Cowboy Lawman's Christmas Reunion

by Louise M. Gouge

  “You’re coming with me.” Justice approached the table and took Gerard’s arm, lifting him from the chair.

  Evangeline stomach sickened. “Wait. What are you doing?”

  The anguish and anger in Justice’s eyes caused her heart to race. “Your son left his coat at the blacksmith shop, which he set on fire, as he tried to do to Colonel Northam’s barn two months ago. Remember that little incident? I’m taking him to jail. This town isn’t safe with him running loose.” He started for the door with Gerard in tow.

  “Wait,” she repeated. “Gerard couldn’t possibly have set the fire. He’s been with me the whole day.”

  Hurt emanated from Justice’s eyes. “I can’t believe you’d lie for him...to me.”

  “I’m not lying. He—”

  “Don’t.” Justice opened the door. “You can’t make excuses for him anymore, Evangeline. I saw him running around town with Deely and Cart. He was seen by several people in the very act of setting the fire.” He shut the door and faced her again. “It’s bad enough to have Burt’s business in ruins. He’s lost his income, and we’ve lost a service the entire community needs. But with the livery stable being next door, the danger was even worse because of the horses stabled there. If the hay stored in Ben’s loft caught on fire, Nate’s horse and buggy, my horse, Tolley’s horse and several more could have perished. As it was, the horses were terrified by the smoke and didn’t want to leave their stalls.” He opened the door again. “It’s time Gerard paid for his deeds. He’s a danger to the community.”

  “Justice, please.” Evangeline couldn’t keep the tears from her voice. “Can’t you at least let him speak?” She thought she was going mad. No one could have seen her son at the blacksmith shop because he’d been here with her. Yet he wasn’t even defending himself. “Gerard, what can you tell us?”

  More disappointed than upset, he looked at her with those soulful eyes. “Does this mean I can’t be in the Christmas play?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The fire at the blacksmith shop wasn’t the first one folks in Esperanza had fought. Before Justice came to town, they’d banded together to save the partially built hotel. Not long after he moved here, he’d joined them in a fruitless effort to save Susanna’s father’s home by the Rio Grande. After that, they bought the alarm bell and hung it on a street corner near the center of town where most people in the community could hear it. Then each month, the people practiced pumping water and passing buckets. Everyone knew what to do, and they worked together like a brigade of well-trained soldiers. It was time to purchase a steam pump fire wagon, like the ones Chicago authorities used to fight the devastating fire of ’71. After today’s tragedy, during which several people were injured because they got too close to the flames, Justice would gladly donate the equipment anonymously to the town.

  As he marched Gerard the half block to the jailhouse, Justice felt his future crumble around him. Sadly, his first opinion of the boy was right. He had his father’s evil bent. Evangeline’s lying defense of her son destroyed Justice’s last hope they could still work things out and find happiness as a family. How could she stand there and say to his face the boy was with her all day? He’d seen Gerard running with his friends with his own eyes. Yet he longed to think she didn’t lie, that she decided to go into the back room and paint, and Gerard slipped out while she was occupied. But that didn’t make sense. She wouldn’t so casually risk her son’s discovering the secret village.

  “What do we have here?” O’Shea met them in the office part of the jailhouse, his hair damp from washing up after the fire.

  Justice still needed to clean himself up. “He started the fire. Put him in a cell.”

  “Sir, I didn’t do it.” Tears poured down the boy’s solemn, sincere face.

  “That’s what they all say.” O’Shea repeated every lawman’s favorite response to criminals claiming innocence.

  As his deputy marched the boy to the cell, Justice explained to him what had happened from the moment when he saw the boys exit the mercantile to the discovery of the burned coat. Once in the cell with the door locked, Gerard slumped onto the cot looking like a whipped puppy. For a mere second, Justice’s heart stirred with pity and doubt. Until Evangeline marched into his office, her blue eyes blazing.

  “Uh-oh.” O’Shea slipped out the front door.

  “I want to see my son.”

  Justice closed the door between the office and the cells, cutting off Gerard’s plaintive cry to his mother. “He needs some time alone to think about what he’s done.” And to ponder the coming punishment. Justice leaned back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. Best to let her get out her anger at him before he reminded her of the evidence right behind him.

  She paced back and forth across the office, finally turning to him with her own arms crossed. “How can you be so legalistic you refuse to believe the truth?” She paced again. Stopped again. “You want to think the worst of Gerard because he’s Lucius’s son.” More pacing. This time when she stopped, her eyes shone with tears.

  He ground his teeth. A woman’s tears were a more formidable weapon than any six-shooter. He lifted his own weapon, the burned coat. “Don’t you understand? This was found at the fire.”

  She gasped and reached out to take it. He withheld it.

  “It’s evidence.”

  “I’m sure there’s an explanation.” She glared at him. “You see what you’ve done by arresting him? You’ve forced me to choose between you and my son. I cannot and will not abandon Gerard to your bad judgment. If you insist upon keeping him here, I’ll talk to Tolley. At least he’ll see reason.” She tapped her foot as if waiting.

  Somehow Justice managed to maintain his stance when he desperately longed to pull her into his arms and hold her until true reason took control of her. The fire in her eyes stopped him.

  “Very well.” She marched from the office and turned toward Tolley’s office next door.

  Justice put his hand on his chest to stop the deep ache. He hadn’t hurt this badly since Evangeline’s father claimed she didn’t want to see him all those years ago.

  He whispered a prayer. “Lord, I don’t know if I can bear this pain again. If I could stop caring for her, I would have long ago. All those years we were apart, something was dead inside me. I started coming back to life when she stepped off of that train. Lord, help me. I guess I never stopped loving her, and I still love her more than my own life. Please show me what to do. Please help Evangeline see her son for what he is. Then we can get some help for him.”

  A nagging thought wormed into his brain. What if she was right and he was wrong? What if Gerard didn’t start the fire? No. Couldn’t be. All he needed to do for confirmation was turn around and look at the half-burned red plaid coat on his desk.

  * * *

  Evangeline tried to stop crying, but it was no use. With sweet Effie Bean beside her, she sat in Tolley’s office sobbing out her story to the young lawyer.

  “He was with me all day except for fifteen minutes when he went to buy candy at Winsted’s.” She crumpled her wet handkerchief and gratefully accepted a fresh one from Effie.

  His eyes filled with kindness, Tolley gazed at her across the desk. “And you say the sheriff claims to have seen him running around town?”

  She nodded. How unbearable to have Justice lie about her son, for that was the only explanation for his claim.

  Tolley stared out the window for a few moments, then turned back to her. “Some things don’t make sense in this situation. I don’t believe either you or the sheriff is a liar. Gerard can’t be in two places at the same time. And we’ll have to find out why his coat was at the blacksmith shop. I’m going to ask you to trust me to work this out. Can you do that?”

  She stared down at her hands and released a shuddering sigh. She’d come to him for help, b
ut being Justice’s friend, would he truly look out for her son’s best interests? “I’ll try.”

  “I appreciate your honesty.” He took a sip of the coffee Effie served. “Do you want me to send for Susanna?”

  “No. Frankie has the sniffles again and shouldn’t be out in the cold.”

  “Tell you what.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “As hard as it will be, why don’t you go on over to the church and watch Isabelle in the play rehearsal?”

  “Oh, but—”

  “Mrs. Benoit—” Effie squeezed Evangeline’s hand “—sometimes we parents have to get out of the way so other people can help our children.”

  Evangeline stared at her, doubt and fear clouding her thoughts. Yet she had no choice but to accept the older woman’s advice. “All right. I’ll have to close the library first.” In her anguish, she’d run from the building without locking the door.

  “Good.” Tolley stood and came around the desk, his broad stature almost as imposing as Justice’s. He took her hands in his larger ones and gave her a warm smile. “We’ll get to the truth. And if the matter comes to trial, I’ll be happy to represent Gerard.”

  Even with his assurance, Evangeline had difficulty following his plan. When she walked past the sheriff’s office next door, she couldn’t keep from glancing through the window. The inner door to the cells was still closed, meaning her poor son was alone and probably crying his little heart out. In the front office, Justice sat at his desk listening to his deputy, a thoughtful look on his handsome face. She desperately wanted to go inside and find out what they were discussing. More than that, she wanted to hold Gerard and reassure him all would be well. Remembering Effie’s wise words and her own promise to Tolley that she wouldn’t interfere, she forced her feet toward the library.

  * * *

  “Mrs. Winsted says she was about to send Homer over to get one of us this morning.” Like any good deputy, Sean O’Shea had initiated his own investigation, the findings of which he was dictating to Justice. “Deely and Cart were causing havoc in her store. Among other things, they almost brought down a shelf of glass Christmas ornaments she ordered all the way from Germany. When Gerard came in, she expected even more trouble. But he bought the boys some candy and talked them into leaving. Said they should go outside and play tag.”

  Justice felt as though Gerard hit him in the chest again, only this time it was through a good deed...if that was his real purpose in luring his friends outside. His intention might have been to start the fire, and he wanted the other boys’ help.

  In the corner of his eye, he saw Evangeline walk past his window, hesitate, then march away in the direction of the library. Relief and disappointment fought inside of him. Relief won when Tolley entered the office.

  “Got a minute?” Tolley pulled up a chair and made himself at home.

  “Always for you.” Justice gave O’Shea a signal, and the deputy laid out coffee and a plate of cinnamon rolls he’d brought from Williams’s Café. “What did Mrs. Benoit say?”

  Tolley waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Let’s talk about Gerard. Or, rather, let’s talk about how much like Gerard I used to be.”

  Justice grunted. He knew Tolley’s story. Youngest of the four Northam children, this third son could never please his father. He’d caused his own share of trouble, some boyish, such as letting chickens out of their coop, some malicious, such as trying to whip up on his sister’s sweetheart and drive him out of town. Instead, Colonel Northam had sent him away. Law school had taught him to respect the law. An elderly minister had taught him to love the Lord. Tolley returned home, married Laurie Eberly and became a father, adding yet another child to the growing Northam clan. He also served as Esperanza’s only attorney and was respected by one and all, even his formerly distant father.

  Justice took a minute to enjoy a bite of cinnamon roll. “Are you saying Gerard shouldn’t be punished for starting the fire? We should just wait and see how he turns out?”

  “Nope.” Tolley shook his head for emphasis. “I’m saying let’s apply a little grace here. Let’s hear the boy’s side of the story.”

  Justice lifted the damaged coat. “This is his side of the story.”

  Tolley huffed out a brief sigh. “Are you going to let me talk to my client?”

  Justice sat back. “O’Shea, bring the boy in here.”

  The deputy opened the door to the cell room, revealing a sleeping ten-year-old. He unlocked the cell, and the creak of the iron hinges awoke Gerard.

  “The sheriff wants to see you.” O’Shea’s voice was calm, kind. Justice regretted his own harsh tone the last time he spoke to the boy.

  Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Gerard ambled into the office and took the chair beside Tolley. He stared hungrily at the cinnamon rolls.

  “Hello, Gerard.” Tolley offered him one. “Actually, I’m the one who wants to talk to you. Your mother asked me to be your lawyer, and it’s my job to make sure we figure out exactly what happened today.”

  “Yessir.” Gerard took a big bite of the roll and savored it. “These are as good as Cousin Susanna’s.”

  His artless comment gave Justice pause. Either the child had no conscience, or he was innocent. A third option? He was wily as a snake.

  “Are you cold, Gerard?” Tolley took the burned coat in hand and set it in Gerard’s lap. Then took it back. “Uh-oh. Looks like it’s ruined. That will be hard on your mother because coats are hard to come by.”

  When Tolley mentioned his mother, Justice noticed a flicker in Gerard’s eyes, so he joined in. “Your mother works hard to take care of you and Isabelle. As the oldest child, you need to help her, don’t you think? When you let your coat get ruined like this, she’ll be worried about how to keep you warm.”

  Tolley nodded his approval of the question. A tilt of his head toward the boy invited him to reply.

  “Yessir. I didn’t—” Gerard bit his lip.

  “Didn’t what?” Justice prayed for a breakthrough.

  “Mother’s making me a new coat for Christmas. She doesn’t know I know, but I sneaked out of bed one night and saw her working on it.” He took a breath as if his long speech wore him out. “Deely only has a sweater, so I gave him my coat.” Simplicity and sincerity were written across his boyish face.

  Again, Justice felt slammed in the chest by an undeniable truth. The boy had done a good deed, and it got him in trouble. The two boys resembled each other enough at a distance so other witnesses could have recognized the red coat and assumed Gerard was starting the fire. “O’Shea, see if you can find Deely and Cart. I know Gerard wants to share these cinnamon rolls with his friends. And pick up a few more and some milk at the café on your way back.”

  The deputy left, a wide grin on his face. A former New York policeman, he’d rounded up many troublesome street boys. They both knew offering them food was the best way to lure them in.

  “Gerard, after you bought the candy for your friends, what did you do?” Justice asked.

  He didn’t seem surprised Justice knew about it. “They wanted me to play with them, but I remembered Mother wanted me back at the library, so I went there.”

  “I saw you run the other way.” Justice tried to keep an accusing tone from his voice.

  “I ran around the block.” Again, his face exuded guilelessness.

  Euphoric relief so engulfed Justice that he wanted to shout. Wanted to run to the library and beg Evangeline’s forgiveness. To tell her how much he loved her and her children, both of them. Instead, he reined in his emotions and considered how to wind up this investigation.

  “Do you know what Deely and Cart did after you left them?”

  “No, sir.” Gerard finished his roll and looked hungrily at the plate.

  Justice reached across the table and pushed it closer to him. “Don’t ruin your appeti
te for supper.”

  “I won’t.” Gerard grinned widely. “Cousin Susanna makes real good food.” He grimaced comically. “Not like Mother.”

  Justice laughed out loud and, my, it felt good. “Son, what your mother lacks in cooking, she more than makes up in a hundred other ways.” He hadn’t meant to say son, but it slipped out.

  Unlike that first day when Gerard had responded in anger when he said it, this time he grinned. “I know.”

  “Tell you what. You’ll need something to wear in this cold weather.” He took a key from his pocket and handed it to the boy. “Go out back and up the stairs to my apartment. You’ll find a tan woolen poncho on the coatrack. You can wear it home.”

  “Yessir.” His brown eyes sparkling, he took the key and hurried from the room.

  “Well, I’m impressed,” Tolley said.

  “Me, too.” Justice stared after Gerard.

  “No, I mean with you. First you put the boy in jail, then you trust him to go inside your home without supervision.”

  Justice shrugged. If Evangeline could forgive him for his unfairness to Gerard, if their courtship worked out the way he prayed it would, the boy would soon have the run of a home they all shared. He could hardly wait to see this matter finished.

  * * *

  Evangeline sat at the back of the church so Isabelle could see her but not the tear tracks staining her face. She’d told Marybeth that Gerard would miss the rehearsal but not why. Her friend knew about the suspension, so Evangeline hoped she’d assume her son stayed home for the day. At the memory of his cries from the jail cell, her heart broke anew, and her anger rekindled. And yet, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit she had a part in this, too. If she’d scolded Gerard when he accidentally started the fire at the Northams’, Justice might be more willing to believe her son wouldn’t deliberately start one. Yet, at the time, Gerard was bursting with rebellion, and she’d been afraid to make it worse by trying to correct him. After observing Justice’s more than fair treatment of the cowboys who’d shot out Mrs. Winsted’s display window, she could see he simply meant to protect his community from troublemakers.