(Chapter song âSend Me An Angelâ by Scorpions, âDevil Gonna Come' by Raphael Lake)
JESSE After slinging some coin to the bardog, itâs around 9 before I get around to moving Edward. He was still safe, but I still donât feel right. After cracking the shell and spilling the liquid everywhere, I pull him out and put him over my shoulder. I gotta find another spot quick. Before I leave, I watch the last of the shell crumble and turn to dust. Our touch destroys it so it canât be found to tip anyone off.
I use shifter speed to run through the trees. I finally find a small cave. Inside, I set Mr. Fancy pants up again. Itâs half past 2 in the morning before Iâm finished, so I decide to just lay my head here. I grabbed my clothes from town half way through so nobody laid eyes on them. I roll my riders jacket and lay my head on it like Iâve done plenty times before.
I think about the job and what Iâm gonna do with my cut of the 50 thousand, when a weird thought popped into my head.
The lady with the big, brown eyes.
I donât know why Iâm thinking of her. Women are never a subject of interest with me. This one though, I donât know if itâs the way the sunlight hit her skin or how she smelled of vanilla. Thereâs something that has my attention.
I canât get wrapped up in that. This bank job is better than some widowed filly.
I settle myself in for a nap. Place my hat on face and sleep off the bit of whiskey I have left in my gut.
Crows wake me at dawn. The call of the lands devil. Here to remind me of the black soul I carry with me. I sit up and scrub the sleep off my face.
I dreamed about her last night. It was strange because it wasnât like any regular dream Iâve had involving the loose women I usually partake. This was almost spiritual. Whatâs more? It was like she was really here. Her face was almost shining like a star as she laid beside me. Her naked body was taunting me to touch it, but I couldnât.
Itâ¦didnât feel right.
Her auburn hair was spread out around her head and she faces me. She says she sees me inside. She says she knows me and that Iâm not who I think I am. I donât know what sheâs getting at. I know exactly who and what I am.
When I finally decide to touch her, my fingers grazed her skin and I shot awake. I was back in the cave. After, I must of laid there for a good hour. It rattled me. I have no idea what it means.
I shake off the dream and make sure Mr. Pembrooke is cleaned up before leaving the cave. I hide the entrance then walk through the trees to town. Another day and Iâll have the manager down for the mimic. Before I do, I'll head to the ranch and grab the boys.
I come out of the trees and, once again, almost cold cock the pretty lady from town. I bumped her shoulder and she stumbled. I donât know why I didnât hear or see her coming.
I rip my hat off my head. âPlease excuse me, Miss. Iâm so sorry.â I lean to her with concern.
I was expecting her to lambaste me for hitting her, but instead she smiles. âEdward.â She sounds like sheâs happy to see me out here.
I bow a little. âWe just keep running into each other.â I give a little smile back.
She stands proper in her white walking dress and red wrap. âYes, we do. Two chance meetings must not be chance at all. Especially out here of all places. What are you doing out here?â
I needed my demon tongue to work right now. I searched Edwardâs mind. âUmâ¦reading.â I reach into my bag and pull out a book. âI like quiet.â
âI can definitely understand that.â She gives a little giggle. Itâs like bird song. Why is it so soothing to me?
âWell. Iâll let you on your way.â I raise my hat to her.
âAre youâ¦heading to town?â She adjusts her wrap around her shoulders.
âYes.â I nod.
âWalk with me.â Thereâs that feeling again. That one I canât touch.
âItâd be my pleasure.â I motion her to go first.
She ticks her head and continues down the path. I step in line beside her. I shouldnât be doing this. This is the distraction Iâm trying to avoid. Thereâs something she's putting out that makes me not turn her down.
âWhere were you back there?â I ask, casually looking back.
âMy home.â She answers.
âYou live in woods?â I arch a brow.
She looks down and giggles. âNo.â She glances at me. âThe church. Itâs on the other side of the woods.â
This kind of tripped me a bit. âThe church.â I state.
âYes. My fatherâs the preacher.â She supplies.
âThe preachers daughter.â I hold Edwardâs pointed chin up high. âDoes the preachers daughter have a name?â I look to her with a smile.
âPenelope. Penelope Williams. â Her cheeks glow with that light pink color I eyed the day before.
âPenelope.â I say. That feeling rushes through me the minute her name left my lips. âI have to say, thatâs the prettiest name Iâve ever heard.â
She laughs. âNo need for false flattery.â
âMy flattery is never false, Miss.â I lift my hat to her.
Her cheeks flush more. âThank you, Mr...â
âPembrooke. Youâre welcome.â I say quietly.
The dried leaves crunch under our boots as we get closer to town. I know I canât get deep with her, but damn. Her presence stirs me up. Her scent and butterfly wing skin justâ¦scare the shit out of me.
Keep to the plan, Jesse. Keep to the plan.
Once town got close, I glance at her. âWhere we headed today, Miss?â
âPlease. Penelope.â She eyes me with a tiny grin.
âMy apologizes. Penelope.â I tick my head.
âIâm heading to the school house. Iâm meeting with Miss Atwood.â She folds her arms around her.
âSounds lovely.â I say as I place my hands behind my back.
âIt is. The children are wonderful and to see them enjoy what my father teaches warms my heart.â She sounds so soft. I can barely stand it.
âYou teach.â
âYes, I do. A lot of these children donât get to the church so we have Bible study every Thursday.â She says.
âBible study. I think thatâs a very fine idea.â I agree.
âYouâre welcome to sit and listen. Iâm sure Miss Atwood wouldnât mind.â Her big brown eyes get a lick of excitement in them.
I smile. âI appreciate the invitation, Miss, but the Good book is one I havenât felt belongs with me.â
When we arrive at the edge of town, I help her onto the walkway. We walk down the street to the school house.
âThe Lordâs word belongs with everyone, sir.â She holds her hands at her thighs.
When we come to the school house, the children were already gathering in the yard. Miss Atwood, I assume, was with them. She was a handsome woman. Blonde hair, blue eyes like the sky and you can tell she was from across the pond. She held herself proud like a lot of these types do.
Penelope sits on a bench by the schools wooden fence. I remove my hat and sit next to her. âI'm sure the Lordâs word would be a waste on me.â I say as I sit back.
âWhy do you think that?â She turns her pretty disposition to me with question.
âSeveral reasons that are not proper in conversation. It just is.â I straighten my jacket and look up the street.
âYou know He knows. He listens.â She says.
I turn Edwardâs head to her. âYou think the Lord listens?â
She nods. âHeâs always listening, good sir. Heâs also talking. Itâs just up to you if you want to hear him.â
Iâm not a religious man by any means. You canât do what I do and be one with the Good book. I understand what she thinks, but I doubt the Lord converses with the demons.
I adjust myself in my seat. âMiss, the last person the Lord is talking to is me. Men like me donât get conversations or forgiveness that there book talks about.â I slightly lean to her.
âThereâs nothing a man can do thatâs so shameful that Lord will turn his back, Edward. He loves you. He knows you. He knows who you are inside even if you donât know it yourself.â Her eyes meet mine and my brows stitch. My mind immediately goes to the dream. Her eyes flick down to her lap as she pulls her shawl up.
âBelieve me, Miss. The Lord doesnât forgive everyone.â I tick the corner of my lip up. In my 600 years, Iâve seen plenty of men get sent to hell. Forgiveness is not something expected out there. A man can pray. Even beg for it. Itâs not guaranteed he gets it.
She tilts her head and smiles. âThatâs where youâre wrong. Heâs forgiven you already. Itâs you, my dusty friend, who hasnât forgiven yourself. If you struggle with who you are and whatâs to become, itâs because you donât hear. Iâm sure if you take but a moment to sit and listen, youâd find your answers.â
âThereâs no changing a man once heâs set. A book certainly wonât accomplish that.â I cross my leg and fold my hands on my lap.
âI supposeâ¦you may be right. Itâs up to the man to change, but sometimes that change requires guidance. They need to be sent on the path to that change.â She pulls out her Bible. âThese wordsâ¦these are the guidance any man needs to find his direction. I believe with the right words from the right guidance voice, any man can be put on the path of righteousness.â She places her slim, delicate hand on the leather bound cover.
I lower my head and give a little chuckle. I roll my eyes to her. âYou, Miss, have too much faith in people.â
She leans with a little smile. âAnd you, kind sir, donât have enough.â She nods and leans back.
I stand and put my hat on. âMiss, Iâm afraid Iâm anything but kind.â
The school marm rings the bell for school to start. I watch the little girls line up to go in. My heart pains a bit.
Penelope rises and stands in front of me. Almost too close for gossip. âI thinkâ¦Youâre kinder than you present. I see it. I hear your words. I think you hide behind these unforgivable sins because you donât want others to know who you really are. You donât think youâd be accepted and you donât realize thereâs only one you truly need acceptance from.â She smiles and turns away. She heads to the school.
âWho do I need acceptance from?â I call.
She spins and her white skirt billows. She smiles as she walks backwards. Her eyes turn up and she points to the sky. Her eyes then meet mine and her smile grows. She spins back around and joins the children.
I stand there chewing the inside of my cheek. My eyes flick to the sky and back to the school.
The Lord is the last thing I need.
I head back up the boardwalk and stop. The guy who blew in with the tumbleweeds was posted up outside the Sheriffs office. The first thing I notice, the shiny tin on his chest. So, there is a second Sheriff. Should a known this plan would roll snake eyes.
Balls.
I collect myself and walk on by to the corral. I find Mr. Pembrooke's mare.
As Iâm fixing the gear, wouldnât ya know, the catâs curious.
âMr. Pembrooke.â
I put on my fancy pants and turn. âYes.â
He walks that telltale lawman walk as he crosses the threshold. His boots thudding on the wood. His spurs jingle as he walks.
Now, I get a look up close. His dark tanned skin is old and pock marked. His beady, brown eyes look as if theyâre trying to read me. His fingers twitch on the holster on his hip. Heâs looking to start something.
I close my saddle bag. âCan I help you Sheriff?â
He holds out his hand. âSherriff Jackson.â
âSherriff Jackson. Interesting name.â I smile.
âItâs a family name.â He looks around then back at me. âYou were suppose to leavinâ town, were you not?â
âI was, but I wasâ¦delayed.â I answer as posh like as I can be.
âI see. Where were ya last night?â He casually eyes the street then his squinty eyes find mine.
I step a little closer. âWhy is that a concern of the sheriff?â
âWell, a friend of yours reported you missing this morninâ. Clearly youâre not, but Iâm interested to know where a man of your position, went last night?â He crosses his arms and his tin catches the light a flash of sun reminds me of who Iâm talking to.
âI fell asleepâ¦in the desert.â I donât need this lawdog barking up my leg.
âThe desert.â His brow ticks up.
âYes.â I start fixing my hitches. âIâm afraid I had a bit much last night and wandered out to the desert. Woke up with a pounding head.â I chuckle a right dude laugh.
He places his hands back on his hips. âOk, Mr. Pembrooke. I suggest ya find yer friend and let him know yer fine.â
âI will.â I nod to him.
âHave a good day.â He says, gruffly as he tips his hat and I catch something quick. A little gold flicker in his eye before he leaves.
The smile falls off my lips. I donât trust him as far as I can throw a horse against the wind.
I grab the mares reins and saddle up. Kicking her sides, the she turns and we ride down the main street. The Sheriff is leaning on the wall again. I side him as I ride past. He brims his hat and watches me. I feel his eyes. Those looks are personal.
I know who it is.
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