Wyoming Promises. Kerri Mountain
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light moved from the door. Bridger fastened the lock before snuffing the lantern and hanging it on the hook outside. She opened the door at the first soft knock. Surprise widened his eyes. The minimal lighting hid her blush at being caught spying, her response coming too quick for anything else.
The man fairly disappeared under the overhang of the porch, which blocked the moonlight. Still, the rustling told her he’d removed his hat as she opened the door.
“I found the box. Looks to me like he was quite a wood smith, ma’am.”
She sucked in a delighted breath, somehow warmed at the observation. “You’re right. And please, call me Lola, remember?”
“All right...Lola. If you’re willing to take a chance on me, I’m more than happy to have the opportunity.” His voice carried whisper-soft on the dry evening wind.
“I’ll expect you next week, then, whenever Ike can spare you. Good night, Bridger.”
“Lola?”
His voice caught her ear before the door closed. “Yes?”
A long pause greeted her, as if he’d tried to word his next comment several ways before speaking it aloud. “I don’t suppose you get many visitors to this door. Will it be all right if I knock here to get the key for the shed?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
She heard an anxious shuffle of feet. “I just thought hearing, uh, unexpected noises back here...even during the day, it might...”
Her mind returned to the strange thud today during Grace’s visit. “It might if I weren’t accustomed to staying here alone.” She hoped her voice hid her lack of bravado. “Most folks aren’t anxious to snoop around this type of business establishment, I suppose.” She managed a ripple of laughter, suddenly realizing the truth of the statement. “Besides, Ike’s men will patrol the town until a suitable sheriff can be elected.”
“I reckon you’re right.” She heard the smile in his voice and an awkward sense of relief. “Just, if there were something...anything that...disturbed you in some way...well, I hope you’ll grow familiar enough with me being around to let me know. Working for Ike, I’d be glad to keep an eye on the place.”
Lola nodded, unsure how she felt about having this man “keeping an eye” on her place. “I appreciate the offer,” she told him, strangely pleased by it in spite of herself. “But I assure you, I know how to handle things, Bridger.” She prayed for truth in that claim.
He stepped forward and leaned toward the door. His eyes glittered in the kitchen light, and the jagged edge of his scar rippled and pulled at the edge of his lip as he spoke. “From the little I’ve seen, Lola, I have no doubt that’s so.”
With that he slid from the porch with a light step. She heard his soft “Good night” as the door creaked closed.
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