to an empty room, not a man who had an unlocked balcony door waiting for him.
Duncan closed his eyes knowing he’d be back in the saddle heading toward Dallas before dawn. He’d worry about Killian O’Toole and August Myers after the outlaws were sentenced and handed over to the federal marshals. With luck tomorrow would be the last day of the trial. If the Tanners planned to make a break, they’d make it before dark.
Chapter 10
Monday
Second Avenue
A be watched Miss Sara Norman as she rang the school bell and welcomed her students back from their holiday break. If she’d glanced up, she would have seen him standing in the doorway. He told himself he’d wave when she noticed him. Then maybe she’d nod slightly or even wave back if he were lucky.
But she never looked his way.
All day he found himself stealing looks out the window toward the school, wishing, hoping to see her returning them. But it never happened. The weather was too cold for the children to go outside. He’d seen them eating their lunches at their desks and then marching around the room on parade like a small band, laughing and clapping.
When he saw her like that, a teacher—a good teacher—he couldn’t think of her as an almost lover. It wouldn’t be right. She was smart and caring and too good for a crippled-up man who rarely left his store.
That evening, he watched her light burning late in the little schoolroom. He knew she was working, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. Seeing her all alone at the desk made him think of the lists she made for herself and the letter she’d started to her mother. He thought of her as lonely, maybe as lonely as he was, and he wanted to hold her.
When she finished, she blew out the lamp, locked the door, and walked home to her boardinghouse without looking his direction. He’d feared she wasn’t coming back to him. Maybe he’d been too bold. Maybe he’d been too mean, too demanding. He made up a hundred
if
s. If he’d moved slower, maybe asked to hold her hand. If he’d just talked to her and not told her he was going to kiss her. He couldn’t remember saying one nice thing to her. He’d only demanded she remain silent while he kissed her like he was sure no gentleman ever kissed a lady.
Maybe she wanted to forget the whole thing. What had meant so much to him might be nothing more to her than a memory she’d like to forget.
He went about his job, waiting on late customers just getting off work and stopping by to pick up things before heading home. A few of the girls from the saloon on Main Street came in. They probably hadn’t felt comfortable in the fancy stores a block over, but this time of night no one would notice them buying a few necessities. They giggled and talked among themselves. When they finally made their selections, they walked shyly to the counter.
Abe always treated them like fine ladies and they always thanked him as properly as if they lived in one of the big houses and not in the back of a saloon.
Nights were the worst for him. Abe wished he could have at least walked Sara home. In his mind he would try talking to her, though even there he struggled with words.
You’re every thought I have
, seemed a little much, and
How are you?
didn’t seem nearly enough. So he’d remained in his prison with his nightmares of the war and his days filled with thinking of things he wished he’d said. Before holding her in his arms, he felt like he’d been asleep through his days. With one kiss, she’d awakened him and he learned how lonely his life was.
The air had turned icy when he finally locked up. He wanted to stand at the corner of his porch and look down the road where he could see the windows of her boardinghouse, but Abe forced his mind on other matters. He’d decided not to remodel the bakery next door. Sara often used the space for her own supplies because the little schoolhouse lacked room, and he liked the thought of her visiting the storage area from time
Duncan closed his eyes knowing he’d be back in the saddle heading toward Dallas before dawn. He’d worry about Killian O’Toole and August Myers after the outlaws were sentenced and handed over to the federal marshals. With luck tomorrow would be the last day of the trial. If the Tanners planned to make a break, they’d make it before dark.
Chapter 10
Monday
Second Avenue
A be watched Miss Sara Norman as she rang the school bell and welcomed her students back from their holiday break. If she’d glanced up, she would have seen him standing in the doorway. He told himself he’d wave when she noticed him. Then maybe she’d nod slightly or even wave back if he were lucky.
But she never looked his way.
All day he found himself stealing looks out the window toward the school, wishing, hoping to see her returning them. But it never happened. The weather was too cold for the children to go outside. He’d seen them eating their lunches at their desks and then marching around the room on parade like a small band, laughing and clapping.
When he saw her like that, a teacher—a good teacher—he couldn’t think of her as an almost lover. It wouldn’t be right. She was smart and caring and too good for a crippled-up man who rarely left his store.
That evening, he watched her light burning late in the little schoolroom. He knew she was working, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. Seeing her all alone at the desk made him think of the lists she made for herself and the letter she’d started to her mother. He thought of her as lonely, maybe as lonely as he was, and he wanted to hold her.
When she finished, she blew out the lamp, locked the door, and walked home to her boardinghouse without looking his direction. He’d feared she wasn’t coming back to him. Maybe he’d been too bold. Maybe he’d been too mean, too demanding. He made up a hundred
if
s. If he’d moved slower, maybe asked to hold her hand. If he’d just talked to her and not told her he was going to kiss her. He couldn’t remember saying one nice thing to her. He’d only demanded she remain silent while he kissed her like he was sure no gentleman ever kissed a lady.
Maybe she wanted to forget the whole thing. What had meant so much to him might be nothing more to her than a memory she’d like to forget.
He went about his job, waiting on late customers just getting off work and stopping by to pick up things before heading home. A few of the girls from the saloon on Main Street came in. They probably hadn’t felt comfortable in the fancy stores a block over, but this time of night no one would notice them buying a few necessities. They giggled and talked among themselves. When they finally made their selections, they walked shyly to the counter.
Abe always treated them like fine ladies and they always thanked him as properly as if they lived in one of the big houses and not in the back of a saloon.
Nights were the worst for him. Abe wished he could have at least walked Sara home. In his mind he would try talking to her, though even there he struggled with words.
You’re every thought I have
, seemed a little much, and
How are you?
didn’t seem nearly enough. So he’d remained in his prison with his nightmares of the war and his days filled with thinking of things he wished he’d said. Before holding her in his arms, he felt like he’d been asleep through his days. With one kiss, she’d awakened him and he learned how lonely his life was.
The air had turned icy when he finally locked up. He wanted to stand at the corner of his porch and look down the road where he could see the windows of her boardinghouse, but Abe forced his mind on other matters. He’d decided not to remodel the bakery next door. Sara often used the space for her own supplies because the little schoolhouse lacked room, and he liked the thought of her visiting the storage area from time
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