Page 41 of Wyoming Promises
She returned a tremulous smile. “I understand.”
Bridger understood, too, with sharp, sudden clarity. A woman who had feelings for a man wasn’t always the best judge of character, he knew from experience. No matter how many folks tried to step in and help, hadn’t Mother denied them all to stay with their father? Despite the alcohol, the fighting?
He looked at Lola. Knowing so much but still trusting. Maybe too much so. Enough that, in spite of whatever caused their wedding to be called off, she still didn’t fully see the kind of man Ike was.
And if her judgment had proved wrong once, how much merit did her confidence in his story hold? Her forgiving nature, Ike’s renewed attentiveness and Lola’s vulnerability caused her suspicions to wane, it seemed—while the marshal’s questions focused his own. Ike eagerly helped anyone who could profit him in some way, he noticed. Lola’s beauty and community ties would advance Ike’s standing, just as Toby’s construction knowledge established a fine hotel and Mattie’s vivacious personality drew business. Ike paid well, for certain—and held it out like a carrot on a stick to make a mule move. Which begged the question—how was Ike using him?
Figuring it out mattered more than ever. Because Jake Anderson wasn’t here only to ask questions about the sheriff’s death—he intended to investigate Ike Tyler, too.
Chapter Twelve
Lola drew her shawl. Burdens of the day weighed heavy, and she longed to slip into cool blankets and sleep until the sun blinked in her eyes.
A soft knock at the door provided welcome distraction from her cares. At least this call came to her home, not the business. Maybe Bridger needed something before he left in the morning, or perhaps Jake had more questions. She didn’t know what else she could tell him. Her thoughts were foggy and jumbled from their discussion earlier in the day. What was happening in this town?
She peeked out the window. Ike waited at the front step, his tall frame rocking from heel to toe. At least he didn’t bring business. She hoped. She opened the door to the cool night air.
“Good evening, Lola!” He leaned toward her with his hand against the doorframe above her head. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I know you haven’t had an easy day. I wanted to see how you’re holding up. I hope I didn’t startle you.”
A sigh escaped as weariness flared. “No, though I am surprised to see you running patrols.”
His eyes glowed in the faint moonlight, shadows casting an unpleasant ring around them. “Mattie can handle the saloon for a while, with my men to back her up. Besides, this is a patrol of a more personal nature.” He grinned, a hint of the boy she once knew. “I wanted to remind you that my care for you far outreaches my concern for this town.”
She rested against the opposite side of the jamb, warmed by his thoughtfulness. “It hurts to say goodbye to good people—so many dear friends—but I’ll be all right. It’s what I do.”
It eased her heart to talk, but considering the impression Mr. Anthony had held of Ike, it felt wrong to share too much. “I appreciate you stopping by, Ike. But it has been a long day, and it’s about time for me to turn in. Everything here is closed up tight.”
“That’s good, good,” he whispered. He shifted closer, his gaze searching her face. “I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am about Cecil. He and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but I know you had a soft spot for him.”
The knot in her chest slipped loose and tears washed her eyes. “He was the grandfather I never knew. I’ll miss him terribly.”
Ike’s cold fingers grasped her elbow within her thick cape. A shiver quaked through her, and she drew the cover close about her neck.
Ike smoothed his mustache. “I’m sure he felt the same about you. He made it his mission to keep any would-be suitors away, that’s for sure,” he said. “I propose to do the same, Lola.”
“I appreciate the thought, but you have a whole town to watch after, until a new sheriff can be chosen. I’m sure you’ll be glad to have that position filled so you can focus on your own business.”
“We want to be sure we have the right man for the job, so there’s no hurry to find a replacement. Besides, my men and I have done fairly well, wouldn’t you agree?” He slid his arm to her shoulder. “I’m tempted to apply for the position myself. ‘Sheriff’ is a more acceptable title than ‘saloonkeeper,’ is it not?”
Papa certainly might have found it so. “I’m in no position to judge you, Ike. There are those in this town who would say it’s not honorable for a woman to do the job I’m doing. What matters is that your intentions bring honor to God.”