“Mr. Hargadon,” Faith said. Her voice sounded like music.
“Miss Gaines,” Royce greeted.
“Have we met,” Faith asked perplexed by his greeting.
“I’ve met three of your sisters. There can be no mistake you are Faith Gaines,” Royce replied and was rewarded with a smile. A sparkle came into the young woman’s brown eyes. They were flecked with gold and Royce tried to remember which of her younger sisters had tints of gold in her eyes.
“Yes,” Faith answered in acknowledgement. She and her sisters did look alike. “I saw you out the back window. It is a chilly day and wondered if you wanted to come in for a cup of coffee.”
“Yes, thank you,” Royce replied. Whatever he had expected it was not an invitation to come in out of the cold by Faith Gaines.
“Did you know Mr. Dean,” Faith asked looking at the plain wooden marker.
“Mr. Dean,” Royce replied. Not committing to a yes or no answer.
“The poor man was murdered,” Faith declared. “My father found him.” Faith took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning her attention back to Royce. The gold flecks in her eyes were more pronounced. She pressed her lips into a straight line their color deepening to red. “I knew him a little,” Faith continued when Royce did not comment. “We talked a few times. Casual hellos you understand. Our days are numbered on this earth,” she continued in soft tones. “Father says every death has a purpose. Yet, it is sad when a young man’s life is taken from him.”
“Every death has a purpose,” Royce repeated thoughtfully. Not sure he understood the reasoning behind Faith’s statement.
“I am a Minister’s daughter,” Faith explained, her features softening. “We may never know the events Mr. Dean’s death has set in motion. We seldom know these things. Still the ripples were sent out. Father says it is like when a stone is tossed into the creek. Circles spread out changing the surface of the water. A death is like that. Ripples pass through our lives altering events even if we don’t see them or realize changes are happening.” She laughed softly. “Enough of my preaching,” Faith declared self consciously. She rubbed her hands over the long sleeves of her brown dress. The weather was cool.
Royce walked beside Faith across the cemetery wondering if his days were nearing an end. He was on the same trail that led Marshal Dean to his death. The Barlow Gang was ruthless killers. He could not recall the number of people killed by Barlow and his men. The outlaw must be stopped and it was now his job to stop him. Whether Faith Gaines was aware of it or not Marshal Dean had indicated she held a key to unraveling the mystery behind Barlow’s identity.
“The weather is turning cold. I love winter,” Faith said with a charming laugh. “That is until winter actually arrives,” she admitted ruefully. “When cold winds blow in the cracks around the windows and under the doors I wish it was warm once again. Father says we humans are never satisfied with what we have today and always want what we expect from tomorrow. Perhaps he is right.”
“If humans were satisfied,” Royce stopped abruptly. He had been about to say his job would be simpler. As a teacher that statement would not be true. “With what they have there would be less violence in the world,” Royce substituted hoping Faith had not noticed his hesitation.
Under the trees the sun had not burnt moisture off the grass. Faith stopped on the back porch and on a crochet matt wiped dampness from her shoes. Faith’s rapt expression touched Royce’s heart. She was truly a beautiful woman. But, it was not her beauty that fascinated him the most. It was his feeling of contentment in her presence. He had never felt this way around a woman before.
He followed Faith into the kitchen. Mrs. Gaines was standing in front of the stove stirring the contents of a pan. “Mr. Hargadon,” she greeted. She was a soft spoken woman. Her golden hair was untouched by gray. Her eyes were cherry brown like Valerie and shone warmly. Her cameo complexion was like Elizabeth.
“I see where your daughters get their beauty,” Royce said without first stopping to think. Heat surged into his face. “I beg your pardon,” he stuttered.
“Please don’t apologize,” Mrs. Gaines said her voice soft and husky. “That was the nicest compliment I’ve received in years. Vanity doesn’t hurt when received in small doses,” she went on to explain.
“No ma’am,” Royce replied remembering belatedly to remove his hat. It was not often he was in the presence of genteel ladies. He glanced through the doorway into a dining room and wondered if his manners were up to being entertained by Miss Gaines. He was more accustomed to saloon women and shady ladies. That is when he was around women at all. Not many women rode the back trails or consorted with outlaws. He breathed a sigh of relief when Mrs. Gaines set a cup and saucer on the kitchen table.
“We don’t stand on ceremony,” Mrs. Gaines declared. “I learnt as a child that sitting around the kitchen table is friendlier.” The smile in Mrs. Gaines eyes was sympathetic. She had noticed Royce was uncomfortable in their presence.
“Yes ma’am,” Royce agreed and gulped for air. “I am more accustomed to children,” he lied and felt heat rise in his face. He was lying to a Minister’s wife. Even for a good cause he wondered if he was condemning his soul on judgment day. He had never worried over the future. Feeling somehow his doing so now had something to do with Faith Gaines.
Royce waited until Faith was seated before pulling out his chair. His green eyes looked troubled. Was he about to make another blunder. Faith apparently was not conscious of his growing discomfort.
“Cream and sugar,” Mrs. Gaines asked standing at Royce’s elbow.
Royce was startled by her question until he
