Gold Rush Baby by Dorothy Clark

Author:Dorothy Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Viola hurried up the stone steps to the wide stoop and reached for the doorknob, paused at the sound of hammering from within. Her lungs emptied in a long sigh. Frankie and her sisters were hard at work. She would not be alone in the church. Thank You, Lord. She glanced around, saw no one following her, arranged her features in a mask that hid her fear and opened the door.

“Watch you don’t trip over that pile of lumber on the floor.” The end of the board Frankie Tucker was sawing fell off with a thud. She leaned the saw against the sawhorse leg and looked up. A smile warmed her face. “Hey, Viola. Come to pretty up the windows?”

“I’m going to make a start at it. As soon as I can see.” She blinked her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light after the sunshine of outdoors. “I’m here to measure the windows.” She glanced at Lucy and Margie, busy pounding nails into a board that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. “Will I be in your way?”

Frankie grinned, shook her head. “Nah, if we get close before you’re done, we’ll either work around you or board you up into the wall.” Her sisters laughed. Frankie lifted the board off the sawhorse, swung it around and leaned it against the wall next to where they were working. “Here’s your next board.”

Viola stared at the three sisters, trying hard not to envy them. They laughed and teased each other—and everyone else—with such raucous abandon. They were so carefree while she… The knots that had become a permanent part of her stomach twisted tighter. She stepped around the pile of lumber and headed for the nearest window, took her measurements, then looked around. “I have to measure the bench and the collections table, too. Where are they?”

“We carried them into the sanctuary, out of our way.” Frankie lifted a board from the pile to the sawhorses, measured and marked it. “They’re bigger than the windows. You need my measure?”

“No, my sewing tape will work fine.” She took a breath, forced a casual tone into her voice. “Have you heard anything about my pistol, Frankie?”

“Danny Whitehorse ordered it from Seattle.” The saw bit into the wood, slid down, chattered back and slid forward again. “Says it should be here in a few days.” Frankie halted her work and looked up, her eyes agleam with interest. “Is someone giving you trouble, Viola?”

“No.” She shook her head, smiled. “I was simply wondering when my shooting lessons would start.”

“Quick as the pistol comes in to Tanner’s, I’ll bring it over and we’ll get started.”

She nodded, looked away. Frankie’s law enforcement yearnings were showing in the suspicious look she was giving her. “I’d best get back to work, I want to be home before Goldie wakes from her nap.” She stepped into the sanctuary, measured the bench and turned to the table.

“Hey, Mack… Preacher. Come to look over our work?”

Frankie’s words stilled her hands. Preacher?

“I’ve come to admire it, that steeple tower is a work of art.

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