12

Heath went for the sheriff. When Joe Dunn came, he was solemn to the point of tears at what had happened to Maria. And he had no idea what Maria might have meant by “Viva México,” or if she might have been talking about Juarez.

“Doesn’t seem to be any trouble at the moment between America and Mexico, none I’ve noticed here in town anyway. How can there be a revolution when the two peoples are getting along fine?”

Justin said, “But are there folks willing to kill to stir up trouble with the goal of starting a revolution?”

Sister Margaret brought a blanket over, which they used to cover Maria’s body. Justin carried her to the town’s undertaker. He’d just been there earlier today with Dantalion’s body. He wasn’t pleased to be such a regular customer.

Justin and Heath told the sheriff all that had happened. When the sheriff ran out of questions, Justin said, “Time to head home.”

Heath nodded without replying. They left the jail, and after a few quiet paces he reached up and patted Justin’s shoulder. “I feel terrible about Maria. I feel like the worst kind of sinner to be glad none of those bullets hit you.”

Justin remembered the way Heath had come charging around the orphanage building, gun blazing. “I don’t think he’d’ve quit shooting if not for you, Heath. He only broke off when you opened fire. You saved my life.”

Heath nodded. “You Bodens really can’t write a list long enough to give me credit for all I’ve done for you.”

That quirked a smile out of Justin, one quickly suppressed.

Then Heath said somberly, “Rosita said something about . . .” He rubbed his head as if trying to shake loose the memory. Heath looked worn clean out, and Justin had to admit he felt the same. He realized they hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it would be dinnertime when they got home.

“About what?” They reached the orphanage, where their horses stood tied to the hitching post. The critters hadn’t eaten since breakfast either. Mounting up, Justin noticed two large bowls on the ground in front of the horses. A few grains of oats remained.

Margaret had seen to their horses, God bless her.

“I’m trying to remember . . .” Finally Heath gave up and shrugged. “I can’t say her words exactly, but the impression I got was that under the peaceful surface, many people—or maybe just a few—want this land back as part of Mexico.”

Justin tried to remember as well, not sure he’d even been there when Heath heard Rosita’s opinion. “We’ll ask her about it when we get home. And see if she knows what tener cuidado means. And we’ll see if she actually knows any people with those attitudes.” Justin thought of his questioning Miss Maria and what it had led to. He’d stop kicking up questions if he wasn’t fighting for his family’s life.

Heath nodded. “Let’s get home. I don’t like that we’ve been gone for so long. And I don’t want to be on the trail after dark. Keep your eyes and ears and nose open. And keep low. No sense making a good target for anyone.”

They set a quick pace. They’d made it about halfway home, when Heath said, “Mel headed out this morning and is back working at the orphanage. It’s time to send Angie home—you know that, right? Cole doesn’t need anyone sitting with him anymore. He mightn’t be at full strength, but no one needs to watch over him. We know for a fact the orphanage isn’t safe, either.”

Justin had an image bright in his head of Angie at the orphanage, bullets flying, her dying under the gun of a dry-gulcher. He should keep her at the CR. He frowned at Heath, who grinned back at him.

“And one of the two women leaving is making you upset. I wonder which one?”

Justin wasn’t about to admit that Mel hadn’t even occurred to him. It was that delicate, sweet, beautiful, citified Angie who was in his thoughts. Which was stupid because Mel was one of the finest women he knew, and she’d make the perfect rancher’s wife, while everything about Angie told Justin she’d be better off back in a city. She looked like she belonged in refined clothes with an equally refined husband. And Justin wasn’t that. In fact, she’d be a perfect wife for Cole. And just thinking that made something burn in his gut that he’d never felt before.

Jealousy.

Justin didn’t want to think about it. “Just keep up. See if you can get some speed out of that puny horse of yours.”

Of course, Heath’s buckskin was one of the prettiest critters Justin had ever seen. Big, strong, well-trained, and quick as lightning. But needling Heath was a good way to end this conversation.

“See if you can stay with me, Boden.” Heath kicked his horse gently, mainly controlling the animal using his hands and pressure from his thighs. He surged ahead, but Justin was riding his pa’s fast bay, so there was no being left behind. His mount was a near-perfect horse, and one that loved a challenge.

Yet their galloping had more to do with getting home than winning a race.

“Cole, couldn’t you please stay in bed for just a couple more days?” Angie didn’t try to get bossy. She’d seen how Cole reacted to that with Mel, Sadie, and Justin. He just did exactly the opposite of what he got ordered to do.

Cole came up to Angie, frowning. “Haven’t Justin and Heath come home yet?”

Angie had to swallow hard to clear her throat enough to talk. “No, and I didn’t expect them to be gone so long.”

“Is supper ready?”

“Yes. I was just coming in to ask if you’re ready for me to bring in a plate.”

“I’ll eat at the table. I managed breakfast. I’m about half out of my mind from lying around. Surely sitting in a chair won’t harm me.”

Angie didn’t see herself winning any arguments with Cole, a man who clearly had a will stronger than her own. “Come on out. Mel’s gone home.”

Cole frowned over that, too, and Angie imagined he was remembering their earlier fight.

“Sadie and Rosita are putting food on the table right now. A chair won’t hurt you one bit.”

With a nod of satisfaction, Cole rested his hand on her back to urge her out of the room. They walked into the kitchen. Sadie had made a plate up for Cole, and while she arched a brow in displeasure, she didn’t nag. She sat the plate down and grabbed a platter of fried chicken and another of Rosita’s wonderful biscuits as Cole settled in at the head of the table. Sadie sat down just around the corner from Cole on his right. Angie sat around the corner from him on his left. He wondered if they planned to cut his food for him. Maybe spoon-feed him?

Rosita came and sat beside Angie. He enjoyed female attention to a point, but he was long past that point right now.

The sun was low in the sky, and Sadie looked out the kitchen window compulsively.

Then her tense shoulders relaxed. “Here they come. What could have taken them all day?”

Cole heaved a sigh of relief just as Angie did. All three of them smiled at their matching sounds. Rosita stood and made short work of putting a plate at the other end of the table, another one beside Sadie.

They were just in place when the back door swung open. Justin came in first, inhaled, and said, “Rosita’s fried chicken. That’s the best welcome—”

“Justin, what happened?” Angie stood so quickly her chair slid backward and tipped over. “You’re coated in blood.”

His lighthearted greeting faded. He looked down at himself. “I’ve got to go and change.” He left the room, and his footsteps could be heard pounding up the stairs to the second floor.

Heath went straight to the basin to wash up. He wasn’t nearly as bloody, though there was a splatter here and there. He moved to the table and sank down beside Sadie as if he had little strength left.

“I hate to say this . . .” Looking grim, his eyes slid from Cole to Rosita, then to his wife. “Miss Maria is dead.”

Sadie grabbed his arm. “Not Maria.” Her voice broke as she went on. “No, please . . . not that. Not one of the ladies from Safe Haven.”

“We think the gunman was shooting at Justin. The first shot was closer to him and barely missed him. Then there was more gunfire, and three bullets hit Maria. She ended up saving Justin’s life.” He reached for a chicken leg, but his arm dropped back. His expression said the thought of food wasn’t welcome now.

Those at the table sat there stunned. Angie too, even though she hadn’t known Miss Maria long. And what she knew of her was sad. Maria spent every free moment closed in her bedroom. She wasn’t one to talk much or welcome anyone. She was given to melancholy and long prayers, all done on her knees, her face nearly to the floor as if begging for forgiveness.

The children lifted her spirits, and Angie could tell she loved them. But it had worried Angie that the children were under pressure to cheer up their teacher every day. That seemed the opposite of how it should be. Orphans should be surrounded by people who were aware of their hardships and who did their best not to burden them further.

But Angie knew that Sister Margaret and Sister Louise had loved their downcast friend, and they’d done their best, as had the children, to keep her spirits up. They would be heartbroken. She noticed tears sliding silently down Sadie’s face. Heath wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

Just then, Justin came back into the room. As he settled at the table, Angie had one more thing to say. “What a noble way to die. Maria gave her life for a friend—there’s no greater love. God is gathering her into His arms right now. I know she was a woman of faith. She is happier now than she’s ever been, secure at the feet of Jesus.”

That brought everyone’s head up, including Justin’s. Angie saw everyone’s eyes brighten and their shoulders square. Sadie dabbed her handkerchief at her eyes. Heath reached for the chicken.

Quietly, Justin said, “Thank you, Angie. It was a terrible thing to have her die in my arms, to die in my place. I feel so ashamed—I should have moved faster. I should have protected her.” He closed his eyes for a long moment, then opened them and lifted his chin. “But you’re right. For someone to give so sacrificially, we need to respect that she died that way. I needed to hear that because I hadn’t gotten there in my thoughts yet. I hope I would have on my own, but I’ll do it sooner because of you.”

Rosita said, “Let’s all take a moment to give thanks to God that He sent Miss Maria into our lives. And pray for her happiness as she goes to a better place.”

When they went back to eating, Justin told them what had happened. He included that Heath had driven the gunman off before a bullet could find Justin. They spoke of the sheriff and Sister Margaret’s grief.

“I have to go back. They were already shorthanded.” Angie gave Cole a wry smile. “And you are well—not full strength, but in good shape. You no longer need someone sitting with you at all times.”

“I don’t know, Angie.” Justin stopped eating his chicken, held in two hands. His eyes were shadowed with worry. “The orphanage is where this shooting occurred.”

“But weren’t there bullets fired out here, too?” Angie reminded him. “Where in the entire West can a person be ensured of complete safety? Where in the whole world?”

Justin got a stubborn look that usually foretold of an argument and orders being issued.

She held up the flat of her hand. “I thank you for thinking of my safety. I plan to tell Sister Margaret that we all should stay inside or maybe play outside the front door rather than the back. It’s cold out and we have a lot of plans for Christmas next week, so I don’t think the children will mind. I’m sure she’s thought of many precautions already. But I have to go back. Two elderly nuns can’t run the orphanage themselves. And I won’t protect myself while the children go without care and my beloved aunt is overwhelmed by work. If they’re in danger, it makes me a coward to stay away when they can’t leave.”

The silence at the table seemed to have weight.

Finally, Justin nodded. “We’ve lost the light. It would be best if you could wait until tomorrow to go. You’ll be escorted on the trail to town.”

“Thank you. I will go back in the morning.” Angie smiled through her sadness. She had enjoyed her time here, watching this family love each other, even when they squabbled. All the more reason she needed to get back to town and help her aunt, her only remaining family.

She rose to begin gathering the dirty dishes, then stopped and looked at everyone. “As dangerous as it is here in the West, it’s the best place I’ve ever lived. I love it here.”

She turned quickly, afraid of what she might see in their eyes. The best she could hope for was pity.