Walking the length and width of the grid, they circled around fences and monuments. They roused a couple of sleeping hoboes, but both were two sheets to the wind and offered no help.

  Brandon continued calling, his voice like a siren in the dead of night. They had just about given up when Josie’s ears perked up. “Wait,” she whispered. “I think I heard something.” She pointed to the far wall. “It came from over there.”

  They stood motionless for a moment, and the silence was almost deafening. “Maybe it was just an animal,” he said. “A stray cat.”

  “Call again,” she said softly.

  “Haley! Haley! Is that you?”

  More silence. They were just about to continue on their way when a small, wavering voice made them both freeze. “Papa?”

  Josie heard the air rush out of Brandon’s lungs with a whoosh. He shot from her side and ran in the direction of the thin voice. Holding the lantern in front of her, Josie followed him to the far wall. Haley was huddled beneath a large tree, her face as pale as the moon. She looked like she’d been sleeping.

  Brandon lifted his daughter into his arms and held her close. “Thank God you’re all right,” he said, his voice breaking.

  Holding back tears, Josie dropped to her knees with a prayer of thanksgiving.

  ***

  Brandon checked them into a hotel, and Haley fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. He stood by the bed gazing at her, his heart filled with gratitude. Had anything happened to her . . . He closed his eyes and blocked out the thought. It was just too painful to bear.

  Haley was safe. That’s all that mattered.

  A sound made him turn. Josie stood at the doorway. “If you don’t need me, I’ll go to my room.”

  He blew out his breath. The problem was he needed her more than words could say. The uncertainty of not knowing Haley’s whereabouts would have been unbearable had it not been for Josie.

  “Wait,” he said and pulled out his watch. It was only a little after eight p.m. “I have an errand to run. I won’t be long.”

  She rested a questioning gaze on him. “You want me to stay with Haley?”

  He hated asking it of her. She looked exhausted. But what he had to do was as much for her as it was for him. “If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said.

  “I won’t be long,” he repeated and dashed out the door, not sure what he was running to or escaping from. Less than twenty minutes later he arrived at Colleen’s graveside out of breath.

  He had so much to say to her, his wife, but his mind suddenly went blank. How did you tell the woman who had been so much a part of your life—who had taught you to love and be loved and was the mother of your child—that another woman was now tugging at your heart? What did you say after you’d said good-bye?

  He sank to his knees. Around him, the cemetery was as dark and silent as an empty tomb. As dark and silent as the love he’d thought would never die.

  The day he’d married Colleen was the day the words “For as long as we both shall live” had become a promise and a vow. He’d seen firsthand what his father’s many mistresses had done to his mother. His earliest memory was of lying in bed and hearing her cry on the nights his father didn’t come home.

  Brandon let out his breath. Even now the memory pained him. Though death had released him legally from his own vow of fidelity, it hadn’t relieved him of the guilt he felt for having feelings for another woman.

  He laid a hand on his wife’s headstone. “Forgive me.”

  Oddly enough, he felt his wife’s forgiveness. Felt it in the sudden stir of the trees. In the slight whisper of air touching his heated brow. Now if he could only find a way to forgive himself.

  ***

  The following morning Josie sat at a corner table in the hotel dining room looking at her watch. The restaurant was brimming with activity, and the buzz of the other diners mingled with the clatter of dishes and silverware

  Brandon had told her he’d meet her there at eight. It was now past eight-thirty. If he and Haley didn’t arrive soon, they would miss the morning train back to Two-Time.

  Maybe they’d overslept. She considered going upstairs and knocking on the door to Brandon’s room, but decided to wait another five minutes.

  Finding Haley had been a miracle. She had been scared to death and absolutely exhausted. Unable to find her mother’s grave, she had huddled next to the wall to wait for morning.

  Josie’s heart went out to the her. Poor child. Maybe Brandon had decided to let her sleep and take a later train. He was so good with his daughter; so kind and gentle. Even after she’d put him through hell. Haley was lucky to have him as a father.

  Josie finished her coffee and was just about to pay for it when she spotted Brandon and Haley coming down the stairs. Haley looked like she’d been crying and Brandon appeared

  grim-faced.

  Walking side by side, Haley and her father entered the dining room. Since neither showed any indication of seeing her, Josie waved. Haley stopped and her father said something to her. Neither looked happy.

  They walked through the hotel dining room toward her table like two wooden soldiers, reluctance written all over Haley’s face.

  “Good morning,” Josie said, cheerfully. Neither father or daughter returned the hoped for smiles.

  “’Morning,” Brandon muttered. Dark stubble shadowed his lower face, emphasizing his strong-cut jaw. His eyes looked dark and bleak. He pulled a chair away from the table.

  Josie took a deep breath. Something was definitely wrong.

  Haley gazed at the floor as if she wanted it to open and swallow her. Only at her father’s urging did she sit on the chair he held for her. He followed suit.

  Josie looked from one to the other. She was more convinced than ever that something awful had happened. A dozen possibilities flitted through her head. Had someone hurt Haley while she’d wandered the streets alone? The thought sent chills racing through her.

  A waiter started toward their table, but Brandon waved him away.

  Josie’s gaze shot back and forth between father and daughter. “Is everything all right?” Fearing the answer, she twisted the linen napkin on her lap.

  Brandon’s mouth was tight and eyes remote, his expression a mask of stone. “Haley has something to tell you.”

  Josie felt something like a rock settle in her stomach as she turned to Haley. The girl’s face was drained of color, and her lower lip quivered as if she was trying not to give in to more tears. Josie ached to take the child in her arms and tell her everything would be all right.

  “Maybe it should wait,” she said. A public restaurant was hardly the place to divulge bad news.

  “This has waited long enough,” Brandon said, his dark eyes on his daughter. “Tell her.”

  Josie stared across the table aghast. What was wrong with him? This was so unlike him. Could he not see how upset Haley was? How absolutely devastated?

  As if to guess Josie’s thoughts, Brandon softened his voice, but his grim expression remained the same. “Tell her.”

  “I-I . . .” Haley let out a sob.”

  Josie pulled a handkerchief from her purse and brushed it lightly against Haley’s damp cheek. “It’s okay, dear heart. Take your time.” She shot a reproachful gaze at Brandon, but the eyes looking back remained unfathomable. Swallowing hard, she turned back to Haley. “What do you want to tell me?”

  “I . . . I . . .” Haley’s body shuddered, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She then pulled away from Josie and clutched her hands to her chest. “I-I . . .” She sobbed. “Burned down your office.”

  Chapter 23

  Fire poses a constant threat for the Two-Time Hotel. Due to smoke damage, guest rooms have to be repainted and refurnished with such regularity, the hotel owner claims to have little use for maid service.—Two-Time Gazette

  For several moments, it seemed as if time had stood still. No one spoke. Even the muted voices of the other diners and the clanking sound of china and silverware had faded away. Nothing penetrated the thick tension that held the three of them in its grip.

  Haley covered her face with her hands as her body shook with soundless sobs.

  When at last the shock of Haley’s confession wore off, Josie’s mouth dropped open and she fell back in her chair.

  “You? You did that?” she said, struggling to find her voice. She shot a puzzled glance at Brandon’s stoic face. “But . . . but why?”

  “Tell her how it happened,” Brandon said, his low voice failing to mute the sharp edge.

  Haley lifted her head, rivers of tears spilling down her pale cheeks. “You were so sad because of your h-husband,” she stammered. “I-I . . . I just wanted to make you happy.”

  Josie pressed her hand to her forehead. This couldn’t be happening. She drew in her breath and dropped her hand to her lap. “You wanted to make me happy?” None of this made any sense. “By . . . by burning down my office?”

  “It w-was . . .” Haley looked like she was having trouble breathing. “It was an accident, honest. I-I drew a picture of your husband. A large picture that you could hang on the wall. I wanted to surprise you by leaving it on your desk so you’d find it in the morning.” Haley’s voice trembled as she struggled to get the words out. “When I opened the window, t-the . . . the cat jumped up and scared me. I dropped my lantern and . . .” A look of horror crossed her pale face, as if she was reliving the scene even as she spoke. “I-I . . . didn’t know what to do. The fire . . .”

  Josie stared at her, but her disbelief soon gave way to sympathy. The poor child must have been terrified. “Oh, dear heart.” Rising from her chair, she dropped to her knees by Haley’s side. “Don’t cry,” she whispered. “Don’t cry.” Wrapping her arms around Haley’s trembling body, Josie pulled her close

  “I was so scared.” Haley murmured, her head pressed against Josie’s chest. “I knew you would hate me.”

  Josie stroked the child’s head. “Oh, no. I could never hate you. I’m just so glad you weren’t hurt.” She glanced over Haley’s head at Brandon. “Don’t be angry with her,” she mouthed, shaking her head lightly.

  Brandon’s gaze met hers. His expression was still tight, but some emotion flickered in the depth of his eyes. After a moment he left his chair and dropped down on one knee next to Josie’s side.

  Haley lifted her head. “Papa?”

  Without a word he wrapped Haley in his arms, holding her close. But his tender expression was for Josie, as were his whispered words. “Thank you.”

  ***

  No one felt much like talking on the train ride back to Two-Time. Haley was pale with exhaustion and slept all the way, her head against her father’s shoulder. Even in sleep her lower lip trembled as if she was reliving the horror of the fire in her dreams.

  “I’ll pay for the damages,” Brandon said after a while, his voice low.

  Jolted out of her thoughts, Josie shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. It was an accident.”

  His jaw tensed. “Accident or not, Haley has to learn that actions lead to consequences.”

  Josie lowered her gaze to the sleeping child. Haley looked so small and vulnerable next to her father’s broad chest. Poor thing. What a terrible burden of guilt she must have carried on her young shoulders. No wonder she ran away. With the thought came an overwhelming, almost maternal, need to protect her.

  “My new office building is almost complete. People have been most generous and—”

  “I’ll pay back everyone who contributed.” His voice forbade further argument.

  She gazed out the window, and the scenery flew by in a blur just like the thoughts racing through her head. “If word gets out that Haley started the fire—”

  “If word gets out?” He arched a brow. “Are you saying you’re not running this in the Gazette?”

  The question surprised her, and she drew in her breath. For the first time since taking over the newspaper, she’d failed to think as a journalist. Previously, any thought of holding back the news would have been out of the question.

  She moistened her lips as she considered her answer. “Something like this could follow her the rest of her life.”

  He pierced her with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Would you feel the same if it were someone else? Another child?”

  She thought about her nieces and nephews. About other children she knew. The little Matthews boy. The Spencer twins.

  “Yes,” she said. It wasn’t an answer she was especially proud of. She owed her readers a clear, honest, and unbiased rendition of the news.

  “Suppressing a story is serious business,” he said, his voice showing neither approval or disapproval.

  “I know. But I prefer to call it protecting a child.” Newspapers routinely printed the name of children accused of crimes or mischief. Until now she hadn’t given the matter much consideration, mainly because child criminals were a rarity in Two-Time. But now that she thought about it, the practice of treating young offenders in newspapers the same as adults struck her as all wrong.

  She leaned forward, beseeching Brandon with an outstretched hand. “We can say the mystery of the fire has been solved and it was an accident. End of story.” If that qualified as suppressing the news, she was guilty as charged.

  He glanced down at his sleeping daughter. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Josie.” He lifted his troubled gaze. “But she caused you a great deal of trouble. I can’t let her off the hook that easy.”

  “I’m not saying you should. I’m just saying there has to be another way for her to make amends. Just not in public.”

  His thoughts crossed his forehead in fleeting shadows, and they rode the rest of the way home to Two-Time in silence.

  ***

  Following the trip to San Antonio, Josie and Haley started spending a lot of time together. Haley stopped by the newspaper shop every day. The two of them often walked the short distance to the hotel for ice cream or to the general store for penny candy.

  Sometimes they’d go shopping together. Haley enjoyed trying on all the “grown-up” hats at Amanda’s hat emporium. She even liked pretending she was a newspaper reporter and walked around with a notebook.

  On other occasions, Haley would help Hank set type or run errands for Josie. It was as if, in her own small way, she tried making up for the fire.

  In return, Josie felt a fierce need to protect the child and had made Hank swear not to tell anyone how the fire had started.

  “You two sure are spending a lot of time together,” he said one afternoon after Haley had left.

  “She’s a delightful child,” Josie said. Come to think of it, Haley’s father wasn’t that bad either. “If ever I had a daughter, I would want her to be exactly like Haley.”

  “Hmm.”

  Josie looked up from her desk. “What?”

  “I just don’t want to see you getting hurt,” he said.

  “How could I possible get hurt?” she asked. “We’re just friends.”

  “And are you still gonna keep up the editorial wars feeling the way you do about Wade’s daughter?”

  Josie chewed on her lower lip. Hank had raised a good question and one she wasn’t ready to tackle. When she didn’t respond, he turned to his desk.

  “I guess I got my answer.”

  She studied the back of his head. Not wanting to argue with him, she changed the subject. “Speaking of spending time together. What’s going on with you and Miss Read?” There had to be a reason why Hank had been spending so much time at the barbershop lately. The whole tent reeked of bay rum hair tonic.

  For answer, Hank started humming Mendelssohn's Wedding March. His gravelly rendition brought a smile to Josie’s face.

  ***

  Two weeks later, Brandon sat in front of his type-writing machine late at night staring at a blank piece of paper. His efforts so far to produce that week’s editorial were scattered on the desk and floor in a barrage of white paper balls.

  That week’s topic was the mayor’s idea to turn Main Street into a plank road. Troutman had insisted that a better road through town would solve the traffic problem, as it would allow for a smoother flow and prevent wheels from being caught in ruts.

  In last week’s editorial, Josie had agreed with the mayor’s solution, though she did raise the issue of costs and upkeep. Brandon found no argument with those concerns, but that would never do. Their readers expected the Lone Star Press to take the opposite view to the Gazette. He’d never had trouble seeing both sides of an issue and taking whichever side was called for. But that was then and this was now.

  Never would he forget Josie’s kindness to Haley. She’d handled the fire so expertly in her newspaper that no one questioned her contention that Mr. Whiskers was the culprit behind the fire. As far as everyone was concerned, arson was not involved.

  Since the trip to San Antonio, any effort to rebut Josie’s editorials or in any way discredit her paper had ended in failure. He no longer viewed Josie as a rival, but rather a joint force working toward a single goal: to inform, entertain, and educate the public.

  But it wasn’t just what Josie had done for Haley that had him wound tighter than a banjo string. It was the way she’d seemed to take over his every thought. He couldn’t even close his eyes without thinking of her and how she’d felt in his arms. If only he hadn’t kissed her. If only he hadn’t felt the graceful curves of her body molding against his own. If only he hadn’t stroked the softness of her skin or tasted her honey-sweet breath.

  Grimacing, he rubbed his hands over his face. Blast it all! No wonder his writing now sounded like Sunday-school fodder.

  Haley was spending the night with a friend, and he’d hoped to complete Friday’s paper while she was gone and he had this extra time. It did his heart good to see his daughter happy again and acting more like herself. The outcome could have been so much worse if not for Josie’s forgiving heart.

  He groaned. Josie again. Every waking thought led to Josie.