant wail that couldn't seem to make it to her lips. She didn't want to let Josie go. She wanted to hold her and love her and raise her. Spin in the sunlight with her a million times more.

His grip loosened, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “This afternoon I need a shave and a trim. Can you do that?”

Numbly, she nodded past the ache that was already spreading through her.

“Good.” He paused as though he'd say something more, and his gaze lingered on her face, but she couldn't bear to feel his pity for her.

The alone woman, as he'd said.

She watched as he walked away, his body casting a long, confident shadow against her beloved lands. How many times had she watched him leave? Drive off to fight battles unknown. To rescue those in distress. And never once had she asked him to stay so she wouldn't be alone. It hadn't been her place either, and yet...

This time she was determined to walk first.

* * *

Mary rode hard into Burns shortly after hanging the wash. Josie remained with Rose. As for Lou, she planned to cut his hair this evening, but for now she wanted to see about renting rooms somewhere. An idea had blossomed after he left, but she wasn't sure how financially practical opening a bakery might be.

Many are the plans in a man's heart, but the Lord's plan prevails.

The verse resonated within as she hitched up her horse and hurried into the general store.

She found the owner bent beside an old shelf, dusting it.

“Joseph.”

“Miss Mary.” He stood and shared his ready smile. “Did you bring any winterfat? The ladies wiped me clean within the week.”

She shook her head. “I am actually curious to know if you've heard of a storeroom for rent. And if you've advice on how to go about getting some.”

“Well, now...” He scratched his chin. “I can't say I've heard a thing about that. Maybe the best one you should be talking to is a solicitor? I bought this place years ago and don't reckon I remember which is the best way to go about finding any places for rent.”

Mary pasted a smile to her lips though her heart had sunk to her knees. “Very well. I shall try someone else.”

“Are you planning on opening a goods store?”

The too-casual question amused her. “Never fear, I shall only bring my herbs to you.”

“I don't care either way.” He shrugged, and Mary bit back a smile at the untruth.

She left him and walked the streets of Burns. There were, in fact, several rooms within buildings for sale. But which one would best suit her needs? She peered within dusty windows while pondering the situation.

“Yoo-hoo, Mary!”

Turning, Mary looked for the source of the female calling to her. Across the road a young woman dressed in a frilly garment scooted over, clutching her dress in one hand and a parasol in the other.

Amy. Gracie's friend. She waited as the girl dashed over.

“How nice to see you again.” Amy's smile spread wide and fresh.

“And you.” Mary inclined her head. “Your dress is lovely.”

“Why, thank you. I'm attending a wedding. A Monday wedding, which is rather romantic. This gentleman returned from the war and my friend Sally had waited ever so long for him, but he'd been hurt, you see, and had to recuperate. Well, they're finally marrying and it's the biggest to-do.”

“That is very romantic,” Mary acknowledged, feeling her own heart wither beneath the girl's innocent, starry outlook. “Young love—”

“Oh, they're not young.” Freckles trotted across Amy's features with bold perkiness. Rather like their wearer's voice. “She's been waiting years, ever since school days, and it took his going to war for him to realize that she was the woman for him. It helped that she nursed him back to health, as well.”

There seemed to be an underlying message in Amy's eyes, and Mary shifted uncomfortably. “I suppose such a thing could bring about a certain closeness.”

“It most certainly can.” Amy's grin stretched as she swooped her parasol to point at Mary. “I must be off, but wanted to run over and say hello. Also, I had a bit of news about that murderer.”

“You did?”

“Yep.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “Turns out that good-looking stranger has been released. The police have a new suspect. I don't know why or how it all came about.” She straightened. “Well, then, care to join me at the wedding?”

“No, thank you.” Her mind churned.

“Boy, it's sweltering out here.” Up popped the parasol. A vigorous wave and then Amy was off in a different direction.

Mary watched her, feeling a strange intermingling of bewilderment and laughter. When Gracie returned, she probably ought to join her on one of her outings with Amy. She rather liked the girl.

A quick glance in both directions proved the road to be empty. She crossed and moments later knocked on a local deputy's door.

“Hullo?” The elderly man poked his head out. The scent of Colgate shaving cream wafted out and reminded Mary that she needed to get home and help Lou before dusk.

Shrugging off the thought, she straightened her shoulders and gave him a serious look. “Sir, is it true that a murderer has been released from your custody?”

“I highly doubt that.” The door widened to reveal his bent structure.

Frowning, she held his gaze. “I've been told the man originally arrested for assault, the man I pointed out to you, is no longer under suspicion.”

“Don't know how you heard those details but it's true. Mr. Langdon is no longer considered a suspect. We have a man who came forward and confessed. Is that all you needed today?”

Dumbly, she nodded. She turned and walked down the road, back to her horse, mulling over the deputy's words. It seemed rather convenient that a man confessed.
Too
convenient. And incredibly bothersome.

Did Mr. Langdon know she'd pointed him out as a suspect? She could only guess he did, and of course he knew she worked at Lou's ranch.... A shudder swept through her despite the summer warmth.

Suddenly she had an urge to hurry home, to check on Josie and share with Lou what she'd learned. But perhaps he knew. He was a man who, for all his smiles and carefree words, kept secrets.

She reached her horse and mounted quickly. Casting a look down the road, she felt sure the coast was clear and galloped out of town. She passed the Paiute settlement on the way and waved.

The sight of the dogs, the misplaced tents and the run-down people filled her with sadness. But for her Irish father and renegade mother, she might be weaving baskets for an income and living in a canvas tent that would never be her own.

The horse's even movements lulled her into deep thoughts of the past. She'd been thirteen when her mother dropped her off with Trevor's mom, at the house of ill repute she'd owned.

Although she'd known Trevor since she was a wee one, her mother's constant moving had kept them in sporadic touch. When her da had disappeared and the men in her mother's life had started looking at Mary, she'd dropped her off for safety with Trevor's mom and gone in search of Da.

That choice had forged a loyalty between Mary and Trevor that had kept her safe until she was eighteen. Until Trevor's mother had grown impatient with Mary's decision to be the house seamstress and nothing more. Until she'd seen the growing bond between her son and her friend's daughter. Until her jealousy had forced her to do the unthinkable....

Mary blinked and urged her horse to move faster, wishing the hot air against her skin could melt the memories that blistered her heart and twisted her stomach. She glanced at the sky. It must be nearing three o'clock. She would go home, make a meal, help Lou, and then she'd have to speak with Josie to explain what must happen soon.

Would the little girl understand?

Mary felt sure she wouldn't. Every day it seemed the pressure on her shoulders grew heavier. It had taken Gracie leaving and Lou being home to make her see how much she longed for family. After her self-induced seclusion of twelve years, the need for family and belonging bludgeoned her senses and as Lou had said, twisted her priorities.

It had been wrong for her to try to keep Josie for so long. A little girl needed her mother and for all she knew, Josie's mother had been frantic with worry. Powerless to change anything since she was ill.

Oh, Lord, forgive me
.

Keeping Josie from her mother was the biggest mistake Mary had ever made. How could she have been blind to it for so long? Thinking only of her own desires and not another's?

This must be fixed. Tomorrow she would leave with Lou and do what must be done. It was time to put her trust in the God who had saved her from wicked people, who had filled her with peace.

A hawk swooped ahead, gliding through the sky in search of food. Like that bird, God would care for her and tend to her needs. She must believe it.

And it started with thanks, something she'd sorely neglected since Lou had returned with his injury and since she'd been busy taking care of Josie.

The hawk disappeared from view, its majestic red-tipped wings spread in splendor against the azure sky. Mary lifted her face upward, feeling the graze of sunlight against her skin, and began a song to praise her King.