Molly Noble Bull (13 page)

The morning skipped by quickly. As soon as she finished one project, she started on another.

For one of her decorations, Honor pulled out a big ball of cotton and placed it on the table beside her. Next, she reached into her bundle and got out a glass jar containing paste she’d made by mixing flour and water. She planned to transform the cotton into tiny snowflakes.

Dabbing a snowflake with a bit of paste, she pressed the delicate fluff onto the wall around the doorway. When she’d attached a few more, she stood back to view her work. Yes, the room was going to look very different and beautiful. The children would love it. She would worry about how she was going to remove the cotton balls at a later date.

At the tap of boots on the pine floor, she glanced up. Jeth appeared in the doorway. Honor’s mouth gaped open. As an afterthought, she covered her lips with her hand and faked a coughing spell.

“You better take something for that cough, Miss McCall. Frankly, I think you look tired. You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been getting enough rest?”

“You look very nice, too, Reverend.”

He laughed. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. Can we start all over? Maybe I should go out and come in a second time. You see, I came here to invite you to have lunch with me in my office.”

She shook her head. “Too busy.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood watching her. “As your boss, Miss McCall, I have a job I want you to do.”

“All righty.” With a perky flair, Honor pulled a black slate and a piece of chalk from the box. Holding the chalk between her thumb and forefinger, she hesitated. “Well, what is it? I plan to write down whatever you say.”

“I already told you. You’re having lunch with me.”

“That’s the job you have for me?”

He nodded. “It’ll soon be noon.” He checked his pocket watch. “I’ll expect you in my office in five minutes.”

Honor took the ball of cotton and tossed it into the box. “There. Now, I’m ready to go.” She wiped her hands on a white cloth.

She thought about the box filled with supplies. The blue socks she’d been knitting for Jeth were inside. She’d intended to take them back to the boardinghouse to work on them there, but she’d forgotten. It wouldn’t do for him to see his present before Christmas. Honor leaned over and slammed down the lid.

“What have you got in there?” he asked teasingly. “Explosives?”

She sent him an innocent stare.

“Come on,” he insisted. “Admit it. You’re hiding something. Confess. It’s good for the soul.”

She blinked, fluttering her eyelashes for maximum affect. “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

Merriment shone in his expressive blue eyes. Perhaps he was enjoying himself. She hoped that was true.

“I always thought you had a sense of humor under that serious exterior of yours,” he said. “Now I know for sure.”

Honor smiled but didn’t say anything.

He liked her. She was sure of it. Honor knew she liked him. Dare she allow herself to think the word
love?

She shook her head, rejecting that possibility. She would never be good enough for a man like Jeth Peters. It was time to face reality.

“I
s there anything I can do to help so you can leave sooner, Miss McCall?” Jeth asked. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry.”

“Thank you, but everything’s been done.”

“I’m looking forward to having lunch with you.”

Honor smiled. “I know I’ll enjoy it very much.”

A heavy rain pelted against the windows. Honor went over to see they were shut firmly enough.

When she’d turned back around, she pointed to the tiny balls of cotton that she’d pasted to the blue wall. “Thought you’d like to see what I’m working on.”

Jeth focused on the wall. Frowning, he peered at the bits of white fluff. “What is it?”

“The first of many snowflakes.” She motioned with her head toward the dots. “What do you think?”

“I think I want to be far away from here when you try to remove the cotton from that wall.”

She laughed. “It shouldn’t be
too
hard.” She shrugged
as though she had a plan, which she didn’t. “Were you joking? Or did you really fix lunch?”

“I did part of the work. I spread out the tablecloth and helped Mrs. Grant set the table. Then I drove her back to the boardinghouse.”

Honor clucked her tongue. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am.”

He laughed, and she joined in.

Jeth offered her his arm. “Shall we go?”

Honor hooked her arm through his and gazed up at him. “Let’s.”

Honor smelled the scent of fried chicken as soon as she stepped into Jeth’s office. A greater thrill was the company of a charming man like Jeth.

Evergreen branches and fall leaves had been placed in a white, china vase in the middle of a desk that doubled as a dining table. Straight-backed chairs were at each end of the desk, and the top of a low bookcase had been converted into a buffet table. Appetizing aromas wafted from steaming bowls of food. Red candles, white dishes, crystal glasses, and a red-and-white checkered tablecloth gave the entire room a welcoming air. If Honor didn’t know better, she’d find the setting…romantic.

“So what do you think?” Jeth asked.

“I think everything looks lovely.”

He gestured toward the serving area. “Would you like to eat now?”

“Of course. Why else would I be here?”

He handed her a white plate. “Do you always make a joke out of everything? You’ve been doing it a lot lately.”

Gripping the plate in both hands, Honor thought of all the times she’d responded to one of Lucas’s unseemly suggestions with a witty reply, hoping to deter him. Her sense of timing and humor had saved her sanity when she was a young teenager, but she couldn’t tell Jeth that.

When they had filled their plates, Jeth followed her to the table. He put down his plate, helped Honor into her chair, and then lit the candles before sitting down to eat.

Everything seemed perfect. Yet the memories from her past had put her nerves on edge.

“What’s wrong?” Jeth asked. “When you look like that, I can tell something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me. As you said, I guess I’m a little tired.”

On the following Saturday morning, when the worship service ended, Honor rose from her usual seat in the back row. Winter Wonder Day had finally arrived, and she’d made a mental list of all she had to do. With all the last-minute cooking and other preparations, she had intended to skip the fair’s opening ceremonies, but Jeth had wanted her to attend.

As Honor made her way to the children’s music and Bible study room, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Turning, Honor was startled to be staring into the eyes of John Crammer, a boy she had known from Falling Rock. Only, he wasn’t a freckle-faced boy anymore. He was an overweight young man with carrot-colored hair, squinty brown eyes and a red beard.

Was John still the bully he used to be? Memories of taunting words and pigtails dipped in inkwells filled her mind.

“I knew I seen you in church this morning,” John said. “What brings you to Hearten?”

“What brings
you
here, John?”

“The fair, of course. I come every year. But I ain’t never seen you here before.”

A pale young woman with blond hair and blue eyes stood slightly behind him. Though Honor couldn’t remember her name, she recalled that the young woman was also from Falling Rock, and not much of a talker.

Ignoring John, Honor forced a smile and aimed it at the young woman. “Forgive me. I think I know you, but I can’t remember your name.”

“This here is Willa,” John said proudly, gazing down at the young woman. “She’s my wife.”

Willa blushed, looking down at her shoes.

“We’re here on our—” he grinned sheepishly “—our honeymoon and staying at the hotel.”

“Congratulations.” Honor started to back away. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Now, hold on a minute,” John insisted. “I have some questions to ask you.”

“What questions?”

“Where have you been all this time? My younger brother and I work for Mr. Scythe now. And he’s been looking everywhere for you. Asking questions. Wanting to know who seen you last.”

Honor tensed.

“Why, I reckon your uncle’s traveled pretty near all over the state of Colorado looking for you by now. Even set a reward for the one who finds ya. Thirty dollars.”

Honor was shocked. Where would Lucas get thirty dollars?

“As far as I know,” he added, “he’s still looking for ya—”

“I have to go.”

Heart pounding, Honor raced down the short hallway to the door to the children’s music room.

Would John tell Lucas what he knew in order to collect the reward? Knowing John, the answer was yes.

She’d promised Jeth and the Lord she wouldn’t leave Hearten until Mrs. Peters returned. Once more, she prayed that she could keep her vow and still have time to escape.

“What’s the matter?” Jeth demanded. “Is something wrong?” He stood looking at her from the doorway of his office.

Until that moment, she hadn’t known he was there.

“I know something’s the matter,” he said. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I—I’m not feeling too well this morning. I think maybe I’m getting sick.”

“I’m not surprised with all the work you’ve been doing. Why don’t you go back to the boardinghouse and rest? I’ll get somebody to take over for you.”

“Nobody else knows what must be done.”

“Belinda Grant knows.”

“Yes, but she’s back at the boardinghouse, seeing to things there.”

“When I drive you home, I’ll ask her what your duties are. She’s been as worried about you as I have. Better yet, you can tell me on the way.”

“All right, I’ll tell you. Can’t fight you and Mrs. Grant both. But who will you get to take my place?”

His expression faltered, then he smiled. “Miss Lucy Jordan. She just volunteered to help out. I’ll get her to do your jobs.”

Lucy again. Honor should have known.

She didn’t want anyone else to finish the tasks she’d worked on for so long—especially Lucy—and she wasn’t really sick. She would feel guilty if she left. At the same time, she couldn’t face more of John’s questions. He seemed too eager for the reward to let her out of his sight. She would have no choice but to return to the boardinghouse and stay in bed for the rest of the day.

“Get your things,” Jeth insisted. “I’m driving you back right now. And I’ll be looking in on you later to see how you’re doing.”

A coughing spell erupted and Lucas drank a big swallow of whiskey directly from the bottle. Then he put the letters he’d written into the inside pocket of his jacket.

But would he remember to mail them? With his failing memory, he never knew.

He’d started drinking as soon as he got up on Saturday morning. As well as his coughing spells, he had a fever and felt slightly nervous over a job interview at another saloon. Liquor calmed his nerves, but walking also helped. He filled his flask with whiskey from the bottle and put it in
the pocket with the letters. His hand still in his vest pocket, his fingers touched a bottle cork.

At least one lucky charm is still there, he thought as he left the room. I don’t know what happened to the other one.

A thin layer of ice covered the stairway outside. He slipped, but caught hold of the icy railing in time to keep from falling. How he managed to descend those slippery steps without falling again and breaking his neck was a mystery to him. His late mother would have said God was with him. He had doubts about that.

Snow and ice covered the street and every rooftop. When he started walking, ice crunched under the soles of his brown boots.

Lucas strolled by the depot, coughing as he went. He hoped to catch one of the stagecoach drivers standing around. Maybe one of them remembered Honor. Two wooden signs hung on the entry door. He stepped closer to read them.

Apparently, they still hadn’t found the robbers. Had anyone at the stage office ever heard of Honor? He doubted Mr. Carter would tell him, even if he knew.

Lucas pulled out his flask, took a gulp of whiskey and set out again. He had plenty of time before the job inter
view and he figured that he might as well enjoy himself until then.

Houses lined both sides of the street and laughing children raced about in a few of the front yards playing tag. Thanksgiving would be arriving soon, then Christmas. Lucas wondered who Ruby planned to spend Thanksgiving with. Certainly not with him.

He’d almost forgotten about the holidays and now he wanted to keep it that way.

The main street was crowded and the brightly colored displays in store windows depressed him. Lucas hadn’t been interested in spending time or money on gifts since he was a child in Cold Springs.

He stopped in front of a large store in the middle of the block. People holding wrapped packages milled around, talking, laughing, engaging in their daily chores. Who knew? Maybe one of them might be Honor. Lucas was determined to find her. She was the only thing he thought about now—other than whiskey. He would even forgive her for taking whatever money had been hidden as long as she gave back anything that was left.

Walking on, he soon found himself in front of the café he had visited before. Two carpenters were building a roof to cover the area in front of the main entrance. Lucas assumed the roof was designed to protect those seated at the tables from the rain and snow. Still, the weather was too cold for outdoor dining. Shivering, he sat down at one of the tables. Perhaps he would see the young woman—the one who had reminded him of his sister, Clara. At that moment he spotted the woman, strolling down the street with another
woman, both wearing dark capes with hoods. The two women crossed the covered area where the tables were located and went into the café. Lucas noted that the young woman looked even heavier with child than the last time he’d seen her. Although he was unable to see the other woman’s face, the way she moved reminded him of someone.

Lucas followed the women into the café. They were seated at a table at the other end of the room. A need to talk to them, to hear what they were saying, suddenly overwhelmed him. He put his flask in his pocket and looked for a table near theirs.

He coughed, and a wave of dizziness engulfed him. Lucas felt weak and shaky. On unstable legs, he made his way across the redbrick floor. A vacant table waited, right next to theirs, but before he could sit down, the world began to spin. His body swayed back and forth. He reached for the back of a chair to steady himself. The chair’s legs scraped across the floor. He started coughing again, and both women turned to face him.

His mouth fell open. Lucas couldn’t believe his eyes. The other woman was one of his elder sisters. He hadn’t seen her in over twenty-five years. “Regina?”

“Lawrence, is that really you?”

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. All the air in his lungs had been sucked out. Seeing Regina again after all this time brought him face-to-face with memories he had no wish to remember. He backed away from the table. Then he turned and ran out of the café.

Honor left the church grounds with Jeth. She didn’t think John saw her, but how could she be sure?

Belinda Grant met them at the kitchen door of the rooming house. “What brings you two back here so soon?”

“Miss McCall is ill. She needs rest,” Jeth said. “And Mrs. Grant, ma’am, will you see to it that she gets something to eat? Even if it’s nothing more than soup?”

Honor hated it when people discussed her as if she wasn’t there, and she didn’t wait to hear more. Climbing the stairs to her room, she wondered what to do with herself. She preferred to keep busy; spending a day in bed when she felt perfectly healthy would not be easy.

She could read her Bible, but she knew with a sinking feeling, that nothing would stick. Her mind was too muddled. She kept thinking about John and the reward that he hoped to get if he told Lucas where to find her. He could be asking questions about her even now. If John learned where she was staying, Lucas would soon know, too.

What if John followed her to the boardinghouse? Would Belinda Grant answer his questions? Honor had never told the widow not to say anything about her because she’d never revealed that she was trying to hide.

Honor’s eyes drooped—she couldn’t keep them open. Perhaps she would climb in bed after all. She really did feel tired. Honor got into bed, clothes and all, and soon fell asleep.

Lucas tottered aimlessly up one street and down the next, drinking big swallows of whiskey—coughing, falling, getting back up.
Regina.
He fell down again.

Sitting in the snow, he lifted his flask and gave a toast. “Here’s to ya, sis.” He put the flask to his lips and drank. “You’re one of the only ones who ever loved me.” He got to his feet, then he stood, swaying.

What was Regina doing in the café with the young woman? What was she doing in Pine Falls? He’d heard she and her husband owned a boardinghouse. Didn’t know where. Lucas also thought he remembered hearing that her husband died, but he wasn’t sure.