Page 71 of The Ranger

Maida’s heart sank at the realization, along with something else, as if her very soul didn’t like the thought either. “I... I don’t know.”

Grandma stopped and turned to Markhel who walked a few paces behind them. “How about you, are you okay?”

Maida looked at him. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I am fine.” His eyes gravitated to Maida, only this time he didn’t just look at her, he seemed to lookintoher. “What... what are you doing?”

His head cocked slightly to one side. “Little one,” he said, his voice so soft she went weak in the knees. “You will tell me if you are feeling unwell.”

It was not a question. “Um, yes?”

He gave her the gentlest smile she’d ever seen from him. “That is good.” He started walking, putting a hand to the small of her back to get her going. His hand was like fire and warmed her entire being. How could that be?

“You okay, Maida?” Grandma asked. She eyed Markhel.

He smiled back.

Maida kept looking between the two as she was sandwiched in the middle. “I’m fine.” She was more than fine. She felt fantastic! Though he’d removed his hand, her body was still deliciously warm from his touch. Was this normal? If it was, she didn’t dare ask Mama or Grandma Sadie. Her gut told her they didn’t approve of Markhel. One more reason she needed to get it through her calf-eyed brain that nothing could come of being sweet on the man. He was leaving with the Bergs, and her family wouldn’t approve of him anyway. He was too wild and dangerous. Or at least, he looked that way. But after what she just saw, the gentle look, the tender words, she knew he would never harm her.

They reached the mercantile and went inside. “Irene?” Grandma called.

“I’m in the back!”

“Come along younguns.” Grandma headed for the curtain that separated the front and back of the mercantile.

Maida stepped through, glanced at the staircase that went up to the Dunnigans’ living quarters, then followed Grandma. Mrs. Dunnigan was bent over a bucket of wet paint. She also had a rolled-up piece of white canvas nearby.

Grandma looked at it and clapped her hands. “Why Irene, is that what I think it is?”

Mrs. Dunnigan straightened with a huff. “It is. I got tired of folks using sheets for banners. Makes us look uncivilized. So I ordered a few street banners that we can re-use. All you have to do is paint them white again and they’re ready for another use.”

““Wonderful!” Grandma pointed at it. “Markhel, take that.”

He picked it up without a word.

“Why not paint it back here?” Mrs. Dunnigan suggested. “There’s room enough. Just don’t get paint on my floor.”

Grandma looked around. “Fine. But just in case, you got something to cover the floor with?”

Mrs. Dunnigan huffed again then disappeared upstairs. She wasn’t gone long before Wilfred, her husband came down.

Maida smiled. She loved Wilfred Dunnigan. He was a kindly old man with a twinkle in his eye, and about the only person in town who could handle his wife when she became extra cranky. But over the last couple of years, she’d hadn’t been as crochety. Everyone thought she was getting grouchier because she was losing her hearing, but that seemed to be better too.

“Markhel, set the banner down,” Grandma said, “and let’s find the blue paint. Irene done got the red already.”

Maida watched him put the banner on the floor. He looked at her as he straightened and smiled.

She smiled back, a blush creeping into her cheeks. It was nice getting to spend some time with him, and she hoped no one interrupted them while they worked.

“Well,” Wilfred drawled. “If it ain’t Mr. Markhel. “Where have you been?”

Markhel smiled at him. “Elsewhere.”

Wilfred laughed. “Far away, I take it?”

“Very.”

Wilfred laughed some more. “I understand. We’ll have to have a little visit later.” He smiled at Maida. “How about you, how have you been?”