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father taught me that song," she said when they had calmed.

"Yep, he taught it to me too."

"He did?"

Will nodded. "He did. When he was teaching me to play the guitar."

"Are you serious? I never knew my father taught you to play the guitar."

"Honestly, Phoebe, how is it that you know so little about me?"

She bit her bottom lip, reminding Will of his plans before Stephen had interrupted.

"Did my mother teach you piano as well?" she asked.

"No," he chuckled. "My mother did." He moved closer to the center of the bench, edging Phoebe over slightly, and began to play.

"I am dreaming Dear of you, day by day. Dreaming when the skies are blue, when they're gray; When the silv'ry moonlight gleams, Still I wander on in dreams, in a land of love, it seems, just with you."

Will turned to her and sang the chorus.

"Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you. Let me hear you whisper that you love me too."

Their eyes locked and he let the chorus fade off, unable to continue. She was so close, so real, and he wanted her to know in no uncertain terms just how attracted to her he really was.

Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart.

The Psalm he had memorized as a child rang through his mind. He knew God's will for his life, but he also knew that Phoebe needed time. Time he must be willing to give her.

Will stood before he changed his mind. "Well, I'd best be getting back to the constabulary before the afternoon shift begins."

He absentmindedly stuck his hands in the pockets of his wool coat and felt paper.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. A letter came in the morning post for you. It's from Esther."

Phoebe pounced upon the envelope like a starved feral cat.

She stared at the writing on the envelope. "It says Ward, but it isn't Esther's handwriting."

Fear beat against Will's ribcage. Why was John writing to Phoebe?

Phoebe ripped open the envelope and read the contents quickly. She let out a squeal.

"The baby has arrived! It's a boy, Will. The baby is a boy!"

The worry melted away from Will's chest and was replaced by a mixture of relief and pure joy. He laughed and whooped loudly, lifting Phoebe into his arms as he swung her around.

"There's more." She pushed away from him, seemingly unfazed by his display. She handed him the letter.

He is so beautiful, Phoebe, and very healthy. I think he looks just like his mother, but Esther insists he looks like me. We have given him the name William James – James, of course, after your father, and William after my best friend and the man who saved my life. Without Will, I wouldn't be here to rejoice over the birth of my son.

"You saved John's life?"

It was asked so quietly, almost reverently, that Will had to look at her to be certain he hadn't imagined it.

Two little lines furrowed between her eyes. "Why didn't I know that?"

Will took a deep breath and shrugged. "It was war. I don't talk about it much."

"But saving a man's life… that's something to be proud of."

"Like you saved Wendell's?"

"How do you know…"

"He told me. He pretty much told the whole town."

She shook her head. "That isn't at all the same thing. What happened with Wendell was God. I was just the vessel He used to accomplish His mission."

"Then it is exactly the same." He reached out and picked up the worn Bible she had left on the pew next to the piano. "This is the same book that guides both of our actions, Pheebs. God has called you to save souls, and he has called me to save people in another way. It's just who we are."

26
Yet

"Here's that list of townsfolk you requested."

"Thank you, Roberts." Will read over the names. "Not a very long list."

"Longer than I expected it to be in a town this size."

"And you confirmed that each of these people do in fact own a car? Not just hearsay?"

"Yes, sir. I saw for myself each one."

Will nodded. "Any of them with a bald tire?"

"Lots of them. But none with just one."

Will was disappointed. Another dead end. "Good work. Don't want to go chasing down any trail that isn't necessary."

It had been several weeks since the murder of the Richardson boy, and the case was running cold. The only evidence they had was the tire tracks at the scene, and even that wasn't much of a lead.

His eyes stopped at a name on the list. "Mrs. Smith? At the boarding house? That's interesting. Lots of men who would have access to it."

"That's what I thought as well, but she says it's not been out of the barn in two years, and her story checks out. The driver's seat is covered in dust. No one's driven it in a long time."

Will rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He didn't like the feeling of having a murderer so near. He had too much at stake.

"Where are Little and Moore?"

"Still over at Lambeckers lookin' for clues, though I think it's a waste of time. If there was a connection, we'd have found it by now."

"I don't know. My gut tells me otherwise." Will stood and grabbed his hat off the desk. "There's something we're missing, something or someone that we haven't thought of. I'm going for a walk."

He headed toward the Simmons' store with the goal of purchasing a cold Vernor's to clear his mind. And, if he were to be honest, with the hope of catching a glimpse of a beautiful brunette that may be out calling on members of her congregation.

The one thing he hadn't counted on when taking a post with Phoebe near was the distraction she would cause. Sure, he'd expected the usual distraction her beauty afforded, but Will had spent his entire life being distracted by her nearness. What he hadn't expected was fear. He'd known there'd be dangers in the U.P. and he knew that he had an intense need to protect Phoebe from them, but he had never imagined those dangers would include a murderer on the loose. He couldn't think about the case without thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, and if she were safe. Will had lived through war and the loss of both of his parents. Still, when he thought of what it would mean to lose Phoebe, he realized he had never really experienced fear. Not like this.

He passed Mrs. Smith's boarding house. It would be empty this time of day, but not for long. It was nearly supper time and those boys didn't miss a meal, especially on Tuesday evenings when the pretty pastor joined them for Bible study. Maybe Will should join them tonight, just to check things out. Never hurt for an officer of the law to let his presence be known. It also wouldn't hurt to make his intentions known to them either, he imagined. Not sure how he would do that without getting slugged by Phoebe, though. The thought made his lip twitch. Yep. He might just drop into that Bible study tonight.

As he approached the store, he saw Leta Miller and a group of men talking on the porch. She reached out and swatted one of them on the arm as she threw her blonde hair over her shoulder. Will suppressed a chuckle, remembering Phoebe's strong reaction to the girl. Honestly, he couldn't figure out how Phoebe would ever think he would be interested in a girl like that. But he sure did like the hope that her reaction had given him.

Leta Miller skipped down the steps and turned in the opposite direction of Will. Grateful that he wouldn't have to converse with her, he continued to cross the street. As he neared the store, he could hear the men's conversation.

"Yeah, that Leta is pretty, but she's not as pretty as that oldest Wilson girl. What's her name?"

"Elizabeth? You're crazy. She's got a crooked nose. She ain't pretty at all."

Will's hackles rose. It wasn't just the disrespectful words the men were using. It was the way they spoke. Will had been raised to respect women, all women, and he didn't take kindly to men that didn't.

"I agree with Fred. Leta is prettier, but she's as dumb as a bag of marbles."

Will had heard enough. He unclenched his fists and cleared his throat. But before he could

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