Cowboy Lawman's Christmas Reunion Read online

  He scowled at her and slid a brief glance in Evangeline’s direction, never actually focusing on her face. “Well, of course, I’m going to help, Susanna.” He pulled a pair of leather gloves from his belt and donned them. “You going to run this cleanup, or shall I?”

  If Evangeline weren’t so nervous in his presence, she would laugh. Despite her diminutive size, Susanna had always been bossy and obviously hadn’t changed.

  “Why, I am, of course.” She led Mrs. Winsted to a chair. “Now you sit here and catch your breath, honey, and we’ll take care of everything. Evie, honey, fetch us some of those work gloves.” She pointed to a shelf. “We’ll have Homer Bean—he’s the store clerk—put them on my tab when he gets here. Now, you two get busy.” She waved Evangeline and Justice to work.

  “Guess we’d better do what she says.” Justice’s bemused expression didn’t look entirely sheriff-like.

  “I guess so.” Evangeline’s heart ached to enjoy working beside him, but how could she, when by simply doing his job, he might bring an end to everything she held dear?

  * * *

  When Evangeline sashayed into the mercantile, Justice’s heart kicked up something fierce, and he almost walked out of the store. If not for poor Mrs. Winsted’s dire circumstances, he’d leave bossy Susanna Northam and her cousin to restore order. But after her challenge, he couldn’t shirk his duty. Besides, he might find some clues as to the identity of the vandals among rifle slugs found at the scene.

  “Y’all be careful not to get cut.” Susanna took a broom and began sweeping at the front door. “The glass seems to be sprayed mostly in that direction.” She pointed toward the right side of the store where material, guns, lamps and other wares were displayed. “If we can make a path to the cash register, folks can still buy what they need. Good thing all the food is on this side.” She nodded toward the shelves behind the counter.

  She continued a running commentary about what she was doing and what sorry souls those vandals were and a host of other chatter. Preferring quiet, Justice wished she’d hush up and work quietly like Evangeline. Then he saw Mrs. Winsted stand and give herself a shake.

  “You’re right, Susanna. This isn’t the worst thing ever to happen to me.” The woman brushed away tears, grabbed a pair of gloves and joined the cleanup. “Thank you.”

  Justice cast a questioning glance at Evangeline, who was smiling at her cousin. What had he missed?

  “She’s amazing,” she whispered. “I would have sat beside Mrs. Winsted and cried with her.” She carefully picked up shards of glass from a bolt of material and dropped them into a china bowl.

  Her smile did something odd to Justice’s insides. She was still as beautiful as the young girl he’d fallen in love with. Even more beautiful now that she was a woman. To cover his admiration, he shrugged and went back to work. Women sure did communicate differently than men did.

  He heard a soft intake of breath and jerked his attention back to Evangeline, an odd little fear crowding into him. “Did you cut yourself?”

  “No.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “I just remembered. Today’s your birthday.”

  He scowled. “I suppose so. I don’t really pay much attention anymore.” And yet his chest expanded with foolish pleasure because she recalled it. To deflect her regard before she could say more and have the others notice, he added, “I seem to recall it’s also your anniversary. Same day you got married back in ’76?”

  She winced. More than winced. More like cowered. Here she was trying to be nice, and he’d reminded her of Lucius’s death. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure you miss your husband.”

  Now she actually shuddered. Justice supposed a year wasn’t long enough to grieve such a significant loss. After all these years, he still grieved for his parents. If he were honest with himself, he still grieved over losing Evangeline’s love.

  Nonsense. All water under the bridge.

  “Please accept my belated condolences for your father’s death.” She gazed at him, her blue eyes glistening. “I didn’t know he’d died until—”

  “Thanks.” He cut her off, not wanting to hear her platitudes, even if they were accompanied by tears. Instead, he bent to lift a broken kerosene lamp with a delicate flowered glass shade. “Shame about this.”

  She stood silent for a moment. “Yes. A shame.” Then she went back to work.

  One by one, people began to enter the business, including Homer Bean, the clerk, and most dug in right away to help. Despite the busyness, Susanna managed to introduce Evangeline to everyone, all of whom welcomed her. Despite much conversation, in about an hour, they’d cleaned up the store, and Mrs. Winsted had assessed the damages to her inventory.

  “They didn’t steal anything,” she told Justice. “But some items are beyond repair.”

  “You make me a list and include the cost of each one. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” Justice pocketed the slugs he’d found and fetched his hat from the front counter. “Thanks for your help, folks.” He raised his voice so all the helpers could hear him. “If you hear anything that can help me catch the culprits, let me know. I’ll arrange a reward.”

  He donned his hat and strode out the door. As usual, the good people of Esperanza had come together to help one of their own. Then why did he feel downright depressed?

  Easy question to answer. The woman who’d abandoned him at the moment of his greatest grief was casually weaving her way into the fabric of his town, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her.

  * * *

  “So you’re going to be our librarian.” Mrs. Winsted seemed nicely recovered from shock over her disaster. “Let me show you what we’ve been doing up to now.” She led Evangeline to the back of the store, where numerous books rested on several shelves. “Keeping track of these has been both a privilege and a bother, too often the latter. I don’t have time to chase people down when books are due back for the next person who wants to read them.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind my taking the books?” The last thing Evangeline wanted was to have one more person in Esperanza who held something against her. The hour working side by side with Justice nearly undid her.

  “Not at all. It’s a relief.” Mrs. Winsted tilted her head toward the nearby barred window behind which were mail slots. “In addition to running my store, I’m also the postmistress, so I have plenty to do.”

  “Why, yes. You were the one who knew Susanna’s maiden name and passed my letter along to her.”

  “That’s right.” The lady appeared pleased to have her clever work remembered. “She was delighted to hear from you.”

  They each spoke of their mutual affection for Susanna and for her father, who now lived in a small town in the southern part of the San Luis Valley with his second wife. Evangeline remembered Edward MacAndrews as a kind, loving father and uncle. What she didn’t tell Mrs. Winsted was how differently Edward Junior turned out. Once he found out his widowed father married a Mexican lady, he told all of their relatives Susanna and their father died on their trip west. When Evangeline realized she needed to flee New Orleans, she wrote to Edward in Georgia for help. He forbade her to come to Marietta but said she might find Susanna in Esperanza, Colorado. Shocked at his rejection but overjoyed to learn Susanna was alive after all, Evangeline had written to her. She’d posted the letter in a small town outside of New Orleans to throw Hugo off in case he tried to track her. But with his equally dishonest friends hiding behind every bush, she couldn’t be sure her ruse was successful.

  “I’d best get back to work.” Mrs. Winsted stepped toward the counter where her clerk was busily serving customers. “Thank you for your help, everyone.”

  “We were glad to do it.” Susanna approached from the other direction, her arms loaded with bolts of fabric. “Mrs. Winsted, I’ll take these. Evie and I have a lot of sewing to do.”
r />   “But, my dear, some of them are damaged.” The storekeeper fingered the torn material. “Let me cut off the ruined parts.”

  “Nonsense.” Susanna tugged the bolts away from her. “We can use all of it, even the small pieces. Lizzie and Isabelle can make clothes for their dolls, and we can make ragdolls for children coming to the Christmas party.” She winked at Evangeline, sending a private signal regarding other possible uses for the fabric. “Are you ready to see the library?”

  “Yes, indeed. Mrs. Winsted, if it’s all right with you, I’ll come in on Monday and move these books to their new home.”

  With all in agreement, Susanna completed her purchases, and the clerk loaded them into the back of the buggy.

  Across the street and down several doors from the mercantile sat the sheriff’s office, which included the jail. As Susanna drove the buggy past it, Evangeline saw Justice through the large front window, seated at a desk and bent over his work. An involuntary shudder rippled through her.

  Susanna gave her a curious glance, but nodded toward the next building, a pink stone edifice with two stories. “That’s the bank. The library’s around the corner.”

  They passed a charming stone fountain in the middle of the intersection. Despite last night’s freezing temperatures, artesian water streamed from a stone pitcher held by a sculpture of a fair lady in pioneer dress.

  “Here we are.” Susanna drove up to another pink stone building, this one narrow and deep, with a single story and a sign boasting Library in bold letters on the front of the flat roof.

  Evangeline stepped down from the buggy and followed Susanna inside. The front room, about the size of her large front parlor back in New Orleans, was dimly lit by the two windows on either side of the front door. A wood stove stood sentinel in one back corner, with a small stack of wood beside it. A desk and chair sat near the front window, and five tables with four chairs each were placed in random fashion about the room. Wooden boxes of books were stacked in front of the shelves built into three of the room’s walls.

  “The books were donated by various folks in and around town,” Susanna said. “Not many are new, but they’re in good condition.”

  Evangeline gazed around at the site of her new occupation, and the depression she’d felt since seeing Justice lifted. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on those books. Perusing the titles, she pulled a copy of Pride and Prejudice from one box.

  “Remember those summer nights when we stayed up late reading this to each other?” What romantic girls they’d been. At least Susanna had found her Mr. Darcy.

  “I do.” Susanna smiled like a proud mother. “Isn’t this a lovely room? The men managed to get the walls painted and the shelves stained before roundup began, but we ladies have been busy with putting up our gardens, so we haven’t had time to make curtains for the windows.” She tapped one cheek thoughtfully. “I planned to sew them, but since you and I need to make clothes and you’ll also be working here, I should hire Mrs. Starling. She’s a sweet widow lady with four children, so it’s good to send work her way when we can.”

  Evangeline gave her cousin a wry smile. “You’re good at helping widows.”

  Susanna blinked, then hurried over to give Evangeline a hug. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you miss Lucius terribly.” She waited expectantly for an answer.

  The urge to tell the truth about her horrible marriage nearly overwhelmed Evangeline. But she merely sighed wistfully, hoping Susanna would take it for agreement.

  “Well.” Quickly changing her mood, Susanna released her and posted fists on her hips. “There’s a great deal to be done here, but for now, I think we should return home and start our sewing.”

  Soon on their way, they fell into the girlish chatter of their childhood. Only this time, instead of romantic dreams, they shared the joys and difficulties of motherhood.

  The sound of hoofbeats rapidly approaching from behind put a stop to their conversation. While Susanna reined the buggy closer to the side of the road, Evangeline looked over her shoulder.

  Justice. Was he pursuing them? His tall, dapple-gray horse moved nearer, but at least he was now cantering rather than galloping as though chasing a criminal.

  He pulled up beside them and slowed to match the moderate trot of the buggy horse. “Good morning, ladies.” He tipped his hat.

  “Hey, there, Sheriff.” Susanna smiled brightly at him. “Didn’t we see you a while ago? Don’t tell me you just happened to be out for a ride.” She turned to wink at Evangeline. “Why, I do believe you’re following us.”

  Heat rushed to Evangeline’s face. She should have warned her cousin not to try matchmaking her with the sheriff.

  “Not at all, ma’am.” Justice still hadn’t looked directly at Evangeline. “I’m headed out to the various ranches down this way to see if I can find out who shot up the mercantile.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.” Susanna laughed as though she didn’t believe him. “Well, carry on, then. And if you’re hungry in an hour or so, stop by our place for dinner.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll see what happens.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Ladies.” He kicked his horse into a gallop and soon became a speck in the distance.

  Evangeline exhaled so forcefully, she nearly tumbled from the buggy in relief.

  Misunderstanding, Susanna laughed. “Oh, my dear, do I have plans for you.”

  * * *

  Justice’s stomach was already growling because he’d missed breakfast, so the mention of dinner ignited his appetite. But the last thing he planned to do was accept Susanna’s invitation, especially after seeing the look of horror on Evangeline’s face. His presence must be distasteful to her. Too bad, since they’d have to work together starting on Monday. She might even have to put up with him for a few minutes when he stopped by Nate’s house to ask about his temporary cowhands. He’d stop there last, and maybe they’d be finished eating. But otherwise, he’d stay as far away from her as possible.

  He checked at the first ranch and learned from George Eberly that all of his seasonal cowhands were reliable men not given to troublemaking. Less than a mile down the road, he came to the main property of Four Stones Ranch. Foreman Seamus O’Brien, who’d been shot by outlaws a few years before and never recovered enough to participate in the roundups, told Justice he’d have to check with Nate to be sure about a few of the new men.

  This warranted a quick change of plans. If he hurried, Justice could ride to the smaller house and speak to Nate before the ladies reached home. As tempted as he was to bypass the place, he needed to do his duty. He spurred Thunder to a gallop and raced over the fields instead of wasting time by going back to the main road. He rode into the small barnyard behind the house and heard unmistakable sounds of a ruckus coming from inside the barn.

  He dismounted and unbuttoned the strap securing his gun to its holster. Edging up to the partially open door, he peered in. Dismayed but not surprised, he saw Nate hauling Gerard over his shoulder toward a stall, where he set the struggling, hollering boy down with a thump.

  Towering over the youngster, Nate fisted his hands at his waist. “Now you stay in here and don’t move.”

  The boy crossed his arms over his small chest and said, “Make me,” as he had at the restaurant the day before.

  “Need some help?” Justice stepped inside and towered over Gerard from the other side. Poor Evangeline, having to deal with a son who seemed determined to cause trouble. The boy needed a man’s strong hand to guide him.

  “Hello, Sheriff.” Nate used his title, probably to intimidate Gerard.

  While it wasn’t the way Justice preferred to interact with children, in this case it was probably best.

  “Howdy, Nate.”

  “Tell me, Sheriff, how do you deal with a boy who chases milk cows out of their stalls and shoots barn cats wit
h a slingshot?” As he talked to Justice, he watched Gerard, whose eyes darted from one man to the other and back again. Still, his defiant expression remained unchanged.

  “Well, Nate.” Justice scratched the back of his head, causing his Stetson to tilt forward. “My father used to tan my hide when I did anything that rotten.” It happened only once, which was enough for Justice to mend his ways. But then, his godly father had been easy to obey. Lucius might not have disciplined his son.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me.” Nate reached out, but Gerard ducked into a corner of the stall.

  Justice managed to grab his shoulder. “You ever had your hide tanned, son?”

  “I’m not your son,” the boy screamed while trying to twist away.

  “What’s going on here?” Evangeline stood in the barn doorway, her face pale.

  Gerard broke away, rushed to her and threw his arms around her waist. “Mother, save me. They’re gonna kill me.”

  She hugged him close and glared at Justice, then Nate. “I’ll repeat myself. What is going on here?”

  To her credit, while Nate described the boy’s mischief, her face went from angry defender to embarrassed parent.

  “If those cows get scared,” Nate said, “they’ll stop giving milk, which puts us all in a bad spot. And we need those barn cats to keep down the mice population because mice eat the grain that the cows need to eat.”

  “I see.” She brushed a hand down her son’s face. “Now that you understand, will you promise not to do those things again?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gerard said in a sing-song voice. He turned to face Nate and Justice and gave them a triumphant smirk. “May I go play now?”

  “Not right now. First we’ll eat, and then we’ll go over to Marybeth’s to see the new foal. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  A tiny hint of vulnerability streaked across Gerard’s face. “Yes, ma’am.” Something akin to eagerness colored his words.

  “If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen?” Evangeline ushered her son from the barn.