Scattered Petals (25 page)

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“I didn’t say it did. I simply told you why folks act the way they do. Now, tell me what you’re planning to do once you’re better.”

“I don’t know.” Priscilla’s days had been empty before, but she’d consoled herself with the knowledge that they’d be filled once the baby was born. Now the future seemed bleak.

“I’ve been praying for you,” Granny said. She gave Priscilla a smile as she added, “And for me. The Lord gave me an answer. He knows that I’m slowing down and need help, and he knows you need something to fill your life. I think he means you to be my assistant.”

Priscilla blanched. A month ago, she would have been thrilled by the invitation, but that was then. “I can’t.”

“Why not? I know you’re not afraid of blood, and you told me that you used to help your father on his rounds. This seems the perfect solution.”

“I can’t.” Priscilla clenched the chair arms as she repeated her words. “Don’t you see? Each time I helped a woman deliver her baby, it would remind me of my child and all that I lost. It would be like ripping the scab off a wound. I’ll never get better that way.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Granny began to rock again. “This might be exactly what you need to heal. Think about it. That’s all I ask.”

Zach patted Charcoal as he let him into the corral. “Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked his horse. When Charcoal snorted, Zach chuckled. It was silly to be asking a horse a question like that, just as it was silly to be so nervous. He was acting like a schoolboy, trying to impress his sweetheart. Zach shook his head slightly. The analogy wasn’t far off the mark. He was trying to impress Priscilla, or at least bring a bit of happiness into her life.

Zach reached for the gift and held it behind his back. Would she like it? That was the question. He hoped so, but he was no expert on women. Perhaps he should have bought a bauble at the mercantile. That might have been better. Perhaps he should discard these and try again on another day. But then how would he explain coming home early? Zach straightened his shoulders and strode forward. The only way he’d learn whether Priscilla liked the gift was to present it to her.

As his feet covered the distance to the house, Zach’s mind whirled with memories of the night Priscilla had suggested they end their marriage. She had claimed it would be good for him, but how could it be when the very thought wrenched his heart? An annulment was not what Zach wanted; it was not what he’d promised God he’d do. What he wanted was a life with Priscilla, a life where somehow, someway he could show her she was loved. That was why he was here, gift in hand.

He tugged the door open and looked around. The kitchen was empty. Had Priscilla gone into town? How foolish of him! He should have checked the barn to see whether the wagon was there. “Priscilla?”

When soft footsteps told him she was in the house, Zach’s heartbeat returned to normal. “You’re home early,” she said as she entered the kitchen. Perhaps it was his imagination, but she looked particularly pretty today. The green dress made her eyes look greener than usual, and she’d done something to her hair. Zach couldn’t pinpoint the difference, but it looked softer.

Furrows formed between Priscilla’s eyes as she looked at him. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Now that he knew she was here, nothing was wrong. Zach kept the arm that bore the gift behind his back. “I thought I’d spend more time with you.” The widening of her eyes told him she had not expected that. If that surprised her, how would she react when she saw the gift? There was only one way to find out.

“I brought something for you.” He extended his arm, handing Priscilla the bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked. As he released the flowers, the petals began to fall off. Zach stared at the brightly colored petals that now lay on the floor.
Oh no!
He had to be the dumbest person on Earth, bringing a present that disintegrated the instant it was indoors.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that would happen.” His gift, what was supposed to be a loving gesture, had failed. No doubt about it. He should have gone to the mercantile and bought something. His sentimental idea had been stupid.

To Zach’s amazement, Priscilla laid the remaining flowers on the table, then knelt on the floor and began to gather the petals into her hand. A broom would have made short work of it, but she was picking up each petal as if it were a pearl. When she’d retrieved them all, she rose and faced him. “Thank you, Zach. These are beautiful.” Ignoring the bouquet on the table, Priscilla smiled at the flower bits she had cupped in one palm.

“There’s no need to spare my feelings. It was a dumb idea. What do I know about flowers?” When he’d started out this morning, he’d been thinking about how much Priscilla had enjoyed their picnic among the bluebonnets. The gift was supposed to remind her of that day. Now it would remind her of what an ignorant man she’d married.

Priscilla raised her hand to her nose, as if checking the petals’ scent. There wasn’t much. Zach knew that. “They’re beautiful,” she repeated. “It’s a lovely gift. Thank you.”

“But they’re dead.”

“Not to me, they’re not.” Priscilla opened a cabinet and chose a shallow bowl. Placing the petals in it, she held the bowl out for his inspection. “See how pretty they look?”

“It just looks like scattered petals to me.”

Her smile was radiant. “Exactly. They’ll turn into potpourri.” Priscilla placed the bowl in the center of the table, acting as if he’d given her the most precious of gifts, when all it was were a few flowers that couldn’t hold onto their petals. She was being nice. Zach knew that. She’d seen his disappointment and didn’t want to hurt him further. That’s why she was pretending to care about those miserable petals.

But when Priscilla looked up at him, Zach saw happiness shining from her eyes. Genuine happiness. Her voice was soft as she said, “When I was a child, my mother used to take a single flower to my grandmother’s grave. You can imagine how proud I was when she let me carry a rose one time. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but somehow I dropped it, and the petals fell off.” Priscilla’s smile was wry as she continued. “I was devastated as only a child can be, convinced that I had done something unforgivable, but Mama told me everything would be all right. We took the petals home and she put them in a bowl, explaining that they would change color and dry and become potpourri.”

When Priscilla’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, Zach knew her memories were bittersweet. “I kept the bowl in my bedroom. Mama told me that whenever I looked at them, I should remember how beautiful the flower once was and know that nothing is completely gone so long as we have memories. I’ve loved potpourri ever since.” Priscilla smiled again as she looked at the bowl on the table. “Thank you, Zach. You’ve given me back part of my childhood.”

He blinked. Maybe he wasn’t a failure, after all.

14

Priscilla ran her finger through the petals. Though they weren’t as fragrant as roses, it was still a pleasurable experience to touch them, which was one of the reasons she had placed the bowl in the parlor rather than keeping it in her room. This way, whenever she passed through the front room, she could take a short detour and stir the potpourri. Each time she did, her thoughts turned to Zach. It had been so very kind of him to give her flowers. Though the petals were now dried and shriveled, they reminded Priscilla not just of her childhood but of the picnic she and Zach had shared in the field of bluebonnets, and that made her smile.

She touched the petals again. So many things made her smile these days, and most of them were connected to Zach. It was odd how everything worked out. Six months ago Priscilla had not met him, and now he was an important part of her life, perhaps the most important part. Six months ago she had not dreamt that the journey to Texas for Clay’s wedding would result in another wedding, hers and Zach’s. Six months ago love had been an abstract concept, something that others experienced. Now thoughts of love filled Priscilla’s days and nights, for though she’d once been uncertain, she now believed that what she felt for Zach was nothing less than love.

At the sound of hoofbeats, Priscilla’s pulse began to race, and she hurried onto the porch, hoping Zach had come home early. He did that occasionally now, acting as if he were eager to see her, and each time her heart threatened to overflow with happiness. Those extra hours together formed a chain of precious memories that she clutched to herself when she wakened in the night, shaking as the nightmare invaded her mind and rendered sleep impossible. It was then that she would force the evil thoughts away, replacing them with images of Zach’s smile and memories of the kindness he showered on her. Thanks to Zach, the nightmares had diminished in both intensity and frequency.

Her smile so broad it was almost a grin, Pricilla shaded her eyes with her hand and looked down the lane. A second later she tried to school her expression not to reveal her disappointment. The horse was a palomino, not Zach’s black stallion. The rider was blond, not black-haired. Instead of Zach, it was the Ranger, Lawrence Wood, who had entered the Lazy B.

Priscilla’s pulse slowed, thudding with apprehension rather than anticipation. Had the Ranger come to tell her that he’d found the Dunkler brothers? Though for months she had prayed they would be captured and hanged, now that the nightmares came less often, she went whole days without thinking of the bandits and, because of what she had learned from Zach, she no longer desired their deaths. She wasn’t certain how she’d feel if the Ranger told her he’d shot them.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He doffed his hat as he approached the porch. “You’re looking well.” The Ranger’s blue eyes were serious as they moved from her face down to her feet. Surely it was Priscilla’s imagination that they lingered on her stomach, as if searching for signs of the baby.

“Thank you. I’m feeling well.” There was no need to tell him what had happened, that she’d lost a large quantity of blood along with the baby. Mindful of her continuing weakness, Priscilla settled into one of the chairs and gestured toward the other, encouraging him to sit. “I’m surprised to see you again.” Despite everyone’s assurances that the Rangers always found their quarry, she hadn’t believed it nor had she expected him to take the time to report back to her.

“I wish I could tell you my job was done, but I can’t.” He stared into the distance as he said, “Unfortunately, I’ve had no luck in finding Jean-Michel Ladre. He’s a wily one and more dangerous than I thought at first. But I feel like I’m close to the Dunkler brothers. They’re getting careless, probably because they figure I’ve given up hunting them.” The Ranger’s lips thinned. “I won’t do that. I promise you, I will not stop until they’re brought to justice.”

Priscilla nodded. “I’ll rest easier knowing they’re in jail and can’t hurt anyone else.” For the first few weeks, all Priscilla could think of was punishing the men who’d killed her parents. An eye for an eye, or in this case, a life for a life. It had been Zach who’d spoken to her of the futility of revenge, telling her how, as a result of his time in Perote, he’d vowed to never again kill a man.

Though she’d been disbelieving at first, gradually Priscilla’s anger had subsided, replaced by the knowledge that Zach was right. Nothing could undo the damage that had been wrought. Whether Jake and Chet Dunkler lived or died, she had to live with the memories of her parents’ deaths and Zeke’s attack. If she was fortunate, those memories would continue to fade. While it was still important that the Ranger capture the bandits, the reason had changed. No longer did Priscilla seek vengeance. Instead, she wanted the assurance that no one else would suffer as she had.

“They’re scoundrels, no better than the varmints every rancher kills. They deserve to be hunted down and shot like coyotes.” Though the Ranger’s voice was filled with anger, Priscilla saw something in his eyes, something that—if she had to describe it—she would have called a haunted look. “Part of me wants to shoot them on sight, but the other part knows that no matter how vile their crimes were, they deserve a fair trial, not like . . .”

He bit off whatever he was going to say, and Priscilla sensed his discomfort. As strange as it seemed, his expression reminded her of Zach when he spoke of his time in Perote. Surely the Ranger had experienced nothing so horrible. Trying to allay his discomfort, Priscilla gave him a small smile. “It seems to me that one of the best things about being a Ranger is that you have a life of adventure. That’s what I always longed for. Although it didn’t turn out the way I had planned, adventure was one of the reasons I wanted to come West.”

The Ranger shrugged, as if dismissing her sentiments. “You may not believe me, but adventure loses its appeal after a while. At least that’s what’s happened to me. I’m thinking about leaving the Rangers once I bring the Dunkler brothers in.”

Priscilla didn’t try to hide her surprise. Though she knew he had a name, whenever she thought of the man who had rescued her, he was simply “The Ranger.” That was his identity. How could he give it up? “What will you do?”

His lips quirked in an ironic smile. “That’s the problem. I don’t know. I can’t picture myself as a rancher, and I sure as shootin’ can’t imagine being cooped up in a store all day. I tell myself there has to be something I can do, but at this point, I’m not sure what it is.”

A mockingbird squawked from a nearby tree, its raucous call suggesting it had an opinion to share. Though Priscilla managed a small smile for the bird, which was hopping from one branch to another, her smile faded as she considered the Ranger’s dilemma. “I know what you mean. I keep wondering what purpose my life serves.” Both Mama and Papa had stressed that God had placed everyone on Earth for a reason.

“I’m surprised you’d say that.” The Ranger’s eyes moved toward her waist. “Soon you’ll be a mother. No matter how this baby got started, raising a child is a mighty fine purpose for a life.”

Priscilla bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. Though she hadn’t planned to tell him what had happened, there was no point in lying. Besides, if he went into Ladreville, someone might tell him. The Ranger might as well hear it from her. “There won’t be a baby. Not anymore.”

Blood rushed to his face, and he dropped his gaze, clearly embarrassed by the mention of such a personal matter. “Then there’s no reason . . .” He stopped abruptly, his face coloring again. When he spoke, he said only, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Though the words seemed perfunctory, there was no mistaking the speculative look in the Ranger’s eyes. What, Priscilla wondered, had he meant to say? There was no reason for
what
?

Zach was whistling as he rode into Ladreville. Today was a good day. If truth be told, most days had been good ones, starting with the afternoon he’d given Priscilla those silly wildflowers. Who would have believed that a few well-past-their-peak Indian blankets and verbenas would have made her so happy? All he’d hoped for was to add a bit of pleasure to her life. Instead, it appeared that the flowers had been a turning point. She had been visibly happier since that day, and he . . . he was happier too.

Zach looked up at the sky. It was another of those beautiful May mornings that made a man glad he was alive. Far from marring the scene, the puffy clouds that drifted slowly across the sky served to highlight the faultless blue. It was a day to celebrate life, and Zach did, though his heart was still saddened by the loss of the baby.

Though he had said little to Priscilla, not wanting to increase her sorrow, Zach had mourned the death more deeply than he’d thought possible. He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but the prospect of raising a child had changed from a duty he had assumed into something he had anticipated with great joy. Like Clay, who found immense happiness in being a father to Thea, Zach had looked forward to being a father to Priscilla’s child. This time, he had resolved, he would not repeat his youthful mistakes. He would be a father, a good father. But the chance had been taken from him, and he knew it would not be repeated.

Though Zach wanted nothing more than to make Priscilla his wife in deed as well as word, that would not happen. The damage the bandits had wrought was too extensive. Even though she was more comfortable around him, Priscilla was always careful to keep a distance between them. It would take a miracle for her to welcome his touch and a double miracle for her to willingly touch him.

Zach frowned, then forced his lips to curve upward. There was no point in railing at something he could not change. Instead, he would rejoice in Priscilla’s recovery and the knowledge that her spirit was healing as well as her body.

Michel Ladre was not smiling. Though Zach greeted him amicably when he met him on the street in front of the post office, the mayor scowled. “What do you mean it’s a good day? I’ve seen better.” Michel gestured toward the building that held his office and the town’s one jail cell on the first floor, his residence on the second. “Might as well come in. I trust you not to gossip, but I can’t say that about the rest of Ladreville.”

Zach remained silent until they were both seated, knowing from experience that Michel did not like to be interrupted. “I wish that Ranger would mind his own business,” the town’s founder muttered as he took the chair next to Zach.

Zach tried to mask his surprise. Though he’d been in this office numerous times, this was the first time the mayor had sat anywhere other than behind his desk. Still, the seating arrangement was trivial compared to Michel’s words. “Lawrence Wood was here?” Zach’s spirits soared when he remembered that the Ranger had promised to return after he’d captured the Dunkler brothers. The news that they were behind bars would reassure Priscilla and accelerate her healing.

Michel nodded. “He was here, all right, poking around, asking questions about my son. He never finds anything, because there’s nothing to find, but he sure does worry my wife.”

Zach did not share the mayor’s belief in his son’s innocence. The night he and Clay had caught Jean-Michel robbing a house had convinced Zach that Jean-Michel was not a petty thief but a dangerously disturbed young man.

“Horse thievery is a serious accusation in Texas.”

Michel pounded the desk. “That’s not all that confounded Ranger is accusing my son of.” He glared at Zach. “And, no, I won’t tell you what he said today. It’s all lies. But thanks to his lies, Jeannette is heartbroken. She says she can’t hold her head up in public. She thinks everyone will point fingers.”

It appeared the mayor’s wife felt the way Priscilla had a few months ago and feared that she would be shunned for something she had not done. Zach gave Michel the same counsel he’d shared with Priscilla. “I can’t believe the townspeople would be so cruel.” When Michel looked dubious, Zach added, “They respect you.”

“Do they, or do they simply fear me?” The question surprised Zach. Introspection was not something he’d ever associated with the town’s mayor. Michel was charismatic, opinionated, occasionally domineering, but introspective? Not that Zach had seen.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently,” Michel admitted, “and I’m not proud of what I learned. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

“We all have.” Zach certainly had. “That’s the unfortunate part of being human.”

Michel stared at the wall where his prized maps of the Old Country hung. “Jeannette thinks we need to leave Ladreville. I’m beginning to agree with her.”

Though he’d mentioned that once before, Zach had thought it nothing more than a passing fancy. “If you left, we wouldn’t have a mayor, or a sheriff, for that matter.”

Michel’s shrug telegraphed his lack of concern. “The town will find someone.” He turned to look at Zach. “Why not you? You’d make a good mayor.”

It was a morning for surprises. “Me? Never. Two ranches are enough for me.”

“Two ranches and a wife.” Michel nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re wiser than I was. You’re sensible enough that your wife won’t feel neglected.”