The Bounty Hunter's Bride. Victoria Bylin

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      The porch started to spin. Dani grabbed the rocking chair for support, but it tipped, throwing her to her knees. As she hit the threshold, pain shot through the marrow of her bones.

      A strong hand gripped her elbow and hauled her to her feet. “Don’t faint on me, lady.”

      “I won’t.”

      As tears filled her eyes, he dragged her to a chair in the front room where she collapsed on the cushioned seat, taking in the horsehair divan and a scattering of flower petals. She smelled lilies and realized a coffin had sat in this room. Patrick…her love. An anguished cry exploded in her throat.

      The man shouted into the kitchen. “Emma! Get some water.”

      Dani pushed to her feet. She’d come to be a mother to the girls, not a burden. “I’ll be fine.”

      The man glared at her. “You don’t look fine.”

      “Who are you?” she demanded.

      Before he could answer, Patrick’s oldest daughter came into the room with the glass of water. Judging by the tight pull of Emma’s brows, she disliked this man. “Here,” she said, shoving the glass in his direction.

      He put his hands on his hips. “It’s not for me.” He indicated Dani with his chin.

      The instant the child turned, her oval face brightened with hope. “Dani?”

      “Yes, sweetie. It’s me.” Dani crossed the gap between herself and the child and offered a hug.

      Emma clung to her like moss on a tree. Long letters had made them friends over a span of months. Grief made them family in an instant. Water from the tipped glass sloshed down the back of Dani’s dress, but she didn’t care. Holding Emma brought Patrick to life. He’d written proudly of his girls. Emma, Ellie and little Esther, who’d been born on Easter Sunday. We’ll have more, Dani. I want a son. She’d written back about Edward, Ethan and Elijah. He’d countered with Earl and Ebenezer. Laughing to herself, she’d cried uncle in the next letter.

      Dani released her grip on Emma, took the glass and set it on the table. “Where are your sisters?”

      “Upstairs,” Emma said. “Esther’s taking a nap.”

      Emma, barely ten years old, had the tired eyes of a young mother. Who would take care of the girls now? Not this man with tattered clothes and bristled cheeks. As Dani turned in his direction, he paced to the front window. Standing with his feet apart, he peered through the glass, studying the sky like a man expecting a storm. Dani tried to imagine Patrick striking such a belligerent pose but couldn’t.

      The picture in her reticule showed a man with gentle eyes. He had described himself as wiry and slight, a man with the rounded shoulders of a dairy farmer. The stranger at the window stood six feet tall and ramrod straight. Judging by his stance, he bent his knee to no one.

      Dani knew better than to judge by appearances, but the stranger had declared himself to be Cain, the brother who’d surrendered to sin rather than fight for his righteousness. Cain had murdered Abel and been doomed to restless wandering. Even so, God hadn’t left Cain. Cain had abandoned God.

      Dani put her arm around Emma’s shoulders, then spoke to the man’s back. “Perhaps the three of us could sit down.”

      He faced her but stayed at the window. “I’ll stand.”

      In that case, so would Dani. “We haven’t been introduced.”

      “I’m Beau Morgan. Patrick’s brother.”

      Emma clutched a fistful of Dani’s dress. Dani took the reaction as a confirmation of a warning in Patrick’s letters. He’d mentioned his brother just once. He’s not someone you should know, Dani. Not a man I’d trust with my girls. Patrick had been vague about his brother’s shortcomings but clear about his intent. I made a will years ago, before Beau went crazy. As soon as we’re married, I’ll change it. I want you to adopt the girls.

      Dani’s throat tightened. Why had God taken Patrick now? Why not a year from now, after they were married and settled? Why not fifty years when they were old and gray? The questions rose like a vapor but vanished as quickly as morning mist on a hot day. God’s ways were higher than hers; His knowledge greater. At her mother’s funeral, Pastor Schmidt had preached from Isaiah, paraphrasing the ancient prophet. “Who among you walks in darkness and has no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord…” Dani had leaned on those words every day since her mother’s death. Isaiah had seen the future and persevered. Dani didn’t have his foresight, only her faith that God was good, but she knew how to persevere.

      She touched Emma’s cheek. “Your pa’s listening in Heaven, so I’m talking to him as well as you. No matter what happens, I won’t leave you and your sisters.”

      Did you hear that, Patrick? Rest easy, my love.

      Emma nodded in short bursts that made her eyes flicker with desperation. Dani lifted her gaze to the man at the window. What had he said to these children? Had he offered the slightest bit of reassurance? More than ever, they needed the comfort of familiar things, the promise they’d be together and that God Himself shared their grief.

      Staring back at Dani, Beau Morgan sealed his lips in a hard line, then turned back to the window. Framed by lace curtains and panes of glass, he stood with his arms crossed and his feet spread wide. If he’d been wearing boots, Dani might have been intimidated. Instead she saw a hole in the heel of his sock. A tug on the yarn would unravel the entire garment. She suspected the man’s life was in the same sorry shape and prayed he’d be eager to leave Patrick’s daughters in her care.

      Thoughts of the girls mixed with the scent of the lilies. Looking down, she squeezed Emma’s shoulders. “Can you tell me what happened?”

      Emma opened her mouth but sealed it without making a sound.

      Dani looked to the man by the window. Hate glinted in his eyes. “It was ugly. Emma doesn’t need to relive it.”

      The child shook her head. “I want to remember. He said he loved us. He said—”

      “Emma, don’t.” Beau Morgan glared at Dani. “Patrick was struck by lightning. Emma found him.”

      Dani gasped, then closed her eyes. “Dear Lord in Heaven, be with Patrick. Be will all of us.”

      The man snorted. “I wouldn’t call the Almighty ‘dear.’”

      Dani stiffened at the lack of respect. “Patrick had faith. He believed—”

      “That’s fine for him,” the man replied. “But the Almighty and I don’t see eye to eye, not anymore.”

      Emma choked on a sob. “It was my fault. I knew a storm was coming, but I didn’t tell him.”

      The man scowled. “It’s not your fault, kid. You didn’t make it rain.”

      “But I knew!” Her voice rose to a wail. “He went to see Pastor Josh about the wedding. I asked him to buy some ribbon for Esther’s dress. If he hadn’t gone to the store, he’d have been home before the storm.”

      Dani trembled СКАЧАТЬ