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Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray

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BOOK: The Loyal Heart
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28

T
HE CLERK HAD A PISTOL TRAINED ON
M
IRANDA
. H
ER
eyes were wide with fright and glued on Robert.

Obviously waiting for him to do something. To save her.

That moment, all training, experience, and common sense flew out the window. “Don't do it, Winter!” Robert called as he raced into the room.

His exclamation seemed to be all anyone needed to push them forward. Devin cursed behind him, then cocked his own pistol and trained it on Winter.

Miranda shifted and pulled at her hands, which Robert now realized were tied to an old pipe.

And Winter pivoted and turned his gun on them. His hand was trembling. Right then and there, Robert figured there was only a fifty-percent chance that the clerk could hit either him or Devin.

That clerk's insecurity and nervousness was all Robert needed to calm down and focus. “Put the gun down, Kyle. You do not want to hurt anyone.”

“We've all hurt people. This isn't any different than what happened to my brother in Virginia.”

“It's everything different,” Devin called out, his voice perfectly
composed and his dark eyes looking completely cool and unemotional. “Your brother died in war. On the battlefield. You are harming an innocent woman.”

Winter shook his head, his gun waving with the motion. “I wasn't allowed to fight,” he declared with a pained expression. “My brother, my parents, even the doctors said I was too unfit. Too unhealthy.” His voice cracked. “Can you even believe that? The South needed everyone. Every able man. Boys volunteered! Everyone but me. And then he died.”

“Don't dishonor him by behaving in this manner, then,” Devin said. “If you want to serve the South, don't start shooting innocent women and soldiers who already gave so much for our cause.”

“I have no choice.” Turning back to Miranda, he said, “Her husband betrayed my brother. Her husband shared secrets and spied.” Lowering his voice, he said, “Somebody needs to pay. But still, here she is, living in his grand house, smiling at the Yankees who give her money to stay there. Flirting with men. She deserves nothing. And since my brother is dead, I have to be the one to take care of her.”

“Killing her won't change the outcome of the war, son,” Captain Monroe said as he edged forward. “The hard truth is that our side lost. All of us on both sides of the Mason-Dixon are grieving for people we buried. There probably isn't a person in this country who hadn't wished and prayed for more men to have survived the war. However, that wasn't what the Lord intended to happen.”

“What does God want? Do we even know?” As if his right arm was paining him, Winter lowered it. The Colt now hung limply in his hand. Still cocked and ready to go off at any second.

“He wants us to value what we still have,” Robert answered, realizing as he spoke that he was sure about his answer. “God wants us to find solace in each other. To remember to give thanks
for what we have. To love the people we care about and show kindness to people we don't. He wants us to live and breathe and learn from our past.” Taking a fortifying breath, he added, “He does not want us to find retribution. That is for him to do, not us.”

Kyle's eyes filled with tears. For a brief second, Robert felt hope, hoped that he'd said something that would have struck a chord with him and defused the situation.

But then Kyle inhaled sharply and shook his head. “No!” he shouted as he raised his gun again.

And pointed it directly at Robert.

“No!” Miranda called out just as a shot rang out.

It came from Devin.

When Kyle Winter collapsed, Robert knew he'd died instantly.

Out of habit, Robert put the safety back on his revolver and slid it back into the waistband of his jeans, nestled in the small of his back. Then he ran to Miranda.

Thick tears were racing down her cheeks. “Oh, Robert. I was so scared. I was afraid he was going to kill you.”

“Thanks to Devin, he did not.” Kneeling by her side, Robert brushed some of her tears away, then gave in to temptation and kissed her cheek. “I was afraid for the same thing. I was afraid he was going to take you from me. I have never been more scared.”

As her tears continued to flow, he reached for his knife. “Let's get you free.”

Two sharp swipes with his knife freed her. The moment the rope fell to the ground, he inspected her wrists. Her tender skin had been rubbed raw and was bleeding. Her wrists were bruised and swollen. When she cried out in pain, Robert suddenly wished he had been the one to pull the trigger. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered as he gently enfolded her in his arms.

“How is she? Will she be all right?” Devin asked. While
Robert had been freeing Miranda from her bindings, his captain had knelt at Winter's side.

Still holding her protectively, Robert said, “I think so.” Leaning back a little so he could see her face, he asked, “Miranda, did he hurt you anywhere else?”

“No. I'm a little bruised, but beyond my wrists, I'm unharmed.” Releasing a ragged sigh she said, “I honestly think he was trying to get up the nerve to kill me.”

“Thank the Lord he couldn't summon the will to do that,” Devin replied.

“No, thank the good Lord that you both found me in time.” Treating them both to a watery smile, she said, “I was willing to do whatever it took to survive, but I was frightened half to death.”

When she shuddered again, Robert enfolded her back in his arms and held her close. “You okay?” he asked Devin.

“Me? Yeah.” Looking toward Winter, he added grimly, “It gave me no pleasure to end his life, but I am grateful he didn't harm either of you.”

“Not as grateful as I am,” Robert replied. “I owe you.”

Looking grim, he shook his head. “You owe me nothing, Robert. I've lost enough people I care about. I'm in no hurry to lose one more. Keeping you and Miranda alive was a selfish move on my part.”

Robert was about to say he understood when they heard the pounding of footsteps on the stairs. Turning, his body went on alert again as he loosened his hold on Miranda.

But instead of moving away from him, Miranda clung. “Who do you think that could be?” she asked.

He didn't bother to reply as he continued to stare at the doorway. There was no telling who was coming to join them, but the chance that it was yet another person out for trouble was high.

“Get down,” he ordered as he freed his gun. To his relief, she didn't question him, but simply did as he asked.

Devin had already pulled out his Colt again. His face impassive, he slowly lifted his right arm and watched the empty doorway.

The pounding on the wood floor grew louder.

When it was obvious the intruders were men and they were heading their way, Robert exhaled and cocked his gun.

The moment two men appeared with guns drawn, Robert uttered, “Right,” just as he placed his finger on the trigger.

“Don't shoot!” Kern called out.

Robert had already pulled the trigger. He only had time to raise his arm so the bullet pierced the wall above them. Behind him, Miranda gasped.

“Easy, now,” Kern said. He, as well as his deputy, looked visibly shaken.

Robert dropped his arm with a wince. He'd almost killed a lawman. Unable to help himself, he swore under his breath. When he felt Miranda's reassuring hand, he glanced her way. “You okay?”

Her blue eyes were tinged with worry, but she gifted him with a tremulous smile. “Yes.”

Now that he was reassured, he laced his fingers with hers, then turned his attention back to the other men.

Beside him, Devin was complaining. “You almost got yourself killed, Sheriff.”

“I kind of noticed that.”

“I kind of noticed that you were nowhere to be found when we got here. Where have you been?”

“Trying to track down the four of you,” Kern said. “I think we went to every single run-down and abandoned building except for this one.”

“I've seen more rats today than I care to admit,” his deputy complained.

“We saw our fair share of rats ourselves,” Devin said.

Kern's eyes narrowed. “Is that right?” Looking from Miranda, who was clinging to Robert's arm, to Robert himself, to Devin, he started to speak, then stilled as it became obvious that he had finally located Kyle Winter.

He was lying facedown on the floor behind them in a pool of blood.

Kern walked over to the body, crouched down, and pulled on Winter's shoulder, rolling him over. Winter's gun was lying next to his hand. “Looks like he was armed.”

“He was seconds away from shooting Miranda,” Devin said. “Then when he pointed his gun at Robert . . . I had no choice. I shot to kill.”

The deputy whistled low.

Robert curved an arm around Miranda, who was now trembling again. Holding her closer, he whispered in her ear. “Don't look.”

While Miranda kept her face hidden, Robert eyed both Winter's body and Kern's reaction.

After a moment, Kern lumbered to his feet. “Looks like you two men took care of things for me.” He raised his eyebrows. “Can't wait to hear what happened.”

“I'll be glad to fill you in, Kern,” Robert said. “But after I get Miranda home safely and tend to her hands and wrists.”

“That works with me. I'll walk back with y'all. I'm going to need to ask Mrs. Markham some questions. I'd prefer to get those out of the way so I don't have to bother her again.”

The last thing she needed at the moment was to be pestered. “Sheriff, I think tomorrow will be soon enough.”

“No, tonight will be fine,” Miranda interrupted. “I'm not made of spun glass, Robert,” she said into his ear. “And besides, I have a feeling our sheriff is going to want to check on someone else at my home.”

“Point taken.” Looking at Kern, Robert nodded. “Yeah, come on with us.”

Kern turned to his deputy and pointed to Winter's body. “Take care of this,” he said before gesturing for Miranda, Robert, and Devin to lead the way out of the loft.

Just before they started down the stairs, Kern said, “The more I learned about Kyle Winter, the more I started to worry about y'all. That man was a loose cannon. Though I would have liked to have put him on trial, I'm not disappointed to be spared that undertaking.” Looking their way again, he said, “I really am glad you all survived this ordeal relatively unscathed.”

Devin Monroe smiled. “Truax and I made a promise to each other long ago. We take care of our own.”

Kern smiled in return. “It seems your loyalty knows no bounds.”

29

A
LMOST TWO HOURS LATER
, M
IRANDA WAS SITTING ON
the sofa in her parlor beside Robert. The moment they'd returned home, all four servants had rushed to her side.

Upon seeing her condition, Belle—who had just returned from Major Kelly's bedside—ushered Miranda to her room. Once there, Belle had helped her change into a fresh gown.

Cook arrived mere moments after that with a pitcher of warm water and some rags. While sitting at her dressing table, the two women had gently bathed Miranda's wrists and wrapped them in the clean cotton.

“I don't think you will scar, ma'am,” Cook said with a frown at her wrapped wrists. “Though your left looks pretty bad, I'm afraid.”

Miranda had to agree. Both of her wrists were swollen, bruised, and cut. However, her left one looked the worst. “It's a small price to pay for surviving that experience,” she said with a shudder. “I was so afraid. I felt certain Mr. Winter was going to kill me today.”

“Those men are true heroes, they are,” Cook said.

“I owe them my life,” Miranda agreed. She'd given Cook and Belle a brief account of her ordeal while they'd cleaned her wounds.

“They did save you, but I think you saved yourself, too, Mrs. Markham,” Belle said. “You didn't give up.”

Another time, Miranda probably would have pushed aside any praise. But at this moment, she was feeling glad that she had been as brave as she possibly could. “I'm so glad I didn't give up. And now I just need to give my statement to Sheriff Kern.”

“Would you like me to stay with you, ma'am?” Belle asked.

“I would appreciate that very much. Thank you,” Miranda replied, exchanging a knowing look with Cook. It was beginning to become pretty apparent that she wasn't the only person to have been recently granted a chance for love.

When she got back downstairs, Robert immediately walked to her side. “How are you feeling? Do you want me to tell Kern to go away? It's near midnight. I'm sure you can tell him your story tomorrow.”

“I'd rather get it over with. When I finally go to sleep tonight, I want to know I can put this all behind me, not dread going over it yet again.”

“I can understand that.” He looked at Belle.

“I'm going to stay with her, too, sir. Just in case she needs anything. I can help serve refreshments as well. Cook went to go prepare something.”

Robert nodded as he escorted Miranda to the sofa. “Let's get this over with, then.”

He sounded so weary, so disgruntled, she couldn't help but smile. “I promise, I don't mind speaking to Sheriff Kern now. I'm grateful to be alive.”

His expression softened. “Well said, Miranda. Indeed, we have much to be grateful for. More than I ever imagined.”

An hour later, Belle walked Sheriff Kern to the door. Though it was apparent Mrs. Markham, Mr. Truax, and Captain Monroe were surprised—and perhaps amused?—at her bold offer to see Sheriff Kern out, Belle didn't care.

The day had been so stressful, so incredibly nerve-racking, it had made her want to finally take some chances. She would always regret it if she didn't at least make a bit of an effort.

When they reached the impressive carved oak door, Sheriff Kern bowed gallantly. “Thank you for seeing me out, Belle. Given the time of night, it is very kind.”

The right thing to do would be to say it was no trouble, open the door, and wave him on.

But if she did that, she might never have another chance like this.

“Do you have to go right this minute?” Belle blurted.

“No.” He looked at her curiously. “Is there something you need?”

“Only a moment of your time. If you aren't in too big a hurry, can we stand outside for a moment?”

His dark eyes flickered. “I'm never in too big of a hurry for you, Belle. But it's chilly. Do you have a cloak or something to put on?”

She grabbed a blanket that she'd folded on one of the chairs by the door. “This will do.”

After the front door closed and they were alone under the dim gas lantern by the door, Sheriff Kern looked at her with concern. “Now, what is on your mind? Is anything wrong?”

Because she was so nervous, her voice was sharper than she intended. “Do you mean beyond my employer getting kidnapped and almost killed?”

He looked down at his feet. Sighed. Then raised his chin to meet her gaze. “I'm sorry. Of course you are right. There has been
more than enough ‘wrong' today.” Still eyeing her carefully, he added, “It's just that, well, you seem . . . well, you seem distraught. I was afraid something else happened tonight that you didn't feel you could share in front of everyone else.”

“Something did.”

“What happened?”

“I was worried about you.”

“Me?”

“I was so worried that you would come to harm. The moment I heard you were out looking for Mrs. Markham, I worried.”

“You did?” Then he looked embarrassed. “I didn't hardly do anything.”

“Of course you did! Why, you were out searching in the warehouse district all evening for Mrs. Markham!”

“This is true, but Truax and Monroe were the ones who found her. Not me.”

“That hardly matters.”

“Winter pulled a pistol on Mrs. Markham. Monroe's quick reflexes prevented a terrible tragedy from taking place. So I would say what he did does matter. It matters a lot.”

Now she was the one who was feeling foolish. Backing up, she said, “I'm sorry. It's just that I didn't want you to go home without me saying anything. I am very glad you are all right . . . sir.”

“To be honest, even though you said that day at the docks that you would give me a chance, I didn't think you cared about me,” Sheriff Kern admitted.

She was stunned. “Why would you say that?”

Looking increasingly uncomfortable, he looked down at his linked hands. “Well, I heard you spent much of the evening with Major Kelly.” Raising his chin, he shrugged. “I don't blame you, though.”

“What?”

“After all, I'm just a man, Belle. I fought in the war and have settled here in Galveston. I now try to keep the peace in this melting pot of Northerners, Southerners, refugees, and foreigners from all parts of the world. Never have I gained a reputation like Ethan Kelly's.”

She realized then that, even though she thought of him as powerful, he was just as confused about his self-worth as the rest of them. And for some reason, that made her feel more at ease around him than ever before.

Choosing her words with care, she said, “To be honest, yes, I was glad to sit with Major Kelly. He's helped Mrs. Markham and Mr. Truax, and because of that I would sit with him as long as anyone needed me to.”

His expression was still guarded. “He is wealthy and handsome.”

“Indeed. And yes, I think he is dashing.”

“I am far from that.”

She couldn't help but smile. Did he really not know how handsome he was?

“Well, he is not the kind of man for me.” Based on some of his mostly unintelligible ramblings at Dr. Kronke's, she also was pretty sure Ethan Kelly was hiding some secrets of his own. She had no desire to discover them.

“He's not?”

She shook her head. “First of all, I don't think someone like him would ever care for me. We are too different.”

“Ah.” He stared at her for a long moment. What was he thinking? Had she been too bold?

She turned to leave. “Sheriff Kern, I do beg your pardon. I shouldn't have run out here.”

“Wait. I'm glad you did.”

“Truly?”

He nodded. “There's something about you that I can't get over, Belle. Maybe it's the way you look so fragile, but you never give in. Or maybe it's the way you always put other people's needs before your own.” His voice lowered. “Whatever the reason, I can't always seem to think coherently when I'm around you.”

“How do you think we might solve this problem?” She smiled as she felt his gaze float over her.

“I think we need to see each other more often,” he said, his voice strong and sure.

“I've heard that practice does make certain tasks easier,” she teased.

He nodded. “When is your next afternoon off?”

“In two days.”

“May I take you out then? We could go to that new tavern in the Tremont and have some supper.”

He was asking her out. Just like a real lady. “Yes, Sheriff Kern, I would like that.”

“I only eat meals with people who call me Jess. Will you finally call me by my given name?”

“I'll let you know . . . in two days' time,” she said with a smile.

“I'll look forward to discovering your answer then, miss.” He tipped his hat and nodded, then started down the stairs.

And when Belle opened the door, the lantern by the door illuminating her way, she was delighted to hear his chuckle float toward her.

Sweetening her dreams.

BOOK: The Loyal Heart
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