Authors: Karen Witemeyer
On Friday afternoon, Levi walked into the Spencer bank with his first deposit jangling in his pocket. His profits from a week at the forge were meager at best, especially after having donated everything in his till to Eden’s fund drive on Wednesday, but like a kid who’d earned his first dime carting supplies or mucking stalls, the sense of accomplishment he carried rendered the dollar amount unimportant.
Taking his place in line, Levi glanced up to the clerk’s barred window and spied a familiar black bonnet perched atop a lovely coil of auburn hair. He’d seen Eden at the library just a few hours ago, but his stomach danced as if he hadn’t seen her in ages. Who would’ve guessed viewing the back of a woman’s head could have such an effect on a man?
Levi grinned, then sobered. He needed to keep a tighter rein on his reactions. The scuffle with the drunk a couple days back proved that his past could catch up to him at any time. He had no business pursuing more than a friendship with Eden Spencer, no matter what the back of her head did to his insides.
“Thank you, Adam.” Eden’s soft voice carried in the quiet lobby, as did the click of her purse clasp after she tucked the bills she’d received within its folds. She had just begun to turn when the outside door swung inward and crashed into the wall.
Levi spun around. Three men charged into the bank.
“Draper!” the first one yelled as he shoved past Levi, “Get your sorry hide out here!”
One fellow blocked off the entrance with a crossed-arm stance as if to make sure their quarry didn’t escape while the other prowled about the room kicking at chairs with enough force to overturn a few while he heated the air with curses.
The first man reached the clerk’s window and pounded his fist against the bars. “Get Draper. Now!”
The clerk scurried away, as did Eden. She backed toward the side wall, her hands out before her in a placating manner. Levi moved to go to her, but before he took more than two steps, the second man snatched up one of the chairs he’d been kicking and hurled it at Levi’s head.
“Stay where you are, cowboy.”
Levi lurched back and twisted his face away, leaving his shoulder to deflect most of the blow.
His assailant grabbed a second chair and drew it back. “Mind yer own business and nobody’ll get hurt. All we want is that no-good, swindlin’ banker.”
Levi said nothing, just rubbed his shoulder and stared the man down. It was a little late to promise that no one would get hurt. The fellow finally lowered the chair, then straddled it as he placed himself between Levi and the man at the front, the one yelling for Draper.
The trio wasn’t armed as far as Levi could tell, unless one counted the chair, so it was doubtful they intended to rob the place.
“You too afraid to face me, Draper?” The first man pounded on the bars again, and the sound of coins quivering in an open drawer rattled from the other side. “You think you can just steal my brother’s land and not be held accountable? Come out here and face me like a man.”
Levi was plotting the best way to circumvent the man with the chair to get to Eden, when the crazy woman actually stepped closer to the ringleader.
“Gentlemen, please. Whatever injustice has transpired, this angry display will only make matters worse. Please, calm yoursel—”
“Shut up, lady,” the first man snapped. “This don’t concern you.”
“It most certainly—”
“Eden,” Levi said through his clenched jaw. “Be quiet.”
Her gaze locked with his, and the panic in her eyes made his heart throb worse than his shoulder.
“Get out of my bank, Monroe. You and those mangy brothers of yours.”
Draper had finally made an appearance, but it was the shotgun he carried that drew everyone’s attention. He jabbed the barrel through the bars, making Monroe step back.
“You gonna shoot me, Draper? I shoulda expected as much from a dirty dealer like you.”
Levi inched toward Eden while Draper distracted the men.
“Will hadn’t made a payment in four months. I warned him I’d foreclose if he couldn’t find the money a fifth time.”
“A decent man would wait until the next crop comes in.”
“I run a business not a charity, Monroe. Now, get out!” Draper cocked his weapon and aimed it at the man’s chest.
The brother at the door suddenly cried out in pain and fell to his knees as Sheriff Pratt forced his way in, gun drawn. “Everybody down!”
Levi lunged for Eden. He shielded her with his bulk, not trusting Pratt or Draper to keep their bullets to themselves. Eden trembled and her breath came out in shallow little puffs.
“Out,” she begged as she tugged on his arm. “Levi, I need to get out.”
He tipped his face slightly toward her while keeping an eye on the sheriff. “All right.”
The two Monroe brothers near the counter had their hands raised, but their mouths continued to call curses down on the banker as they slowly sank to their knees. Emboldened by Pratt’s presence, Draper unlocked the inner door and stepped out from behind the counter.
“I want these men arrested, Sheriff.”
“What for?” one of the brothers demanded. “We’re not robbin’ the place. You’re the one who should be locked up for threatening me with that shotgun.”
“Close your trap.” The sheriff glanced around the room, his eyes widening when he caught sight of Eden. He then scowled at Levi, a muscle in his jaw ticking where he ground his back teeth together.
Levi met his gaze. “Let me take her home, Pratt.”
The lawman checked on the Monroe brothers before looking back at Levi. He huffed out a disgusted breath, then strode to the door and yanked the last Monroe to his feet, dragging him away from the entrance. “Go on. Get her out of here.”
Levi made his way to the door with Eden sticking to him like a shadow.
“But you better hightail it back here and give me your statement, pronto.” Pratt glared at Levi as he passed, making his objection clear.
Levi would have promised almost anything to get Eden out of that powder keg. He nodded. “You have my word.”
Eden needed no urging to hurry. The minute she stepped clear of the bank, her arms and legs pumped with such haste, Levi struggled to keep up. When they reached her yard, Levi reached a hand out to slow her before she could disappear into the house.
“You going to be all right?”
She pivoted so fast, her handbag whacked him in the arm. “What is it with men, that they think yelling and pounding on things will get them what they want? Or throwing punches or waving a gun. It’s all so . . . so . . . stupid!”
Her eyes still had a bit of the wild, panicked look to them that he’d seen earlier in the bank, but a glow of righteous indignation dominated. Her cheeks flushed from the brisk pace she’d set, her chest heaving slightly from the exertion, wisps of her hair waving in the breeze—she was like a virago rising up to take mankind to task for their deficiencies.
“First that grieving man attacks you for no good reason other than he feels sorry for himself and wants to spread the misery around,” she started, gesticulating wildly, “and then a pack of wolves descends upon the bank, snarling and pouncing in the hopes of frightening their prey enough to get him to concede to their demands. Did they care who else might be inside when they charged through the door? No! They were too caught up in their own rage. Not five minutes before they arrived, the Cooper girls were skipping around the lobby while their mother made a deposit. Just imagine the disaster if those Monroe men had arrived a few minutes earlier. It’s unconscionable!” Eden’s arms flung wide, sending the handbag dangling from her wrist flying through the air until it snagged on a rosebush.
“Then Norman Draper with his shotgun and the sheriff with his strong-arm tactics—why, it’s a miracle we got out of there unscathed!”
Levi kept his mouth shut, letting her say what she needed to say. He didn’t try to explain a man’s need to assert himself among his peers or point out that the sheriff’s strong-arm tactics had proved effective in defusing the situation at the bank. Who was he to defend the actions of the men who had earned her scorn? He’d done far worse.
Silently, Levi reached around Eden to retrieve her handbag from a thorny branch. He picked off the tiny sticks that clung to the lacy fabric and handed it back to her. She accepted his offering and let out a long sigh.
“I’m sorry, Levi. I had no call to vent my spleen on you like that. I just . . .” She turned away from him and started walking toward the porch. “I felt so trapped and helpless. It was as if someone had turned the clock back and I was twelve again, and . . .” Her voice trailed off as she reached the railing.
He thought she was going to disappear into the house, but she sank down onto the stairs instead. There wasn’t enough room to squeeze in beside her, but Levi wasn’t about to strand her with her memories, not when her eyes begged him to stay. So he followed her to the porch steps and leaned against the newel post at the base.
“What happened when you were twelve?”
She dropped her purse in her lap and grabbed hold of one of the curved railing spindles. “My father took me to a political rally where one of his friends was speaking. Mother was supposed to go, but she didn’t feel well, so Daddy asked me to accompany him.”
A wistful smile touched Eden’s face as she gazed out across the yard. “I felt so grown up and special on his arm that day. The hall was terribly crowded, though, and when the speaker droned on and on I grew impatient. Daddy went to fetch me some lemonade, and while he was gone the riot started.”
Levi stiffened. “Riot?”
“Apparently my father’s friend had bought several mills in the area only to close them down in order to sell the land to the railroad. The townsfolk heralded him a hero because his deal brought the railroad, and with it increased prosperity for all their businesses. But the unemployed mill workers took a different view, and after building up their courage at the local saloon, they stormed the meeting hall.
“They fired shots in the air while casting aspersions on anyone siding with a man who would steal bread from their children’s mouths. People panicked and pushed and shoved to try to get away. I screamed for my father, but he was too far away to get to me, and everyone was pressing against him to try to exit the building. Some of the men tried to subdue the troublemakers and confiscate their weapons, but the mill workers fought back, and soon it was nothing more than an all-out brawl.
“The noise was deafening as everyone scrambled to escape. I was too scared to move, afraid Daddy wouldn’t be able to find me if I wasn’t where he left me. But as the brawl grew, it moved closer to the stage. Closer to me. Then one large fellow took a blow to the face and fell backward. Right on top of me. I lay beneath him as he rolled back and forth, trying to get up. I couldn’t breathe. The fall had knocked the wind out of me, and I thought I was dying.”
The girl must have been frightened out of her wits. No wonder the standoff in the bank had spooked her so badly. Levi hunkered down beside Eden and tried to meet her gaze, but she was too lost in her memories to notice.
“The man finally rolled off and I sat up, gasping and sputtering. I could hear Daddy calling my name. He pushed his way through the mob and was nearly to me when another gun went off. I couldn’t even scream. All I could do was watch Daddy grab his head and fall to his knees.
“I crawled over to him. Blood covered the side of his face and stained the shirt Mother had given him for Christmas.”
Levi reached for her hand. When he touched her, she startled and returned to the present. Offering him a small smile, she tugged her hand free and got to her feet. Levi rose, too, standing quietly as she brushed the dust off her skirts.
“He was fine, of course,” Eden continued, with a tone that tried to convey that everything else was fine, too, but Levi wasn’t fooled. “The bullet had just grazed him.”
“I’m glad.”
The faraway look came over her again, but after a second or two she blinked it away. “My goodness. Here I am rambling about something that happened ages ago when the sheriff is waiting for you.” She scurried up to the door and laid her palm on the handle, clicking the latch open. “Thank you for seeing me home, but you better hurry back to the bank. The sheriff’s not known for his patience.”
“Pratt will keep.” He wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure she was going to be all right.
Eden dipped her chin, but when her eyes lifted to meet his, they held an intensity that made his chest ache. “You’re one of the few men I’ve met who has found a way to keep his life free of aggression, even when provoked. This world needs more men like you, Levi.”
Then she turned and went into the house, leaving him staring at the closed door while his stomach churned over the lie he was letting her believe. Maybe he’d been believing a lie, as well. Thinking he could walk away from his past. Eden might respect Levi the blacksmith, but she’d never forgive Levi the prizefighter.
After all the unpleasant excitement involving the attack at the smithy and the standoff at the bank, Eden found the routine of the following week a blessed relief. She doubted her pulse had accelerated past a steady plod during the last ten days. Well . . . except for when Levi stopped in for his daily read.
As he was doing now.
Eden forced her gaze to remain on the letter she was writing to her father instead of allowing it to wander in the direction of the man sitting in the corner of her reading room. Her self-discipline proved ineffectual, though. Just knowing he was there prompted that annoying little flutter in her abdomen that had been getting worse of late.
The two-week waiting period she had imposed on Levi’s library privileges had expired last Friday, and each day since, she’d held her breath as he pushed up out of her father’s chair and then exhaled when he slid his book back onto the shelf instead of bringing it to her desk with the request to borrow it. She had become rather accustomed to his visits, and though they still said no more than a handful of words to each other during the daily encounters, there was something comfortable about sharing the room with him.
Afraid she’d actually miss the hulking fellow should he decide to read at home, Eden had yet to remind him of their agreement. However, her rising curiosity about another matter prodded her to broach the subject. She wished to conduct an experiment.
Eden finally glanced up from the letter and snuck a peek at the blacksmith. She nibbled on the end of her penholder as she contemplated him.
Ever since the day she went to the smithy to solicit a donation, she’d been cataloguing the unexpected words that emerged from Levi Grant’s mouth. With his halting speech and preference for minimizing conversations, she had initially assumed he was a bit, well . . . uneducated. Not that she had ever thought him lacking in wit or practical knowledge, per se, but he hadn’t exactly struck her as an intellectual sort—the type who could analyze Melville’s symbolism or comprehend the depths of Thoreau’s reflections. Yet as the list secreted in her desk drawer grew ever longer, she began questioning her first impression.
Levi turned a page in his book, the movement sending Eden’s gaze scurrying back to her desktop. Perhaps the best choice would be to leave things as they were. He’d probably not take kindly to her snooping, no matter how cleverly she disguised it. They’d developed an agreeable acquaintanceship over the past weeks. In fact, she considered herself more at ease in his company than any other man outside of Harvey or her father. So why risk losing that ease just to assuage her curiosity?
Eden set the pen aside and smothered a sigh. Because she was no longer content with easy and comfortable when it came to Levi Grant. It was like skimming through a novel without fully engaging with the story until a well-turned phrase or powerful bit of imagery snagged her attention, hinting at depths previously unnoticed. How could she continue skimming when a richer experience awaited?
Casting a quick glance at Levi to ensure he was still absorbed in his reading, Eden inched her desk drawer open and lifted her library ledger away to retrieve her list. The paper rattled slightly as she pulled it free, the sound echoing loudly in her ears. She darted a nervous look across the room, but Levi’s attention never wavered from his copy of Verne’s
A
Journey to the Centre of the Earth
. He had moved on from
Around the World in Eighty Days
the middle of last week.
Eden’s heart rate slowed, and she turned back to her list. She’d been careful not to label the page in case someone should stumble upon it. To anyone else it probably seemed an odd collection of words that had no bearing on one another, but to her it represented a mystery—one she was eager to pursue. She had added many words to the list since the day of the fund drive. Words like
virulent
,
devotee
, and
identifying aroma
.
At church last Sunday, she overheard him compliment Mr. Cranford’s sermon as being a “compelling pontification.” He could have just as easily called it a speech or message, but he’d chosen
pontification
, and the word rolled off his tongue without the slightest bobble. Then today when he arrived, she’d made some comment about the weather, how the sun had cleared away the clouds, and he’d answered by saying that the firmament exhibited fine form indeed. Firmament? Most people would refer to it as the sky or possibly the heavens if they were in a poetical mood. But firmament? The only time she ever used that term was when singing Joseph Addison’s hymn in church.
Levi Grant was a blacksmith by trade, not a schoolmaster or lawyer or gentleman of privilege. Yet every once in a while, he spat out a chunk of vocabulary so above his station, it signaled to her like a flare. The man might be an ironworker, but his mind seemed to be filled with more than a simple farrier’s knowledge. Eden ran a finger down the length of her list. Dare she test the depths?
She bit her lip for a moment in indecision, then snatched up a fresh piece of writing paper, determined to take action before she lost her nerve.
Levi reached the end of chapter ten, where the impatient professor and his level-headed nephew had just secured a guide for their subterranean adventure. Tempted to turn the page to see how they got on, Levi forced himself to close the cover instead. He could check in with them tomorrow. Today he had chain links to repair, a garden cultivator to weld, and a pair of axes to reface. Not as exciting as descending into a volcano shaft, but with the heat of the forge, the smithy might be almost as hot.
He smiled to himself and rose to his feet. Several years ago, he would have chafed at having to put aside a pleasurable activity for the drudgery of work. But that boy no longer existed. He’d been replaced by a man who’d grown to appreciate honest labor. It gave him purpose and even a bit of pride when a customer nodded approval to a job well done—not the fierce bolt of gratification that used to shoot into him when he knocked an opponent to his knees, but a quieter satisfaction that meandered through him like a clear stream, nourishing and sustaining him from within.
Surprisingly, Levi found he preferred the steady stream to the scorching bolt. Except when that bolt originated from a more feminine source.
Levi’s gaze sought out Miss Spencer.
Eden
. All she had to do was smile to release those little frissons of lightning in him.
As that thought crossed his mind, she glanced up, and Levi realized he was wrong. She didn’t have to smile. All she had to do was look at him.
Heaven help him. He was in a bad way.
And over a woman he couldn’t be more wrong for. Eden deserved a man who could provide for her in the same manner her father did, a man who wouldn’t tarnish her with his past, one who could carry on long, genteel conversations with her as they sat by the fire on a cold winter night. Levi was none of those things. So he hid his growing feelings and tried to talk himself out of them. But it did no good.
Yep. He was in a bad way.
Levi drew a corner of his mouth upward, thinking the smile more than actually shaping it. However, Eden must have noticed, for she answered with a tiny curve of her lips that suggested a similar mindset. Levi’s chest tightened. Twenty feet or more separated them, yet in that moment, it seemed he could feel her breathe. Then Eden dropped her gaze back to the desk. As if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, she dipped her pen into the inkwell beside her arm and returned to the letter she’d been writing.
Digging his fingers into the binding of his book, Levi made his way to the shelves. He stared at the slot where the title belonged, yet his hand refused to move. Maybe he should stop visiting the library so often. He’d waited his allotted two weeks. He could take the book with him and read it by lamplight in his room. By himself. With no distractions.
But he craved those distractions.
“Mr. Grant?”
Levi spun to face his hostess, a disconcerted knot in his belly. Had she guessed his thoughts? Praying his features portrayed nothing deeper than friendly interest, he raised a brow, inviting her to continue.
“It occurred to me today while you were reading that I have been remiss in my duty.” Eden straightened from her seat in a graceful motion, her deep blue skirts cascading into place to brush against the floor. As she came around the corner of the desk, her fingers trailed along the edge of the wood, the white lace at her wrist drawing his gaze to the delicate appendages. “You have proved yourself a stable member of this community; however, I have yet to loan you a book outside these walls.”
The formality of her tone and the way she didn’t quite look him in the eye wrenched his stomach further. Maybe she
had
guessed his thoughts and was politely trying to discourage his interest. It was probably for the best. Hurt like a punch to the gut, though.
Glad he still had the book in his hand, Levi summoned a smile and closed the distance between them. He couldn’t blame her for having discriminating taste. What he could do was make things easy on her. No point prolonging the awkwardness for either of them.
He held out the book to her. “I’d . . . enjoy . . . reading in the evening. And I won’t have to bother you every day, either.”
“You’ve not been a bother, Levi.” She dipped her chin, her voice soft, and Levi found himself wanting to believe that more than simple courtesy lay behind her words. Eden stroked the cover of the book and then raised her face to look at him. A shyness lingered in her eyes, but there was warmth, too—a warmth that quickly penetrated his chest and enlivened his hope.
“Your chair will remain in its place so that you may visit as often as you like. Some patrons prefer the atmosphere here.” She turned from him to survey the room. “I myself find the shelves of books soothing. I often come here after hours with a quilt and a cup of tea to relax with a story or a bit of poetry before retiring for the night.”
The picture forming in his mind was so vivid Levi couldn’t dispel it. Eden, her hair down, a quilt wrapped around her shoulders, stockinged feet peeking out from beneath her hem. Would she recline on the settee or curl up in a chair? Levi shot a glance at the stuffed leather chair across the room. Did she use
his
chair?
Another image flashed through his mind. He in the leather chair, a book in hand. Eden coming to join him. He’d stretch his arms wide, and she’d sit on his lap, leaning her head on his shoulder as she opened a volume of Browning or Keats. His arms would close around her as he turned his attention back to his own book, so accustomed to her presence that words wouldn’t even be necessary. . . .
“Forgive me. I’m rambling.” Eden blushed and moved past him to reclaim her seat behind the desk.
Levi blinked and quickly refocused, afraid his inattention had embarrassed her. But what could he say? That he hadn’t been listening because he was too busy imagining what it would be like to hold her? The ache of it still filled his chest.
“Anyway,” she was saying, “you can keep the book for up to two weeks.” Eden jotted a note in her ledger, listing the date, the name of the book, and his name. “After that, I’ll send the hounds after you.” She favored him with a grin as she handed the book into his keeping.
Levi chuckled, thankful for her easy forgiveness of his rudeness. “I’ll guard it with my life, dear lady.”
“See that you do.”
On his way back to the shop, Levi met up with Ornery. The dog trailed his heels from the library to the smithy. Apparently Eden had won over his hound so convincingly that the fellow was doing her bidding even before she asked.
“I’ll take care of the book, boy. Don’t worry.” Levi grinned and bent to rub the dog’s head. When they entered the shop, Levi made his way to the back and was about to slide Mr. Verne’s story onto his tall shelf next to his money box when he noticed something jutting out from among the pages. Something that hadn’t been there when he’d been reading it earlier. He was sure of it.
Levi lowered the volume and fanned the pages. A folded piece of stationery stood up from the center of the book, the edges slightly apart. He tipped the book toward him for a better look and found his name staring up at him from the top of the page.