Chapter 13
Chapter
Noreen arrived at the jailhouse at six o’clock sharp, a cold supper of ham sandwiches, deviled eggs, and sliced carrots in her basket and optimism in her heart. James Paxton was actually going to help her!
She’d wanted to cook something much finer for him to show her gratitude, but the stores were closed, so she had to make do with what Mrs. Barker had on hand in the boardinghouse kitchen.
Thankfully, her landlady had the necessary staples to bake a pound cake.
The recipe made enough for two loaves, so Noreen left one behind for Mrs. Barker to serve to her boarders that evening along with a few coins to cover the cost of the ingredients she’d utilized.
“Right on time.” James met her at the door with one of his customary smiles and held out a hand to take the basket from her.
Unused to chivalrous offers from men, she found her cheeks warming as she relinquished the supper basket.
“I’m afraid it’s just simple fare this time.” She followed him inside and nearly stumbled over her own feet when she spied the old worktable.
He’d set out plates, forks, and cups for two.
She darted a sideways glance at him as he set the basket on the edge of the table and started taking things out.
He didn’t act like this was anything special.
And it wasn’t like he’d used a tablecloth or picked wildflowers to stick in a jar.
Yet her heart fluttered as she tried to interpret the significance.
Had he been looking forward to sharing a meal with her? Did he view tonight as a . . . romantic encounter?
The very possibility of such a consideration made her stomach tighten in an unsettling manner. Good heavens. Did she actually want him to consider their meeting in such terms?
For pity’s sake. The man had merely set the table. He was probably hungry and wanted to speed things along. Only a dreamy-eyed woman would read anything more into it. Noreen was far too pragmatic to fall into that trap.
Or so she’d thought. The palpitations vibrating through her chest cavity suggested her immunity to such things might be weakening.
“Is this a cake?” He unwrapped the napkin from around the small loaf, then held it near his face and inhaled deeply through his nose. “Mmm. It’s even slightly warm.”
He turned a grin on her that stirred those annoying palpitations into a frenzy, like bees in a jostled hive. Everything inside her buzzed.
Bees sting, Noreen. As do unfulfilled dreams. Remember that.
It might be tempting to look at this kindhearted man and start wishing for more, but only a fool would waste time wishing for something destined to stab her through the heart should she achieve it.
Friendship. Yes, she’d hope for friendship between them. Allies who enjoyed a platonic comradery without the expectation of sharing every secret. Such a relationship would be pleasant, indeed. Safe too. No reason for him to come to hate her if he never learned the truth of her past.
“After you promised to help me, I wanted to do something to show my appreciation.”
He broke off a corner of the cake and popped it into his mouth, then closed his eyes as he enjoyed his pilfered goods. “Mmm. Remind me to put you in my debt more often.”
A startled laugh tickled her chest. “Deputy Paxton! I thought you a law-abiding citizen and here you are stealing bites of cake right before my eyes. I’m shocked.” She tried to sound prim, but she couldn’t seem to restrain the smile that kept stretching out her pursed lips.
He chuckled, and the dancing light in his blue eyes sent delighted tingles coursing through her midsection.
Heavens, but the man was handsome when he laughed.
Something about his lightheartedness drew her in, made the weight of her burdens lift slightly from her shoulders.
Filled her spirit with dangerous levels of optimism.
“No man is perfect, Miss Noreen.” He flipped the napkin back over the top of the cake as if to remove temptation. “I’m afraid you’ve found my weakness.”
“If cake is your only weakness, sir, you are a far better man than most.”
His expression sobered. “Cake’s far from my only weakness.
I also suffer from regular bouts of selfishness.
” He turned his back on the table and faced her fully.
“You apologized to me this morning, but it’s been on my heart the last few days to apologize to you.
You sought my help, and I turned you away, more concerned with ingratiating myself with the voting populace of Shackelford County than aiding one of the people I took an oath to serve and protect.
I let my ambition direct my steps instead of trusting the Lord with that duty.
” He found her hand and clasped it, once again becoming a thief as his touch stole her breath.
“I’m sorry, Noreen. You deserved better from me. ”
Noreen blinked, not trusting her senses, yet his earnest expression was no mirage. He meant every word he said. Every beautiful, affirming, completely wonderful word.
She couldn’t recall a single time her father had apologized to her or told her she deserved better from him.
Not even the time he’d broken the special teacup Grandmother had handed down to her.
In the midst of one of his drunken episodes, he’d just yelled at her to stop blubbering before he gave her a real reason to cry.
Arthur wasn’t much better. He might not have broken any of her childhood treasures after she and Mama came to live with him, but he concerned himself more with pointing out her flaws than admitting to any of his own.
“Thank . . .” Her voice creaked like a rusty hinge, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Thank you for saying that. It . . . it means a lot to me.”
“Well, you mean a lot to me.” His eyes flew wide open, and he dropped her hand as if it had suddenly burst into flame. “As a friend, and . . . you know . . . a member of the community.”
The man’s gaze darted about the room like a hunted rabbit in search of a hole to hide in. Choosing to be amused instead of offended, she grinned as she turned to face the table and removed the lid from the dish holding the deviled eggs.
“Well, as a member of the community, I’m grateful for your consideration. As your cook, however, I think we should set aside this discussion of apologies and focus on eating this food before the ants march in and carry it off.”
James regained some of his equilibrium at her teasing. “Sensible woman, my cook.”
Noreen tossed him a glance over her shoulder. “She hates to see food go to waste.”
“A crime for sure.” He stood straight and tall, puffed out his chest, and jabbed his thumbs beneath his suspenders to give them a pompous stretch. “As a professional crime opposer, I’d be falling down on my civic duty if I allowed such a travesty to occur.”
Noreen chuckled, enjoying his playful spirit.
Between her job at the hotel, her temperance work, and her uneasy family situation, she rarely took time to let go of responsibility and just .
. . play. Her weekly teas with Martha and Jane provided wonderful companionship and sisterly support, but their get-togethers didn’t usually include much laughter or silliness.
James, with his ready smile and droll humor, had a way of lightening her mood and reminding her of the joy to be found in letting go of one’s worries.
After unwrapping the brown paper from the sandwiches and placing three deviled egg halves on his plate and one on hers, she set the carrots within easy reach and claimed her seat on the far side of the table.
James removed his hat and set it on the sheriff’s desk behind him, then joined her at the table.
Folding his hands in front of him, he bowed his head. Noreen did the same.
“Lord, we thank you for this food and for the strength and health it provides. I’m extra thankful not to be eating my own sorry cooking tonight, and I ask you to bless Miss Noreen for her kindness in preparing this meal.”
Eyes closed and head bowed, Noreen grinned at the deputy’s way of mixing formal reverence with a more relaxed conversational style.
“Grant us wisdom, discernment, and courage as we strive to serve you each day, and help us to reflect the love of Christ to all who cross our path. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
“Amen.” Noreen lifted her head and reached for her sandwich as the final words of his prayer rummaged about in her brain.
He’d said them with such ease, as if they were a regular part of his prayer life. And as she considered her interactions with him in recent weeks, she found plenty of evidence pointing to the Lord granting his petition.
“So tell me about your family,” Noreen said as she picked up her sandwich. “Any other lawmen in the bunch?”
James chuckled as he shook his head. “Nope. I’m the odd one out in the Paxton clan.
My oldest brother, Joshua, went into business with my dad running the family ranch.
He and his wife built a house a stone’s throw from my folks and filled it with kids.
Four at last count, though it wouldn’t surprise me if more popped up over the next few years.
Sometimes I think Josh and Judith are competing to see who can provide the most grandchildren.
” His eyes danced as he talked about his siblings, and Noreen suddenly craved hearing more about them.
Were they all as carefree and lighthearted as James? Were family gatherings filled with laughter and fun? How she had envied her classmates with siblings who teased each other, stood up for each other, and trusted each other even when they were at odds.
“Judith is your sister?” She probably should have waited for him to stop chewing before asking, but he didn’t seem to mind. Just hurried along his swallow, then obliged her with an answer.