Dutch chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, we did.” He glanced at Luke, who sat at the other end of the table with his wife, Ginny. “I was asked to play all sorts of roles to get the job done. Though I don’t miss those days. Being a deputy in a fine town like Splendor suits me better now.”
He launched into a tale about working with Luke Pelletier. “At the time, Luke was also an agent.” Dutch continued, with Luke chiming in now and then to add his own anecdotes. Eliza listened with rapt attention, her doctor’s curiosity in full force.
Eventually, the conversation turned to Reverend Paige’s wife, Ruth, who was deeply involved in planning Splendor’s Christmas festivities. Rachel explained how Ruth spearheaded the holiday decorations, nativity pageant, and charitable drives each year.
“Why, she’s got half the town getting ready for the season,” Rachel said. “You must meet her soon, Eliza. I know she’d appreciate an extra pair of hands.”
Eliza’s eyes shone. “To be honest, I’ve never helped with any Christmas preparations. I’m willing to do what I can, though. Please let me know how I can help.”
“Well, there is one event coming up you could assist with,” Rachel said. “We’re doing a donation drive for the local orphanage. All sorts of things are needed—clothes, books, toys for the children.”
Eliza nodded. “Just tell me what’s needed, and I’ll gladly help.”
“We appreciate every bit of help, I assure you. Reverend Paige usually helps gather and sort the donations with some of the other townsfolk. But Ruth has him working on something else this year. Spencer has already volunteered to take his place, so the two of you could work together.”
At this, Eliza’s gaze darted briefly to Spencer. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before both looked away.
Later, as Eliza helped Rachel and the other women clean up from supper, the conversation turned back to the donation drive.
“It’s important each child gets something suitable,” Rachel said as she handed Eliza a plate to dry. “We organize the gifts by age and whether they’re for boys or girls. It makes the distribution go smoother.”
Eliza nodded, carefully wiping the plate before setting it in the cupboard. “I imagine it takes quite a bit of work to sort through it all.”
“It does, but it’s worth it to see the smiles on those youngsters’ faces.” Rachel’s expression turned thoughtful. “The church ladies will wrap the gifts once you and Spencer have everything organized. I’m sure they’d welcome another pair of hands if you’d like to help.”
“I’ll help however I can,” Eliza replied. This donation drive was important to the community, and she was honored to participate.
As she bid Rachel goodnight and walked to her room, she felt warmth flow through her. This little frontier town was becoming much more than a short stop due to a sudden winter storm.
Chapter Seven
Lucien Hunt leaned against the worn oak bar in the Dixie Saloon, nursing his second whiskey of the evening. The amber liquid swirled in the glass as he observed the rowdy card games, debating whether to try his luck or keep to himself. The raucous laughter and shouts of the gamblers grated on his nerves tonight.
The saloon doors swung open, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man in a duster and Stetson. Ford Mason scanned the room with sharp eyes before settling on Lucien at the bar. A grin split his rugged face as he approached.
“Well, I’ll be. Lucien Hunt in the flesh,” Ford said, clasping a hand on Lucien’s shoulder. “Stan Petermann mentioned you were back in town. Good to see you.”
Lucien’s mouth quirked up slightly. “Ford. Been a while.”
They shook hands, the easy camaraderie of two men comfortable in their own skins. Ford ordered a whiskey and stood beside Lucien, surveying the noisy saloon.
“Place seems busy for a Wednesday night,” Ford commented.
Lucien grunted in reply, swirling his drink. Ford sipped his whiskey, his keen gaze missing nothing.
“You back for good this time?” he asked.
Lucien was silent, contemplating the question plaguing him for months. Ford waited, knowing better than to push.
After a time, Lucien spoke. “Can’t say. The trail calls, but I’m starting to go deaf.”
Ford nodded, understanding in his eyes. “A man can only run so long before he’s got to turn and face himself.”
Lucien met his gaze, seeing his own bone-deep weariness reflected back. Both men had demons driving them, pasts refusing to let go. But change was coming for them, whether they willed it or not.
Ford lifted his glass in a silent toast. As they drank, Lucien thought of another issue bothering him.
He set his glass on the scarred wooden bar with a decisive thump. “I told Gabe Evans about the Tom Wolf gang showing up not too far from here.”
