the Ten Commandments. “Things aren’t that simple.”
Dani frowned. “Why not?”
“Patrick’s will gives Beau authority. He’s a blood relative.”
“He’s also dirty and dangerous!” Dani didn’t like her tone, but she felt overwhelmed by emotions. Sadness. Fear. An anger that needed a target. She stared hard at Reverend Blue.
He stared back. “What has Beau done to offend you?”
Dani related Emma’s story about the guns, then described the trip to town. Her skin crawled at the recollection of Beau Morgan behind the window, the way his eyes had narrowed to her face. The more she relived the escape, the more deeply she disliked the man who had made it necessary. She took a breath. “I know you and Mrs. Blue consider Mr. Morgan a friend, but people change. He’s not the man you once knew.”
The Reverend drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Has Beau harmed you in any way?”
“No.”
“Has he been harsh with the girls?”
Dani thought of the blankets in the wagon and felt petty. She recalled his smelly clothes and knew he’d worked hard. He’d sounded threatening, but his actions had been courteous, even caring. “He’s been a perfect gentleman.”
“That’s what I’d expect.” The Reverend looked her in the eye. “Let me tell you about Beau Morgan, Miss Baxter. He was the bravest, most dedicated lawman Denver ever had. He sang in the church choir. He pounded half the nails in my first church and served as a deacon. He put Bibles in jail cells for men who spat on him.”
Dani didn’t want Beau Morgan to be human, someone with a conscience who’d fight her for the girls. “That was five years ago. It’s a long time.”
“So is five minutes,” he said. “That’s how long it took for Beau’s life to change.”
Adie touched Dani’s arm. “This is a horrible story, but you need to understand.”
Dani’s insides spun. “What happened?”
The Reverend’s gaze shifted to the mountains rising in the west. “It started with a gang of horse thieves. Randall Johnson was the leader. I knew him. I knew Clay, too. They were brothers with Randall being the elder.”
“How did you meet them?” Dani couldn’t see the connection between the outlaws and this man of the cloth.
The Reverend’s lips quirked upward. “Same way I met a lot of outlaws back then. I rode into their camp and introduced the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. That was a few months before the horse thieving started.”
Dani sighed. “I guess the message didn’t take.”
“We don’t know,” the Reverend said. “But I do know what happened that day in October. The Johnson gang raided Cobbie Miller’s place. They burned the outbuildings and made off with a dozen good horses. They also abused Cobbie’s two daughters.”
Dani felt both ill and furious.
The Reverend leaned back in his chair. “Cobbie stormed into town with the girls in the wagon, wrapped in blankets and looking pale. He went straight to the sheriff’s office. Beau put together a posse. Three days later, he shot Randall Johnson in a fair fight. I know, because I saw it.”
Dani let out her breath. “Justice was done.”
“Not in Clay Johnson’s mind. His brother was dead and he wanted revenge. He got it by murdering Beau’s wife.”
Dani gasped.
Reverend Blue stared into the distance, but his gaze lacked focus as he traveled to that bitter day in Denver. “It happened a week after Beau shot Randall. Clay sneaked into town and positioned himself on the building across from the sheriff’s office. He must have been up there for hours, but Beau never made rounds that morning. Of all the stupid things, he’d busted his big toe chopping wood.”
Dani blinked and saw Beau Morgan’s sock with his toe poking through the hole. Five years ago, his wife would have darned it. She’d have knit him new ones. Dani didn’t want to ache for him, but she did.
Adie touched her arm. “It’s a hard story to hear.”
“And hard to tell,” said the Reverend.
“Go on,” Dani urged. “I need to know.”
Reverend Blue raised his chin in defiance of what he had to relive. “I know what happened because Beau told me. He’s gone over that moment a thousand times. Maybe more.”
Dani thought of Emma standing at the window, recalling Patrick’s riderless horse and the smell of burned flesh. She heard Beau Morgan telling the child not to talk. He’d been trying to protect her from a heartache that rivaled his own. Dani had judged him as hard, yet he’d been acting with compassion.
Reverend Blue took a deep breath. “Beau was sitting at his desk with his foot on a stool when he saw Lucy pass by the window with a picnic basket. She’d been to the doctor that morning and had come to surprise him.”
Her heart squeezed. A healthy young woman went to the doctor for just one reason. The picnic basket…a surprise for her husband. Tears welled in Dani’s eyes.
Reverend Blue cleared his throat. “In spite of his bad toe, Beau got up to help her. When he opened the door, Johnson fired. Lucy died in Beau’s arms.”
In Wisconsin, Dani could look at a tulip and see God in the petals. She could catch a snowflake and see the divine beauty. Staring at the rippling grass, she saw nothing but Lucy Morgan’s blood and Patrick’s riderless horse. “Where was God?” she said in a whisper.
“Same place He is right now,” said the Reverend.
“I don’t feel Him.”
“I think you do, Miss Baxter.” She felt the Reverend’s gaze on the side of her face. “I see tears in your eyes. Our Lord’s weeping, too. For Beau. For you. For those three little girls. Bad things happen. It’s a fact. But the Lord will see you through.”
“I know that’s true,” Dani murmured. “It has to be true.”
Yet she couldn’t shake the niggling fear that she’d left God in Wisconsin. She looked to the Reverend for comfort but didn’t find it. His eyes were on his wife, blazing with a protectiveness that tore Dani’s heart in two. With Patrick’s death, she could only dream of a man looking at her that way.
The Reverend’s throat twitched with emotion.
Adie’s eyes misted.
Dani’s throat hurt. It tightened even more when the girls spilled out of the stable door. Emma had a blanket draped over her arm. Ellie had the box of kittens and Esther’s little legs pumped as she tried to keep up with her sisters. Dani raised her chin. God had denied her a husband, but she could still be a mother.
The Reverend broke into her thoughts. “I spoke at Lucy’s funeral.” He bit off the last word, as if he could barely say
