To Win Her Heart (29 page)

If hate could put on a body and walk around, it would look exactly like the stranger who pushed through the crowd and planted himself in front of Levi. The coldness of the man’s gaze sent a shiver through Eden. He slanted his head to the side. The sound of cracking vertebrae echoed in the sudden stillness. He repeated the action in the other direction and slowly circled his shoulders.

“In the interest of justice,” the sheriff announced, “I arranged a sparring contest mimicking that fatal bout from two years ago. Tom Goodwin deserves the chance to avenge his brother, and the town of Spencer deserves to see the true nature of the man they welcomed into their midst.”

The saloon crowd buzzed.

“The Anvil’s gonna fight! Did ya hear?”

“My money’s on Goodwin. Look at his eyes. He’s gonna settle that score or die tryin’.”

“I’ll take that bet. You didn’t see Grant swing that hammer out at the quarry. The man’s tireless and strong as an ox.”

Money changed hands, voices rose, and panic seized Eden by the throat. She had to do something—but what? Conrad Pratt was so bent on discrediting Levi that he refused to listen to anything rational. Eden focused on Levi, willing him to look at her, to somehow communicate to her what she should do. But he had eyes only for his opponent.

She knew the toll fighting had taken on his soul. He couldn’t do this. They were backing him into a corner. It wasn’t fair. Why didn’t somebody stop it?

Eden searched the crowd for help, only now realizing the lack of sympathetic faces. Sheriff Pratt had rigged the game in his favor. Dave Cranford, Harvey Sims, Claude Barnes—none of Levi’s friends were among the throng. The only person who met her gaze with a hint of compassion was Violet, but she made no move to interfere.

Someone came up behind Eden and cupped her shoulders. “Come, Miss Spencer. You don’t want to get caught up in the middle of this mess.” Alex Carson drew her back to where the council members stood.

She turned to him and grabbed his hand. “Please, Alex. You must stop this.”

“I don’t think I can.” He shook his head. “The townsfolk feel betrayed. Mr. Grant played them for fools.”

“No, he hasn’t. The past is just that—the past. What matters is the man he is now.” Eden tightened her grip, squeezing the man’s hand as if she could force the truth under his skin and into his heart. “Levi’s been nothing but good for this town.”

“He killed a man, Eden. That can’t be forgiven.”

“Yes it can!” She was living proof. But before she could argue further, Hattie Fowler let out another gasp.

“Merciful heavens, Chester.” She fanned herself with her hand as she sputtered. “They’re . . . they’re disrobing!”

Eden spun around. Mr. Goodwin had stripped out of his shirt and snapped his suspenders over bare shoulders—shoulders that were nearly as wide as Levi’s. Unlike the drunkard who had accosted Levi outside the smithy, this man would inflict serious damage if he were set loose.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.
What can I do?
Her mind screamed the question but offered no answer.

Levi hadn’t moved. He stood ramrod straight, eying Goodwin but making no move to follow his example.

“Time to show us what you’re made of, Grant,” the sheriff prodded. “Make ready.”

“I’m not fighting.”

He said it loud and clear. With conviction. Silencing the crowd. Hope soared in Eden’s breast. Maybe now reason would finally penetrate the thick skulls of the onlookers. It took two to fight, and Levi would have no part in their bloodthirsty game.

“He
has
to fight,” one man called out. “We already laid wagers.”

A roar of agreement escalated.

“Salazar. Help him with his coat.” The sheriff motioned for the spectators to move back and then used his bootheel to draw a line in the packed dirt of the schoolyard. “I promised the men a fight, and a fight there will be. If Grant wants to bleed all over his shirt, that’s his choice.”

Eden felt reason drain away from the group once again, taking her hope with it. She turned once again to plead with the councilmen. “Mr. Draper, please. Call Pratt off. Don’t you see how pointless this is? Levi has admitted his wrongs. What does forcing him to fight achieve? Nothing!”

“It gives Goodwin a chance to right the wrong done to his family.”

Eden blinked at him, incredulous that he made such an absurd statement with a straight face. “Pounding fists into a man’s flesh doesn’t make anything
right
. All it does is make an old wrong worse.”

The banker pushed her gently aside. “You’re a woman, Miss Spencer. You wouldn’t understand.”

She stared at each of the council members in turn. “Levi’s a man of his word. If he says he won’t fight, he won’t. Forcing him to face Goodwin will be inviting a massacre. And the blood will be on your hands.”

“Your man is built like a mountain,” Chester Fowler said. “He won’t let Goodwin take him down without defending himself.” He patted her arm with such placation, Eden wanted to scream. “He might not want to fight, but his survival instinct will surge and he’ll protect himself. Don’t worry, dear.”

Dear?
Of all the condescending, addlepated . . . The man was acting as if she were some hysterical, irrational creature in need of soothing. Didn’t they realize
they
were the ones being irrational?

Disgusted, she stepped away. She’d receive no help from that corner. Eden walked toward the carriage, her eyes once again on Levi. Salazar was working to strip the coat from his back, with little success. Levi didn’t struggle but neither did he help. He was a picture of dignity. Eden was so proud of him, she ached with it.

The saloon owner finally managed to get the coat off and tossed it onto the ground a few inches away from the rear buggy wheel. Her focus still on her blacksmith, she bent to retrieve the coat. She dusted it off, smoothed out the wrinkles, and held it close to her heart, just as she longed to do with the man who’d worn it.

“Toe the line, gentlemen.” The sheriff’s call speared through Eden like a dart. She tossed the coat onto the buggy seat and grabbed onto one of the spokes that supported the bonnet, her grip so tight the slender rod dug painfully into her palm.

Without hesitation, Goodwin moved to the far side of the dirt line.

Levi, however, held fast. “I made a vow, Pratt. A vow before God that I would never again fight for man or money. I will not break that vow.”

“Is that so?” The sheriff walked a slow circle around Levi, his skepticism palpable. He halted directly behind him and clasped the blacksmith’s shoulders. “Well, now’s your chance to prove to the good people of Spencer exactly how much you’ve changed.”

In a blur of motion, Pratt brought his boot up and shoved. Levi staggered forward, tripping across the fight line as he grappled to regain his balance. Tom Goodwin’s fist immediately pounded into the side of Levi’s head.

Eden gasped. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away, the violence making her ill. But her heart wouldn’t let her hide. Not when the man she loved was under attack.

She opened her eyes in time to see Levi throw up a hand to ward off another blow. He pushed Goodwin back and somehow managed to get his feet under him.

Sheriff Pratt’s laughter rang in Eden’s ears. “Now we’ll see the kind of man you truly are, Grant.”

Shouts thundered from the saloon crowd, the noise increasing with each punch Goodwin landed.

“Get him, Anvil. My money’s on you!”

“Rip his head off!”

“Don’t just stand there, fool. Fight!”

But Levi refused. He blocked what shots he could and dodged others, yet he never struck back.

The longer the one-sided fight went on, the more unruly the crowd became. The cheers for Levi dissipated, replaced by boos and insults. Those who had wagered shouted out angry threats each time Levi took a hit. Which happened with growing frequency.

Tears ran down Eden’s cheeks as minute after minute passed and Levi visibly weakened. His blocking slowed, and Goodwin connected blow after blow. Each time Levi took a direct hit, Eden’s agony intensified. Then as she watched, Goodwin’s fist smashed into Levi’s side. It collided with such force, the resulting thud echoed in Eden’s chest. Before Levi could recover, his opponent struck his jaw hard enough to snap his head back on his neck like a boneless rag doll. Her blacksmith, in all his powerful glory, crumpled.

“Levi!” Eden ran to him as he labored to his knees and then his feet. But before she could touch him, a pair of hard arms banded around her middle.

“Stay out of this, Eden,” the sheriff growled in her ear as he dragged her away.

She kicked and twisted and contorted her body until she slipped beneath his grasp. She lunged forward and grasped Levi’s arm. He wobbled and had to step back to steady himself. Blood stained his face from a cut above his right eye and another from his lip. Red abrasions marked his jaw, and his torso bent protectively to the left. He wasn’t going to survive this unhampered brutality much longer.

“Fight back. I can’t bear to watch him kill you. Please, fight back!”

Soul-deep sadness radiated from Levi’s eyes. Eden knew what his answer was going to be before he uttered a word, but when he spoke, the finality of it cleaved her in two.

“I won’t break my vow, Eden. Not even for you.”

This time when the sheriff’s arms closed around her, Eden didn’t fight. As he pulled her away, she smiled through her tears at her brave warrior, lending him the only support she could. “I love you.”

“I—” A fist to his face cut off his reply.

Sheriff Pratt tossed Eden back into the crowd. He glared and pointed a finger at the man who caught her. “Talk some sense into the little she-devil, will you, Alex? She’s liable to get herself hurt with another stunt like that. Fighting’s a man’s business.”

Eden leapt to her feet, her own hands balled into fists. “But Levi’s not fighting! Surely you can see that. He’s proven to be a man of his word. Call it off.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. I’m a man of my word, too. I promised Goodwin a chance to avenge his brother, and I’ll see that he gets it.”

Just then a groan vibrated through the crowd. Eden swiveled back to the fight. Levi had gone down. Goodwin grabbed him by the hair and slammed his fist into his face. Levi’s body flopped to the ground and didn’t move. That did nothing to deter Goodwin, though. He reached for his hair a second time.

“He’s killing him! You’ve got to stop this. Please!” She broke away from Alex Carson and grabbed the sheriff by his shirt, but he pushed her aside.

“It’s gone far enough,” she heard Norman Draper say. “The man’s beaten, Conrad. Call a stop to the fight.”

“Not yet. Grant’s just playing possum.” The sheriff crossed his arms over his chest, and no one made a move to do anything. Meanwhile Goodwin continued his beating. Levi’s battered body lay limp upon the ground, moving only when his opponent rammed a fist or foot into him.

Eden eased away from the men, her mind suddenly calm and clear. She circled past the carriage, then over to the schoolhouse. No one paid her any mind. They were too busy drinking in the gore of the one-sided match.

A homemade baseball bat and ball lay forgotten against the side of the building, waiting for the boys who had left them there after yesterday’s recess. Taking the bat in her hands, Eden gripped the handle and crept forward.

Levi might have promised the Lord not to fight, but she’d made no such vow.

Not wanting to think about what she was about to do, or worse, give someone the chance to stop her, Eden rushed at Goodwin from behind, bat raised. The man had Levi by the hair, his arm poised for another blow. But Eden beat him to the punch. She swung the bat with all her might, crashing it across his wide shoulders.

The man roared and turned on her, his eyes glazed with rage. He swatted the stick out of her hand and shoved her to the ground. Eden collided with the unforgiving earth, her grunt echoing loudly through the stunned silence that gripped the crowd.

“Stay out of this, woman,” Goodwin seethed.

Eden braced her arms beneath her and met the man’s glare. “Where is the honor in brutalizing a man who doesn’t fight back? It’s no better than gunning down an unarmed man in the street. You’re not honoring your brother by your deeds today, Mr. Goodwin. You’re dishonoring yourself.”

“Don’t talk to me of my brother. He had a wife, children. His family deserves justice!”

“This isn’t justice!” Eden yelled.

Goodwin growled and drew back his arm. His open palm barreled toward her face. Eden cringed and cried out. A gray blur sprang across her body and latched on to Goodwin’s arm. Eden scurried backward on her hands and heels. Ornery!

The dog’s throat rumbled guttural threats as he dug his teeth into the man’s flesh. Goodwin cursed and tried to shake him loose, but Ornery held firm.

Eden scrambled to her feet as Goodwin leaned down and closed his left hand on the handle of the discarded bat. He swung an awkward arc and glanced a blow off Ornery’s head. The dog yelped and fell away, thudding onto the ground. But he wasn’t done battling. Ornery shook himself and rolled to his feet. He eyed his opponent, growled, and bared his teeth. Goodwin waved the bat in the air, shouting at the dog to back off. Ornery lowered his head and held his ground. The fighter heaved the bat over his shoulder. Eden jumped forward, thinking to grab the weapon from behind, but the percussive crack of a shotgun pulled her up short.

“Drop the bat, mister, or I’ll fill you so full of lead the undertaker will charge double to bury you!”

Chloe?
Eden spun toward her friend’s voice. Sure enough, Chloe stood in the driver’s box of a wagon, a shotgun wedged against her shoulder and a scowling Duncan holding a tight rein on the horses.

The bat fell to the dirt, and Goodwin raised his hands in the air. Ornery retreated until he straddled Levi, then snapped and snarled at the surrounding crowd.

“Ooooh, Chester . . .” Hattie’s voice died off, halting in a thump.

Eden felt no sympathy for the fainting woman, but her heart cheered as she saw Levi’s hand reach out to pat Ornery’s side.
He’s alive! Thank you, God. Thank you!

“I warned you about that dog, Grant. He’s a menace.” Sheriff Pratt pulled his revolver.

“No!” Eden cried.

“I’d hate to be putting a bullet in a lawman, so I’d appreciate ye lowerin’ yer weapon, sir.” Duncan now stood beside Chloe in the wagon, a rifle braced against his hip, the reins tied off around the brake lever. The Scotsman’s middle must have been on fire from all the jostling of the wagon ride and the sudden lurch to his feet, but his face betrayed not a hint of it. He looked as steely as a hired gun. “In fact,” he said, “why don’t ye toss it on the ground and kick it back toward that tree, there. Roy, if ye’d collect it, please?”

The bartender stepped away from Violet and strode purposefully toward the sheriff. He retrieved the gun and promptly pointed it at his boss. “You ain’t plannin’ on causing any trouble, are you, Salazar?”

The owner of the Hang Dog moved his right hand away from his hip and shook his head. “No. But you can count yourself out of a job after this.”

Roy shrugged. “I’ve been savin’ up to buy my own place anyway.”

With all the immediate threats to Levi neutralized, Eden rushed past Goodwin and knelt by her blacksmith. She rubbed Ornery’s neck. “Good boy. Easy now. The danger’s over.”

The dog stepped aside and sat down as she instructed, but he remained between Goodwin and Levi, continuing to protect his master.

Eden gently stroked Levi’s cheek, afraid to do anything that would cause him more pain. His thick hair was matted with blood and dirt, one eye had swelled shut, and his lip was twice the size it should have been, but he was breathing, and right now that’s all she cared about.

“Levi? Can you hear me?”

He groaned and tried to lift his head. Eden uncurled her legs from beneath her and carefully steered his battered head into her lap. He sighed. Not caring who saw, she bent forward and pressed her lips to his temple.

“How fares he, lass?” Duncan’s question brought her head up.

“He could use a doctor.”

“Jamison,” he called to one of the quarry workers in the crowd. “Would ye be so kind as to fetch Dr. Adams?”

The man tugged at his collar and tried to duck behind the man at his side.

Duncan cleared his throat and added a layer of steel to his voice. “It’d be a shame for Mr. Fieldman to learn of yer part in these goings-on, Jamison. I’m thinkin’ he might be a tad displeased to learn ye did nothing to help the man who worked beside him to save the lives of yer fellow quarrymen.”

The young man backed away, holding his hands out in front of him as if to ward off the guilt Duncan was dishing out. But he made it to his horse and kicked up a cloud of dust in his hurry to get to town.

“And Reed. Find something to bind our friend’s wrists.” Duncan cocked his head at Goodwin and another quarry worker jumped to do his bidding. “The circuit judge will be deciding his fate.”

“Now hold on,” the sheriff sputtered. “You can’t go around arresting people. I’m the law in this town, not you.”

“That may not be the case much longer.” Eden cleared her throat, choking down the anger and resentment that rose within her as she stared down the cocky sheriff. “I’ll be writing my father this afternoon with the recommendation that the council begin impeachment proceedings immediately. Not only did you fail to protect one of Spencer’s citizens, you forced him into harm’s way.”

Pratt glowered down at her. “I committed no crime here, Miss Spencer. You can’t impeach me.”

Eden’s mind spun, searching for a logical argument to throw in his face. But nothing came. She glared at him, hating the impotence of such a gesture. The harder she frowned, the wider he smiled, the smugness of it eating away at her.

“What about trying to force himself on a woman?” Chloe interjected into the quiet. “That’s a crime, ain’t it, Miss Eden?”

Having Levi’s head in her lap was the only thing that kept Eden from leaping to her feet as outrage sluiced through her veins. “Are you saying that Sheriff Pratt was the man who attacked you that night, Chloe?”

The girl nodded, her cheeks flaming.

Duncan vaulted off the wagon and charged the sheriff, his rifle held like a club.

“No, Duncan! Don’t!” Chloe scrambled after him.

As Duncan barreled past, Eden pleaded with the Lord to intervene. The young man’s ribs would never stand up to Pratt’s fists, no matter how brave his heart. Thankfully, Norman Draper stepped between Duncan and the sheriff at the last minute and wrested the rifle from the Scotsman’s hands.

“Easy, son.”

Duncan reached over the banker’s shoulder to point an accusing finger at the sheriff. “He attacked an innocent young woman. He deserves to rot in that jail o’ his.”

“Innocent?” Pratt laughed. “She’s the daughter of a whore, boy-o. There’s nothing innocent about her.”

Duncan bellowed and launched himself over Draper to get at the sheriff. He punched the lawman square in the mouth before two council members pulled him off.

Pratt worked his jaw and spat out a stream of bloody spittle. “Thanks, fellas. It’s good to know the council has my back.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Norman Draper turned to meet Eden’s eye. “Miss Spencer, in that letter, you may tell your father that I fully support the impeachment proceedings.”

“What?” Pratt yanked his hat from his head and beat it hard enough against his thigh to mangle the brim. “The girl is lying. She’s got no proof.”

“I got a chamber pot with a dent in the bottom that’ll match your head,” Chloe quipped.

Nervous laughter tittered through what was left of the crowd.

Roy stepped forward. “I heard him rake Salazar over the coals for letting the girl escape. Demanded his money back and threatened to close the saloon down if Sal didn’t make it right.”

“And Levi told me that he overhead a man’s voice and a scuffle before Chloe climbed out the alley window,” Eden added. “I’m sure when he recovers, he’d be glad to testify.”

“Hand over your badge, Conrad.” Draper held out his palm, his face stern. “You’re hereby suspended of duties pending a full investigation.”

Pratt slammed his hat onto his head and tore the badge from his vest. Ignoring the councilman’s hand, he hurled the piece of metal into the dirt at his feet and stormed off.

Eden sagged in relief and turned her full attention back to the man stretched out beside her. His breathing was steady, if a bit labored. He looked terrible and no doubt hurt everywhere, but he would mend. Her hand moved to resume its stroking motion over his hair when the less swollen of his two eyes opened and met her gaze. Her fingers froze.

Pounding hoofbeats forecasted the doctor’s arrival, but Eden’s focus never strayed from Levi. “It’s over,” she said.

“I know.” He tried to smile, but his bloodied lip wouldn’t do more than twitch. “Want to tell you . . . got interrupted . . .” His eyelid drooped, and his words drifted away.

Eden’s chest throbbed. “You can tell me later,” she assured him, stuffing down her disappointment while her fingers brushed the hair at the top of his head. “It’s all right to rest.”

“No . . . tell you . . . now.” His words were so low they were hard to make out.

Eden leaned closer.

Levi’s languid eyelid slowly rolled upward. “Love . . . you.”