The Accidental Lawman by Jill Marie Landis

it into the kitchen and laid it on the table. The Glory Gazette ’s first edition, with its story about the robbery, brought an ache to her heart and a nervous uproar in her stomach. Her two weeks on the road had been a fine reprieve, but now she faced the same challenges she’d tried to escape.
    How long before I run into Hank Larson somewhere?
    What in the world was she supposed to say or do when she saw him? Why had he kissed her?
    And what of Evan?
    She pressed her palms against the surface of the kitchen table, closed her eyes and whispered, “Dear Lord, keep me strong. Help me to follow Your lead, to trust You to show me the way and the truth. Keep Evan safe. Help him to follow Your lead, to hear Your voice.”
    One look out the back window and her tasks for theday were clear. Before she could tackle the weeds in the garden, there were dried herbs to be ground and sifted into packets to replace those she’d used on her journey. She donned her apron, took a pestle and mortar off the shelf near the window, and then went into the small pantry between the kitchen and the back porch.
    She was on a short ladder, unhooking a bunch of yarrow she had hung from a nail in a low beam, when she heard boot heels echoing against the back porch.
    Her heart quickened its pace and for a moment she envisioned Hank Larson about to knock on the door, until she remembered only one person used the back door—Evan.
    Her toe caught in the hem of her dress and she nearly fell off the ladder in her haste to climb down. She tossed the yarrow on the dry sink and was turning around when her brother walked in.
    “Evan—”
    A greeting died on her lips the moment she saw him. Above a dark growth of stubble, his eyes were weary. He looked as if he’d aged ten years. He was covered in trail dust, his clothes filthy. He took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair and looked around.
    “Let me get a fire going in the stove. Are you hungry?” She bustled over to the wood box. “I just walked in myself. I was out doing home visits.” She avoided looking at him, afraid to discover he looked even worse than she thought at first sight. “I should have gotten the fire going first thing, but I had a big breakfast at the Ellenbergs’ and was putting off cooking.”
    He didn’t offer to light the stove for her. As she lit the kindling, she heard him walk to the table, pull out a chair. When she turned around, she saw him reach for the newspaper.
    “How—” she balked, afraid to ask “—how is your new job?” She steeled herself against a lie.
    “Fine.” He glanced at the Gazette. Amelia clasped her hands at her waist. It had always been a struggle to get him to read anything. His hands tightened on the paper as he read the headline, Bandit Hits Local Bank. He bent over the sheet, slowly reading every word.
    When he finally looked up, her heart sank to her toes. The truth was plain as day on his face.
    He was there that day .
    “Your name is mentioned,” he told her. “Looks like you were as much a part of foiling the holdup as the new sheriff .” His eyes were hard, unforgiving.
    “The gunman tripped over us.” She took a deep breath. Shuddered. “You know very well what happened that day. I saw you outside the door.”
    There was no shock, no protest. He leaned back and casually hooked one arm over the chair. “Says here no one else saw anything, except maybe that lady with a boardinghouse. I know you, sis. If you were sure about seeing me, you’da turned me in. Your goody-goody conscience must be worrying you something fierce. Why didn’t you tell anybody?”
    “I…wasn’t positive. You never really admitted…”
    “But you suspected.”
    “I didn’t want to believe it of you. The barkeep says you keep company with a bad lot.”
    “I suppose everyone’s been talking about me.”
    She couldn’t tell if that upset him or if he was bragging.
    “We’re known by the friends we keep,” she said.
    He stood up, shoved