“More wine, Senor Wolfe?” a familiar voice said from behind Josiah.
Josiah smiled even more broadly. “Why certainly, Juan Carlos. I don’t mind if I do.”
“As you wish, Senor Wolfe.” Juan Carlos poured a fresh glass of wine from a dark brown bottle. “You need to pace yourself,” he whispered in Josiah’s ear, after filling the glass, disappearing before Josiah could protest.
He had captured almost everyone’s attention, including that of the governor, who was looking his way with disdain.
Josiah raised the glass of wine to the governor, then downed it, too, like it was a shot of whiskey instead of fine wine.
He was instantly warm from head to toe, but it was a different feeling than he’d felt the few times he had drank whiskey or beer. He liked the wine. It was sweet, and he wanted more. Alcohol was not a vice of his, and whether he had any tolerance for wine was unknown to Josiah.
Before he could flag down Juan Carlos, who was on the other side of the table, filling a glass for the governor’s wife, Pete Feders stood up and banged a silver spoon on the side of an empty crystal glass.
The chatter stopped immediately; everyone’s attention had been forcefully garnered, including Josiah’s. He was not drunk, though one more glass of wine would surely take him to that unknown place. He still had his wits about him. Dread settled suddenly in his stomach.
“I have an announcement to make,” Pete Feders said.
Pearl rustled in her seat.
“I have asked Mrs. Fikes for Pearl’s hand in marriage, and she has obliged and given me permission,” Feders continued.
The room erupted in applause. Josiah didn’t clap. His mouth went dry.
Feders smiled. “Now if only Pearl will say yes.” He bent down on one knee and started to say something . . . but was stopped by Pearl, who bolted out of her chair and ran out of the room, sobbing uncontrollably.
The night air felt good against Josiah’s face. He had mixed in with the crowd as they all sought to leave the dining hall and was standing under the portico, leaning against a tall pillar, trying to regain confidence in his feet.
At first, the guests had been shocked at Pearl’s immediate exit from the room. They all just sat silently, staring at the befuddled Pete Feders and Widow Fikes.
Pete dashed out of the room after Pearl, and Mrs. Fikes feigned a hand on her forehead and promptly fainted in her chair, tumbling to the floor like a boulder pushed off a steep cliff. That was everyone’s cue to vacate the house. The social page of the
Carriages and buggies came and went, picking up their charges as quickly and comfortably as possible. It looked like a parade in front of the house, or like the last time Josiah had spent any time there, which was for Captain Fikes’s funeral. The latter was probably more apt, a parade being far too happy an event to reflect the state of the faces of those promptly leaving the grounds.
There were times when Josiah wished for a vice like tobacco. It would make passing the time a little easier. As it was, he was beginning to feel more like himself, the fuzzy effect of the wine clearing away. It was time to go home, to leave all the unfinished business at the Fikes estate to work itself out on its own.
Now that Feders had clearly stated his intentions publicly, there was no question that he would not relent until Pearl accepted his proposal. Josiah knew that. Josiah wasn’t sure why he was even there in the first place, other than showing gratitude to Pearl for watching over Lyle. He wished that was all there was to it. It was hard not to be attracted to a woman as beautiful as Pearl Fikes.
He took a breath and took a step away from the pillar, steadying himself, but stopped when he saw Pete Feders emerge out of the darkness, walking right toward him.
CHAPTER 31
Josiah could smell alcohol on Feders’s breath when he spoke. “What are you doing here, Wolfe? You come to taunt me?”
“I’m just leaving, Captain.” Josiah had to restrain himself not to call him Pete. That would have surely brought out the worst in Feders. It was obvious that it wouldn’t take much to provoke the man to a fistfight. His face was red with rage and embarrassment.
“You saw what happened inside? With Pearl?” Feders asked.
Josiah nodded. “I’m sorry, Captain.”
“Sure you are, Wolfe. I know you carry a torch for Pearl.” Feders gripped both of his hands, then let them fall to his side in tightly balled fists.
Josiah stepped back, putting up both of his own hands, flat out, as if to fend, or warn, off an impending attack. He didn’t want to fight Feders here—or anywhere for that matter. “I have only become acquainted with Pearl Fikes since we returned to Austin in the spring with Captain Fikes’s body. I’m in no position to court a woman like Pearl. You know that. I have a son to raise, and I have chosen my life as a Ranger. That leaves me little time to seek stature or a fortune, one that would entice a woman already of means. Besides that, I don’t know that I can ever love another woman like I did my boy’s mother.”
It was an unusually open confession for Josiah, but he knew he needed to disarm Feders, convince him that a fight wouldn’t solve anything, wouldn’t make Pearl accept his marriage proposal, or make what had just happened in the dining hall disappear from everyone’s mind.
Feders glared at Josiah, his teeth clenched hard, then he drew a deep breath and looked away quickly. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“That’s your right.” Josiah drew a deep breath of his own, preparing to take a chance. “You’ve known me for a long time, Pete. I’ve never double-crossed you or anybody else before, why would I start now?”
Feders narrowed his eyes. “There aren’t too many women in this world that are as beautiful and smart as Pearl Fikes. She is a gracious prize. One worth losing everything to gain, or dying for, as far as I am concerned.”
Josiah wasn’t going to agree or disagree. “Maybe you’re tryin’ too hard, Pete.”
Feders exhaled loudly, then kicked the dirt, sending a heavy clump sailing into the darkness, soiling the shine on his boot. “I lose sight of myself every time I get within a mile of her.”
“I felt that way about Lily. I just had to give her some room. If you smother the sunlight from a bluebonnet, it’s not going to bloom, now is it?”
“I suppose not.”
Silence fell between the two men. They had a history together. Time spent riding together as Rangers before the Frontier Battalion was formed, and after, both of them devoted to Hiram Fikes. He’d known Feders while Lily and the girls were alive, when the whole world for Josiah existed on a small piece of acreage in East Texas.
He ached to return to that little piece of Heaven every minute he was out riding with Fikes and Feders—still did as far as that went.
Josiah and Feders had never been friends, but he trusted his back to Pete then—and he had ever since he joined up with the Frontier Battalion. It had only been recently—ever since Pete took on being a captain—that Josiah began to doubt the man, or at least doubted his leadership capabilities. Pete led by his mood, not his brain like Captain Fikes had. That changed everything.
“I have some news for you, Wolfe,” Feders said. “You have been resolved of any wrongdoing or crime in Comanche. I want you to know that. I want you to know what I did for you, putting my neck on the line and saving yours from the rope. Those folks got a taste of revenge when they hung John Wesley Hardin’s kin, and you’re just a lucky man we showed up when we did or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Your belly wouldn’t be full of good wine and beefsteak.”
Josiah didn’t show the sigh of relief he felt upon hearing the news and the fact that Feders had seemed to
