She did as he bade her, her fingers shaking as she felt as if the world was crumbling around her. The next thing she knew she was seated in front of him, her legs dangling to one side, his arms bracing her against him.
“Hold on,” he murmured against her ear, Ingrid certain that he seemed to draw her closer as they set off at a trot down the drive.
Doing her best to swallow her tears, she thought back to the first time he had swept her into the saddle though she had struggled and fought him. Now she wanted nothing more than this ride to go on forever—no, she would not accept that there was no hope for them, no future! Not when he’d admitted that he felt about her just as she did about him, Joshua falling in love with her just as she knew she had fallen in love with him.
“Shall I paint an even clearer picture for you?” he said almost harshly into her ear as they made their way along the dark street. “Cormac Sutherland isn’t the first man I’ve shot dead, another blight on my soul. His bullet grazed my arm—”
“Oh, Joshua, no!” Ingrid broke in, astonished that she hadn’t seen any injury, though she realized then he favored his left arm even as he held her more tightly.
“I’ve more scars, too, from other bullets that grazed me or ripped into my shoulder, my thigh, my right side. Thank God Doc Davis either saved my life or patched me up every time, just like he did today. The blood wasn’t visible on my dark coat when I came to find you in the dining room, but it’s there, Ingrid. It’s there.”
She lowered her head, not wanting to hear any more, but sensing he wasn’t finished.
“My deputy Billy Braun wasn’t as fortunate, half of his skull blown away. We had to tear his screaming wife away from him so Old Man Beckham could transport his body to the funeral home. She left a short while ago to accompany his coffin on the train to Austin, where he’ll be buried in his family plot. The same fate is what Mary feared would happen to me and why she pleaded every time I took a bullet that I turn in my badge and walk away.”
“Why didn’t you?” Ingrid blurted out, trying to twist around to see his face. “Stubbornness only goes so far! There had to be another reason—”
“Yes, one she refused to accept, that fighting any evil plaguing these streets made Walker Creek a safer place for her and our children. It all rings so hollow now, but I still believe it. That’s why I swore when Mary died that I would never marry again and make another woman suffer as she did—Lord help me,never!”
Her heart sinking at his vehemence, Ingrid felt sick, all hope fled. She was almost relieved when they came to her house, which appeared lit up from every room, Andreas pacing the front porch. At the sight of them her brother ran down the steps to the street, Joshua drawing his horse to a halt to meet him.
“Ingrid was kind enough to stay with my children until I returned home. Forgive me that it’s so late.”
“We were worried, is all. I was almost ready to ride to your house or even the jail—”
“Stay away from the jail, Andreas. Cain and Connor are swearing revenge for their brother’s death and they blame both of us for what’s happened to him. As soon as their two weeks’ sentence is up, I’m going to run them out of town and if they know what’s good for them, they won’t return.”
As Andreas nodded gravely, Joshua eased Ingrid down from the saddle. She saw him wince from pain, which made her feel even more wretched. How could a Sunday that had held such happy promise become like a terrible dream?
“Good night,” Joshua said brusquely, though she swore she saw regret in his gaze, which held hers even as he flicked the reins. “No need to come by the house tomorrow after school. Davy will just have to make up his lessons—”
“Oh, I’ll be there!” she threw back at him, a sudden defiance seizing her. She lifted her chin. “We all have a job to do. I value my work as a teacher as much as you do yours, Sheriff Logan. Good night.”
In spite of how heartbroken she felt, Ingrid took some small satisfaction that he appeared momentarily startled before riding away without another word. Andreas shook his head, looking at her strangely.
“One minute Joshua and the next Sheriff Logan? I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you—”
“Nothing!” she cut him off, chewing her lip to hold the tears at bay as she hastened toward the house. “Absolutely nothing.”
* * *
“So it’s done,” Joshua said bitterly to himself, the streets appearing even darker to him now as he rode back home.
He couldn’t have made it clearer to Ingrid that there could be nothing between them, ever, and she’d reacted as any woman whose feelings had been deeply hurt.
Shock. Sadness. Tears. Yet spirited opposition, too, when he’d suggested that she didn’t need to come by his house tomorrow, which he hadn’t expected. If it wasn’t so dark, he might have seen her blue eyes flashing at him, but anger was just another facet of how wretched she must feel.
He felt wretched, too, though he tried in vain to swallow it down as he approached his house.
Ingrid accompanying him to the stable had also surprised him, but perhaps by seeking answers she had hoped she might change his mind that he wasn’t the right man for her—
“No hope of that,” Joshua bit off. Nothing in heaven and earth would restore his blighted soul and make him the man Ingrid Hagen needed and deserved…
“Oh, dear, I think I’m lost. Yes, I’m sure of it now. Sir, might you be able to assist me?”
Joshua pulled up on the reins, recognizing at once the tiny elderly woman who approached him from the side of the street.
The same woman who’d come out of a shop and cried out for him to hurry when he’d pulled Ingrid onto his horse.
