Consider the Lilies (Wyldhaven Book 4), page 20
“Nothing.” Zoe only allowed herself the briefest moment of guilt for the deception. “Is Belle here? I have her painting.”
Ma rubbed a wrist over her forehead, leaving a streak of flour before she resumed kneading. “She’s sweeping the front porch.”
Zoe started past the table. “I’ll just go tell her the good news.”
“Zoe? Where did you find the painting?”
“Belle dropped it in the yard and Washington”—too late, she realized that Ma had just figured out what had caused her discomposure—“found it and returned it just now.”
“I see.” Ma whacked the bread with a fist and Zoe got the distinct impression she might be envisioning Washington Nolan’s face.
“I’ll just…” She pointed toward the front porch and made her escape before Ma could ask any more probing questions.
Belle worked near the far rail with the straw broom in her hands.
Zoe hurried toward her. “Belle, Wash had your painting. He returned it just now and, oh, it’s lovely!”
Belle gave a little squeal and chucked the broom against the railing. She clutched the painting to her chest. “Wash had it? How did he get it?”
“You dropped it that morning when you came home. He said to tell you he thinks it’s very good.”
Belle unrolled it and studied it with a critical eye. “All I can see are all the spots where I could have done better.”
“Well stop it. It’s amazing!” Zoe took one side of the canvas and draped her arm around Belle’s waist. She dropped her head onto Belle’s shoulder as they looked at the picture together. “I miss him.” Tears blurred her vision.
Belle sniffed. “Me too.” She paused for a moment but then hurried to say, “I think I’m going to go to Seattle and enroll in the Territorial University of Washington.”
Zoe lifted her gaze to assess Belle’s seriousness.
Belle nodded. “I read in the paper that they are building a new campus this year and that they are accepting more female students—even building special dorms for women. Did you know that their first graduate was a woman? Imagine! And they have a degree for artists, but…” She bit her lower lip and squinted her eyes at Zoe. “I think I’m going to need your help to convince Ma.”
“Oh Belle!” Zoe drew Belle tighter to her side. “I’ll do my best, but she’s not going to be happy about it.”
Belle eased back and swiped at her cheeks with a nod. “I know. But Pa would have wanted this for me.”
“Yes. He would have.” Zoe reached out to gently touch Pa’s face on the painting. “You should show it to her. Maybe when she sees how good you’ve become, she’ll realize that you have to utilize this talent.”
Belle sniffed. “Not likely.”
Zoe gave her sister one last squeeze. “Give her a chance. I’d best get inside and help her finish up dinner.”
Zoe was truly happy for her sister to go off to fulfill her dreams, but as she walked away from Belle, Zoe felt her emotions deflate.
Because if Belle was going to defy Ma and go off to artistry schooling, then it would even more so fall to Zoe to be the good daughter who didn’t cause Ma any heartache.
And that definitely meant no more kissing Washington Nolan.
She gave a little nod. Later she’d walk to the Nolan place and let him know it could never happen again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jacinda stood at the window in her room, looking through the lace curtains toward the new bank building. Construction was almost complete now and according to Dixie, who had stopped by a bit earlier to bring food, the new banker, Merle Olann, had arrived in town last evening searching for land to build his young wife and daughter a home. As soon as he got the house built, his wife would bring their baby daughter from back east.
Jacinda glanced over her shoulder toward her door. She’d told Zane she wanted to rest, but the truth was, despite Doc’s pain powders, she hadn’t been able to get Zane’s admonitions out of her head all day.
He was right. She did like to smooth everyone’s way. If she could, she would go through life hauling a cart of pillows so she might quickly thrust one under anyone who was about to experience a bump of any sort. And he was also right, that she’d only started that after Wade had passed. She had been torn asunder by his death. By watching Reagan grow up without a father. And she’d done the very best she could to protect him from further pain. And that had, she supposed, spilled into other relationships in her life. And then, in turn, rebounded to protect her own heart.
And he was also right that it was time to let that all go.
To risk again.
Because she didn’t want to keep living in the sin of worry.
She’d spent a good deal of time flipping through her Bible this afternoon despite the fact that her head had ached each time she focused on the words. And each passage had confirmed Zane’s words. Yes, being a servant and serving others was a good thing, but her attitude and reason for doing it needed to change.
She wasn’t sure how she would accomplish a change of heart, but she aimed to try. And maybe with Zane’s help and a lot of pleading with God to realign her focus, she could bring her life back into line with God’s Word.
But that wasn’t the scariest part of the whole thing. Not by a long shot.
She had also realized that Zane was correct about the reasons she’d been keeping him at arm’s length. It was the worry not of loving but of losing someone again. So if she wanted to take her newfound resolve all the way, she needed to see whether this attraction between her and Zane could grow into full bloom.
And if she was going to tell him before she lost her nerve, she’d best go and find him right now.
She slipped out her door and carefully held the rail as she made her way down the stairs.
He wasn’t in the parlor. Wasn’t in her sewing room, nor the dining room. She met him, just as he stepped out of the kitchen with a tea tray in his big hands. The tiny silver handles of the tray looked at odds in his broad muscular grip.
He assessed her from head to toe and back again. “A little soon for you to be below-stairs, isn’t it? How’s your head?”
Fingers trembling, she laid her hand over the back of his. “A little soon for you to be lifting tea trays, isn’t it? How’s your shoulder?” She took in his lack of sling with pinched lips, but reminded herself of her newfound determination not to worry.
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I won’t deny that Doc’s pain powders tempted me a fair bit last night, but I wanted to be fully alert if I needed to be. I may have slept better had I taken them, but I did get several hours sleep and I feel some better today. Now it’s your turn.”
She smiled. “I won’t deny that I was also tempted to take more of Doc’s pain powders, but I wanted to be in my right mind for a discussion I’d like to have with you.”
His brows shot upward. He swallowed. His gaze slipped over her features. “Maybe I should set this tray down.”
“Yes. Maybe you should.”
He strode to the table and slid the tray onto it.
Jacinda followed him and lifted the teapot. “In fact, why don’t you fetch yourself a cup and we can both have some tea?”
He glanced at the clock across the room and she immediately recognized his urgency.
“You have to go, don’t you?”
“I’m afraid so. I was just bringing this up to you and then was going to head out on some…official business.”
Her heart squeezed. Her pulse pattered. Her palms turned clammy. Official business meant he was going after the outlaws who’d chained her. Kidnapped Doc. Shot him.
And then in a blink she realized that she was worrying again. Consider the Lilies. Did she trust in God alone? She set the teapot down, pulled in a breath, and forcibly flexed her hands. She shouldn’t even ask where he was off to. But she couldn’t help herself. “Is this the plan I overheard you and Joe discussing? To set a trap for the outlaws?”
He folded his arms and his eyes narrowed a little. “It is.”
“I don’t like it, Zane. It’s so dangerous.” She settled trembling fingers over her heart.
He tilted his head, stepping closer to take her hand in his. “That’s part of the job. But these outlaws will know this run could be a decoy. They won’t risk killing us outright because they’ll want to see the gold first. They’ll keep us alive long enough to see if they need us for information. By the time they figure out the gold isn’t real, we’ll have captured them. What did you want to discuss?” He thumbed a caress over her knuckles.
Jacinda searched his face. Was he telling her the truth? Or just some made up story to set her mind at ease. He wouldn’t do that, would he?
She dropped her focus to their hands. His was broad and brown and sturdy. It engulfed hers with warmth and comfort. Would she ever see him again? Have the opportunity to settle her hand into the strength of his? And if she did, a moment just like this would come again in the future—one where she stood and watched him ride away into danger—because this was who he was. A man who sacrificed his own safety for the good of the community he was sworn to protect.
The risk terrified her, and yet the very characteristics that made him that hero were what made him worth loving. And she was finally ready. Joy bloomed, and she lifted a contented smile. She would tell him. But now was not the time.
“Jac?”
She remembered that he waited for her to state her reason for wanting to speak to him. “We can talk another time if you need to be on your way.”
He stepped closer, obviously curious about her smile. “I have a few minutes.”
Pressing her lips together, she traced one finger over the stubble of his jaw. “What I have to say would be better unrushed. It will wait till you get back.”
He touched her chin, his brows arching with hope. “Tell me it’s something I’ll want to hear and I’ll do my best to hurry back as quickly as I can.”
“It is something you’ll want to hear.”
“Well, I’ll be.” His finger stroked a warm trail across her jawline. “Tonight then. And not a moment later.”
With a long slow inhale, she willed her heartrate to return to normal. “Lilies are such a beautiful flower, don’t you think?”
A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That’s my girl.”
“Be careful out there.”
“Always.” With that, he let his hand drop, and strode from the room.
Jacinda’s eyes fell closed. Lord, I’m trying to trust in You alone, but there’s nothing wrong with praying for the safety of those we love, is there? Please keep Zane and the others safe, and bring these outlaws to justice.
Kin rode into Cle Elum and reined his mount to a stop at the hitching post by the livery. He’d retrieved the money Marshal Zane had given him for hiring the wagon, and now it weighed heavy in his pocket.
The bawdy music of a mostly out-of-tune piano called to him. He swallowed and didn’t even let himself look toward the saloon. The townsfolk of Wyldhaven had been good to him for a lot of years. He wouldn’t repay their kindness by stealing their money and spending it on drink.
“Howdy there! What can I do ya for?” The Cle Elum liveryman was even more ancient than old Bill in Wyldhaven.
Kin stuck out his hand. “Afternoon. I’m here to hire a wagon and a driver. Can pay extra if the driver can prove he’s a crack shot. Name’s Davis. Kin Davis.”
That made the old man squint up his eyes as he took Kin’s hand. “I charges extry for every last bullet hole I find when you return my wagons.” His handshake was as limp as a dead fish. Something Parson Clay would have had a say about. The parson despised tepid handshakes.
Kin nodded. “I’m good for it.”
“Are ya now?” The old man assessed him from head to toe. “Well, I suppose I’ll havta take yer word for it.” He spat a stream of tobacco into one corner and waved a hand for Kin to follow. “I’ll show ya the wagons I got back here. But I ain’t got no driver for ya. There’s a fire out to one o’ the nearby ranches and every last man round these parts is off a helpin’.”
Kin paused. The marshal had emphasized that he needed to be in the back of the wagon, out of sight so that none of the outlaws recognized him, but he hadn’t said what to do if there was no available driver. “Can you drive it? Just to Wyldhaven?”
The old man cackled as if that was the funniest thing he’d heard in a long time. “No sirree, not I. I knows a s’picious job when I hears about it. ’Sides... I cain’t see worth a lick no more. You don’t want this ol’ coot shootin’ at whate’er’s gonna be shootin’ back. These here are the wagons I got.”
Kin lifted his hat and scratched at the back of his head.
One of the wagons was exactly what he needed. It even had a large crate nailed into the wagon bed that would make a perfect hiding place and double to make the outlaws think it was where the gold lay hidden.
“I’ll take this one.” He handed over the payment and waited for the old man to jot his notations in his book. Through the livery doors, Kin studied the buildings along the street, wondering what he should do now. “You sure there’s not a driver available in town?”
“Kid, you callin’ me a liar?”
Kin shook his head. “No, sir.”
“I’m tellin’ you, every man jack o’ them is out to the Bar M helpin’ fight that blaze. Even the saloon is closed.”
Kin frowned. “But I heard singing.”
The old man waved a hand and tucked Kin’s payment into his desk drawer. “That’s just Ray’s girls, takin’ advantage o’ the fact that all the men be outta town.”
Kin’s brows lifted. Saloon girls.
He took up the poke with the remainder of the money and thrust it inside his shirt pocket, then grinned at the old man. “Get the wagon hitched and I’ll be back for it.”
It only took him a few minutes to walk down to the saloon, and when he pushed through the doors, he could see that the old man had been right. The only occupants of the room were three soiled doves.
One played the piano, while the other two lounged atop it and sang drunkenly off key. They all stopped and stared at him.
After a moment, one of the ones on the piano slid off and sidled his way. At least he presumed she was trying to sidle. In truth, she barely kept her balance as she staggered through the card tables and chairs.
“Well lookee here, girls.” She giggled uproariously. “It’s a genuine man still about town.” She crashed into Kin’s chest and blinked up into his face. “Hi, sugar.” Her breath wafted over him and he couldn’t withhold a grimace. Was this what he was like when he’d been drinking?
Kin set her from him and focused on the piano player—the only one of the three who seemed like she might be mostly sober.
He swallowed. The woman was large. She was taller than him, and at least two times his weight and he was just over a hundred and seventy pounds. She closed the cover on the piano keys and stood. “Girl’s we’d best call it an afternoon. Head up to your rooms and get some sleep, aye?”
“Aw! She wants the lad for herself.”
The other two women stumbled up the stairs, lolling all over each other and laughing until they were in tears.
The large woman folded her arms and stepped out from behind the piano. She had a way of moving that made him thankful he wasn’t on her bad side...yet. “What can I do for you, lad?”
Kin was already debating the wisdom of his decision, but he didn’t really have any other choice, so he plunged ahead. “You know how to drive a wagon?”
She tilted her head and then burst out laughing. “That’s just about the last thing I figured you might ask.”
Kin only waited.
Finally, she regained her composure and nodded.
“Know how to handle a gun?”
“Honey, Ray didn’t hire me to protect his gals because o’ my looks.”
“It’s dangerous work, but you’d be paid.”
She offered a condescending grimace. “In my line of work, everything is dangerous. Lead the way.”
Kin stepped outside, rolling his eyes at himself. He was likely never going to hear the end of this from the fellas.
Zane stepped onto the porch and bent to make sure his holster was tightly tied. Blast the timing of all this. What he really wanted to do was go back in the house and see what Jacinda had to say, but her safety had to come first. He, Joe and Wash needed to get going if they were to meet the wagon that Kin should have headed this way from Cle Elum by now.
As he stalked toward the livery, Zane shook his head, still unable to fathom that circumstances had dictated that Kin Davis become a deputy. He sure hoped they weren’t going to regret the need for that decision.
Joe and Wash were already at the livery, and old Bill was just tightening the cinch on his own horse’s saddle.
He nodded at the old man. “Thanks, Bill.”
Bill slapped a hand to Zane’s good shoulder. “Go catch ’em.”
“Aim to.”
Taking the back way through the hills, they were able to cut several miles off the distance to Cle Elum and they met Kin and the wagon just this side of the town.
All three of them pulled up on the hillside, studied the scene below, and then looked at one another.
A woman—a very large woman—was driving the wagon. And she was singing at the top of her voice. Zane would have sworn it was the wrong wagon, except that was definitely Kin’s horse tied to the back of it.
“What has he gotten us into?”
Joe shrugged in his typical silent demeanor and clucked to his horse, angling down the hill.
Zane looked at Wash. “Remember you and Davis are the aces up our sleeves. Stay out of sight. Stay quiet. And whatever you do, don’t risk your life if it comes to that. You’ve still got a whole lot of living to do.”
Wash swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
Zane followed Joe down to the road and settled in to ride on the opposite side of the wagon from him.
The woman didn’t look at either of them, but stopped her singing long enough to speak. “Howdy, gentlemen. Name’s Kitty.” She lowered her voice. “Your boy is in the back there.”
