Chapter Nineteen
Faith rose immediatelyfrom her seat on the back porch, the man’s sudden presence setting her heart to beating faster and her arms to tingling. Not many folks came by the post and telegraph office this late, unless it was an urgent matter. She greeted the man and asked, “Did you need to send a telegram?”
He removed his hat and took a few steps forward, until he was on the steps that led up to the porch. Though the light was fading in the sky, Faith could make out his features when he was but mere steps away from her. And when she did, she forced herself not to react. The man was hardly pleasant looking, with a long scar that ended where hair ought to be behind his right temple, shoulders that looked as if they wouldn’t fit through a doorway, and an expression so intimidating that it took all of Faith’s will not to back up into the safety of the house.
She swallowed and forced herself to remain where she was, all the while wondering why this stranger had come to her back door instead of to the office around front.
“No, ma’am,” he finally said, his voice bearing an accent that was similar to the one that lightly peppered Beau’s words. “My business here is something other than telegrams or posting letters.” He attempted to smile then, and the effect was enough to send up an immediate warning in Faith’s mind.
She stood where she was, unwilling to give this man the satisfaction of knowing he’d unsettled her. But her mind was anything but still as it flew through options. There was a pistol behind the counter in the office in the front room. That was too far away to be of use now. It had been part of a set of two, but the other was somewhere out on the plains where Aaron had perished, along with the shotgun. Why hadn’t she thought of replacing the shotgun?
Beau had likely taken his own guns with him. There was a good, sharp knife in the kitchen, if it came to that.
Faith prayed it wouldn’t.
Leave, she thought.Go away and let me be.
“I presume you’re Mrs. Landry?” he asked, that accented drawl making her heart ache for Beau. She hadn’t let herself dwell on it too much during the day, but she missed him deeply. If only he were here now.
“I am.” Her voice was steady, and she tried to concentrate on appearing unflappable, as scared as she truly was.
“I’ve been wanting to speak with your husband, but I haven’t seen him around. Is he inside?” The man’s eyes flicked to the door behind Faith.
“What is your business with Mr. Landry?” she asked instead of answering his question. If she told him Beau was inside, he’d want to speak with him. But if she told him he wasn’t . . . she didn’t know what might happen.
He tried to smile again, but the effect was unnerving. “Well, that’s between myself and Landry, no?”
“He’s gone to sleep,” she said. “You’ll have to return tomorrow.”
“Wake him, then. This is important. I came clear up here from Louisiana to have a talk with him.” The man ascended the remaining steps and leaned one of his massive shoulders against the same post Beau had leaned against the day before.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible. You must return tomorrow.” Faith stood as tall as she possibly could before beginning to step backward toward the door. If she could slip inside quickly and shut the door, she might have a chance at bolting it before the man could react.
“No,cher, that is impossible.”
Faith recoiled at his use of the same term of endearment Beau had used for her. It felt ugly coming from this man’s lips, as if the word had fallen into the mud and manure that filled the dirt road out front when it rained. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave immediately, but before she could let out a single sound, he’d reached for her arm and clenched it beneath his paw of a hand.
