LITMIR.BIZ

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And many people are stocking up for winter.” Susanna reined the buggy horse to a stop in front of a store with a large sign on the roof reading Winsted’s Mercantile. “Oh, my. Whatever happened here?”

      Broken glass lay on the boardwalk in front of the door and was strewn over items displayed in the shattered window.

      Susanna stepped down from the buggy and tied the horse to a hitching rail. “Come on, Evie. We need to help Mrs. Winsted clean this up.”

      Evangeline followed her, carefully stepping over the shards. Inside the store, she stopped short. Near the counter, Justice stood talking to a woman perhaps in her late fifties, who wrung her hands. Every nuance of his posture and expression bespoke kindness and sympathy for the weeping woman. This was the Justice she recalled from long ago.

      “We followed their tracks south beyond Cat Creek, but they mingled with too many others for us to sort them out.” He set a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll find the men who did this, and before I ship them off to Canon City Penitentiary—” his voice took on a hard edge “—I’ll make them repay every penny it costs to replace your window and any ruined merchandise.”

      While the woman gave him a grateful smile, Evangeline’s heart froze. No, this was not the young man she’d grown up with. True to his name, Justice would see punishment meted out to the vandals. He’d become an unbending lawman and would show her no pity if he learned about her flight from her debts, both real and false.

      “Mrs. Winsted.” Susanna hurried over to embrace the lady. “Let us help you clean up this mess.” She beckoned to Evangeline. “This is my cousin I told you about. You give us a broom and a dustpan, and we’ll make things right as rain in a jiffy.” She looked up over her shoulder at Justice. “Hello, Justice. Are you going to help out or just make promises?”

      He scowled at her and slid a brief glance in Evangeline’s direction, never actually focusing on her face. “Well, of course, I’m going to help, Susanna.” He pulled a pair of leather gloves from his belt and donned them. “You going to run this cleanup, or shall I?”

      If Evangeline weren’t so nervous in his presence, she would laugh. Despite her diminutive size, Susanna had always been bossy and obviously hadn’t changed.

      “Why, I am, of course.” She led Mrs. Winsted to a chair. “Now you sit here and catch your breath, honey, and we’ll take care of everything. Evie, honey, fetch us some of those work gloves.” She pointed to a shelf. “We’ll have Homer Bean—he’s the store clerk—put them on my tab when he gets here. Now, you two get busy.” She waved Evangeline and Justice to work.

      “Guess we’d better do what she says.” Justice’s bemused expression didn’t look entirely sheriff-like.

      “I guess so.” Evangeline’s heart ached to enjoy working beside him, but how could she, when by simply doing his job, he might bring an end to everything she held dear?

      * * *

      When Evangeline sashayed into the mercantile, Justice’s heart kicked up something fierce, and he almost walked out of the store. If not for poor Mrs. Winsted’s dire circumstances, he’d leave bossy Susanna Northam and her cousin to restore order. But after her challenge, he couldn’t shirk his duty. Besides, he might find some clues as to the identity of the vandals among rifle slugs found at the scene.

      “Y’all be careful not to get cut.” Susanna took a broom and began sweeping at the front door. “The glass seems to be sprayed mostly in that direction.” She pointed toward the right side of the store where material, guns, lamps and other wares were displayed. “If we can make a path to the cash register, folks can still buy what they need. Good thing all the food is on this side.” She nodded toward the shelves behind the counter.

      She continued a running commentary about what she was doing and what sorry souls those vandals were and a host of other chatter. Preferring quiet, Justice wished she’d hush up and work quietly like Evangeline. Then he saw Mrs. Winsted stand and give herself a shake.

      “You’re right, Susanna. This isn’t the worst thing ever to happen to me.” The woman brushed away tears, grabbed a pair of gloves and joined the cleanup. “Thank you.”

      Justice cast a questioning glance at Evangeline, who was smiling at her cousin. What had he missed?

      “She’s amazing,” she whispered. “I would have sat beside Mrs. Winsted and cried with her.” She carefully picked up shards of glass from a bolt of material and dropped them into a china bowl.

      Her smile did something odd to Justice’s insides. She was still as beautiful as the young girl he’d fallen in love with. Even more beautiful now that she was a woman. To cover his admiration, he shrugged and went back to work. Women sure did communicate differently than men did.

      He heard a soft intake of breath and jerked his attention back to Evangeline, an odd little fear crowding into him. “Did you cut yourself?”

      “No.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “I just remembered. Today’s your birthday.”

      He scowled. “I suppose so. I don’t really pay much attention anymore.” And yet his chest expanded with foolish pleasure because she recalled it. To deflect her regard before she could say more and have the others notice, he added, “I seem to recall it’s also your anniversary. Same day you got married back in ’76?”

      She winced. More than winced. More like cowered. Here she was trying to be nice, and he’d reminded her of Lucius’s death. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure you miss your husband.”

      Now she actually shuddered. Justice supposed a year wasn’t long enough to grieve such a significant loss. After all these years, he still grieved for his parents. If he were honest with himself, he still grieved over losing Evangeline’s love.

      Nonsense. All water under the bridge.

      “Please accept my belated condolences for your father’s death.” She gazed at him, her blue eyes glistening. “I didn’t know he’d died until—”

      “Thanks.” He cut her off, not wanting to hear her platitudes, even if they were accompanied by tears. Instead, he bent to lift a broken kerosene lamp with a delicate flowered glass shade. “Shame about this.”

      She stood silent for a moment. “Yes. A shame.” Then she went back to work.

      One by one, people began to enter the business, including Homer Bean, the clerk, and most dug in right away to help. Despite the busyness, Susanna managed to introduce Evangeline to everyone, all of whom welcomed her. Despite much conversation, in about an hour, they’d cleaned up the store, and Mrs. Winsted had assessed the damages to her inventory.

      “They didn’t steal anything,” she told Justice. “But some items are beyond repair.”

      “You make me a list and include the cost of each one. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” Justice pocketed the slugs he’d found and fetched his hat from the front counter. “Thanks for your help, folks.” He raised his voice so all the helpers could hear him. “If you hear anything that can help me catch the culprits, let me know. I’ll arrange a reward.”

      He donned his hat and strode out the door. As usual, the good people of Esperanza had come together to help one of their own. Then why did he feel downright depressed?

      Easy question to answer. The woman who’d abandoned him at the moment of his greatest grief was casually weaving her way into the fabric of his town, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her.

      * * *

      “So you’re going to be our librarian.” Mrs. Winsted seemed nicely recovered from shock over her disaster. “Let me show you what we’ve been doing up to now.” She led Evangeline to the back of the store, where numerous books rested on several shelves. “Keeping track of these has been both a privilege and a bother, too often the latter. I don’t have time to chase people down when books are due back for the next person who

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