Page 29 of Wyoming Promises
“That’s understandable.” He set the tray on a cleared space. “Did your father keep the finished coffins somewhere else?”
She drew slender arms around herself, glancing around. “No, no, they were stored here. I always asked Ike to send someone to move one inside as I needed it. I can’t believe we’ve used so many since Papa died.”
Bridger frowned. “That so?”
Lola nodded. “Lots of new faces passing through, and not all of them interested in following the law. Why, we had a gunfight right in the middle of town a few months ago. Quiver Creek is growing faster than we’re able to handle. Pete tried to convince the town council to hire on a couple of deputies, full time.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. What happened?”
“The council said they couldn’t afford it right now and praised the fine work he was doing on his own. Pete couldn’t even stir up interest with the local business owners to hire more help. They said it was Pete’s job and he should focus on doing it.”
Bridger leaned against the bench and crossed his arms. He’d been through plenty of these towns to know local lawmen often had enough power to break the laws they were sworn to uphold. “Did he?”
Fire sparked in Lola’s gaze. A nervous lump lodged in his throat, as if he were a man facing a minister from a jail cell.
She stared him down, her expression like ice. “No man could have done it better. Pete McKenna was a strong, wise and Godly man, and we were fortunate to have him watching over this town.”
He held up a hand in surrender, wishing he’d thought how the question might sound before he’d spit it out. “No offense, ma’am. I haven’t always had such experience with the law out here. No doubt they have a tough job, but sometimes they take liberties that don’t measure up to what a lawman should be.”
She didn’t retreat, and her voice grew low. “Pardon me if your vast experience with lawmen gives me concern!”
Bridger stood upright. “It’s not like that, Lola. I’m just saying—”
“I’m saying not Pete.” Her green eyes grew wider and glassy with tears. “I’m sorry. I have no right to judge you. But you’re wrong. Between the rowdies passing through, the town growing so fast and the accidents we’ve had around here, no one man could handle it all. It was bound to catch up to him, and it did, and we as a community allowed it by ignoring him.”
Bridger stepped closer but refrained from reaching out. Instead, he dipped his head to catch her gaze. “I meant no offense, Lola. I can see you put great stock in him. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything about his character. I didn’t even know him, so I had no business suggesting he was anything less than honorable, as you say.”
She brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t fair to accuse you so quickly, either. We’ve had more than our share of grief and sadness in Quiver Creek these past few months. I’m praying for a better season ahead.”
Bridger nodded. “I hope for your sake that’s the case.” He turned to the tray, his appetite dulled. “I’m especially sorry to upset you after you went to the trouble of this fine lunch.”
Lola managed a shaky smile. “I’m sorry I allowed my lack of sleep and temper to get the best of me so that you’re forced to eat it cooled.”
“Let’s say we’re sort of even, then, and start where we were a half hour ago,” he said.
“Who’s to say I trusted you half an hour ago?” Her eyes lit with humor, but he recognized the truth in her jest.
His breathing eased as he focused on her guarded expression. “You offered me lunch and gave me the key to your father’s woodshop. At least I’m on the right track.”
* * *
Lola clipped along the rough boards on her way to Anthony’s General Store. The sun’s long rays soaked into her soul.
But thoughts of Bridger cast a cool shadow. He seemed determined to tear her down the middle. How dare he cast doubt on Pete’s character! The nerve he had, being able and willing to help when she wanted nothing to do with him! And then offering a sincere apology when he ruffled her, only to make her hearken to the window every time a wagon rumbled, hoping to talk with him again. Even his church attendance brought a sense of irritation. Her mind had never been so divided.
She drew a breath, sifting through the mingled scents of melted snows, mountain breezes and early growth. She determined to put the handsome carpenter from her mind.
Her heart lightened with thanks for the early spring. Papa would have been itching to turn ground for their small garden, though it remained too early for that yet. She looked at the rugged peaks and forced a smile. Papa wouldn’t want her to be gloomy or vexed, especially on a day as lovely as this. She swung an empty basket on her arm and opened the door. A soft jingle announced her arrival.