The fine chicken stew—and it was the best she’d had in a long time—sat like lead in Rachel’s stomach as she approached Alex’s rented room. She needed to talk to Zane, and this late Sunday afternoon, before Mrs. Shrankhof returned and while the other boarders dozed, was probably the best time.
She found Zane piling the firewood by the back door to the kitchen. His jacket had been tossed aside and he’d already shoved up his long sleeves. Rachel stopped a moment to watch him wipe his brow. He’d been at this task for a while.
“Mrs. Shrankhof will be impressed,” she said as she approached, keeping her expression calm even while her heart pounded for absolutely no good reason. “You’re leaving a precedence that Alex may not want to live up to.”
Zane kept working. “As long as he’s around to berate me for it,” he answered tersely.
“And you? Does that mean you’ll stay to hear it?”
“I told you. I don’t plan to.”
Disappointment plunged deeper into her chest than she had expected. Surely she wanted him to leave? He’d been a thorn in her side since he’d caught her taking that picture postcard, always ordering her around, always acting like she was the most unwise person in town and, quite frankly, always believing the worst of her.
He’s hurt. He’s lost. Have compassion. She took a step forward. “You’re a good lawman. It’s possible you might find work here.”
“Doing what?” Zane strode back to the messy pile in the center of the backyard and refilled his arms. Mrs. Shrankhof’s hens scattered with disgruntled squawks. “Working for Alex? No, thank you.”
“Why not? Or do you not like taking orders from your brother?”
“It’s got nothing to do with that. I was a sheriff and that ended poorly. What makes you think I would be happier as a deputy? Besides, I don’t want to be hired because I have some influence with the sheriff. I left that kind of corruption behind.” He dumped his armful of firewood down on the running length that was already waist high.
“We’re not corrupt here.”
Although he shot her a skeptical look, he said nothing, rather, he continued piling the wood he’d retrieved.
“All I’m asking is that you not give up fighting for what’s right. It sounded back there at the Turcots like you’ve just given up on life.”
“I haven’t.” Having finished with that armload, he retrieved more firewood. “I’m putting all I have into finding Alex. Unless you don’t think that’s important?”
Her voice went soft. “That’s not fair. Finding Alex is the most important thing right now. It will bring him back and it will lead us to the truth about Rosa.”
“Why do you think she waited so long to deliver a ransom note? Alex had been missing over a week by the time we found Daniel. Why didn’t Rosa deliver the note the next day?”
Rachel lifted her shoulders briefly. “That’s a very good question. Perhaps because Daniel got sick? And before that time, she hadn’t figured out a way to deliver her demand?” Her words held a note of reluctant yielding.
“Perhaps she waited until she thought you were desperate enough to pay handsomely?”
“I don’t believe she’s that cunning, and there was no evidence she ever returned, no hint that she might have kidnapped Alex.”
“What hint would there be?”
“Rosa kept some food hidden in a tin beside her bed. Just some biscuits and such for Daniel mostly. You’d think that keeping both Daniel and Alex, and getting hungry herself, she’d have slipped back to get it. But each time I’ve peeked in her window, hoping to see her back, I’ve noticed that the tin hasn’t moved.”
“Maybe she emptied it.”
“Normal people would just take the whole tin.” Rachel paused. “Has anyone else in town complained that food has disappeared? Have any eggs gone missing? Or hens from henhouses?”
Zane glanced over at Mrs. Shrankhof’s chickens. This time of year, they laid fewer eggs, but his brother’s landlady had not mentioned anything unusual, and he had a feeling the woman would know exactly how many eggs to expect. She probably counted the chickens each night. He hadn’t heard any complaints from other townsfolk, either.
“She could be getting food from Castle Rock.”
“I’ve peeked in the window several times. Nothing in her crib looked disturbed,” Rachel said. “It seems an odd way to kidnap someone. I don’t believe she had planned to do so with Alex.”
“Which means she could be working with someone and they changed the plan.”
“Which was what?” Rachel sighed and stepped into the weak sunlight in hopes of warming herself. “And how did she avoid drawing attention to herself? In that time, she had to keep Daniel quiet and unnoticed.”
Zane met her gaze. “I’m afraid that a small urchin like Daniel could blend in just about anywhere. There are plenty of them around and some are employed because they go unnoticed and uncared-for. Think of those who pick pockets, for instance.”
Rachel shut her eyes. “I can’t even think about how that could be Daniel in a few years. Poor mite.”
Zane studied her. “Pastor Wyseman said you’ve changed.”
The odd switch in subject caught her off guard. She bristled. “Changed what?”
He walked over to the long length and threw down the armful of wood. “Don’t be defensive. I’m talking about your demeanor. He said you had a strong personality, but it’s changed since Rosa disappeared.”
“He’s mistaken. I’m just as opinionated as ever.”
Zane’s brows shot up in a knowing manner. “He’s very perceptive. He knew right away I wasn’t Alex.”
“Really?” Rachel hadn’t thought that Pastor Wyseman knew Alex that well.
Zane lifted one corner of his mouth. “Imagine that. Pastor Wyseman is as smart as you.”
Rachel’s lips thinned, but she chose not to speak. Still, her stomach tightened. Yes, she had changed, and it wasn’t for the better. And seeing Rosa last night honestly hurt her. Why would the woman leave without saying goodbye? Had she changed her mind about helping Rachel with her ministry and couldn’t tell her to her face?
What if she had moved her trade to another town, like Castle Rock, and had kidnapped Alex down there when he had finally found her?
Rachel stiffened. She shouldn’t allow herself to get bogged down like a carriage wheel in a rut. The other women needed her as much as ever to help them.
Zane slipped closer to her. “I’m just saying you need to be careful, Rachel.”
She smiled, trying her best to push the worry behind her. “Where’s the fun in being careful?”
He didn’t share her attempt at humor. “Is it fun to risk your ministry work by being alone with a lawman?”
Smile dropping, she hastily glanced around, but the tiny backyard was fenced in on two sides. The front was shielded by the kitchen annex, and Alex’s room filled in the remaining side. No one from the street could see in, and no one in the kitchen was peering out the solitary window, either. She turned back to Zane. Her reputation was safe for the moment. “I came to ask you not to give up.”
“And who are you to give advice?”
The walls around them weren’t the only walls she was up against. “I’m someone who works in a ministry that would have any normal person flee like a little girl seeing a spider. You don’t get anywhere in your life if you give up when things get tough.”
“Then how do you keep going?” He peered intently at her. “What gets you up in the morning, Rachel?”
She refused to admit her stamina was fading. “Nothing. I wait until the afternoon, usually.”
Zane didn’t seem impressed with her humor. “You don’t get far in life being insolent, either.”
“Look, Zane, if you want something, you have to work for it, plain and simple. I want those women to learn to trust God and let go of a profession that will surely drain away their spirit and might even kill them. I’ve seen it happen twice. That’s what gets me out of bed each day. I know that I need to work at my ministry if I want it to succeed. I know I have days where it seems like nothing good happens, but God gives me strength, and on those days when He seems to be looking the other way, I get strength from knowing that in the past, God carried me through, and He will do so again when it gets bad.”
Her words surprised even her. But she beamed inwardly. Yes, she’d managed to encapsulate exactly how she felt.
“Maybe I don’t want anything that badly,” he said with a shrug as he returned to the messy pile of wood, “outside of finding Alex, that is.”
“And your honor?”
“I guess I don’t want it badly enough, either.”
“I don’t believe that.”
He walked over to her and touched her chin. His fingers were warm, a striking contrast to the cold air that moved briskly over her face. “It won’t do me any good,” he whispered softly. “God can’t control those who framed me.”
“God is in control of everything.”
“Then I guess He doesn’t want to bless me.” Hurt dashed over his face. “Maybe I’m still paying for that reckless youth.”
What could she say? She’d seen women who lived reckless lives remain unblessed. Here in Proud Bend, the soiled doves scraped by. Barely, bitterly.
But they didn’t all have misspent youths. Bea was a shining example of how horrible a woman’s circumstances could become through no fault of her own.
“We’re made new creations in God,” she answered quietly. Was she becoming that? How could losing her drive make her a new creation?
He dropped his hand. “Yes, we’re made white as snow. I was there for that Sunday-school message. But that doesn’t mean the consequences of our actions don’t catch up with us. They caught up with you that night of the assault because you felt, incorrectly, I might add, that you could solve those women’s troubles with money.”
“I know. I just feel...”
“Guilty? Don’t. Others choose their own paths for their lives. You didn’t force them to do anything.”
“That’s the problem. I should have forced Bea to take a loan. Forcing her might have saved her life.”
“Be careful it’s not pride speaking.”
Was Zane talking about himself or her? She stepped back, watching him load up his arms with more wood. “And Liza? If I had insisted that she avoid the person she felt had assaulted me, she might still be alive. I didn’t do enough.”
“She died only two days after you were attacked. You were still recuperating.”
“I should have been stronger.”
Zane dumped the split wood down, his expression fierce. “That guilt will eat at you, Rachel. I’ve told you that before. Why can’t you believe me?”
“Why can’t you believe me when I say that I didn’t orchestrate the assault on me?” She paused before her voice turned soft. “It’s hard to trust, especially when you’ve been hurt. But if you won’t trust me, try trusting God.”
Zane glanced away. “It’s just my own suspicious nature that’s saying that you might have had a hand in your own assault. There aren’t too many people like you in this world.”
“For which I’m sure you’re grateful.”
Despite everything, he chuckled at her sarcasm. After a heavy pause, as his smile fell away, he added, “Trust doesn’t come easy to me. I left my job in disgrace all because I had trusted those people I worked with, the ones who betrayed me.”
“Why didn’t you stay and fight?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not a gambler. Maybe I couldn’t. It didn’t matter. That same day, Deputy Wilson’s telegram arrived and I took it as a sign that it was time to move on. It was all that corruption that made me unable to accept that someone can actually care.”
“You would have come here anyway, as soon as you learned Alex was missing.” She cocked her head. “Do you feel guilty he is missing, possibly...in danger?”
“Or do you mean dead? You may as well say it.” Zane’s mouth took on a grim edge. “Yes. Alex has always protected me. Or at least tried.” He paused. “Once, when we were about fourteen, I got into some mischief that I am thoroughly ashamed of, and Alex took the blame for it. He said he was the one who did it.”
“That was very noble. He must really love you.”
Zane rolled his eyes. “As noble as it might be, it wasn’t smart. When our parents learned what had happened, we were both disciplined.”
“Why?”
“Our mother wasn’t so easily fooled. Yes, we’d even changed clothing to complete the ruse, but she could always tell us apart and knew as soon as we walked in the door that Alex had lied when he’d taken the blame. In fact, she’d heard about the misdeed an hour before we arrived home. Then I tried to tell her that I had bullied Alex into accepting responsibility, but she saw through that lie, as well.”
“Oh, dear.”
“The point is that Alex has always looked out for me. That wasn’t the only scrape he’s pulled me from. I owe him. Without him, I would have gone down the wrong path in my life and who knows where I would have ended up.”
“So why are you insisting that I’m wrong to feel guilty when you’re letting it rule your life?”
“Because those you feel guilty about don’t care. Alex cares for me.”
She folded her arms. “A flimsy excuse.”
“Like yours is for coming here?”
“What do you mean?”
He tipped his head and walked closer to her. She refused to back away and thus show him how much he intimidated her. She could see beads of sweat on his brow, unexpected considering the chilly and dry air. He really had been working hard here. “I thought that you wanted to keep your distance from any lawman so that those soiled doves could finally learn to trust you.”
Oh, that.
“You’ve come up with a cheap excuse to see me. Last night at White Horse Bluff was another cheap excuse.”
Her cheeks hot, Rachel arched her brows. “Aren’t you full of yourself? I went out to the bluff to pay the ransom in the hope that I could end this nightmare. I came here today to tell you not to give up.”
To prove her point, she dared to take a step toward him. He didn’t move. The air stilled around them, and even the hens in the far corner, those scratching at the dry end to the season’s kitchen garden, eased off on their soft clucking. She and Zane stared each other down.
“Do you want me to stay in town after we get Alex back, Rachel?”
Her heart pounded in her throat. Did she? Her ministry would prove to be all the harder then. He wasn’t like Alex, who understood and kept his distance. Zane seemed to be everywhere she was, stirring up defensive emotions with every encounter.
No, Zane could not be a part of her life.
And with his ideas about corruption, especially among the wealthy, he made it doubly difficult. Did Zane see that same thing in her? Tears filled her eyes.
“Well, Rachel?” Zane asked, his voice still low as he interrupted her thoughts. “You just keep staring at me. Can I assume you want me to stay?”
She snapped out of her reverie and pulled in a sharp breath. She wasn’t going to waste her own strength fighting Zane. Like him, she only had enough to find Alex and return to her ministry.
“I merely wanted you to know,” she answered tightly, “that if something is worth having, you should fight for it. And a person’s honor is always worth fighting for.”
* * *
“Not my honor,” Zane gritted out, hearing the bite in his words.
“You’re arrogant.”
Zane stepped back, smarting from her words for some odd reason. “Once Alex is back, I’m gone.”
Then, maybe to soothe the sting, he took another step toward her. He didn’t want to end the conversation with harsh words between them. On the Lord’s day, of all days, he just wanted a rest from the distrust and tension. An insane thought popped into his head. It would be nice to court her for one evening. To be normal for one day, and able to reflect on that memory as he wandered the West for the remainder of his life. “Perhaps before I leave, you would allow me the honor of an evening with you? Maybe it would give me the honor you think I need.”
“Do you think honor comes from courting?”
“No. It comes from doing something on principle alone.” He shrugged and stepped back. “But you’re right. It isn’t deferrable. I beg your pardon, Rachel. It was rude of me to proposition you.”
Rachel’s cheeks flooded with color and he noticed again how she pulled herself together. Those hands, still chapped and rough, smoothed down her skirt before lying neatly folded in front. Her shoulders back, her posture stiff, she looked like she was posing for a fine portrait, motionless for the few minutes needed to secure a good exposure.
“Perhaps I’m like you in that there is not enough fight in me except to find Alex and continue my ministry. My concern is how they spend their evenings—and, indeed, the rest of their time—not how I spend mine.”
Zane frowned. “What do you mean? How do they spend their time outside of their evenings?”
“Secluded away as if they carry the plague,” Rachel said, her distaste at the idea clear. “The sheriff before Alex kept those women outside of the town, allowing them to shop for necessities only during specific hours. He often had them arrested for vagrancy and petty theft regardless of whether or not they were guilty. The sheriff before him was the exact opposite. He wanted his share of the profits, so you can see why they are mistrustful of authority.”
“And Alex? How does he see them?”
“With civility.”
“Then we need to continue to show them their new sheriff can be trusted.” He paused. “I have an idea.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“I have to escort you to the bank in the morning. And since I have read over the files yet again and interviewed Mrs. Turcot, the only other lead I have to follow is the ransom note. The postcard it was written on is the same type as the one Alex used to write your name. Alex got that one at the saloon. Would you like to come with me as I interview the bartender? I plan to do that after we visit the bank.”
“How will that instill trust with anyone?”
“I’ll be searching for Rosa. She’s still a missing person, and if I show that I’m looking for her and concerned for her safety, it may go a long way to helping repair the soiled doves’ trust in the law.”
“How will they know what you’ve said to the bartender?”
Zane folded his arms. “What I say and do will get around.”
Pleased she was actually considering his request, Zane returned to the pile of firewood. He needed to keep his hands busy. A few minutes ago, he’d touched Rachel’s chin and had been sorely tempted to take the liberty of brushing his fingers against her cheek. Or even stealing a kiss.
It wouldn’t do either of them any good. She was devoted to her ministry and convinced any relationship with a lawman was detrimental to it. She’d shown no signs of interest in his suggestion of courting.
Rachel nodded slowly. “Fine, I’ll go with you. Perhaps an extra set of ears and eyes may help. I’ll be at your office at ten tomorrow morning.”
He nodded, busying himself with the wood. There was a long pause before he heard her leave.
The yard became too quiet and empty afterward.