Chapter Two

      After supper at Susanna’s house, Evangeline and her cousin settled the children into bed in the rooms they’d share with the three Northam children. At nine years old, Lizzie displayed her mother’s gift for hospitality, welcoming Isabelle as the younger sister she’d always wanted. Gerard actually behaved himself with six-year-old Natty, otherwise known as Nathaniel Junior, and two-year-old Frankie. Gerard probably behaved because the smaller boys looked up to him. Once they all fell asleep, Evangeline and Susanna joined Nate in their lovely parlor.

      The moment she sat in the pink-flowered brocade chair Susanna indicated, emotion overtook her, and she burst into tears, as much to her own surprise as to her hosts’. Susanna rushed to her, knelt and pulled her into a comforting embrace.

      “There, there, Evie, don’t cry. You’re here now, and everything’s going to be all right.”

      Evangeline shook her head. “N-no it won’t be.”

      “Nonsense. You’re just tired—”

      “Sweetheart,” Nate said patiently, “let her speak. I’d imagine she has a lot to tell us.”

      “Oh. Oh, yes, of course.” Susanna stood and drew Evangeline over to the settee where they could link arms. Her warm contact brought much-welcomed comfort. “All right, honey, you talk. I promise not to interrupt.” She sent Nate a sweet smile.

      Envying their beautiful marriage, Evangeline shed a few more tears before dabbing her cheeks with the handkerchief her cousin offered. “Where to begin?”

      “Well, I’ve been wanting to know...” Susanna sent Nate a sheepish grin. “I promised not to interrupt, but this is important. You could have knocked me over with a feather when you and our Justice Gareau recognized each other, so now I have to know. Is he the secret beau you used to talk about when we were girls? Wouldn’t that be romantic? And here you’ll be working with him on the Christmas village.”

      “That was a long time ago and a world away.” Evangeline dried a few more tears. Dear Susanna. She was not only her cousin but the dearest, truest friend she’d ever had. Kindness personified. Would she still love Evangeline once she knew the truth about her flight from New Orleans?

      With many pauses to control her emotions, she managed to tell her story, or at least as much as she could bring herself to say. Above all, she didn’t want to sound as though she were begging for pity or help.

      “I’m sure you remember our last summer together,” she told Susanna. “The year we both turned seventeen.” She added the detail for Nate’s benefit. “Mama died shortly after we went home to New Orleans.” She wouldn’t add that Mama had discovered Papa’s shady business dealings and had become sick with shame, dying soon afterward.

      “Papa arranged my marriage to Lucius Benoit, an older man who’d recently become his business partner.” Papa hadn’t given her any choice in the matter. Still, she wouldn’t recount how much she’d loved Justice and how her father’s cruel intervention had nearly destroyed her.

      “Gerard was born the first year, and Isabelle three years later. After that, Lucius became involved in his work, as men do, so we rarely saw him.” She wouldn’t speak of Lucius’s brutality. Near the end, before he was shot, he admitted he’d married her for Papa’s money. But Papa had no money. He’d arranged the marriage thinking Lucius’s supposed fortune would pull their business out of debt. What a bitter irony for both men. And she’d been the pawn in the middle. While Lucius made her pay for it, shame over his beatings kept her silent about them.

      “When he died—” she wouldn’t tell them how he’d met his end “—he left a few debts, which I plan to pay back over time.”

      “How much debt?” Nate leaned toward her, perhaps to offer help. She couldn’t let him.

      “Oh, not much in the grand scheme of things.” She waved a hand dismissively to deflect further questions. After all, it was her business, and hers alone, how much she owed Lucius’s cousin, Hugo. The other supposed debts from various merchants hadn’t been hers at all, but Hugo claimed they were, claimed he possessed notes she’d signed for gowns and hats and shoes. She couldn’t fight against such false charges when no one believed her. If Justice learned she’d fled her supposed creditors, he would surely arrest her.

      Nate sat back, his forehead furrowed. “Last winter was pretty harsh, and we lost a lot of cattle, but we expect this year’s herd to put us on the road to financial recovery. If you need help, we might be able to work something out.”

      “You’re very kind, but you really needn’t bother. Now with my job at the library—” she squeezed Susanna’s hand in gratitude “—I’ll start putting away money. And the children can work as they get older.” She managed a teasing smile. “Maybe you could teach Gerard to be a cowboy.”

      Nate winced and studied his hands. “Maybe I could. We’ll see.”

      Evangeline dabbed her damp cheeks again. “Please promise me you won’t tell anyone about this, especially Justice.”

      While Susanna gave her an enthusiastic nod, Nate ran a hand down his cheek.

      “I don’t know.” His eyes revealed his disapproval. “Since you haven’t done anything wrong, I don’t suppose Justice needs to know, at least not right now. But you should probably tell him someday for the sake of your old friendship.”

      “I’m sure you’re right.” Evangeline wouldn’t correct him about not having done anything wrong, or he might change his mind. As difficult as her past had been, her only goal now was to rear her precious children in safety and security. Once they were grown and on their own, she’d return to New Orleans and find some way to repay Hugo what she owed him. Whatever she found to do, it could never be as bad as what he’d demanded of her. As for those merchants and the notes she supposedly signed, it was a problem she had no idea how to solve.

      * * *

      In his small apartment over the jailhouse, Justice lay on his bed fully dressed because it was his night to be on alert for any mischief in town. Esperanza never had such troubles, but Justice and his deputy still traded off nights to keep watch. Sean was probably sawing logs in his rented room over at Starlings. As for Justice, he couldn’t sleep for thinking about Evangeline. Her beautiful face, which wily Susanna had arranged for him to observe over dinner, bore a haunted look. Was it grief over that scoundrel Benoit? Justice wondered how the man had died, and whether it was his death that had put a burr under the saddle of his sullen boy.

      Justice was nineteen when his own father died. A godly, honest man, Father had been ruined by the shady dealings of his business partners, Evangeline’s father and Lucius Benoit, who’d put all the blame for the business’s losses on Benjamin Gareau to save their own necks. Having just returned from Europe, Justice had been too young, too inexperienced, too grief-stricken to investigate the particulars. The same day Father died, the day Justice needed Evangeline’s support more than ever, she’d refused to see him, instead choosing to marry Benoit.

      If he could have spoken to her back then, he would have promised he’d work hard to prepare a comfortable life for the two of them, but she didn’t care enough even to bid him adieu. With Mother already long in her grave, he hadn’t seen any reason to stay in New Orleans, so he’d sold the house and furnishings his father left him to pay off his debts, then lit out for Texas. After trying his hand as a cowboy and doing many foolish things in bad company, he’d signed on with the Texas Rangers. Jubal Tucker