Shadow in Serenity

eleven


High Five was the town’s country-music band that played at all the local gatherings. It consisted of the postmaster, one of the grocers, a traffic engineer from Odessa, and the twins who ran the railroad depot.

The makeshift dance floor in the bingo hall was full. As Logan stepped into the room, smiling in answer to all the greetings he was immediately barraged with, he thought again that this surely was Mayberry. The dream town, where little boys named Opie grew up to be wholesome and good. Or little boys named Jason.

He caught Jason’s wave across the crowd and saw that he was dancing with a pretty little girl in a frilly dress. He winked and flashed him a thumbs-up, and Jason blushed. Logan laughed and tried to remember being that age. Where had he been at age seven? With the Clements or the Legates? That was the year he’d been passed around to three different families. The sobering thought killed his smile, and he glanced away. His gaze immediately collided with Carny’s. He might have known she’d be on the dance floor too. And he wasn’t the only one watching her. A number of men on the edge of the crowd seemed to wait their turns.

Man, she was cute. That was the thing about her. A lot of women were pretty — in fact, a lot of the women right here in Serenity were pretty. But it was Carny’s cuteness, her bounciness and playfulness, juxtaposed with her serious side, that made her impossible to purge from his mind. And he’d tried. He’d tried hard.

He watched as she strayed from her partner and found her son dancing with his friend. Tapping his partner on the shoulder, she got Jason to turn her way, and he took her hand. The two of them began to dance, and Logan couldn’t escape the look of pleasure in her eyes or the look of delight in the boy’s.

Someone tapped on Jason’s back — Logan recognized him as Joey from the barbershop yesterday — and Jason deferred to him. Without batting an eye, Carny fell into step with him. She wasn’t a tease, Logan thought. Lots of men would shower attention on her tonight, and while she didn’t need that attention, she wouldn’t make them feel small, either. He enjoyed watching her.

Something tugged at his leg, stealing his attention, and Logan looked down to see Jack looking up at him. “Hey, boy,” Logan said, stooping to pet him. “What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?”

The dog closed his eyes and rolled his head into Logan’s hand, clearly wanting a scratch. “Where’s your old man, boy? Where’s Slade?” Jack’s ears perked up, and he looked toward where Slade stood with a group of men. “Not far, huh? I didn’t think so.”

The dog went back to his master’s side, and Slade bent and rubbed the dog’s head while he talked.

Logan thought of joining them, but he wasn’t ready to take his attention from the dance floor. Carny seemed to have boundless energy. The other women dancing around her paled in comparison. Ironic that the only woman he was interested in in Serenity was the one who saw right through him.

Strolling along the outskirts of the crowd, he ran into Jean Miller, a pretty little redhead he’d heard was training to be a missionary. There was no doubt in his mind that, if he wanted to, he could make her forget her calling. But he wasn’t that kind of man. He had always been diligent at keeping Montague’s rule not to pursue innocent women.

He flirted with Jean just for show, but his eyes kept straying to Carny. She was pouring punch for herself and Jason. Jason was chattering about something, and Carny laughed as she listened.

“You’ve made quite an impression in this town,” Jean said, dragging Logan’s attention away. “I hope you plan to stay, even after the park is built.”

“Thinking about it,” he said with his most flirtatious grin. “I’m getting attached to Serenity.” Though the statement rolled off his tongue with the fluidity of the rest of his spiel, he had to admit it was true. There had never been a town he’d be sorrier to say goodbye to.

“Don’t let folks like Carny run you off,” Jean said. “Carny marches to her own drummer. Everybody loves her, but we don’t put a lot of stock in anything she says or does.”

“She’s the flighty type, huh?” he asked.

Catching his lame attempt at a pun, Jean burst into giggles.

Logan left Jean and ambled toward the punch table. The bowl held straight lemonade. Nothing alcoholic. This town …

His eyes gravitated back to Carny as he sipped.

Montague would have told him to pack his bags this very moment and leave town. There was nothing more likely to cloud a man’s judgment than getting tangled up with the wrong woman. Bad judgment meant making mistakes, and mistakes led to jail, as Logan well knew.

Besides, he’d already scored enough cash to close the whole thing down.

But he couldn’t go. Not yet.

He watched as Jason went to play a video game against the wall with some of his friends, and Carny stepped outside the bingo hall alone. Logan followed her. The moon was full, lighting the main street through town in silvery hues, and the lights from the windows and doorway spilled out, breaking up the darkness. He watched her walk up the sidewalk, fanning herself with her hand, then stop to get a drink out of the machine in front of the barbershop.

Logan stayed close to the buildings, not wanting to be seen just yet, and watched her lean against the wall, take a long sip of the Coke, then stare off into space.

He pushed away from the wall and strolled up the sidewalk. She saw him coming and flashed him a knowing grin.

“Well, well. You never know what might be lurking in the dark,” she said.

He wanted to be sincere with her, but he wasn’t sure how — he’d been faking it for so long. “I’ve been watching you,” he said.

She smiled. “Oh, yeah? You must be pretty bored.”

“Not at all.” He braced his hand on the wall, just above her head, and leaned down over her. “There’s nothing boring about you, Carny.”

She laughed. “You can say that again. I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but never of being boring. You either, I’d imagine.”

He shrugged. “I know you don’t like to admit it, but we have a lot in common.”

Her smile faded, and she looked up at him, her eyes soft and vulnerable, but still so savvy that he felt uneasy. “And what do you think we have in common?”

He breathed a laugh, but quickly his smile faded. “Loneliness.”

The laughter that burst from her took him by surprise.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“That’s pretty good, Brisco,” she said. “But you can do better than that.”

He bristled. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.” She walked a few steps away, still grinning, and when she turned back to him, he saw that she was genuinely amused. “Touch on the struggles I’ve had as a single parent. Tell me you have an empty house in the Midwest with five bedrooms you dream of filling up. Or my disillusionment. Tell me you’ve had your share of the same, but that a woman like me could restore your faith …”

“What are you talking about?”

“Cons, Brisco,” she said, stepping closer and grinning up at him. “Let’s face it. The usual ones won’t work on me. You’ll have to be more creative.”

“Lady, you’re as hard as nails. It wasn’t a con. It was a statement of fact. You’re a lonely woman. It’s written all over you.”

Again, she laughed. “You think you can read me? Man, you’re arrogant. You don’t know the first thing about me. If you did, you’d know I don’t need a man to be content.”

“But a woman like you needs one to be happy. And you deserve to be happy, Carny.”

“And you think happiness is falling for the likes of you?”

“No, I think happiness is falling for the likes of you.”

Again, she laughed, but this time it was a little more strained. She turned away, took a drink of her Coke, and kicked at a rock. “Let me tell you something, Brisco. There are at least a dozen eligible men in town who are attractive, productive, and decent. Why on earth would I choose you?”

“Because I’m different,” he said. “Just like you. And for what it’s worth, if I had a woman like you, I’d have stayed home every night. I wouldn’t have gone out drinking and gotten killed in a drunken brawl.”

He realized the moment he said it that he shouldn’t have. Her cheeks reddened as if she’d been slapped. She pointed up at him. “Don’t you say another word to me about my husband.”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Slamming my husband, who isn’t here to defend himself? You didn’t think that would offend me?”

“I was told you weren’t happy in your marriage.”

“My marriage is none of your business.” She turned and looked out over the parking lot. “So you’ll have to try a different angle.”

“I’m really sorry. Bad call.”

She crossed her arms and headed back toward the bingo hall.

Logan watched as she went back in, and for a moment he listened to the sounds of the town, the sounds of friendship and family, the sounds of laughter and lightness, the sounds of somebody’s home. Her home. But not his.

He’d never been lonelier in his life.

And the worst thing he could fault her with was that she was right. This would be even harder than he’d thought. The only way he’d ever convince her that he was legitimate was if he became legitimate. And maybe not even then.

What a thought. Going straight — for a woman. He could imagine Montague’s incredulity, could hear that distant voice urging him to get out of here, telling him that he’d stayed too long already, that no man could carry out a scam for more than a couple of weeks. It was dangerous. It was ludicrous. It was suicide. With every day that he stayed, his position — and his freedom — would be jeopardized more.

But Logan had no desire to leave. There were challenges here he had yet to meet, and few of them had anything to do with money.