“Yes. Accept my family’s invitation for Sunday, and let me . . .” He paused. “Let me ask the reverend’s permission to come courting.”
Casey could only stare, afraid to utter a word and afraid not to. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You know who I am, Morgan. You know my past. We can only speculate the future. I’d like to think I’m safe, but that’s craziness. But what you’re asking me is well, frightening.”
“For me, too.”
“I thought I recognized that voice,” the reverend said. “My, you’re here early, Morgan. Anything wrong?”
“No, sir. I’m visiting.”
“At five-thirty in the morning?”
Morgan took in a breath. “I had to talk to Shawne.”
Casey poured the reverend a cup of coffee. She added a dollop of cream and handed the reverend the steaming brew. Listening to Morgan sputter through why he was there nearly made her smile.
The reverend took a sip. “Are you trying to court my Shawne?”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “As a matter of fact . . .” He glanced at her. “I am.”
Hearing Morgan repeat his request made her shiver. Had they both turned into a pair of fools? Jenkins would kill them both, just like he had planned to do months ago.
The reverend cleared his throat, but she saw the merriment in his face. “Do you want this man to come courting, Shawne?”
She hadn’t formed an answer yet. All the confusion since she’d visited with Morgan the day before crowded around her. He’d help her in return for her spending time in his company. Like a real lady as if she weren’t an outlaw who knew more about living in the wilds than about keeping a home, more about horses and guns than about baking pies and cakes. As if a man might enjoy her company, might even think of her as pretty.
“I want to think about it.”
*****
The following Sunday morning, Casey fretted over her appearance and what to say. She even rehearsed conversations in front of the mirror. Jocelyn, Bonnie, Grant, and Morgan arrived at the parsonage shortly after the worship service. She glanced at Morgan, and he tossed her a smile. Good. She hadn’t spoken with him since Tuesday morning. She wanted him to come courting, but that invited feelings she didn’t know how to handle. My, but he looked handsome in a clean shirt and trousers. Even his boots shined like glass.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving?” she said to the reverend for the third time.
“Nonsense.” He peeked under a towel-covered dish from a church member. “I stated in our original agreement that you were to have every Sunday afternoon and evening free.” He pointed a finger at her. “Now off with you, and don’t you dare return before dusk or after evenin’ church.”
Before she could deliberate further upon the matter, the Andrewses whisked her off to the buckboard. Morgan had ridden his horse, and Bonnie rode in the back of the wagon. Stampede trotted along behind the wagon, although Casey was the only who could handle the stallion.
She stole a peek at Grant, who urged a pair of dapper mares down the road. He didn’t look twenty years old yet, and with slightly deeper coloring than his mother and sister, he had the makings of a fine man. He resembled Morgan, except taller, and his almond-shaped eyes were green, not turquoise. Yet Casey noted his youth—his eagerness to embrace manhood, something Tim had once possessed and lost.
Rolling countryside with a choir of singing locusts and grasshoppers slowly led them to the ranch. Casey loved this country, rich and green in the heart of summer. Tall pine trees sometimes darkened the dirt road and then faded in bright sunlight. At first the deep groves of trees troubled her, for they brought back reminders of rough men, lying in wait for an unsuspecting traveler. But her companions remained at ease, and she forced herself to relax.
Out of habit, she touched her dress pocket where her derringer used to hide. Her strength needed to be in God, not in a weapon. Guns had a place and a purpose, but not pressed against her body like a lady’s corset.
The wagon stopped on a knoll where the landscape gave way to a breathtaking view of a valley below. Like a dream. Casey noted a large stone-and-frame farmhouse, a barn, several sheds, and a bunkhouse, all neatly kept. Beyond the buildings, a creek glistened in the sunlight like a satin ribbon winding through the valley.