The Redemption of Jake Scully (11 page)

“You’ve failed in that respect, too. In fact, you’ve made me angrier than anyone else in Weaver has since my arrival.”

“That was not my intention. I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“My intentions were good, but I see they’ve been misconstrued.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Barret did not immediately respond.

Rigid with anger, Lacey said, “I don’t accept your claim that your intentions were good. Neither do I believe I’ve misconstrued them. You stopped me today to apologize for your previous comments about Scully, then proceeded to restate them in more positive terms. Let me save you the trouble of apologizing again by telling you you’ll be wasting your time. So, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Lacey—”

Lacey looked down at Barret’s hand on her arm as he again attempted to stay her. She objected from between tightly clenched teeth, “Take your hand off me.”

“Lacey, I—”

“And don’t ever bother me with your insincere apologies again.”

Waiting only until Barret’s hand had dropped back to his side, Lacey walked off, head high.

She was still walking resolutely, refusing to look back, when Barret’s words returned to tighten the knot that had formed deep inside her the previous night.

Scully’s preference for redheaded women is well-known in Weaver.

Lacey reached up toward her platinum locks with tears suddenly brimming.

Barret walked back into his office, then turned to the window to watch as Lacey continued down the street. He mumbled an epithet, abandoning any further attempt to gain Lacey’s confidence. She did not respond to his guile like the average woman—but the reason was simple. She was
not
the average woman. Her facade was carefully calculated. Her defense of Scully was somehow useful to her at the moment and it would not change.

There was one area, however, where he knew his barbs had lodged deeply. His remark about Scully’s preference for redheads had struck home because Lacey had seen the evidence of it with her own eyes.

Lacey slipped out of sight, and Barret turned back to his desk with a single thought consoling him. He need not worry that Lacey would consider confiding the location of her grandfather’s mine to Scully now—not with Charlotte on the scene.

Barret smiled to himself with his certainty that Lacey would turn against Scully sooner or later. That was a reality he could count on.

Because that was the way women were.

Rosie was breathless with excitement when she reached her boarding house door. A small smile on her lips and a paper tablet and pencil in hand, she walked up the staircase toward her room on the second floor. She had worked so hard during her first lesson, but she honestly believed Lacey had worked even harder. She had seen the concern in Lacey’s eyes when she had been briefly overwhelmed, and she had felt Lacey’s driving desire to help her learn. She was no longer puzzled why a lady like Lacey would care about someone like her, because she now knew the answer. She’d have the answer to all her other questions, too, when she was able to read the Bible for herself.

Rosie reached the top of the stairs and turned toward her door, then glanced down at the tablet she carried. Lacey had printed her name on the first page.

Rosie Burns.

She had copied the letters with Lacey’s instructions, and she would practice again as soon as she could.

She would be reading soon.

Very soon.

Rosie tucked her tablet under her arm as she pushed open the door to her room. One step inside and she froze. She looked at the half-empty bottle of red-eye on the nightstand beside the bed where Riley was reclining. She was unable to move as Riley sat up and demanded, “Where were you? I’ve been waiting for you for an hour.”

Rosie tossed her precious tablet and pencil casually onto a chair, leaving the door open behind her as she said, “I didn’t expect to see you here until tonight.”

“I asked you where you were.”

“At the boutique. I need a new dress.”

“You didn’t get one, though, did you?”

“No. I didn’t have enough money.”

Riley stood up and started slowly toward her. He was slight, wiry, tightly muscled. Rosie remembered a time when the sight of him—his curly blond hair, warm brown eyes and little-boy looks—had started her heart pounding with anticipation.

Now her heart pounded only with fear when he halted close beside her and whispered, “I don’t believe you.”

“But—”

“I went past the store and looked inside for you, but you weren’t there.”

“Maybe I was at the mercantile.”

“You weren’t there, either.”

“Or the apothecary. I needed something for…”

“Stop lying! Who were you with?”

Rosie took a shaken breath. Riley looked at the chair where she had dropped the tablet. She took a step toward it as he reached over and picked it up. She held her breath when he opened the tablet to the first page where her name was printed, where her own, primitive attempts at drawing the letters were clearly visible.

“Rosie Burns…your name.” He laughed aloud. “Well, either a kid is learning how scribble, or somebody’s trying to teach you to write your name. Which is it?”

“Riley…”

“I asked you…” Riley grasped her arm painfully tight. The smell of liquor was heavy on his breath as he said hotly, “Which is it?”

Tears squeezed out the corners of her eyes as Rosie replied, “I bought the book in the mercantile, and I asked Mrs. Wilson to print my name in it…so I could try to copy it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“You’re thinking after you learn to write your name, you’ll be too good for me, huh?”

“No, I didn’t think any such thing. I just wanted to know how to write my name, is all.”

Riley released Rosie so abruptly that she staggered back a few steps. She watched as he picked up the pencil Lacey had so carefully sharpened. He turned toward her and broke it in half, then, laughing at her gasp, tore the sheet containing her name out of the tablet and tossed it onto the floor. He was tearing the other pages out one by one when Rosie charged toward him.

“That’s mine! Give it to me!”

Riley raised his hand to strike her when Jewel appeared unexpectedly in the doorway and said, “Leave her alone!”

Rosie looked up to see the derringer in Jewel’s hand was pointed directly at Riley.

When Riley turned to advance toward Jewel, Jewel warned, “Don’t make that mistake, Riley. I’m not afraid to shoot.”

Riley slurred, “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Jewel? I thought we was friends.”

“We’re not friends, and we never will be. You’re drunk. Get out of here.”

Riley took a step. “I’m not going nowhere.”

“You’d better.”

“If you’re thinking that boyfriend of yours can protect you when that gun’s not in your hand, you’re wrong.”

“I can protect myself.”

“You think so, huh?”

Jewel aimed the pistol pointedly. “Either you get out of here now, or I’m going to fix it so neither Rosie or any other woman will ever have to worry about you bothering them again.”

Riley went still. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Riley turned back to Rosie and demanded, “Tell her, Rosie, honey. Tell her I didn’t mean nothing.”

Rosie stood stiffly. She did not respond.

Jewel did not blink. “Get out.”

“You’ll be sorry about this.”

“Yeah, I know. Get out.”

“You will, too, Rosie.”

Rosie remained silent.

Riley took a lurching step forward as Jewel stepped aside. He mumbled under his breath as he walked out through the doorway.

Following him at a safe distance, Jewel watched as he stumbled down the staircase and out the front entrance, slamming the door behind him.

Back in Rosie’s room, Jewel closed the door behind her, then looked at Rosie where she stood against the wall with tears streaming. She said, “Come on over to the washstand and wash your face. You’ll feel better.”

Rosie swallowed. She moved abruptly to gather up the broken pieces of pencil and the sheets torn from the tablet. She was still clutching them close when she walked to the washstand.

Sunday morning. The sun beamed down from a cloudless sky. Weaver’s main street was silent. The Gold Nugget Saloon was dark.

Lacey stepped out through the boarding house doorway and started toward the small church hidden from view around the curve of the main street. She had intended to wait for Mary, but the older woman had waved her on ahead when the last-minute details of cleaning up after breakfast had taken longer than expected.

Dressed in her Sunday best, a simple blue cotton with a matching hat and reticule, Lacey walked at a modest pace, somehow feeling more alone than she had ever felt in her life. She clutched her Bible tightly and smiled at Weaver’s prominent citizens as they emerged from their doorways, but she made no attempt to join them. She searched the growing parade and saw Wilson and Janine Parker from the mercantile store walking with Doc Mayberry; Rita Johnson, the apothecary’s niece, with her stiff-necked mother and father; Noelle Leach, the blacksmith’s daughter and her father, Noah, just turning the corner of the street ahead. She nodded at Hiram Watts, Jerry Livingston and Mitch Carter as they lounged against a storefront on the opposite side of the street and tipped their hats in her direction.

The church bells began ringing as if on cue, and doorways opened along the street as additional churchgoers emerged to join the silent parade. Lacey scanned the street, her spirits sinking lower when the person she had hoped to see did not appear.

Lacey thought back to her conversation with Barret Gould, and her anger again simmered. It was not Christian and her thoughts were not worthy of the Sabbath, but she truly disliked that man. Even more, she despised what he had said.

Scully’s preference for redheaded women is well-known in Weaver.

Those words haunted her. They seemed to confirm what she had witnessed the previous night between Scully and Charlotte. They had stolen the joy from her successful first lesson with Rosie. They had left her silent and uncommunicative with Scully at supper later that night. They had made her more vulnerable than ever before to the nightmares, which had assaulted her vividly every time she had dozed during the night.

She was angry with herself because she hadn’t had the courage to release Scully completely from the bondage of sharing his daily meals with her. Her excuse had been that Scully didn’t appear to resent that ritual, but she vacillated, still uncertain. She had prayed for direction only to have awakened that morning still suffering indecision.

Lacey’s step momentarily stilled as Barret Gould walked onto the main street to join the stream of worshippers. Frowning, she wondered at his reason for going out of his way to take the Main Street route to church instead of the shorter route from his house on the next street.

Barret was dallying. Lacey realized abruptly that at the present rate she was walking, she would soon reach his side.

No, that would never do.

Silently imploring the Lord’s forgiveness, Lacey crossed the street to avoid Barret completely. She could not be sure that his dallying was a deliberate effort to again place himself in her path, but she rationalized it was far better to avoid interaction with him than to chance her reaction if he attempted to start another conversation.

The irrational ache in the pit of her stomach remaining, Lacey cast another surreptitious glance around her, then chastised herself for entertaining the hope that Scully would appear somewhere on the street to accompany her. Without saying the words, Scully had made it clear the first day she had met Reverend Sykes that he had no intention of taking the reverend up on his invitation to attend Sunday worship. She did not choose to judge him for that decision. Scully had already gone out of his way to accommodate her—far more than she had realized until she had glimpsed him with Charlotte.

The unhappiness inside her expanded.

“Lacey…good morning.”

Lacey turned at the sound of her name. Todd Fulton stepped out from the shadows and walked up to her side. She noted that the young wrangler’s dark hair was neatly combed underneath his hat as he tipped it politely, that he was freshly shaven and was wearing clothes that were obviously newly purchased as he confessed, “I was waiting in the doorway for you to pass. I knew you’d be going to church this morning. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.”

“Mind? Of course not.” Lacey forced her smile brighter as she looked into Todd’s uncertain expression. “I’d enjoy your company.”

“I was hoping you would. I was also hoping you’d have dinner with me tonight. It would pleasure me greatly.”

“I…well…” Lacey took a breath. If this was a sign, she couldn’t ignore it. Her decision made, she forced herself to say, “I’ll be happy to have dinner with you.”

Todd was conversing easily as they approached the church, but Lacey’s thoughts wandered. She was no longer walking alone…yet she still felt strangely alone.

Lacey scanned the street one last time as she approached the church doorway. Resigned, she walked inside.

Scully watched from a position out of sight of the procession making its way to church. Lacey disappeared through the church doorway with Todd walking proudly beside her. Scully lingered only until the church doors closed and the singing began before walking back in the direction from which he had come.

Somehow, he couldn’t put a name to the feelings inside him. Nor could he quite understand what had driven him to the street to see Lacey so early that morning after the especially active Saturday night he had had at the Gold Nugget. Was it because she had been so quiet at supper, because he had sensed a distance widening between them, or was it because, if Todd hadn’t stepped up unexpectedly to accompany her, he might’ve been the man to walk beside her though the church doors for Sunday service?

No matter. Todd was with her now, and as long as the cowpoke behaved himself, he supposed Lacey was better off.

Yes, of course, she was.

He was sure of it.

Chapter Eight

T
he fire burned hotter. It singed her skin.

Her lungs were on fire.

There was no way out.

She cried out, “Help! Help me…” but her scorched lips refused to allow the sound passage.

She was outside the burning cabin—but the danger remained.

Grandpa was dead! They had killed him, and still they lingered.

They came closer…nearer.

Help! Help me!

Lacey awoke with a start, her heart pounding. She struggled against the terror remaining in the silent shadows of her boarding house room. She closed her eyes, then snapped them open again, telling herself it would soon be Monday morning, the beginning of another week. She had only had another nightmare, like the many others she had suffered through before. She would survive. Dawn would bring relief from her fears.

Lacey sat up slowly in bed. She was still trembling and a glance at the window revealed that dawn was hours away. Determined to take charge of her emotions, Lacey forced herself to lie back again. She firmly closed her eyes. She would not surrender to fear.

Grandpa’s image appeared vividly in the darkness of her mind’s eye, and Lacey smiled. Those sparkling eyes and that dear, bearded face…But, the image was changing. It was being replaced by a sober, handsome face and a serious, gray-eyed gaze that held hers intently. That gaze warmed her, held her safe and she abandoned herself to its comfort.

Scully.

Of course.

He would always keep her safe.

Lacey emerged from the boarding house doorway and glanced up at the lightening sky. It was Monday morning, and dawn had not fully consumed the night, but she was already dressed and on her way. Sadie would be surprised to see her at the restaurant so early and she—

Lacey gasped as a figure stepped out of the shadows.

“Lacey.”

Her fear dissipated.

“Scully, what are you doing here so early?”

Scully walked to her side and Lacey felt his warmth pervade her. His handsome face, his sober gaze, the sheer size and masculine power of him—all was gentleness and understanding in his dealings with her.

She had felt that gentleness and understanding when she had explained the previous day that she would be having Sunday supper with Todd. She had seen the flicker of an unnamed emotion in his gaze before Scully had nodded and accepted her decision without comment. She had reasoned that the strange sense of abandonment she had felt when Scully left her at her door was unrealistic, that she needed to become more independent for Scully’s sake, as much as for her own. She had enjoyed Todd’s company that evening and had even tentatively consented to see him again, while still scanning the street for a sign of Scully in the hope of seeing
him
again before the day ended.

It had occurred to Lacey that her most recent nightmare—a dream more vivid and more terrifying than its predecessors—might have been related to that sense of abandonment, but she had forced that thought away. Scully had a life of his own. She needed to remember that.

Yet she did not question her joy at Scully’s unexpected appearance in the predawn shadows as she smiled up into his uncertain expression and he said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re happy to see me waiting here for you this morning.”

“And you’d be right, even if I’m surprised to see you, since the Gold Nugget probably only closed a few hours ago.”

Scully sobered as he scrutinized her surprising lack of color and the dark shadows under her eyes. He said, “You look like you didn’t sleep well, Lacey. Was it the nightmares again?”

“You always seem to open our conversations by telling me how tired I look.” Lacey continued her light rejoinder with a shake of her head. “Everybody else tells me how
good
I look….”

“You do look good—better than any woman in this town—but that doesn’t mean I can’t see that you had a fitful night’s rest.”

“You see right through me, don’t you, Scully?”

“No. If I could, I wouldn’t be here this morning, wondering what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m glad you and Todd have struck up a friendship, Lacey. I’m glad to see you’re settling in—but I have a feeling there’s something else going on.” Scully hesitated, then continued, “I want you to talk to me, Lacey. I have the feeling you’re trying to shut me out, even though you say you’re glad to see me this morning.”

“I told you, I
am
glad to see you.”

“So?”

“Oh, Scully…” Unable to avoid telling him the truth any longer, Lacey blinked back the sudden heat of tears and said, “I’m trying not to be selfish.”

“Selfish!”

“I’ve been claiming all your time since I came back to Weaver—as if I have a special right to it.”

“You do have a special right.”

“No, I don’t. You have a life of your own. It doesn’t necessarily coincide with mine, and I shouldn’t expect it to. I came back to Weaver for a few purposes. I explained the first—to take care of you in your old age—which was a misconception on my part. The second was to lift the shadows from the memories I have of my grandfather. The third—” Lacey shrugged, unable to express a thought not totally clear in her own mind. “Well, it looks like I haven’t done so well on any of those fronts.”

“So you figure to start by pushing me out of your life and pretending you’re no longer my responsibility.”

“I’m an adult now, Scully. I’m responsible for myself. That’s something I’ve had to make myself face.”

“Why?”

“You need to go on with your own life.”

“What’s all this concern about my life all of a sudden?”

“‘All of a sudden…’” Lacey’s spirits sagged. “I guess that says it all.”

“No, it doesn’t. You came back to Weaver expecting I’d help you settle the past and situate yourself in the present, and you had a right to that assumption. So…what happened? Why has everything suddenly changed?” And when Lacey averted her gaze, he asked, “Come on, Lacey, tell me.”

Lacey looked back up at Scully. How could she explain? How could she make him understand?

Truth was the only answer.

Lacey responded bluntly, “I saw you with Charlotte outside the Gold Nugget the other night. I’m sorry, Scully.”

“Sorry about what?” Scully’s broad frame tensed noticeably. “Charlotte’s a friendly acquaintance, but neither of us have made our friendship out to be more than that.”

“I saw you kiss her, Scully.”

“I’ve kissed a lot of women in my life.”

“There was something special about that kiss.”

“Not on my part.”

“Scully…”

“Is that what this is all about—a simple kiss? Lacey, you’ve been sheltered all your life, but the truth is, a kiss doesn’t signify commitment. That’s all it is—just a kiss.”

Scully flushed as a thought suddenly struck him. He asked, “Why? Did Todd try to kiss you last night?”

“Of course not!” Lacey’s reply was spontaneous. She then added, “But why would it matter if ‘a kiss is only a kiss’?”

“Because you seem to think it means more.”

“A kiss is an expression of caring, Scully. I’m not so
naive
that I don’t understand that. I’ve been tempted to kiss you myself a few times.”

Silent a few moments, Scully replied unexpectedly, “So, why didn’t you?”

“Because I thought it would be forward. I thought you might resent—”

“I wouldn’t have resented it.”

Lacey was uncertain of the reason for the sudden thickness in her throat as she replied, “All right, then.”

Standing on tiptoe, Lacey pressed a lingering kiss against Scully’s cheek. Somehow dissatisfied, she impulsively slid her arms around his neck and hugged him close. She whispered, “I do love you, Scully. I always will. You’re the best friend I’ll ever have…dearer than anyone I know…closer to me than if you were actually my family, but I don’t want my feelings to become a burden to you. You have a life of your own that’s separate and apart from me. I want to make sure you don’t end up resenting me for keeping you from it.”

Scully’s strong arms closed around her, and the tightness in Lacey’s throat thickened as she said, “Please understand…I’ll always love you, Scully, no matter how many Charlottes there are in your life.”

Thrust abruptly an arm’s length from him, Lacey looked up into Scully’s stern expression as he repeated, “Charlotte is an
acquaintance.
That’s all.”

“I’m just using Charlotte as an example.” Lacey hastened to explain, “I know you prefer redheaded women and I—”

“Who told you that?”

Lacey went still.

“It’s untrue, and I want to know who said it.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve already set him straight about it. I told him your personal preferences are nobody’s business but yours, and they certainly aren’t
my
business.”

“Tell me who it was.”

“No.”

“Was it Todd?”

“No!”

“Who—”

“Don’t ask me again, Scully. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Scully, please! I made a mistake mentioning it. Don’t make me regret it even more than I do now. It doesn’t matter, really it doesn’t. He won’t repeat what he said to anyone else. If he was trying to warn me against you, I’ve made it clear I didn’t feel I had any need to be warned. I also told him I’m not interested in anything else he has to say, whether it’s about you or anyone else.”

“Was it Reverend Sykes?”

“Scully, I told you…I won’t answer you.”

“All right.” His chest heaving with the anger he suppressed, Scully continued, “You won’t tell me, so I’ll make this point clear right now. That kiss you witnessed between Charlotte and me meant nothing more than casual friendship. I’ve kissed a lot of women and held a lot of women in my arms.”

Unexpectedly drawing her against him, Scully brushed a kiss against her cheek and said, “Now I’ve kissed you, too. I’m also holding you in my arms, and you can believe me when I tell you that brief kiss I just gave you means more to me than any of those others.”

When Lacey did not reply, Scully drew back and whispered, “I kissed you, Lacey, and you aren’t even a redhead.”

Lacey’s spontaneous laugh was the signal he appeared to have been waiting for. Scully slid Lacey’s arm through his and said, “Enough said. Come on. Sadie will be wondering where you are. Besides, I’m hungry, and I haven’t been to bed yet. I’m going to take care of both those necessities in that order, as soon as possible.”

Lacey walked beside Scully. Her cheek burned from the touch of his lips. His warmth filled her when he looked back down at her and added, “Now that all that nonsense is settled, I’ll be back at noon to take you to lunch.”

“Oh, no.” Lacey shook her head regretfully. “I have to be at the church.”

Scully’s gaze narrowed. “Supper, then?”

“Yes.”

They turned onto the main street’s boardwalk and Lacey clutched Scully’s arm unconsciously closer. The day was brighter and her heart had lightened.

How had she come to be so blessed?

“I’m going with you.”

Rosie looked at Jewel as the taller saloon girl stood illuminated by a shaft of afternoon sunlight in the doorway of her room. Jewel’s color was more vibrant than her own and her demeanor was more assured, but Rosie knew only too well that underneath her outward composure, Jewel was like her—still the abandoned child she had once been, still struggling to find her way. Their common backgrounds had made them instant friends after meeting at the Gold Nugget two years earlier, and the common problems they had shared since that time had brought them even closer.

Yet there were basic differences between them that made Rosie question Jewel’s motivation as she replied, “You don’t have to come to my lesson with me, Jewel. Riley won’t be back for a few days. It always takes him that long to come to terms with the way he acted. Besides, he doesn’t know anything about my lessons. He thinks I bought the tablet.”

Jewel responded unexpectedly, “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to go with you because I’m as eager to learn as you are?”

“No.” Rosie replied honestly, “I didn’t think it mattered much to you.”

“It doesn’t, but it won’t hurt, either.”

“Then you’re not coming with me because you think Riley will be waiting for me somewhere?”

“No.”

“Truth, Jewel…”

“That’s not my only reason.”

“But you want to take your derringer with you.”

Confidence returned to Jewel’s expression. “I’m never without it.”

“Lacey wouldn’t want you to take a gun into the church.”

“Don’t tell her, then.”

“Jewel…”

“I’m coming with you—like it or not.”

“Jewel, please, leave the gun here.”

“I told you, I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“You can go to the church without it.”

Jewel did not respond.

“Jewel…”

Rosie saw the myriad of emotions that raced across Jewel’s expression. She was not aware she was holding her breath until she released it when Jewel reached into her pocket, withdrew the derringer, then took a few steps into the room to shove it underneath a bed pillow and said, “Are you happy now?”

A smile her only response, Rosie picked up her torn tablet and broken pencil, and turned toward the door.

Scully awakened abruptly from his sleep. He glanced at the bright sunlight against the window shade of his bedroom, then at the clock on the wall. It was almost noon. He had slept for a few hours and had awakened automatically as if his inner clock, always so dependable in the past, was telling him he had an appointment with Lacey for their noon meal.

But he didn’t.

Scully slid his arm underneath his head in a deceivingly casual pose that did not reflect the many conflicting thoughts that had plagued him since his conversation with Lacey that morning. He remembered the moment she had walked out of the boarding house door into his view. Her startling beauty had been luminous even in the limited light of morning, but the true significance of the moment had come when she heard his voice and turned toward him with true joy in her smile. That moment of reality had hit him hard. He hadn’t realized how much he had been depending on her reaction to seeing him there that morning.