* *
When Evangeline sashayed into the mercantile, Justice’s heart kicked up something fierce, and he almost walked out of the store. If not for poor Mrs. Winsted’s dire circumstances, he’d leave bossy Susanna Northam and her cousin to restore order. But after her challenge, he couldn’t shirk his duty. Besides, he might find some clues as to the identity of the vandals among rifle slugs found at the scene.
“Y’all be careful not to get cut.” Susanna took a broom and began sweeping at the front door. “The glass seems to be sprayed mostly in that direction.” She pointed toward the right side of the store where material, guns, lamps and other wares were displayed. “If we can make a path to the cash register, folks can still buy what they need. Good thing all the food is on this side.” She nodded toward the shelves behind the counter.
She continued a running commentary about what she was doing and what sorry souls those vandals were and a host of other chatter. Preferring quiet, Justice wished she’d hush up and work quietly like Evangeline. Then he saw Mrs. Winsted stand and give herself a shake.
“You’re right, Susanna. This isn’t the worst thing ever to happen to me.” The woman brushed away tears, grabbed a pair of gloves and joined the cleanup. “Thank you.”
Justice cast a questioning glance at Evangeline, who was smiling at her cousin. What had he missed?
“She’s amazing,” she whispered. “I would have sat beside Mrs. Winsted and cried with her.” She carefully picked up shards of glass from a bolt of material and dropped them into a china bowl.
Her smile did something odd to Justice’s insides. She was still as beautiful as the young girl he’d fallen in love with. Even more beautiful now that she was a woman. To cover his admiration, he shrugged and went back to work. Women sure did communicate differently than men did.
He heard a soft intake of breath and jerked his attention back to Evangeline, an odd little fear crowding into him. “Did you cut yourself?”
“No.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “I just remembered. Today’s your birthday.”
He scowled. “I suppose so. I don’t really pay much attention anymore.” And yet his chest expanded with foolish pleasure because she recalled it. To deflect her regard before she could say more and have the others notice, he added, “I seem to recall it’s also your anniversary. Same day you got married back in ’76?”
She winced. More than winced. More like cowered. Here she was trying to be nice, and he’d reminded her of Lucius’s death. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure you miss your husband.”
Now she actually shuddered. Justice supposed a year wasn’t long enough to grieve such a significant loss. After all these years, he still grieved for his parents. If he were honest with himself, he still grieved over losing Evangeline’s love.
Nonsense. All water under the bridge.
“Please accept my belated condolences for your father’s death.” She gazed at him, her blue eyes glistening. “I didn’t know he’d died until—”
“Thanks.” He cut her off, not wanting to hear her platitudes, even if they were accompanied by tears. Instead, he bent to lift a broken kerosene lamp with a delicate flowered glass shade. “Shame about this.”
She stood silent for a moment. “Yes. A shame.” Then she went back to work.
One by one, people began to enter the business, including Homer Bean, the clerk, and most dug in right away to help. Despite the busyness, Susanna managed to introduce Evangeline to everyone, all of whom welcomed her. Despite much conversation, in about an hour, they’d cleaned up the store, and Mrs. Winsted had assessed the damages to her inventory.
“They didn’t steal anything,” she told Justice. “But some items are beyond repair.”
“You make me a list and include the cost of each one. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” Justice pocketed the slugs he’d found and fetched his hat from the front counter. “Thanks for your help, folks.” He raised his voice so all the helpers could hear him. “If you hear anything that can help me catch the culprits, let me know. I’ll arrange a reward.”
He donned his hat and strode out the door. As usual, the good people of Esperanza had come together to help one of their own. Then why did he feel downright depressed?
Easy question to answer. The woman who’d abandoned him at the moment of his greatest grief was casually weaving her way into the fabric of his town, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her.
* * *
“So you’re going to be our librarian.” Mrs. Winsted seemed nicely recovered from shock over her disaster. “Let me show you what we’ve been doing up to now.” She led Evangeline to the back of the store, where numerous books rested on several shelves. “Keeping track of these has been both a privilege and a bother, too often the latter. I don’t have time to chase people down when books are due back for the next person who wants to read them.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind my taking the books?” The last thing Evangeline wanted was to have one more person in Esperanza who held something against her. The hour working side by side with Justice nearly undid her.
“Not at all. It’s a relief.” Mrs. Winsted tilted her head toward the nearby barred window behind which were mail slots. “In addition to running my store, I’m also the postmistress, so I have plenty to do.”
“Why, yes. You were the one who knew Susanna’s maiden name and passed my letter along to her.”
“That’s right.” The lady appeared pleased to have her clever work remembered. “She was delighted to hear from you.”
They each spoke of their mutual affection for Susanna and for her father, who now lived in a small town in the southern part of the San Luis Valley with his second wife. Evangeline remembered Edward MacAndrews as a kind, loving father and uncle. What she didn’t tell Mrs. Winsted was how differently Edward Junior turned out. Once he found out his widowed father married a Mexican lady, he told all of their relatives Susanna and their father died on their trip west. When Evangeline realized she needed to flee New Orleans, she wrote to Edward in Georgia for help. He forbade her to come to Marietta but said she might find Susanna in Esperanza, Colorado. Shocked at his rejection but overjoyed to learn Susanna was alive after all, Evangeline had written to her. She’d posted the letter in a small town outside of New Orleans to throw Hugo off in case he tried to track her. But with his equally dishonest friends hiding behind every bush, she couldn’t be sure her ruse was successful.
“I’d best get back to work.” Mrs. Winsted stepped toward the counter where her clerk was busily serving customers. “Thank you for your help, everyone.”
“We were glad to do it.” Susanna approached from the other direction, her arms loaded with bolts of fabric. “Mrs. Winsted, I’ll take these. Evie and I have a lot of sewing to do.”
“But, my dear, some of them are damaged.” The storekeeper fingered the torn material. “Let me cut off the ruined parts.”
“Nonsense.” Susanna tugged the bolts away from her. “We can use all of it, even the small pieces. Lizzie and Isabelle can make clothes for their dolls, and we can make ragdolls for children coming to the Christmas party.” She
