A Promise in Defiance: Romance in the Rockies Book 3 (24 page)

McIntyre glanced up at
Two Spears sitting at the kitchen table with them, a cookie in his hand. However,
he had not taken a bite of it. Instead, he watched his father with an
inscrutable face.

Nothing could have made
McIntyre feel worse. His bent for violence had shown the boy all the wrong things.
Certainly, nothing Christ like. He wondered where was the difference between
his own father, One-Who-Cries, and the old Charles McIntyre?

“I have a long way to
go, Naomi. I am not sure I will ever get there.”

Naomi sighed and capped
the bottle. She stared at it for a moment then looked at McIntyre. “
‘For the
good that I would, I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do.’”

Paul again. McIntyre
had so much in common with the apostle, but he wasn’t sure of Naomi’s point.
Perhaps a puzzled brow betrayed his thoughts.

She squeezed his hand. “You’re
not alone. We all struggle against doing the things we hate, and yet we don’t
do the good we know we should. But we don’t give up. We ask forgiveness. We
move on.
‘Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a
good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.’
”

“He needs to teach me
how to let go then.” He sat back, dragging his hand across the table. “I want
to fix everything. Mete out justice. Set the punishment—”

“Give Him time. You’re
a . . . complicated project.”

He almost laughed but
couldn’t quite find his sense of humor. “Two Spears, I am sorry if I frightened
you. I should not have beaten that man. I want to be a man of peace.” A man who
steps down from the throne and lets God have His seat back. “It is difficult.”

“Why? Why must you not
fight?”

“Because when we fight,
we are trying to settle matters on our own, rather than trusting God to settle
them. Vengeance is His, not ours. And too, fighting certainly does not show
love for our fellow man.”

Two Spears exhaled
heavily. “Do you never fight then?”

“No, I believe there
are times when we must stand up, but . . .” When? Frustrated,
McIntyre pinched the sweat from his upper lip. “We should try to determine God’s
leading before we act . . . I suppose.” He faded off, revealing
his own confusion.

“The more time you
spend with Him,” Naomi said gently, “the easier it will be to hear His voice.”

McIntyre rolled his
shoulder. “Apparently I went stone deaf today.”

Naomi rose and took the
bottle of witch hazel. On her way to the counter, she stopped behind McIntyre. “He
still loves you . . . and so do I.”

One of the most
profound moments in McIntyre’s life had occurred a year earlier when he
accidentally discovered Naomi praying down by the river in town. She had
spoken, or more correctly,
fumed
at God. Argued with him even. But,
finally, she had surrendered.

Now, as he wandered by
moonlight along the banks of that same river, he wanted to pray exactly as she
had—as if God were standing right in front of him.

“I am lost, Lord.” He
picked up a stone and cast it at the water. Not surprisingly, it sank instead
of skipping. “For so long, Defiance was my kingdom. I ran it . . .
I killed for it. For my glory. My purposes. Now when I want to see it move
forward so that it can benefit, bless, others, You have given me an obstacle I
have no idea how to get around. Me.”

He ambled over to a
boulder, but didn’t sit. Instead, he studied the magnificent San Juan Mountains
washed in the mystical silver of the summer moon. The mooing and snorting of
the cattle floated like a song on the air, accompanied by the melancholy
yipping of a coyote on the prowl.

He folded his arms
against the chill and recalled with a smile Two Spears and Naomi’s horse race
the other day across that far pasture. Their winsome laughter and unfettered
joy had brought an unexpected tightening to his throat.

“I do not deserve any
of this yet look what You have given me. And I want to protect it. My family.
The town.” He kicked a rock. “I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.” Beating Cloer
to within an inch of his life. Trying to handle Delilah on his own. That visit
accomplished nothing. 

“But don’t I have an
obligation to …?”
Throw my weight around?
“I cannot do the things I used
to, not if I call myself . . . Your follower.” He stumbled over
the word, because he wanted to follow, but the position did not come naturally
to him. He admitted he was tired of leading all the time, especially now that
he knew
Whom
he should follow.

Oh, but change didn’t
come easily. He’d held on tight for so long, leaned solely on his own
understanding his whole life. “How
do
I let go? How will I know when to
lead? When to fight?”

After a long moment, the
answer came drifting to him on the breeze, whispering gently into his heart.

To lead, you have to
serve. To fight, you have to kneel.

Nodding, he bowed his
head and slipped to his knees, desperate for more of God.

Naomi grabbed Two
Spears by the shoulder and pulled him back. “Shhh. We don’t want to disturb
him.” The sight of her husband with his arms open in submission, eyes searching
the heavens, brought tears to her own. Charles sat and listened when she
prayed. Paid attention and asked questions after a sermon or when she read a
scripture, but this was the first time she’d seen him . . . broken.
Surrendered.

“A man on his knees is
weak,” Two Spears muttered.

Naomi shook her head. “No.
That’s when he’s the strongest.”

Grinning like a lovestruck
fool, Hannah slid her fingers slowly out of Billy’s grasp as they parted at the
door of the mercantile. “I’ll be back at noon to get him.”

Billy bounced his son
on his arm and winked at her. “Take your time. This young man and I have a lot
we can do today. I’m interviewing for help in the store, and I have a meeting
at the hotel. Tell Momma no hurry.” Little Billy babbled happily. “What’s that?
She needs to give us a kiss good-bye? I think you’re absolutely right.”

Billy waited
expectantly, that roguish smile of his melting Hannah’s heart. How could she
refuse? She planted a peck on his mouth, but he followed her, not letting their
lips separate. He slipped his hand behind her head and deepened the kiss,
sending a hot flush to her cheeks.

Savoring
the electricity he loosed in her, she kissed him once more then retreated to
the safety of her son. She pressed her lips to the back of his neck. “I’ll see
you later.” He responded with a giggle and hid his face in his father’s chest.

“I love you,” Billy
whispered to her.  

She mussed his
perfectly combed hair. “I love you more.” Giggling, she cast him a flirtatious
glance and bounced off the porch, then crossed the street to Doc’s with a
spring in her step. She couldn’t have felt any lighter if she were skipping on
clouds.

Humming a random tune,
she let herself into Doc’s. “Good mor—” She immediately spied the tray of
instruments scattered across the floor and froze. “Doc?”

Hannah listened for an
instant then stepped inside and surveyed the room. Along with the instruments,
a chair lay on its side. The door to examination room two was cracked. “Doc?”
Fear thrumming in her veins, she hurried to the door and slowly pushed it open.

He lay sprawled across
the bed, face pale, lips blue, and obvious bruising on his cheeks and throat.

Hannah stared out the
window of Doc’s office, all her crying done. She would miss the man terribly,
but sobbing like a baby wasn’t helping anyone. Now the anger was seeping in.

Billy came up behind
her and wrapped her in a huge, warm hug. “Are you all right?”

“Who would do this?”
She leaned into him, comforted by his broad chest and strong arms. “Doc was a
good man. Everybody liked him—” she bit that off. Not everyone. Smith and
Shelby didn’t care for him, but did they dislike him enough to kill him?

“What is it, Hannah?”

Was it worth
mentioning? “Smith and Shelby were in here a while back. Doc had to pull his
scalpel on Shelby. He was misbehaving.”

“Really?” Billy sounded
interested. “We should tell the marshal.”

“Tell me what?”
Beckwith stepped out of the examination room and strode up to them, his boots
thudding like thunder.

“I sewed Smith up, I
don’t know, a month or so ago. Shelby was with him and they got a little out of
hand. Doc pulled a scalpel on them to remind ’em of their manners.”

Beckwith rubbed his
wide, bony jaw. “I don’t know. Doc’s got bruises. Somebody attacked him, beat
on him pretty good, but not enough to kill him, unless I’m missing something.
Looks more like he had a heart attack. He could have died during or even after
the attack.” Absently, he tapped the star on his chest as he thought. “I’m just
not sure.”

Hannah couldn’t offer a
guess. Her heart broke. She couldn’t imagine Defiance without the kindly old
curmudgeon. Suddenly the door flew open and Wade skidded in. “Marshal, we got
another one. Somebody shot Big Jim Walker. He’s dead too.”

Delilah rolled the
stiffness from her shoulders as she watched the sunrise from her window. She
had not slept well. The more she ruminated on Logan and McIntyre, the angrier
she got.

All her life, her
choices, her decisions, had been dictated by men. Telling her where to go, what
to do, when to do it. Even now, she couldn’t simply enjoy running The Crystal
Chandelier. No. She had to pay her debt to Matthew. She wanted her revenge on
Logan. She also wanted Sai Shang back, or her reputation was going to suffer.
More than anything, she
wanted
to hurt Logan, but she
needed
to
stop acting like a scorned woman.

She reminded herself to
think rationally, like a business woman; lay emotion aside and look at the
situation pragmatically. She needed to deal with the disappearance of Sai Shang
first. If one girl got away, others would think they could escape. 

A sharp tap on her door
ended her reverie, but she didn’t turn from the window. “Come in.”

The door clicked and
boots stomped into her room. “Your breakfast.”

Smith’s voice startled
her and she spun. “Where’s Mary Jean? She brings me my breakfast.”

Her hired man stood
holding her a silver tray covered with a cloth. “I have some news for ya, so I
brought it up.” He walked the meal over to her unmade bed. “This all right?”

“Yes.” Delilah was not
pleased to see that Smith had bathed, shaved, and was wearing new clothes—ridiculously
loud checkered pants. Three days and he had no idea where Sai Shang was hiding,
but he’d had time to go shopping?

On a low boil, she
ambled over and sat down, removing the cloth. “What do you want to tell me?”
She surveyed her breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, grits, and picked up half a
slice of toast covered in strawberry jam.

Smith moved as if to
sit on the bed and Delilah lifted a brow. He raised his hands and backed away
from the bed. “I just thought you’d like to know the, uh, questioning of Big
Jim did lead me to Doc’s.”

“Doc’s? Good.” She
dipped the corner of the toast in her coffee. “And?”

He tugged on his collar.
“The information ain’t all that clear. So Big Jim was seen with the Preacher
and a kid named Emilio. They took the girl to Doc’s. We don’t know what
happened after that.”

“Well, what did Doc
say?”

Smith shoved his hands
into his pockets and sighed. “Bastard died on us before we could beat any
information out of him.”

Delilah bit through her
toast and froze, fighting the rage welling up inside her. “Died? What kind of
condition did you leave Big Jim in?”

“Uh, well . . .
he’s dead too.”

Growling, Delilah
snatched up her coffee cup and reared back to toss it across the room,
splattering the drink on her bed. “We might’ve needed him!” She stopped short
of throwing it. Seeing a little light in the darkness, she slowly set the cup
on the tray and stood. “On the other hand, maybe that’s not so bad. They know
we’re not playing patty-cake now.” She was no closer, however, to finding Sai
Shang. Smith and Shelby had not looked in the most obvious place. “If they took
her to Doc’s, and she’s not there, try the church.”

“Yeah, all right.”

“And put the word out.
Free beer on Sunday mornings.” A mere dig, but a fun one.

“All right.” Smith
frowned, looking confused.

“This isn’t the first
town that’s tried to shut me down, Smith. McIntyre and Logan have asked for the
fight. We’ll give them one. You and Shelby have things off to a fine start.”

“So you ain’t stopping
with free beer.”

“Stopping? Oh, honey,”
she raked her gaze over to the window and out at the rooftops and tents of
Defiance, “I’m just gettin’ started.”