Page 36 of A Dangerous Heart
“No one deserves endless grief.”
The desolate look in his eyes as he shook his head tore at her. He turned his head away.
“It’s not grief. It’s guilt. I’m guilty of murder, but they won’t lock me away because I’m…I was a U.S. marshal.” His voice was gruff and full of self-loathing.
“No. Judd Pickins killed that boy.”
Isaac shook his head, his gaze drifting to Eli and Ben as they moved farther into the night. The lantern in Ben’s hand bobbed with his steps, its glow flickering like a firefly—there one moment, gone the next.
What could she say? Her own guilt weighed on her chest like consumption. She thought of Anne and the hollow ache she carried since Anne’s death. What would Anne have said?
“No one deserves that kind of pain and grief,” she repeated.Especially not you, Isaac McGraw.“We can’t change what happened in the past. We can only live one day at a time. But we can depend on the God who promises steadfast love and mercy that is new, greeting us like the sunrise, every morning.”
But as the words left her lips, something twisted inside her. She knew them by heart, had heard Anne say them so many times. And she believed them, in this moment, for Isaac. She wanted to truly believe them all the way through, deep inside, for herself.
As time passed, his grip loosened, and in that quiet moment, she smiled to herself, her insides relaxing. In step, they walked hand in hand under the moonlight, taking in the stars twinkling above. The same stars she’d prayed to God under at the farm in Missouri. The same God who would make the sun rise in the morning.Oh God, we both need Your love and mercy.
As they walked, his hand securely in hers, Isaac gazed into the night sky. Then their gazes met, her breath catching atthe warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Their conversation had changed something between them.
“What’s taking you so long?” Eli traipsed up to them. Ben tagged behind, the lantern dangling from his hand.
Isaac released Clare’s hand, and cool air rushed over her skin.
Ben yawned. “I’m tired.”
Isaac reached for the lantern. “Let me carry that. It’s not too far now.”
It’s not too far now.
Isaac had taken a few tenuous steps toward letting Clare in. She longed to do the same, but she knew she couldn’t. The omission of her Barlow name had grown into an unspoken barrier between them. If she revealed it now, she would lose his trust—something she couldn’t afford. The fragile yet precious connection growing between them could be severed, and she wasn’t ready to risk that.
Chapter 9
Isaac had brought her flowers.
Clare dawdled over the jar of flowers in the windowsill, the rag she’d used to wipe down the table after a late lunch still clutched in her hand while her thoughts meandered. The bouquet of mountain poppies, with their papery white petals and sunny yellow centers seemed to smile at her. She shook herself out of her woolgathering, grabbed a shirt in need of mending, and went to sit on the porch step. A cool breeze rattled the curling yellow leaves in the trees as she sewed the frayed edges of a sleeve cuff with tiny stitches.
Boys being boys, Eli and Ben had collected sticks to use as swords. She heard the click, click of their jousting and a few “Ha, I gotchas” in the clearing a few yards away.
It had been a week since the family supper. A week since Isaac had opened up to her. Things between them were changing, slowly but surely. He’d stayed at the table after supper last night, lingering over coffee. Listening to her chatter about the boys.
And then this morning, he’d left after a quick breakfast and a warning to stick close to the cabin. When she’d gone out to fetch water, she’d found two full pails on the stoop. And the prettypoppies. She didn’t want to read too much into the gesture. Isaac remained quiet and guarded.
“Bang!”
She glanced up to see Ben had turned his sword into a gun and was pointing it at Eli.
“You missed,” Eli crowed from behind a tree.
Clare tucked the last bit of ragged shirt sleeve into the cuff and sewed it together.
On the surface, things were going smoothly, but guilt ate at her insides when she thought about the secrets she was keeping.Blood will out. Her father’s words rang in her ears and thickened her throat. If she wanted to stay, wanted to deepen this…friendship with Isaac, she needed to find a way to tell him. Or she needed to figure out a way forward for herself and the boys.
“Come out, Victor Barlow. You’re a bad man, and you’re gonna meet your maker!” Ben shouted.
Eli stepped from behind a tree into the open, his face growing red with outrage.
Clare’s pulse kicked up at the name Barlow. “Eli!” she shouted.
