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Authors: Victoria Bylin
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her shoulder. “You must be exhausted. Would you like to rest a bit?”
Dani shook her head. “If I close my eyes, I’ll see Patrick.”
“A walk might be nice,” Adie said kindly.
“I think I will. Is the church open?”
“Always,” said the Reverend.
As she pushed to her feet, Dani looked at the tin steeple. The sun had dropped in the sky, turning it from silver to gray. The edges no longer seemed so sharp. Maybe she’d go inside. Maybe she wouldn’t. Mostly she wanted to cry and she wanted to do it alone. She looked across the yard and saw the girls. They seemed content, but in the distance she saw the stirring of dust from a wagon and recognized Beau Morgan holding the reins. He had her future in his hands, as well. She had to convince him she could handle the girls and the farm. That would be hard to do if they stayed with the Blues, but neither did she like the idea of an outlaw stalking them.
Patrick? Are you watching? What should I do?
Silence.
With her heart aching, Dani headed for the cemetery.
Beau steered the wagon into the yard and stopped. The chairs on the porch sent him back in time to Denver, where Josh and Adie had lived in a Mansion named Swan’s Nest. Beau and another deputy had taken to visiting on Wednesday nights. During the third visit, Josh had opened his Bible and read scriptures from Proverbs, the funny ones about fools and carping women. Their little group had turned into the Wednesday Ruckus, a men’s Bible study that didn’t mince words. That’s how Beau got roped into church on Sunday…How he’d met Lucy.
As he climbed down from the seat, he saw Josh come out of the parsonage. The man looked harder than ever. Rail thin and tall, he resembled a chimney pipe. Beau wasn’t in the mood for Josh’s kind of fire, but he was glad to see his old friend.
“Hello, Reverend.”
“Reverend?” The preacher faked a scowl. “You used to call me Josh.”
Beau offered his hand to shake, but Josh pulled him into a bear hug and thumped him hard between the shoulder blades. Beau pounded back. In Denver he’d enjoyed having friends, men who’d told jokes when times were bright and stayed quiet when they weren’t. He missed them. He missed a lot of things. He stepped back. “It’s been a long time.”
“Five years, friend.” Josh’s eyes burned like coal. “Where in the world have you been?”
“I think you know.”
“Only what you told Adie.” Josh put his hands on his hips, pulling back the flaps of his coat. “You and I need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” Beau’s voice dropped to a growl. He didn’t want to hear about forgiving his enemies. He wanted an eye for an eye. He wanted Clay Johnson to swing from a rope.
Josh aimed his chin at the girls. “You have three children in your care.”
“I know that.”
“And Miss Baxter, too.”
“Only because she’s too stubborn to go home.” Beau looked at the red curtains in the window. He half expected to see Miss Baxter spying on him, but the gingham hung straight. “Where is she?”
“Taking a walk. I’m sorry about Patrick.”
“Me, too,” Beau said. “Those girls are suffering.”
“So’s Miss Baxter.”
Beau didn’t need to be reminded of the woman’s tears. He’d been the one to deliver the bad news. He’d felt the same pain when Lucy died. “I know all about it.”
“Yes, you do.”
Beau appreciated Josh’s plain tone. He hated pity, but he hated Clay Johnson even more. A bitter rage burned in Beau’s soul. “Johnson’s close, Josh. I can smell him.”
“Is he a threat?”
“I don’t know.”
Beau told Josh about the trinkets Johnson had left him, the taunting letters. “I don’t know what he’ll do next. He could run, or he could turn the tables and come after me.”
Josh folded his arms again. “You know what I’m going to say.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Beau thought back to Lucy’s funeral. To Josh’s credit, he hadn’t said a word about
Dani shook her head. “If I close my eyes, I’ll see Patrick.”
“A walk might be nice,” Adie said kindly.
“I think I will. Is the church open?”
“Always,” said the Reverend.
As she pushed to her feet, Dani looked at the tin steeple. The sun had dropped in the sky, turning it from silver to gray. The edges no longer seemed so sharp. Maybe she’d go inside. Maybe she wouldn’t. Mostly she wanted to cry and she wanted to do it alone. She looked across the yard and saw the girls. They seemed content, but in the distance she saw the stirring of dust from a wagon and recognized Beau Morgan holding the reins. He had her future in his hands, as well. She had to convince him she could handle the girls and the farm. That would be hard to do if they stayed with the Blues, but neither did she like the idea of an outlaw stalking them.
Patrick? Are you watching? What should I do?
Silence.
With her heart aching, Dani headed for the cemetery.
Beau steered the wagon into the yard and stopped. The chairs on the porch sent him back in time to Denver, where Josh and Adie had lived in a Mansion named Swan’s Nest. Beau and another deputy had taken to visiting on Wednesday nights. During the third visit, Josh had opened his Bible and read scriptures from Proverbs, the funny ones about fools and carping women. Their little group had turned into the Wednesday Ruckus, a men’s Bible study that didn’t mince words. That’s how Beau got roped into church on Sunday…How he’d met Lucy.
As he climbed down from the seat, he saw Josh come out of the parsonage. The man looked harder than ever. Rail thin and tall, he resembled a chimney pipe. Beau wasn’t in the mood for Josh’s kind of fire, but he was glad to see his old friend.
“Hello, Reverend.”
“Reverend?” The preacher faked a scowl. “You used to call me Josh.”
Beau offered his hand to shake, but Josh pulled him into a bear hug and thumped him hard between the shoulder blades. Beau pounded back. In Denver he’d enjoyed having friends, men who’d told jokes when times were bright and stayed quiet when they weren’t. He missed them. He missed a lot of things. He stepped back. “It’s been a long time.”
“Five years, friend.” Josh’s eyes burned like coal. “Where in the world have you been?”
“I think you know.”
“Only what you told Adie.” Josh put his hands on his hips, pulling back the flaps of his coat. “You and I need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” Beau’s voice dropped to a growl. He didn’t want to hear about forgiving his enemies. He wanted an eye for an eye. He wanted Clay Johnson to swing from a rope.
Josh aimed his chin at the girls. “You have three children in your care.”
“I know that.”
“And Miss Baxter, too.”
“Only because she’s too stubborn to go home.” Beau looked at the red curtains in the window. He half expected to see Miss Baxter spying on him, but the gingham hung straight. “Where is she?”
“Taking a walk. I’m sorry about Patrick.”
“Me, too,” Beau said. “Those girls are suffering.”
“So’s Miss Baxter.”
Beau didn’t need to be reminded of the woman’s tears. He’d been the one to deliver the bad news. He’d felt the same pain when Lucy died. “I know all about it.”
“Yes, you do.”
Beau appreciated Josh’s plain tone. He hated pity, but he hated Clay Johnson even more. A bitter rage burned in Beau’s soul. “Johnson’s close, Josh. I can smell him.”
“Is he a threat?”
“I don’t know.”
Beau told Josh about the trinkets Johnson had left him, the taunting letters. “I don’t know what he’ll do next. He could run, or he could turn the tables and come after me.”
Josh folded his arms again. “You know what I’m going to say.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Beau thought back to Lucy’s funeral. To Josh’s credit, he hadn’t said a word about
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