right in her hands as she headed out of the yard and down Main Street. Brand’s home was next door to the church and not far from Amelia and Hank’s. She found the place easily, though she’d never been there before. She pulled up in front, set the brake, and climbed down. It wasn’t until she raised her hand to knock on the front door that she realized her gloves didn’t even match.
Janie opened the door. Somewhere behind her, Sam was yelling, “I wanted to get it!”
When they saw who it was, they fell silent.
“Is your father home?” Laura asked.
“Why?” Janie demanded.
“It’s an emergency.”
“He’s in his office. He said not to bother him.”
Laura took a deep breath. “This is an emergency. Please bother him.”
“But…”
Laura pictured the dying girl at the saloon. Her patience was ebbing.
“Please go tell him right now or I’ll have to come in and find him myself. When I do, he’s not going to be happy.”
Sam bolted down the hall yelling “Papa! Emergency!” as if the house were on fire. Janie stood her ground.
“Do you love my papa?” the girl asked.
Laura closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I like him. He’s a very nice man. But I don’t love anyone.”
Janie crossed her arms and didn’t invite her in.
Laura stood on the porch waiting for what seemed like hours. In reality it was mere minutes before Brand came down the hall. It was the first time she’d seen him without his coat. Collarless, with his shirtsleeves rolled up, he looked like any other man. Any other handsome man.
Her heart stuttered. She ignored it. This was no time for her emotions to betray her.
“Laura? Sam mentioned an emergency—” Concern was written all over Brand’s face. “Are you all right?”
“It’s not me.” She glanced down at the children with their upturned faces, big eyes, and bigger ears. “Can we speak alone?”
He had to tell them twice to go find their Aunt Charity. They left, but not without exaggerated whining and foot dragging. Brand stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Laura thought he might take hold of her hand, so she locked them together.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A young woman is dying. She’s asking for a preacher.”
“Let me get my Bible,” he said without hesitation.
Laura quickly added, “Amelia is with her. She’s at the Silver Slipper.”
“I’ll be right back.” Again, no hesitation whatsoever before he stepped back inside.
Laura walked to the edge of the modest front porch and tapped her toe while she waited. Seconds later, Brand was back. He’d collected his Bible and was donning his hat as he crossed the porch. He hadn’t bothered with his coat or collar.
“Let’s go,” he said. He headed down the steps toward the buggy.
Once they were settled and she had taken the reins up again, he leaned back, watching her carefully.
“How is it you’re here?”
“Amelia was at the house when they sent for her. She’d helped the girl earlier and now it appears the young woman is dying.” Laura focused on the street, guiding her rig between other wagons and riders on Main.
She snuck a sidelong glance at the man beside her. When she found him studying her, she tried to concentrate on the road again. In no time she had pulled the rig up outside the saloon.
“Thank you, Laura.” He jumped out of the buggy, lingered a moment. “Don’t wait. I’ll walk home.”
“I’ll wait,” she said. “Amelia might need my help.”
“This place isn’t—”
“I’ll wait,” she insisted.
“But—”
“Go, Brand.”
Bible in hand, he disappeared into the saloon.
She sat on the high-sprung front seat of the covered buggy staring into the saloon. Beyond the open front door, the interior was gloomy. It was afternoon, so there were fewer patrons inside. Of an evening when the air was still or a breeze blew in just the right direction, tinny piano music drifted as far as the boardinghouse. Just now, the piano was
Janie opened the door. Somewhere behind her, Sam was yelling, “I wanted to get it!”
When they saw who it was, they fell silent.
“Is your father home?” Laura asked.
“Why?” Janie demanded.
“It’s an emergency.”
“He’s in his office. He said not to bother him.”
Laura took a deep breath. “This is an emergency. Please bother him.”
“But…”
Laura pictured the dying girl at the saloon. Her patience was ebbing.
“Please go tell him right now or I’ll have to come in and find him myself. When I do, he’s not going to be happy.”
Sam bolted down the hall yelling “Papa! Emergency!” as if the house were on fire. Janie stood her ground.
“Do you love my papa?” the girl asked.
Laura closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I like him. He’s a very nice man. But I don’t love anyone.”
Janie crossed her arms and didn’t invite her in.
Laura stood on the porch waiting for what seemed like hours. In reality it was mere minutes before Brand came down the hall. It was the first time she’d seen him without his coat. Collarless, with his shirtsleeves rolled up, he looked like any other man. Any other handsome man.
Her heart stuttered. She ignored it. This was no time for her emotions to betray her.
“Laura? Sam mentioned an emergency—” Concern was written all over Brand’s face. “Are you all right?”
“It’s not me.” She glanced down at the children with their upturned faces, big eyes, and bigger ears. “Can we speak alone?”
He had to tell them twice to go find their Aunt Charity. They left, but not without exaggerated whining and foot dragging. Brand stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Laura thought he might take hold of her hand, so she locked them together.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A young woman is dying. She’s asking for a preacher.”
“Let me get my Bible,” he said without hesitation.
Laura quickly added, “Amelia is with her. She’s at the Silver Slipper.”
“I’ll be right back.” Again, no hesitation whatsoever before he stepped back inside.
Laura walked to the edge of the modest front porch and tapped her toe while she waited. Seconds later, Brand was back. He’d collected his Bible and was donning his hat as he crossed the porch. He hadn’t bothered with his coat or collar.
“Let’s go,” he said. He headed down the steps toward the buggy.
Once they were settled and she had taken the reins up again, he leaned back, watching her carefully.
“How is it you’re here?”
“Amelia was at the house when they sent for her. She’d helped the girl earlier and now it appears the young woman is dying.” Laura focused on the street, guiding her rig between other wagons and riders on Main.
She snuck a sidelong glance at the man beside her. When she found him studying her, she tried to concentrate on the road again. In no time she had pulled the rig up outside the saloon.
“Thank you, Laura.” He jumped out of the buggy, lingered a moment. “Don’t wait. I’ll walk home.”
“I’ll wait,” she said. “Amelia might need my help.”
“This place isn’t—”
“I’ll wait,” she insisted.
“But—”
“Go, Brand.”
Bible in hand, he disappeared into the saloon.
She sat on the high-sprung front seat of the covered buggy staring into the saloon. Beyond the open front door, the interior was gloomy. It was afternoon, so there were fewer patrons inside. Of an evening when the air was still or a breeze blew in just the right direction, tinny piano music drifted as far as the boardinghouse. Just now, the piano was
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