Cowboy Seeks a Bride. Louise M. Gouge

tell him to speak up. Fortunately her little sister didn’t seem so inclined. Laurie still sat at the piano, and even though she wasn’t playing she didn’t appear to be eavesdropping.

      “I was wondering,” he said, “if you would accompany me on a picnic—you and Mrs. Foster? We can go down by the river, enjoy the scenery and see what our housekeeper fixed for us. She’s a great cook.” He glanced at Mrs. Foster. “Of course, not as good as you, ma’am.”

      “Thank you, dear boy.” Her beaming face showed how much she appreciated his words. How she must miss hearing her husband praise her cooking. “Rita is quite young, but she’ll improve with a bit more experience.” She looked between the two of them. “Thank you for inviting me to chaperone your outing. Unfortunately, on Saturdays, my teaching schedule and my organ practice for tomorrow’s service keep me from accepting.”

      Was that relief he saw on Marybeth’s face? Dismay wound through Rand’s chest. Was she all that set against being with him? So much for Susanna’s brilliant idea about courting.

      * * *

      Marybeth tried to hide her relief over Mrs. Foster’s refusal. The last thing she wanted was to have the older lady present when she asked Rand how serious he was about helping her find Jimmy. Bless her kind heart, the lady was a gossip, as their late talk last night had revealed. She wasn’t in the least malicious, but stated outright that folks had a right to know what was going on in their community. While Marybeth couldn’t disagree, she didn’t want her private business spread all over town and who knew where else. She must be the one who told Jimmy about Mam and Da being dead, an important piece of news she now wished she hadn’t told Mrs. Foster. Yet how could she have kept it from her?

      She scrambled around in her mind to think of a public place to go with Rand, a place where she’d feel safe or could walk away if need be. Perhaps that park she’d seen across from the church—

      “If you need a chaperone, I’ll go with you.” Laurie lowered the fallboard over the piano keys and stood. “Before Maisie and Doc got married, I always tagged along to keep things proper.” She gathered her music and put it in a leather satchel. “Since Tolley’s busy and all, I can go fishing and see if the trout are biting.” She gave Rand a look Marybeth couldn’t quite discern. “Sort of planned to do that anyway.”

      Relief and amazement struck Marybeth at the same time. The Lord was still guiding her life in His mysterious way. While Laurie fished, she and Rand could talk privately.

      “That’s real nice, Laurie.” Rand gave Marybeth a doubtful look. “Of course, if you had plans...”

      “Not at all.” She must have sounded too eager, because Rand’s sad expression turned upside down. Gracious, he was handsome when he smiled. Handsome when he frowned, too, but of course smiles were much better. “Just let me change into something more suitable.”

      It didn’t take her five minutes to slip out of her plain blue gingham and into her brown traveling skirt and white shirtwaist. Mrs. Foster offered her the use of a broad-brimmed straw hat to protect her complexion from the sun, and she carried her parasol for extra shade and a shawl in case a breeze came up. In a short time, they were on their way north toward the Rio Grande.

      Marybeth sat next to Rand in his buggy, with Laurie riding her horse alongside them. Each time they went over a bump, Marybeth’s shoulder jolted against his upper arm, and she could feel the solid muscles beneath the blue plaid sleeve. How pleasant that might have been if they were truly courting. Or if he weren’t wearing that gun strapped to his right leg. Did he always wear it, even to church? She’d find out tomorrow.

      The road smoothed out north of Esperanza and they picked up speed. Marybeth gazed east across the wide, flat valley toward the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. On the left, the San Juan range appeared nearer. Was Jimmy someplace up there? Or was she on a fool’s errand?

      “Thinking about your brother?” Rand offered that lopsided grin that made her silly heart skip. Or maybe it was his insightful question that moved her.

      “Yes.” She looked away from him toward the east again and brushed at sudden tears, hoping he hadn’t seen them. “After all these years, I can’t believe I’m this close. At least close to where his letter came from. Is Del Norte far? That’s where he mailed it.”

      “Not far.” For some reason he gave a little shudder at the mention of the next town over. “It’s a long day’s trip there and back.”

      “You go there often?”

      His jaw tightened. “Haven’t been there in three years.”

      Her question had bothered him, but why? Did it have something to do with his killing a man? Should she press the issue or let it go? With Laurie now riding twenty yards ahead, her long red hair swaying with the movement of her horse, she wouldn’t hear their conversation. Perhaps the time had come for Marybeth to tell him what Maisie had said. His response would reveal a great deal about his character.

      * * *

      Rand knew God was pushing him to tell her about killing Cole Lyndon. He’d planned to do so today, but had hoped for a more comfortable setting, like after they both had full stomachs.

      “Three years. That’s a long time for such a close town.” Marybeth spoke simply, with no apparent meaning behind her words. “Especially since Mrs. Foster tells me Del Norte has more places to shop than Esperanza.”

      Had Mrs. Foster told her anything else? He’d better hurry or everyone in the area would blurt out their own version of the story about the worst day of his life.

      “I don’t go over there because I used to gamble, and I don’t want to be tempted.” Those were the words of a coward sneaking in the back door.

      Marybeth eyed him with surprise and maybe a bit of worry. “Gambling? You used to gamble?”

      “Yes, ma’am.” He gave a little shrug, bumping her slender shoulder without meaning to. It made his arm buzz pleasantly, but how did she feel about it? From her frown, he guessed she was thinking about the gambling and hadn’t even noticed. “I had a real bad experience the last time I played poker and decided it wasn’t the best way to spend my time.”

      “Tell me what happened.”

      Still frowning, she narrowed her eyes and now he could tell for certain she already knew the answer.

      He pulled in a deep breath and exhaled long and slow. This was so hard. Should he explain that the man he’d killed had bragged about robbing and beating Susanna’s father and leaving him for dead? That the gold lying on the table between them had come from selling the old man’s horses? That the man and his partner had already cheated at that very card game? That Rand and his pal Seamus were about to quit anyway? Excuses, all of them. If he’d had a lick of sense, he’d have just walked away from the table that day and found the sheriff. A sick feeling rose up in his gullet.

      “I killed a man.”

      She barely blinked, just looked away from him toward the river ahead. “I see.”

      “Maisie told you, didn’t she?”

      Marybeth nodded, still not looking his way. “She said you’re a hero because the man was a horse thief who’d done his own share of killing.”

      He shrugged again, this time taking care not to touch her. “That still doesn’t excuse it. Instead of losing my temper, I should have let the law handle him.”

      She looked his way, tears rimming her eyes. “So you regret it.” Not a question, a statement. Maybe she understood.

      “I do. Deeply.”

      She set her long, gloved fingers on his forearm. This time her touch imparted an odd sort of reassurance. “Have you asked God for forgiveness?”

      A grim laugh escaped him. “Every day.”

      “Then you must believe He has forgiven you.”

      *