The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 (19 page)

“Susannah said there’s a witness who can prove her innocence, the victim’s housekeeper. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hawkins left town in something of a hurry. The woman knows something all right, and she’s running. The only question is why.”

“Wasn’t there an investigation?” Nate asked. “Seems to me someone should have asked this Mrs. Hawkins if she’d seen anything.”

“Someone did—the sheriff. But the fellow who was killed is Senator Caldwell’s nephew, so things got rushed along a little bit.”

Nate’s lip curled in disgust. “Politics.”

“My sentiments exactly. Anyhow, Caldwell’s brother has decided he doesn’t want to wait for the trial. He’s after us with a lynch mob. We had a close call with him a day or so ago in Chalmers.” Jedidiah ran a comb through his hair, then glanced at Nate. “He’s a nasty one.”

“Well, if you say she didn’t do it, then I believe you. Your instincts about people have always been right on target.” Nate stood. “If you give me a description of Caldwell, I’ll have my men look out for him. In the meantime, you and Miss Calhoun can have yourselves a nice supper and spend a peaceful night here with us.”

“You don’t know how good that sounds, Nate.”

Something in his voice must have given him away, because Nate frowned. “Is there something you haven’t told me, Jedidiah? You look like you have something on your mind. Something more than business.”

“Of course not.” Jedidiah swept his things back into his saddlebag and buckled the bag securely.

“Something to do with Miss Calhoun, perhaps?”

Jedidiah’s head came up, and he glared. Nate held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Hey, I was just asking. She’s a beautiful woman, and you’ve been out on the trail together for a few days. I just thought you might want to talk about it. If there was something, I mean.”

“There’s nothing.”

Nate went on as if Jedidiah hadn’t answered. “I know when I was courting Darcy, there were times when I felt like I didn’t know myself at all. She was the mayor’s daughter, you know, which is how we got this house. And her father sure as heck had better plans for her than me, that’s for certain. But Darcy wanted me, and in then end, she got me.”

“That’s different, Nate. You intended to marry her right from the start. I have no plans to get married. Ever.” Jedidiah tossed his saddlebag into a corner. “My relationship with Susannah is just business. I intend to help her clear her name. Then I’m going to leave, just like I always do.” Even to his own ears, his protests sounded insincere.

“Just as long as you’re sure,” Nate drawled.

“Of course I am.”

“All right then.” Nate opened the door and gestured for Jedidiah to precede him. “Shall we join the ladies? My Darcy is a heck of a cook, if I do say so myself.”

Jedidiah paused before exiting and extended his hand. “Thanks for helping out, Nate.”

Nate took it. “Well, you trained me when I was a U.S. Marshal, and you also saved my life a couple of years back. I’m happy to return the favor.”

“A night’s sleep in a place where I don’t have to watch my back is going to go a long way, Nate.”

Nate clapped him on the shoulder as they left the room. “You don’t have to tell me, old friend. I’ve been there myself.”

Somehow Jedidiah felt that Nate wasn’t just talking about life on the trail.

Susannah stood in the kitchen and watched as her hostess expertly basted the ham she had baking, then slid the meat back into the oven. The sunny kitchen was painted a pale ivory and seemed the perfect backdrop for the petite brunette. Honey-colored shelving and cabinets set off the soft blue gingham curtains that fluttered at the open window, and a vase of daisies stood on the window sill. The image was one of functional comfort, and it suddenly reminded Susannah painfully of her mother’s kitchen back home.

“The potatoes are cooking and the corn is just about done,” Darcy said cheerfully. “All I need to do is to make the biscuits. Nate adores biscuits.”

“May I help?” Susannah asked. “It’s been so long since I made biscuits.”

“How long?” Darcy asked, setting out the ingredients.

“Years. I left home about four years ago, and the way I traveled around, it never seemed practical to cook for just myself. I ate at restaurants or in whatever boarding house I was staying in at the time.”

“It’s nice to eat in a restaurant once in a while,” Darcy said, cracking eggs open on the side of the bowl with a practiced motion. “But after a while, I start thinking about how I would have prepared the food and what I would have done differently, and it just takes the fun right out of the whole experience.”

“I never thought about it,” Susannah replied. “I’m a good cook, and I can sew anything—my mother is a seamstress—but I always end up eating at restaurants and buying store-bought clothes.”

“Oh, are you handy with a needle?” Darcy energetically kneaded the dough, casting Susannah a hopeful glance. “I’ve been working on this new dress, but I haven’t had anyone to help me get the hem right. Perhaps you could give me a hand after we finish the biscuits?”

Susannah smiled with real delight. “I’d be happy to.”

Jedidiah followed the sound of voices into the parlor, then stopped dead in the doorway. And stared.

Darcy stood up on a stool, wearing a half-finished dress of some white material that had little violets on it. Susannah knelt on the floor, a pin cushion at her elbow, chattering and laughing as she pinned up the trailing hem of the gown. He watched the quick, adept movements of her fingers, the way she barely had to look where to set the pin, and realized that Susannah Calhoun had made more than one dress in her life.

For some reason, the knowledge stunned him. He had always thought that Susannah was a woman who preferred town life to the cozy comforts of home. A woman who preferred to have a dressmaker create her garments. A woman who would never soil her fingers by cooking her own food.

But the Susannah he saw before him now, laughing as she conversed with Nate’s bubbly little bride, seemed to be a completely different woman. How many sides were there to Susannah Calhoun?

“Something smells wonderful,” Nate said from behind him, drawing the attention of the two women.

“Don’t you dare steal a bite, Nathaniel Stillman!” Darcy warned. “Supper will be ready soon enough.”

“Just one little piece?” Nate wheedled.

“Don’t even bother,” Darcy said firmly. “We have guests. Save your begging for another time.”

“I don’t
beg
,” Nate said, clearly insulted.

Darcy ignored him. “Oh, dear, I forgot to check the biscuits!”

“Stay right there,” Susannah said, rising. “I’ll run in and take care of it, otherwise we’ll have to start all over again.”

“Thank you, Susannah,” Darcy said with a smile.

As Susannah approached, Jedidiah knew he should clear the doorway. But for some reason he stayed where he was, meeting her hesitant gaze as her steps slowed. She wore the pink dress she had been wearing the first day he had seen her in the jailhouse, the one that set off her smoky eyes and made her complexion glow. A few strands of hair had escaped the knot on top of her head, and the silvery blonde locks brushed her cheeks and temple in a way that looked nothing like untidy and everything like desirable.

Attuned to her as he was, he saw the way she caught her breath and the way the pulse at the base of her neck started to pound. She wasn’t indifferent to him. But she had made her choice clear back by the stream, and he had to respect it.

But damn it all, something about the way she looked as she was hemming that gown for Darcy made him think about promises of forever. And for the first time, he thought that maybe forever might not be such a bad deal.

“Excuse me, Jedidiah,” Susannah said softly.

Ever the gentleman, Jedidiah moved aside that she might pass. And then he watched the sweet sway of her delectable bottom as she walked down the hall to the kitchen.

If only he hadn’t lost his idealism years ago, he might have followed her into the other room and made a promise or two. Even though he had learned his lesson the hardest way possible, he still felt the longing for a home, for someone to be waiting for him when he came through the door in the evenings.

He wanted that someone to be Susannah.

Jedidiah scowled as the realization hit home and dug in deep. Behind him, Nate and Darcy started to bicker good-naturedly with one another. He glanced over, and couldn’t help but notice the contentment in Nate’s smile and how Darcy’s eyes sparkled as she answered his teasing. Darcy leaned slightly towards her husband, as if drawn to him, and Nate couldn’t seem to resist taking her hand or touching her hair. The intimacy between them was almost painful to watch, and Jedidiah found that he was jealous of what his friend had found with his new wife.

He wished he could be more like Nate, but he had lived this way for so long that he was certainly too old to change. But though it was too late for him, it wasn’t for Susannah. She was so vibrant and young that she would certainly find herself a handsome husband to settle down with.

The thought brought an ache to his chest. If only things were different, he might consider asking Susannah to share his life. But he was old enough to recognize when something wasn’t meant to be. No matter how much he wanted to make love to her, in the end, she was better off without him. Susannah deserved someone who could love her fully and completely, not a road-weary, set-in-his-ways cynic like him.

It was best to leave things as they were. He would help Susannah clear her name, and then he would let her go.

Because he cared for her too much to break her heart.

Supper was delicious, and while Nate and Darcy laughingly washed the supper dishes, Susannah stepped outside onto the back porch for a breath of fresh air.

Laughter and music drifted to her from the saloon at the other end of town. In a way, the Stillmans’ house reminded her of where she had grown up in Wyoming Territory. Burr was also a small town, and the house where she had lived with her parents stood back to back with Main Street, so she was used to hearing the sounds of the town as she went to sleep at night. But there was also a certain comfort to Darcy’s house that reminded her sharply of home. Once upon a time she had longed for a house of her own, much like this one.

She sat on the porch rail and looked up at the stars. It always amazed her that in the face of the immensity of the night sky, a body could feel positively insignificant. Whenever she stared up at the constellations above her, she always felt as if her own problems were miniscule, like a drop of rain in the vastness of a mountain lake. In the face of the star-studded beauty above her, her difficulties faded to mere annoyances, like the nip of a gnat on a warm summer night.

The only thing that remained huge was her confusing feelings for Jedidiah.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, he stepped out of the shadows near the side of the house. A pinpoint of red light drew her attention, and she realized that Jedidiah was smoking a cigar. He came toward her, his steps measured and easy, then took the cigar from between his lips and blew a stream of smoke into the air.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” he said by way of greeting.

She raised her brows. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“On occasion I enjoy a good cigar.”

“On occasion I get tired of eating other people’s cooking.”

He didn’t reply, merely puffed on his cigar for a moment or two. Finally he said, “Where’d you learn to sew?”

“My mother is a seamstress. You knew that. She taught Sarah and me. She also taught us how to cook and keep house.”

“So why aren’t you married with a passel of kids?”

Surprised at the vehemence in his tone, she answered carefully. “Until now I have never met a man who might tempt me to use my domestic skills, Marshal.”

“Until now?”

Her eyes widened, and she hurried to clarify. “I meant I have not
yet
met a man who made me long to become domesticated.”

“Just so we’re clear.” He took the cigar from his mouth and eyed it for a moment, as if it were a rare piece of artwork. “Some men weren’t made to be husbands, Susannah.”

“And some women weren’t meant to be wives.”

He glanced at her, surprise clear on his face. “If you don’t plan on marrying a man, that doesn’t leave much in the way of defining a relationship.”

She sensed a question in the statement, but she couldn’t tell what he was trying to ask. “I never said anything about getting married—or getting involved with a man at all. I find men to be a nuisance.”

He chuckled. “A lot of men find a woman to be a nuisance.”

“I don’t doubt it.” She stared up at the sky once more.

“You have a lot to offer a man, Susannah,” he said quietly. “Don’t doubt yourself.”

“I don’t doubt myself; I doubt men. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been surrounded by men who are attracted by what I look like and never interested in who I am.” She looked at him, so impossibly attractive in the half light of the moon. There was something very appealing about the way his face was shadowed, the way she couldn’t read his expressions, yet she knew she had his complete attention. She leaned closer. “Do you know I used to enter my peach pie in the Founder’s Day pie contest every year? And every year, I won.”