Despite only a few hour’s sleep, Luke felt better than he’d ever felt in his life. He’d lain awake for hours last night, marveling over the facts Case had shared from his Bible. God loved him.
Deborah had told him before that God looked after widows and orphans, but it was hearing about God’s Son, Jesus, that revealed the depth of God’s love.
God loved Luke enough that He’d give up His own Son’s life to win Luke to Himself. Amazing.
Not only did God love him, but He wanted to call Luke His child. The deepest desire of Luke’s heart, the yearning he dared not speak aloud, was to belong to someone. He’d wanted to be not an embarrassing product of a night’s passion, but an acknowledged member of the family.
And all this time, God had wanted to call Luke His son.
Luke shifted the weight of the bundle of chopped wood to his left arm so he might open the back door with his right. The mouthwatering smell of freshly baked biscuits and fried ham wafted out to meet him. He stepped inside, pushed the door closed behind him with his booted foot, and started down the hall when Case rounded the corner and barreled into him.
“Whoa there,” Luke said, lifting the bundle high so Case wouldn’t plow face-first into the wood. “What’s the hurry?”
“We’re going into town, Luke,” Case managed between gasps. “Debs said so. Said she needs to do some shopping on account of my birthday’s coming up.”
“Birthday, huh?”
Case fell into step beside Luke as he carried the wood into the kitchen and deposited it in the woodbin. “Yup. April 30. I’ll be eight years old.”
“You’ll be an old man for sure.”
“We’re going to leave as soon as breakfast’s over and the team is hitched up. You’ll come, won’t you?”
Even though things were going pretty well, he wasn’t going to take any chances of provoking Deborah’s ire by inviting himself where he wasn’t wanted. Luke looked over to Deborah, who was standing at the stove, for approval.
She nodded. “We’d like you to join us,” she said with a smile. “That is, if you feel you can get away.”
If she kept smiling at him like that, she’d have a hard time keeping him away. “Got nothing pressing.”
She carried a plate heaped with sliced ham and biscuits to the table. “You all sit down and we’ll eat.”
Breakfast was accomplished in a hurry. While Deborah cleaned up the breakfast dishes, Luke and Case went outside to hitch up the team.
“So what’s a fella turning eight get for his birthday?” Luke asked as they walked across the yard. He needed to be thinking about a present for the kid and didn’t figure his own childhood would provide any clues. As a boy of eight, all Luke had wanted was a full stomach and a warm, safe place to sleep.
Case shrugged. “Usually a shirt or a pair of pants.”
“That right? That’s what you want?”
Case wrinkled his nose. “Naw, but it’s the kind of things girls like to give. Deborah won’t give me what I really want.”
“What’s that?”
Case looked over his shoulder to be certain they wouldn’t be overheard. “Promise you won’t tell?”
Luke tried to match Case’s solemn expression. He held up his right hand and vowed, “I promise.”
Case looked back once again, then leaned in toward Luke to whisper, “I want a ladder.”
“A ladder?”
“Shh!” Case whipped around to be sure his sister wasn’t nearby. “You told me you wouldn’t tell.”
Luke dismissed the suggestion with a careless wave of his hand. “She can’t hear us. She’s in the house. But I don’t understand what in the world you would want with a ladder.”
Case’s green eyes sparkled. “I’d climb to the loft.”
Now Luke began to understand. There was a narrow loft above the “sitting room,” as Deborah liked to call it. One of Luke’s responsibilities since joining Case and his sister had been to help remove the trash from the room opposite the kitchen and make the place habitable. He’d noticed how Case never missed an opportunity to join him in the sitting room, and once there how he was drawn to the rickety ladder leaning against the wall. Case would stand at the bottom and look up longingly at the loft.
Once Luke had asked Case why he didn’t climb up and see what was there, but Case had explained that Deborah had forbidden it. Seemed that a ladder was too risky for a crippled boy.
Since then, Deborah had Luke break up the old relic to use for firewood.
“I’d sleep up there every night,” Case said, his eyes alight with the dream. “It would be my own special place, like a tree house high above the world.”
“It’d be a fine place for an eight-year-old to sleep.”
Reality doused the light in Case’s eyes. “Of course, I always need new pants.”
His heart broken at the child’s resigned acceptance, Luke nodded. “Of course.”
Once the team was harnessed, Luke went in to get Deborah. “Wagon’s ready, ma’am.”
She hurried down the hall toward him, adjusting her hat. “Thank you, Luke.”
He gave her a hand up into the wagon, a less than satisfactory experience since both wore gloves, and climbed up onto the bench beside her. She sent him a smile of thanks that warmed him all the way to his boots.
“You okay back there?” he called over his shoulder to Case, who sat behind them, with his back to the side of the wagon.
“You bet,” Case called back. “Let’s see how fast you can run ’em, Luke.”
Luke darted a sheepish glance at Deborah, who met his look with a suspicious tilt of her brow. Luke decided it was in the best interest of peacekeeping to lead the team out at a sedate pace.
Spring was in full bloom in Texas. An ever-present breeze stirred the lush green grasses, giving them the rolling appearance of waves on the sea. Bright clusters of flowers—red clovers, coral Indian paintbrushes, and indigo bluebonnets—grew in colorful abundance. For a time the occupants of the wagon rode in silence, content to bask in the wide-open beauty.
“I suppose I ought to consider purchasing horses,” Deborah said as they rattled along the dirt road. “Oxen don’t make a very handsome team.”
“And horses are much faster,” Case piped up from the back.
“Thank you, Case,” Deborah said repressively. “Luke, what do you think? Should I look into getting a pair of horses? I have some money set aside. Would they be a worthwhile investment or an expensive extravagance?”
“Want my honest opinion?”
“Yes.”
“Horses are useful. And the boy”—Luke indicated Case with a jerk of his thumb—“ought to have one of his own. Man’s gotta know how to ride and care for a horse.”
Case was on his knees behind them. “Oh Debs, I’d love a horse.”
Deborah toyed with her reticule as she digested the information. “As to the cost? What would—”
A wonderful idea occurred to Luke. Here was his opportunity to repay some of what Deborah and her brother had given him. It was a rare experience, a heady feeling, to be on equal footing with her. In this he wasn’t a hired man. He wasn’t a student. He was an equal. “I can get a couple of beauties for you, for free.”
“We can afford free, Debs,” Case said.
Deborah folded her arms across her chest and sat up even straighter. “Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. I’m sorry I brought the matter up.”
“What—?”
She met his bewildered look with an angry one. “I cannot abide horse thieves.”
“Horse thieves?” he repeated with a dangerous edge to his voice. “You thought I was going to steal the horses for you?”
Her eyes widened at his ominous dark glare, but she proceeded, “Well, yes, I did. What else am I to think? You have your own horse, but to acquire others at no cost—”
“I have several horses,” he said coolly. “Horses gained through honest means. I am not a thief.”
“No indeed,” Case chirped from the back. “What a silly thing to say, Debs. There isn’t a finer man than our Luke anywhere.” He punctuated his statement with a pat on Luke’s back. “You should know that.”
“I’m sorry—”
He knew she was looking at him, but he refused to take his eyes from the road. “When we get to town, I’ll send word for two horses to be delivered.”
“We couldn’t accept such a costly gift.”
“Consider them payment for my education.” Luke spoke with such chilling finality he knew no one would challenge him.
No one spoke at all.
The celebratory air with which they’d begun the excursion disappeared like a vapor. They rode along in uncomfortable silence with only the jangling of harnesses and the rattling of the wagon to disturb the quiet.
Luke was furious. And hurt. He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. It wasn’t the first time somebody had mistaken him for a criminal, and it wouldn’t be the last.
But it did matter. Other folks took one look at his bronze skin and coal-black hair and thought the worst. He was used to that. But to have been around Deborah all this time and realize she’d never looked beyond the surface, to the man within, cut deeply.
He’d been a fool to believe things were different with Deborah. To let a few warm looks and some hand-holding convince him that she saw him as something more than an ignorant half-breed.
As bad as he was feeling, he felt a hundred times worse to know he’d ruined the kid’s trip into town. Instead of his usual nonstop flow of excited chatter, Case was shut up tight. Probably afraid to say anything for fear of setting Luke off.
He’d never hurt the boy. A man couldn’t ask for a finer champion. The darkness that had settled over him lifted with the memory of Case’s little hand patting him while he defended Luke to his sister. “Couldn’t find a finer man,” he’d said.
“You still back there?” Luke called over his shoulder.
“Yes, sir.”
“Whew. I’m glad to hear it. It was so quiet I was beginning to think a big old crow swooped down and carried you off.”
The sound of Case’s giggling warmed Luke. “There’s a flock of hungry-looking birds in that stand of trees up ahead.” He pointed to a pecan grove on the right. “Seems to me that you’d better look lively lest they mistake you for lunch.”
Case was back on his knees, looking off in the direction of Luke’s gloved finger. “Do you really think so?” he asked in obvious delight at the gruesome prospect.
Luke chuckled.
“Think maybe if I sing it’ll warn them off?”
“Seems reasonable.”
Case sat back against the wagon wall and began to sing. In the pure, clear tones of a child he sang songs about God’s love and faithfulness, songs they’d sung after Deb’s Bible reading in the evening. Pretty soon Deborah joined in, adding her voice in perfect harmony. The combination of the heavenly sounds and heart-stirring words raised gooseflesh on Luke’s arms. Funny how even songs about God had the power to speak to the hunger in his soul.
The last half hour of the trip passed quickly. Case and Deborah sang. Between songs Case exclaimed over the flowers and birds and everything else they passed along the way.
By the time Luke had slowed the team in front of the general store, he’d almost forgotten Deborah’s unflattering accusations. Almost.
“Whoa.” He pulled back on the reins then looked to Deborah for instructions.
“Case, dearest, why don’t you run inside and see if the shopkeeper has any penny candy.” She pulled a coin from her reticule and pressed it into his hand.
Case looked confused. “Aren’t you two coming?”
“Yes, in just a minute. Luke and I have something to discuss first.”
Case shot Luke a pitying glance. “Are you sure you don’t want to come on with me?”
“In a minute. You run along.”
Luke hopped down from the wagon to lift Case out. As he did, Case whispered, “Think she means to yell at you? Would you rather I stay?”
Luke grinned as he gently lowered the boy to the ground and waited for him to gain his balance before releasing him. “You go ahead,” he whispered back. “I can handle your sister.”
Case didn’t look convinced. “Don’t let her send you away. Remind her she promised you could stay.”
Luke ruffled his hair. “I’ll remind her.”
Case stepped up onto the grayed plank sidewalk and limped up to the store, stopping several times to send an unhappy look to Luke over his shoulder before entering.
Luke walked back around to the front of the wagon and climbed onto the bench. “What is it you want to discuss?”
She kept her eyes downcast, trained on her hands folded in her lap. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.”
She raised her eyes to his. “I can’t. I spoke without thinking earlier—”
“It’s nothing.”
Deborah refused to be deterred. “—and I hurt you.”
This time it was Luke who looked away.
“I’m truly sorry, Luke. Case was right to scold me. I know better than to think you’re a thief.”
She reached over to lay her small, gloved hand on his. When he looked up she said, “I haven’t known you long, but I am certain that I’ve never met a more honorable man than you. You are kind, hardworking, gentle, and intelligent, and Case and I are blessed to call you our friend.”
As if that wasn’t enough to send his senses reeling, Deborah leaned up and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before scrambling down off the bench in a flurry of skirts. Once on the ground, she raised her face to his, her smooth skin flaming beneath her bonnet, and said primly, “Meet us in the store after you’ve completed your business.” With that she turned and darted up into the store.
For a long moment Luke stared after her in mute amazement. A man didn’t usually have that many nice things said over him when he was laid to rest. To have heard all that, and get kissed, and still be alive to enjoy it was just about more than he could stand.
Finally he hopped off the bench, secured the team, and headed down the dirt street with the swagger of a man with the world in his pocket. It was an unusual feeling to be appreciated, one he wouldn’t mind getting used to.
Luke strode past the livery and the blacksmith, past the saloon, to the sturdy stone office at the end of the street that served as bank and post office. He had his hand on the doorknob and was about to step inside when a man standing by the door of the jail across the street caught his eye.
Luke’s hand fell away from the door as he turned around for a closer look. “Adam?”
The man at the jail lifted his head and looked over toward Luke.
Luke stepped down off the sidewalk and started across the street. “Adam Waldrip?” he called, louder this time.
This time the man took a step forward. “Luke? Is that you?”
Both men hurried now, meeting in the middle of the road.
“Luke!” A wide grin split Adam’s face as he clapped a hand on Luke’s back. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. How long has it been?”
Luke smiled back at the one man besides Cyrus he called friend. “Long time, Adam. Too long.”
Adam stepped back to study Luke. “The years seem to sit awful well on you.” He shook his head with mock dismay. “Must be that savage blood that preserves you so well.”
Luke snorted at the oft-repeated jibe. “Wish I could say the same for you. Cryin’ shame you get uglier every time I see you. It’s a wonder the townsfolk haven’t asked you to wear a feed sack over your head to keep from frightening the children and livestock.”
Easily the best-looking man west of the Mississippi and uncomfortably aware of it, Adam threw back his head and laughed. “I’ve missed you, Luke. Have you got a minute? We’ve got some catching up to do.”
When Adam placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder and steered him back toward the jail, Luke asked, “Where’re we headed?”
Adam nodded toward the jail. “My office.”
“The jail?” Belatedly Luke noticed the star on Adam’s chest. “You’re the law?”
Adam grinned. “Only temporarily.”
“I’ll bet there’s a story that goes along with the badge,” Luke said.
Adam swung open the door and stepped aside for Luke to enter. “You can hear the whole thing over a cup of coffee.”
Luke pulled up a chair and sat down while Adam went to the back to get the coffee.
Adam returned seconds later and handed Luke a cup. “What’re you doing back in Texas? I thought we’d seen the last of you.”
Luke shrugged. It was too difficult to try to explain the longing that drove him here, the void that prevented him from settling down. “Thought I might come back and check on Cyrus.”
“He’s gone, Luke. Got a wild hair to move farther west.”
Luke nodded. “I know.”
“You’ve been out to his place already?”
“Been living there a couple of weeks.”
Adam laughed. “I should have known you were in town when Crandall told me about a tall fellow who appeared out of the shadows like an avenging angel to save him from certain death.”
“You know Crandall?”
“Jed Crandall? Big rancher fella? Sure. I must have run into him just days after you did. He’s the one who talked me into taking this job.” Adam pointed to the badge. “I told him I’d do it until they could find someone else. I’m thinking of settling down here and opening law offices.” Adam suddenly frowned. “If you’ve been out at Cyrus’s place for a couple of weeks, how come I haven’t seen you before?”
“I haven’t been into town. Haven’t had any time. Woman’s been running me pretty hard.”
A predatory gleam lit Adam’s eyes as he moved his chair closer to Luke’s. “A woman, huh? This is getting interesting. What’s a woman doing out at Cyrus’s place? With you?”
“She’s kin. A niece of his.”
“Oh.” Adam’s face fell. “She look like him?”
Luke chuckled. Cyrus was a kind man with a heart as big as Texas, but he was two shades uglier than sin. Deborah was a vision. Still, it might not be a bad thing for Adam to suspect a family resemblance.
Luke had witnessed firsthand Adam’s almost mythical powers over the ladies, and he didn’t want him within fifty yards of Deborah for fear she’d fall under his spell. “Definitely family,” he said with a deliberately misleading nod.
“Too bad. Why are you hanging around?”
“She and her kid brother are all alone out there. I couldn’t very well turn my back on them. Not after all Cyrus did for me.”
“It’s that code of honor of yours,” Adam said with a knowing nod. “Seems it’s always getting you into a mess.” He chuckled. “Of course, I’m grateful you have it. I’d be a dead man if it wasn’t for that sense of honor that makes you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Still, I hate to see you trapped playing nursemaid to some old spinster.”
Luke released the long-suffering sigh of a martyr. “I’ve got to do it.”
Adam wagged his head. “You’re a better man than I. Is there anything I can do to help?”
There was something. It was humiliating to have to ask another man to perform such a simple task, even if the man was his friend. “As a matter of fact, there is. She and her brother need horses. I told her I’d get a couple for them, but I really don’t have time to ride south to get them. I was on my way to the bank to get someone to write a letter to Juan, asking him to send me a pair…”
Adam saved him the embarrassment by suggesting, “Why don’t you let me write the letter? Let me get a pen and paper, and you can tell me what to say.”
It was nearly three-quarters of an hour later when Luke strode up the hard-packed dirt of Main Street toward the general store. Time had gotten away from him as he’d visited with Adam. They’d had over a year of history to catch each other up on.
As he walked, Luke allowed himself the luxury of a daydream. He imagined settling down in one place, with a good woman by his side, a fine boy to raise, and a loyal friend for a neighbor. He was so entrenched in his thoughts he didn’t see the man staggering out of the saloon and into his path until he was nearly on top of him.
Luke’s arm caught the man’s shoulder hard enough to spin him around. Luke tried to catch him, but his reaction was a fraction of a second too late, and the man hit the ground with a thud.
“I’m sorry,” Luke said, bending over him to give him a hand up. “I wasn’t watching.”
The man, pitifully thin and unshaven, squinted up at Luke through the cloud of dust he’d raised when he fell. “An Indian.” He cursed, his speech slurred with liquor. “Shoulda known. Indians think they own the West.” He cursed again.
Luke ignored the insults. “Here,” he said as he reached out his hand, “let me help you up.”
The man spat on the ground. “I’m not touchin’ no filthy Indian.”
The remark was almost funny coming from a man so encrusted with dirt Luke could scarcely tell if he was black or white. “Suit yourself.” He left the man lying there and turned to walk away.
“Wait!” The man labored to his hands and knees, stirring up more dust in the process, and after several wobbly false starts, pulled himself to his feet. He stood there, swaying unsteadily, as he tried to focus bloodshot eyes on Luke’s face. “I’ve seen you before,” he said at last.
Luke shook his head. He’d never laid eyes on the man before today. The poor drunk was delusional. Luke turned to go.
“I’ve seen you before,” the man insisted.
Luke could see Deborah and Case standing out in front of the store, waiting on him. He walked toward them, picking up his pace to shake the drunk who now followed him, shouting in a raspy voice, “I know you.”
“Who is that?” Deborah asked in a nervous whisper when Luke arrived at the front of the store.
Luke cast a careless glance over his shoulder to see the drunk stumbling along some twenty yards away. “Nobody. Just a drunk.”
Even so, Luke was determined to be gone before the man caught up to them. His shouting was beginning to draw a crowd, and Luke didn’t want Deborah and Case exposed to the crude insults. He took the paper-wrapped packages from Deborah’s arms. “Is this all?”
“The rest is already loaded in the wagon.”
“Good. Let’s go.” He caught her elbow and hurried her to the wagon, with Case ambling along behind them.
Luke tossed Case into the back of the well-loaded wagon, then gave Deborah a hand up before going around to climb onto the bench beside her.
The drunk was almost alongside them when Luke took the reins and signaled the team to go. The man shouted something, his words too slurred to understand, as they rolled by him.
“He’s creepy, Luke,” Case whispered from behind him. “I wish he’d go away.”
“He’s just a poor old drunk, Case,” Luke assured him as he steered the team out of town. “Nothing to worry about.”
But even as he spoke the words, Luke knew they were false. His sixth sense told him to worry plenty.