Tracie Peterson - [Desert Roses 01] by Shadows of the Canyon

them that he stood and replaced the fire poker. He looked at the closed door for a long time. Why in the world had she singled him out? With the exception of two other women, both older and both obviously married, Miss Winthrop was the only female in their group. She was the obvious interest of the dozen or more men who had joined their party into the canyon.
    “So why come after me?” he questioned aloud. He pulled off his shirt and draped it back over the chair. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze still fixed on the door as if Valerie Winthrop might somehow rematerialize, Luke pulled off his boots and shook his head. “Why?”
    Clancy returned about that time and Luke couldn’t help but feel a wash of embarrassment over the episode. Clancy looked at him, as if awaiting an explanation. Luke shrugged. “She just burst in here unannounced and threw herself at me. I’m telling you, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    Clancy smiled. “She smells good, I’ve got to give her that.” He closed the door and walked to his own side of the room. “She isn’t very happy with you.”
    “I don’t care,” Luke said, standing to take off his jeans. He thought better of it and decided to sleep with them on. Just because Clancy was here didn’t mean she might not sneak back, and if that happened, Luke intended to be at least partially clothed.
    “She was crying and telling me that nobody cared about her,” Clancy said, tossing his hat to a hook. “I felt sorry for her.”
    “Don’t,” Luke said angrily. “She has an entire entourage of men who would be more than happy to entertain and care for her. She’s just playing games with me. The problem is, I don’t know why.”
    “Maybe she has some kind of bet with that Mr. Harper character. They seem a strange bunch. Someone said she’s engaged to Harper. If that’s the case, why is she here with you?”
    “Exactly,” Luke said in complete exasperation. He trusted Clancy not to make a big deal out of the situation, but he felt he needed to say something. “Clancy, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep what happened here tonight just between us.”
    “Sure, boss.”
    “I don’t need my reputation ruined.”
    “Some of the guys wouldn’t see it that way,” Clancy said, smiling. “They’d see you as quite the man.”
    “Yes, but I worry more about the truth of the matter and what God thinks.” Luke sat down on the bed and rubbed his chin. “I know God knows what happened here tonight, but a Christian needs to work to be above reproach.”
    “What’s that mean—reproach?”
    “Disgrace—shame—blame. It means you live your life in such a fashion that no one can hold you accountable for things you didn’t do. You keep out of situations that even look like they might be a problem.”
    “Like before prohibition,” Clancy said, “when the guys wanted you to go to the bar in Williams. They’d tease you and say you didn’t have to drink whiskey or beer.”
    “Exactly. I could go sit in the bar and drink nothing but water—be completely innocent—but someone might see me and believe the worst. I wouldn’t be guilty of drinking, but I sure would be guilty of giving someone reason to believe falsely of me.”
    “But you can’t be held to account for what people think,” Clancy said. “Surely God doesn’t expect that. I mean, you can’t very well control other people’s lives—especially their thoughts.”
    Clancy eyed him seriously, as if his words were just too incredible to believe. Luke realized that Clancy had never taken much interest in talk of the Christian walk, prior to this. Luke was aware that what he said now might very well send Clancy away from God or draw him closer. He whispered a prayer for the right words.
    “You can’t control other people’s lives or thoughts—butyou can control your own,” Luke replied. “Self-control is an important part of living a Christian life. But you don’t have to do it on your own. God