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“Papa arranged my marriage to Lucius Benoit, an older man who’d recently become his business partner.” Papa hadn’t given her any choice in the matter. Still, she wouldn’t recount how much she’d loved Justice and how her father’s cruel intervention had nearly destroyed her.
“Gerard was born the first year, and Isabelle three years later. After that, Lucius became involved in his work, as men do, so we rarely saw him.” She wouldn’t speak of Lucius’s brutality. Near the end, before he was shot, he admitted he’d married her for Papa’s money. But Papa had no money. He’d arranged the marriage thinking Lucius’s supposed fortune would pull their business out of debt. What a bitter irony for both men. And she’d been the pawn in the middle. While Lucius made her pay for it, shame over his beatings kept her silent about them.
“When he died—” she wouldn’t tell them how he’d met his end “—he left a few debts, which I plan to pay back over time.”
“How much debt?” Nate leaned toward her, perhaps to offer help. She couldn’t let him.
“Oh, not much in the grand scheme of things.” She waved a hand dismissively to deflect further questions. After all, it was her business, and hers alone, how much she owed Lucius’s cousin, Hugo. The other supposed debts from various merchants hadn’t been hers at all, but Hugo claimed they were, claimed he possessed notes she’d signed for gowns and hats and shoes. She couldn’t fight against such false charges when no one believed her. If Justice learned she’d fled her supposed creditors, he would surely arrest her.
Nate sat back, his forehead furrowed. “Last winter was pretty harsh, and we lost a lot of cattle, but we expect this year’s herd to put us on the road to financial recovery. If you need help, we might be able to work something out.”
“You’re very kind, but you really needn’t bother. Now with my job at the library—” she squeezed Susanna’s hand in gratitude “—I’ll start putting away money. And the children can work as they get older.” She managed a teasing smile. “Maybe you could teach Gerard to be a cowboy.”
Nate winced and studied his hands. “Maybe I could. We’ll see.”
Evangeline dabbed her damp cheeks again. “Please promise me you won’t tell anyone about this, especially Justice.”
While Susanna gave her an enthusiastic nod, Nate ran a hand down his cheek.
“I don’t know.” His eyes revealed his disapproval. “Since you haven’t done anything wrong, I don’t suppose Justice needs to know, at least not right now. But you should probably tell him someday for the sake of your old friendship.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Evangeline wouldn’t correct him about not having done anything wrong, or he might change his mind. As difficult as her past had been, her only goal now was to rear her precious children in safety and security. Once they were grown and on their own, she’d return to New Orleans and find some way to repay Hugo what she owed him. Whatever she found to do, it could never be as bad as what he’d demanded of her. As for those merchants and the notes she supposedly signed, it was a problem she had no idea how to solve.
* * *
In his small apartment over the jailhouse, Justice lay on his bed fully dressed because it was his night to be on alert for any mischief in town. Esperanza never had such troubles, but Justice and his deputy still traded off nights to keep watch. Sean was probably sawing logs in his rented room over at Starlings. As for Justice, he couldn’t sleep for thinking about Evangeline. Her beautiful face, which wily Susanna had arranged for him to observe over dinner, bore a haunted look. Was it grief over that scoundrel Benoit? Justice wondered how the man had died, and whether it was his death that had put a burr under the saddle of his sullen boy.
Justice was nineteen when his own father died. A godly, honest man, Father had been ruined by the shady dealings of his business partners, Evangeline’s father and Lucius Benoit, who’d put all the blame for the business’s losses on Benjamin Gareau to save their own necks. Having just returned from Europe, Justice had been too young, too inexperienced, too grief-stricken to investigate the particulars. The same day Father died, the day Justice needed Evangeline’s support more than ever, she’d refused to see him, instead choosing to marry Benoit.
If he could have spoken to her back then, he would have promised he’d work hard to prepare a comfortable life for the two of them, but she didn’t care enough even to bid him adieu. With Mother already long in her grave, he hadn’t seen any reason to stay in New Orleans, so he’d sold the house and furnishings his father left him to pay off his debts, then lit out for Texas. After trying his hand as a cowboy and doing many foolish things in bad company, he’d signed on with the Texas Rangers. Jubal Tucker became his mentor and put him on a straight path and brought him back to the Lord.
He knew the Almighty had brought him to Esperanza, but why had He brought Evangeline here, too? Was this a test of some sort? Was he supposed to—
Gunshots and wild hollering erupted in the street below, followed immediately by the sound of shattering glass. Justice sprang from his bed and raced to the window. Across the street and down a half block, men on horseback were shooting up Mrs. Winsted’s mercantile. Justice grabbed his guns and raced down the back stairs and through the jailhouse in time to see the gang ride off toward the west. No use chasing them. By the time he woke Sean and they saddled their horses, the varmints would be miles away in who knew what direction. He’d try to track them in the morning.
As Justice strode down the street to make sure Mrs. Winsted and her family were safe in their apartment over the store, he decided this was the worst day he’d endured since leaving New Orleans. Not only had Evangeline disrupted his life, but for the first time in his tenure as sheriff, outlaws had shot up a good citizen’s business. What else could go wrong?
Oh. Right. Tomorrow was his birthday. Having his past come back and smack him in the face wasn’t the way he’d planned to celebrate.
* * *
A slender beam of light shone through the window to brighten a patch of wall in Lizzie’s bedroom, waking Evangeline. Despite bawling cattle outside and frigid temperatures seeping into the room, she’d slept hard and awoke rested and full of hope about beginning her new life. Even her dreams of Justice frowning at her from his physical and moral height couldn’t subdue her excitement over her new job, because she’d also dreamed of the Christmas village and already had some ideas for how to decorate it. She looked forward to seeing its size and learning how she could help complete it. What fun that would be.
She rose from the cot and dressed quietly so Isabelle and Lizzie, both still blissfully asleep in the four-poster bed, wouldn’t waken. She found Susanna in the kitchen. The aromas of coffee, bacon and freshly baked bread roused her appetite. “Mmm, smells wonderful.”
“Thank you.” Susanna gave her a quick peck on the cheek before turning back to the sizzling bacon in the cast-iron skillet. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee and have a seat. Nate should be back from his chores in a minute, and we can eat in peace before the children need tending. We let them sleep late on Saturdays.”
Evangeline did as she was told. From her vantage point at the round kitchen table, she watched in awe as her cousin bustled about the room with the grace of a ballet dancer and the energy of a whirlwind. Having never learned to cook, in fact, having spent little time in her own kitchen except to hand weekly menus to the cook, she couldn’t imagine how Susanna knew what to do. Yet the moment Nate entered the back door, his face and hands still damp from washing up on the back porch, everything was in place for him to sit down to breakfast.
After greetings and prayers, they began to eat while Nate told Susanna about his plans for the day. “I still have some work to do at the big house before I head up in the hills on Monday to join Rand, so I’ll be around another day or two. I don’t mind showing Gerard what we do around here while you ladies go to town.”
Evangeline’s face must have shown her alarm because Susanna patted her hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Evie. Nate knows how to wrangle little cowboys.”
“He’ll be fine.” Nate grinned, and his green eyes twinkled. “We’re not breaking broncos or doing any other dangerous work. Does he know how to ride?”
“Forgive me.” Evangeline laughed softly. “I’ll try not to be overprotective. Yes, he rides.” A bitter memory came to mind. “He had his own pony until...” When Lucius died and Evangeline learned about his staggering debts, everything had to be sold, including the pony.
“That’s a good start.” Nate appeared finished with the conversation and his breakfast. He stood and kissed Susanna. “Bring him out to the barn after he eats. I’ll get the buggy ready for you.” He strode from the room, whistling slightly off key.
Susanna watched him leave and exhaled a sweet sigh, clearly still in love with her kind, handsome husband. “Well, let’s get the children up and fed.” She stood and put feet to her words.
Following her, Evangeline felt a bitter pang. Susanna assumed she’d had a happy marriage, too, but that was far from true.
Evangeline didn’t have time to ponder the matter. Awake and full of energy, five children demanded attention and food. After tending their needs, she and Susanna delivered Gerard to Nate and boarded the buggy with the other four. The instant friendship sprouting between Isabelle and Lizzie reminded Evangeline of her own closeness to Susanna when they were growing up. At least her daughter found a reason to be happy with the changes in her young life. Maybe Gerard would enjoy the challenges of learning about ranching.
Susanna drove the horse down a nearby lane leading to a house similar to her own. After introducing Evangeline to her sister-in-law Marybeth, a pretty Irish girl who’d married Rand, one of Nate’s brothers, Susanna instructed her three children to mind their aunt.
“I’ll bring you some penny candy, but if you haven’t behaved, you won’t get any.”
All four, including Isabelle, nodded solemnly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Evangeline smiled at her daughter, who never needed such a warning. The child strove to please almost to the point of perfectionism.
“I’m sure they’ll do fine.” Marybeth handed Susanna a shopping list. “Be sure to get the oatmeal. It’s about the only thing I can eat these days.” She patted her slightly rounded belly. “You’d think I’d be past this morning sickness by now. With Randy and Beth Anne, I felt better at four months.” She gazed fondly at her own two offspring, who appeared to be about five and three years old.
“Oh, dear,” Susanna said. “Shall I get something from Doc for you?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. You girls go have fun.”
With her blessing and the children’s enthusiastic farewell waves, Evangeline and Susanna were on their way. Evangeline hadn’t noticed even a hint of envy in Marybeth’s behavior over not going into town with them. Her own so-called friends in New Orleans had been far more exclusive regarding friendships. If Susanna’s other acquaintances in Esperanza were as generous, perhaps this was a place where she could truly rest her heart instead of fighting on every side simply for survival. Keeping Justice from learning about her past as they worked side by side and providing for her children were enough to contend with.
The mid-October breeze cut through Evangeline’s cloak, and she shivered. Her wardrobe and those of her children would never be sufficient in this cold climate. But Evangeline’s rapidly dwindling money wouldn’t be enough to buy material to make winter clothes. When she’d fled New Orleans, with its warmer weather, suitable clothing for Colorado winters had been the last thing on her mind.
As though hearing her thoughts and perhaps noticing her shiver, Susanna leaned into Evangeline’s arm. “It’s a good thing we’re about the same size. I have some warmer clothes you can wear until we can make some for you.”
“That would be lovely.” Evangeline enjoyed sewing and always preferred to make her own clothes. Her society acquaintances scoffed at her refusal to patronize the fashionable modistes in New Orleans, but even they admitted she was every bit as talented as those seamstresses trained in Paris.
“We can get some fabric today and get started. Won’t that be fun? I have a Singer, so it should go pretty fast. Just think. Sewing together as we used to.” Susanna giggled, which warmed Evangeline’s heart and reminded her of their merry girlhood adventures. “I’m sure Mrs. Winsted still has plenty of wool, heavy muslin and denim left, and she’ll be receiving new shipments by train until the Pass closes.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Evangeline didn’t know how she’d pay for the fabric, but perhaps Mrs. Winsted would give her a line of credit. She could pay her later from her earnings at the library.
They arrived in Esperanza shortly before nine o’clock along with many other people. Buggies, wagons, horses and pedestrians seemed to be streaming into town from all directions.
“It certainly is busy.” Evangeline scanned the various businesses. “What’s happening?”
“Ranchers and farmers come to town on Saturdays to do their shopping. And many people are stocking up for winter.” Susanna reined the buggy horse to a stop in front of a store with a large sign on the roof reading Winsted’s Mercantile. “Oh, my. Whatever happened here?”
Broken glass lay on the boardwalk in front of the door and was strewn over items displayed in the shattered window.
Susanna stepped down from the buggy and tied the horse to a hitching rail. “Come on, Evie. We need to help Mrs. Winsted clean this up.”
Evangeline followed her, carefully stepping over the shards. Inside the store, she stopped short. Near the counter, Justice stood talking to a woman perhaps in her late fifties, who wrung her hands. Every nuance of his posture and expression bespoke kindness and sympathy for the weeping woman. This was the Justice she recalled from long ago.
“We followed their tracks south beyond Cat Creek, but they mingled with too many others for us to sort them out.” He set a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll find the men who did this, and before I ship them off to Canon City Penitentiary—” his voice took on a hard edge “—I’ll make them repay every penny it costs to replace your window and any ruined merchandise.”
While the woman gave him a grateful smile, Evangeline’s heart froze. No, this was not the young man she’d grown up with. True to his name, Justice would see punishment meted out to the vandals. He’d become an unbending lawman and would show her no pity if he learned about her flight from her debts, both real and false.
“Mrs. Winsted.” Susanna hurried over to embrace the lady. “Let us help you clean up this mess.” She beckoned to Evangeline. “This is my cousin I told you about. You give us a broom and a dustpan, and we’ll make things right as rain in a jiffy.” She looked up over her shoulder at Justice. “Hello, Justice. Are you going to help out or just make promises?”
He scowled at her and slid a brief glance in Evangeline’s direction, never actually focusing on her face. “Well, of course, I’m going to help, Susanna.” He pulled a pair of leather gloves from his belt and donned them. “You going to run this cleanup, or shall I?”
If Evangeline weren’t so nervous in his presence, she would laugh. Despite her diminutive size, Susanna had always been bossy and obviously hadn’t changed.
“Why, I am, of course.” She led Mrs. Winsted to a chair. “Now you sit here and catch your breath, honey, and we’ll take care of everything. Evie, honey, fetch us some of those work gloves.” She pointed to a shelf. “We’ll have Homer Bean—he’s the store clerk—put them on my tab when he gets here. Now, you two get busy.” She waved Evangeline and Justice to work.
“Guess we’d better do what she says.” Justice’s bemused expression didn’t look entirely sheriff-like.
“I guess so.” Evangeline’s heart ached to enjoy working beside him, but how could she, when by simply doing his job, he might bring an end to everything she held dear?
* * *
When Evangeline sashayed into the mercantile, Justice’s heart kicked up something fierce, and he almost walked out of the store. If not for poor Mrs. Winsted’s dire circumstances, he’d leave bossy Susanna Northam and her cousin to restore order. But after her challenge, he couldn’t shirk his duty. Besides, he might find some clues as to the identity of the vandals among rifle slugs found at the scene.
“Y’all be careful not to get cut.” Susanna took a broom and began sweeping at the front door. “The glass seems to be sprayed mostly in that direction.” She pointed toward the right side of the store where material, guns, lamps and other wares were displayed. “If we can make a path to the cash register, folks can still buy what they need. Good thing all the food is on this side.” She nodded toward the shelves behind the counter.
She continued a running commentary about what she was doing and what sorry souls those vandals were and a host of other chatter. Preferring quiet, Justice wished she’d hush up and work quietly like Evangeline. Then he saw Mrs. Winsted stand and give herself a shake.
“You’re right, Susanna. This isn’t the worst thing ever to happen to me.” The woman brushed away tears, grabbed a pair of gloves and joined the cleanup. “Thank you.”
Justice cast a questioning glance at Evangeline, who was smiling at her cousin. What had he missed?
“She’s amazing,” she whispered. “I would have sat beside Mrs. Winsted and cried with her.” She carefully picked up shards of glass from a bolt of material and dropped them into a china bowl.
Her smile did something odd to Justice’s insides. She was still as beautiful as the young girl he’d fallen in love with. Even more beautiful now that she was a woman. To cover his admiration, he shrugged and went back to work. Women sure did communicate differently than men did.
He heard a soft intake of breath and jerked his attention back to Evangeline, an odd little fear crowding into him. “Did you cut yourself?”
“No.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “I just remembered. Today’s your birthday.”
He scowled. “I suppose so. I don’t really pay much attention anymore.” And yet his chest expanded with foolish pleasure because she recalled it. To deflect her regard before she could say more and have the others notice, he added, “I seem to recall it’s also your anniversary. Same day you got married back in ’76?”
She winced. More than winced. More like cowered. Here she was trying to be nice, and he’d reminded her of Lucius’s death. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure you miss your husband.”
Now she actually shuddered. Justice supposed a year wasn’t long enough to grieve such a significant loss. After all these years, he still grieved for his parents. If he were honest with himself, he still grieved over losing Evangeline’s love.
Nonsense. All water under the bridge.
“Please accept my belated condolences for your father’s death.” She gazed at him, her blue eyes glistening. “I didn’t know he’d died until—”
“Thanks.” He cut her off, not wanting to hear her platitudes, even if they were accompanied by tears. Instead, he bent to lift a broken kerosene lamp with a delicate flowered glass shade. “Shame about this.”
She stood silent for a moment. “Yes. A shame.” Then she went back to work.
One by one, people began to enter the business, including Homer Bean, the clerk, and most dug in right away to help. Despite the busyness, Susanna managed to introduce Evangeline to everyone, all of whom welcomed her. Despite much conversation, in about an hour, they’d cleaned up the store, and Mrs. Winsted had assessed the damages to her inventory.
“They didn’t steal anything,” she told Justice. “But some items are beyond repair.”
“You make me a list and include the cost of each one. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” Justice pocketed the slugs he’d found and fetched his hat from the front counter. “Thanks for your help, folks.” He raised his voice so all the helpers could hear him. “If you hear anything that can help me catch the culprits, let me know. I’ll arrange a reward.”
He donned his hat and strode out the door. As usual, the good people of Esperanza had come together to help one of their own. Then why did he feel downright depressed?
Easy question to answer. The woman who’d abandoned him at the moment of his greatest grief was casually weaving her way into the fabric of his town, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her.
* * *
“So you’re going to be our librarian.” Mrs. Winsted seemed nicely recovered from shock over her disaster. “Let me show you what we’ve been doing up to now.” She led Evangeline to the back of the store, where numerous books rested on several shelves. “Keeping track of these has been both a privilege and a bother, too often the latter. I don’t have time to chase people down when books are due back for the next person who wants to read them.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind my taking the books?” The last thing Evangeline wanted was to have one more person in Esperanza who held something against her. The hour working side by side with Justice nearly undid her.
“Not at all. It’s a relief.” Mrs. Winsted tilted her head toward the nearby barred window behind which were mail slots. “In addition to running my store, I’m also the postmistress, so I have plenty to do.”
“Why, yes. You were the one who knew Susanna’s maiden name and passed my letter along to her.”
“That’s right.” The lady appeared pleased to have her clever work remembered. “She was delighted to hear from you.”
They each spoke of their mutual affection for Susanna and for her father, who now lived in a small town in the southern part of the San Luis Valley with his second wife. Evangeline remembered Edward MacAndrews as a kind, loving father and uncle. What she didn’t tell Mrs. Winsted was how differently Edward Junior turned out. Once he found out his widowed father married a Mexican lady, he told all of their relatives Susanna and their father died on their trip west. When Evangeline realized she needed to flee New Orleans, she wrote to Edward in Georgia for help. He forbade her to come to Marietta but said she might find Susanna in Esperanza, Colorado. Shocked at his rejection but overjoyed to learn Susanna was alive after all, Evangeline had written to her. She’d posted the letter in a small town outside of New Orleans to throw Hugo off in case he tried to track her. But with his equally dishonest friends hiding behind every bush, she couldn’t be sure her ruse was successful.
“I’d best get back to work.” Mrs. Winsted stepped toward the counter where her clerk was busily serving customers. “Thank you for your help, everyone.”
“We were glad to do it.” Susanna approached from the other direction, her arms loaded with bolts of fabric. “Mrs. Winsted, I’ll take these. Evie and I have a lot of sewing to do.”
“But, my dear, some of them are damaged.” The storekeeper fingered the torn material. “Let me cut off the ruined parts.”
“Nonsense.” Susanna tugged the bolts away from her. “We can use all of it, even the small pieces. Lizzie and Isabelle can make clothes for their dolls, and we can make ragdolls for children coming to the Christmas party.” She winked at Evangeline, sending a private signal regarding other possible uses for the fabric. “Are you ready to see the library?”
“Yes, indeed. Mrs. Winsted, if it’s all right with you, I’ll come in on Monday and move these books to their new home.”
With all in agreement, Susanna completed her purchases, and the clerk loaded them into the back of the buggy.
Across the street and down several doors from the mercantile sat the sheriff’s office, which included the jail. As Susanna drove the buggy past it, Evangeline saw Justice through the large front window, seated at a desk and bent over his work. An involuntary shudder rippled through her.
Susanna gave her a curious glance, but nodded toward the next building, a pink stone edifice with two stories. “That’s the bank. The library’s around the corner.”
They passed a charming stone fountain in the middle of the intersection. Despite last night’s freezing temperatures, artesian water streamed from a stone pitcher held by a sculpture of a fair lady in pioneer dress.
“Here we are.” Susanna drove up to another pink stone building, this one narrow and deep, with a single story and a sign boasting Library in bold letters on the front of the flat roof.
Evangeline stepped down from the buggy and followed Susanna inside. The front room, about the size of her large front parlor back in New Orleans, was dimly lit by the two windows on either side of the front door. A wood stove stood sentinel in one back corner, with a small stack of wood beside it. A desk and chair sat near the front window, and five tables with four chairs each were placed in random fashion about the room. Wooden boxes of books were stacked in front of the shelves built into three of the room’s walls.
