What Once Was Lost

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Levi sought a truthful answer that wouldn’t reveal his anxiety. “Look around a bit.”

  The boy folded his arms over his chest, and wariness marked his features. Over the past couple of days, Tommy had once again become Levi’s constant companion. If Levi went to the mill, Tommy went to the mill. If Levi got into the wagon to retrieve logs, Tommy rode along. He’d even found the boy waiting outside the outhouse for him. Although Tommy still wore defensiveness like a shield, he’d nonetheless dropped the desire to be left alone. Levi puzzled over the change, but he didn’t question it. He didn’t want Tommy retreating into solitude again.

  Funny how attached he’d grown to the boy. Maybe Tommy wasn’t the only one changing. The thought took him by surprise.

  They topped the rise leading to the poor farm, and Levi squinted ahead. A movement caught his attention—the outhouse door swinging open. His heart leaped with hope. She was there! But instead of Miss Willems stepping from the small building, a slight-built man emerged. Levi leaned forward a bit, examining the man from his straw hat to his boots. He’d never seen the stranger before. Had squatters decided to take up residence out here?

  Levi flicked the reins. “Get up!” The horses broke into a trot, and Tommy gripped the seat as they bounced across the rough ground and Levi drew the wagon to a halt behind the huge barn. “Stay put,” Levi told Tommy. Then he hopped down and strode to meet the man halfway between the outhouse and the farmhouse. The man grinned as Levi approached, but the grin faded when Levi barked, “Who are you, and what are you doing out here?”

  Instead of answering, the man cupped his hands and bellowed, “Grover!”

  A second man—as big boned as the first man was wiry, wearing work pants and a shirt with its sleeves rolled up to expose his trunk-sized forearms—stomped from behind the house. Levi braced himself. Two against one wouldn’t be easy, but he’d take them both on if necessary.

  As soon as the second man joined his buddy, the first one looked at Levi. “I’m Tucker. This is Grover. We’re rebuildin’ this house. Who are you, and what’re you doin’ here?”

  Chapter 38

  Christina paced the small hotel room paid for by Mr. Dunnigan. Mr. Benjamin Paul Edgar—or Ben, as she tried to remember to call him—sat on a ladder-back chair he’d carried in from his room across the hall and watched her. He’d draped his jacket over the chair’s back and loosened his tie. In his casual pose—one arm looped over the chair’s top rung and his ankle propped on his knee—he looked more like a man enjoying a break on a park bench than a lawyer determined to prove her innocent of robbery charges. She wished she could feel as relaxed as he appeared.

  “Miss Willems, you’ll wear a path in the carpet if you don’t cease your endless marching to and fro.” His wry comment, accompanied by a teasing grin, did nothing to put her at ease.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned and retraced her steps. “I can’t help it. Why would someone be so cruel as to steal from the Creegers, then give the money to Tommy and tell him it was from me?” There could be no other explanation for Tommy making such a claim. She’d never believe Tommy would deliberately try to hurt her, and he wouldn’t lie. So someone had to have misled him.

  Without shifting his position Ben threw out a question. “Can you suggest a likely party?”

  She stopped. She couldn’t shake the notion that Hamilton Dresden played a significant role in this situation. But should she accuse him? She knew far too well the pain of being held accountable for a wrong of which she was innocent. “I … I’m not sure.”

  “Please sit down,” Ben said, gesturing toward the end of the bed.

  Christina released another heavy sigh and did as he asked.

  “Now, let me tell you what I’ve discovered over the past couple of days while the sheriff had you behind lock and key. Perhaps something will open up a new possibility in your mind.” He raised one hand and ticked off his findings by extending one finger at a time. “First of all, the money taken from the mercantile was not recovered in its entirety. The boy Tommy had a significant portion of it, but close to another twenty dollars is still missing. Second, the watch Creeger purchased from you is now in the possession of a man who openly brandishes it about town.”

  “Yes, the sheriff told me. Ham Dresden has my father’s watch. But when I asked how Ham got it, the sheriff only said I should stop playing games and confess.” She threw her hands wide. “Confess to what?”

  “Dresden claims you made it available to him for a price.”

  “But I did no such thing!”

  Ben offered an unconcerned nod. “And of course that will all come out in court.” He raised another finger. “Third, there has been been sabotage at the poor farm—the deliberate destruction of donated lumber.”

  But that had nothing to do with the thefts. Or did it? Confused, she remained silent.

  “All right then. One more point.” He flicked the fourth finger upward and fixed Christina with a steady look. “Most of the rumors circulating about town concerning your probable guilt seem to originate with one person—Mr. Hamilton Dresden. Do you know why he would be so determined to sully your name?”

  Christina swallowed and chose her words carefully. “Ham Dresden resided briefly at the poor farm. He behaved inappropriately toward one of the other residents, and I had to ask him to leave. He … he didn’t take it well. So I’m sure he holds a grudge against me.” The man’s scathing remarks rang through Christina’s mind. She cringed.

  Ben stroked his goatee as he considered this, a gesture Christina had already witnessed several times in their short time together. “Would resentment develop into revenge, do you think?”

  Christina couldn’t suppress a short laugh. “To be perfectly honest, I think he’s too lazy to invent a plan of revenge.” Sadness settled around her heart. “My guess is he seized the opportunity to expound upon what others were saying in order to inflict pain on me.”

  “Well, then, what we have here is a puzzle.” Ben rose and snagged his jacket with one finger, then tossed it over his back. He stroked the length of his goatee with two fingers. “But puzzles always have a solution, and they’re usually more obvious than we’d expect.”

  He strode to the doorway, which they’d left open for the sake of propriety. Pausing, he gave Christina a reassuring smile. “Enjoy a few days of leisure, Miss Willems. Mr. Dunnigan has arranged for your meals to be delivered to the room. If you require anything—books, writing materials, additional clothing—just tell one of the employees. They’ve been instructed to check on you hourly and meet your needs. But”—he turned stern—“do not, for any reason, leave the hotel. We chose this room for its location. There is no possible means of sneaking out unseen. We must have means to verify your whereabouts at all times so you can’t be held accountable for any further illicit activities. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Good.” His smile returned. “Now it’s time for me to go solve our puzzle. Good day, Miss Willems.”

  The door latch clicked behind him. Christina stared at the closed door, then let her gaze drift across the rosebud wallpaper, tall bureau, washstand, and colorful quilt. Although the room was much more comfortable and cheery than the cell at the sheriff’s office, she was no less a prisoner here than she’d been there.

  Levi ran his hand over the newly plastered walls. Smooth as silk. He had to admit, the men seemed to be telling the truth. They’d done too fine a job to be anything but skilled builders. And they’d done just as well on the outside. The roof still lacked shingles, but the fire-damaged joists and sheathing had all been replaced. The walls wore four-inch cedar lap boards over one-by-twelve framing of crisp white pine. Tongue-and-groove boards formed the soffit, and they’d added a decorative molding where the soffit met the siding. Levi whistled through his teeth. No expense had been spared in reconstructing the damaged areas.

  “So whaddaya think, mister? Will the owner be satisfied?” The shorter man, Tuc
ker, smirked at Levi.

  Levi stepped back and gave a nod. “More than pleased, I’d say. I didn’t realize the mission board had the funds to do the repairs.” Miss Willems wouldn’t need his donated lumber after all. The realization brought an unexpected disappointment.

  “Mission board?” Tucker scratched his head. Outside the open door Grover carted off scraps of leftover lumber. “We weren’t hired by any mission board. Man from over in Kansas City—name of Dunnigan—bought the place lock, stock, an’ barrel an’ sent us over to work the very same day. Pulled us off a job there in the city an’ said he’d pay double if we could have it all done in less than a week. So we’ve been busy as a pair o’ beavers over here. Even sleepin’ in the barn so we don’t have to leave the grounds. ’Course, some big fella—comes out every day to tend the critters in the barn—near run us off ’til he saw what we was doin’. Then he seemed pleased as can be an’ didn’t give us no more trouble.”

  Levi listened with half an ear. Did Miss Willems know the poor farm had been sold? Maybe that’s why he couldn’t find her. Maybe she’d left town since she no longer had a place to live. If so, he’d never see her again. And what would become of Tommy?

  Pushing aside his worrisome thoughts, Levi said, “Dunnigan will be very happy with your repairs. Any idea what he plans to do with the place? Seems odd for a fellow who lives so far away in a big city to be interested in a house in a little town like Brambleville.”

  “Mister, we don’t ask nosy questions. We just do our job.” Tucker inched toward the door. “I gotta get back to work. We still need to paint inside an’ out an’ get those shingles on the roof. Dunnigan’ll be sendin’ somebody out to inspect the place on Saturday, an’ if we ain’t finished, we don’t get our double pay.”

  Levi watched the man head out the door. Lock, stock, and barrel, the man had said. That must mean the house, its furnishings, and the outbuildings, too, leaving Miss Willems with nothing.

  Even though he had no reason to stay any longer, desire to familiarize himself with the place she’d called home overwhelmed him. Hands in his pockets, Levi wandered the house, counting sleeping rooms as he went. Seven in all—one on the ground floor behind the kitchen, and six on the second floor. Decorative spandrels, a spindled staircase, and elaborately carved door and window trims seemed ostentatious for a poor farm, but all the space made the house a perfect place to shelter several people. He knew of no other house in or near Brambleville that would work as well for a poor farm.

  So if she hadn’t already left, she’d have to leave soon. A band wrapped itself around his chest and squeezed, making it hard to breathe. He didn’t want to lose her. Tommy needed her. He needed her.

  “Hey, mister?”

  Tucker’s voice pulled Levi from his sad ponderings. He trotted down the stairs and met the man at the base. “What?”

  “We just found something kind of curious. You know anything about the people who lived here … how they made a living?”

  Levi shrugged. “The house has been used as a poor farm. As far as I know, the woman in charge relied on the mission board to help with expenses.”

  “So she wouldn’t have lots of money pigeonholed away somewhere?”

  The fine hairs on the back of Levi’s neck stood up. “I don’t think so.”

  “Come look at this.” Tucker led Levi to the backyard, where Grover crouched beside the house. As Levi and Tucker approached, the man stood, revealing a gap in the stone foundation. Tucker pointed. “Grover here bumped the foundation with his ladder, an’ one o’ the stones moved. Shook us up a little bit, you know. We don’t wanna be creatin’ more work. Then we got to lookin’, an’ that stone was held in place with nothin’ more’n mud. The cement mortar’d all been scraped away. Grover kicked at it a little bit, an’ it fell clean underneath the house. When he reached in to pull it back out, this what he found.”

  Grover, a dumbfounded look on his face, thrust out his beefy hand. He clutched a stack of bills bound by a strip of brown paper. Levi took the stack. All fifties, crisp and new looking. He probably held a thousand dollars. He gaped first at the money and then at the pair of men.

  Tucker nodded. “Uh-huh, that’s exactly what we thought. And there’s more, too. Grover said three or four bundles for sure. A fortune right there under the kitchen.” He shook his head. “Me ’n Grover, we ain’t never seen that much in one place. I’ll be right honest with ya—I come close to sayin’, ‘Let’s just grab this an’ skedaddle.’ But my mama raised me better’n that, God rest her soul. So we ain’t gonna take it. But seems plain foolish to leave money in such a place. Why not use a bank?”

  Grover gazed solemnly at the stack. “The only reason I can think why a person wouldn’t use a bank is if he didn’t want anyone to know he had so much money.”

  Levi nodded thoughtfully. The money had been well hidden. Someone wanted to keep it a secret. He marveled that the fire hadn’t burned it to a crisp. The house’s firm stone foundation had protected the treasure. But whose treasure? The question begged an answer.

  Tucker tapped his finger on the thick stack. “Whaddaya think we should do with it?”

  Levi chewed the inside of his cheek. If he took the money into town, the sheriff would probably think it belonged to Miss Willems. That could be true, but Levi was more inclined to believe she had no knowledge of the stash. Otherwise why would she have sold her watch? Whoever put it there probably thought it was secure, and he might come back for it. If he found it missing, he’d go straight after Miss Willems. Taking it could only cause problems.

  He shoved it back into Grover’s hands. “I think we should leave it where you found it. Try to get that rock back in the hole. I agree it looks mighty odd to keep money under the house this way, but sometimes rich folks are eccentric. Maybe the people who built the house hid that money there and then forgot about it.”

  Tucker’s eyes grew round. “Would you forget about that much money?”

  Levi chuckled. “No. But then I’ve never been rich.”

  Grover knelt and plunged his hand through the opening. He grunted as he worked to bring the rock back into place. Tucker stood watching, his tongue caught in the corner of his lips as if hungering for something.

  After several minutes Grover managed to wedge the rock back into its spot. His fingertips were bleeding, and he wiped them on his dusty pant legs as he straightened.

  “Well, that’s that, then.” Tucker seemed disappointed. Levi understood. Holding it had spurred ideas of all the things he could do with such an amount. But it wasn’t his. It now belonged to the new owner, who’d purchased the property lock, stock, and barrel. The man sighed. “Guess we’ll just forget we saw it.”

  Grover stared at the rock, which sat loosely in the opening. “Kinda hard to forget a thing like that.”

  “Don’t forget,” Levi said. “You’ll want to tell Dunnigan about it. And …” Concern pricked. If these two men had located the secret stash, someone else might stumble upon it, too. He gave the pair a serious look. “Keep an eye on it. You see anybody nosing around here, chase them off.”

  Tucker looked right and left, his body tense. “Whew. Knowin’ it’s there makes me edgy. How many times does a fella come upon a real fortune? Almost feel like one o’ them leprechauns that found a pot o’ gold.” He danced a little jig.

  Grover guffawed and smacked Tucker on the back.

  Levi shook his head, grinning at the pair. “Just be sure to let Dunnigan know it’s there. He can decide what to do with it.”

  “You betcha, mister. Bye now.”

  Tucker and Grover returned to work, and Levi headed for his wagon. He’d spent enough time out here. Wasted time, since Miss Willems wasn’t here and never would be. Sadness bowed his head, and he scuffed up clumps of grass as he crossed the grounds. He rounded the barn and lifted his gaze to apologize to Tommy for taking so long. But to his shock the seat was empty. Tommy was gone.

  Chapter 39

  Cora hummed as she
swept the walkway in front of the mercantile. Only another hour until closing. She could hardly wait. Not because she was tired of working, but because she’d get to sit down with Ma and Pa Creeger for some Bible reading and prayer. After she’d told Jesus she wanted Him to take away her sins, Ma Creeger said she’d need to grow in her faith. The best way to do that, she’d claimed, was to study His Word.

  Dust and bits of dried grass deposited by people’s feet scooted from the broom’s straws. Cora chased every bit of grime clear into the street as she pondered her newly discovered delight in studying. She’d never been much of a scholar. Book learning was something to be borne rather than enjoyed, but learning from the Bible was different. Exciting. Pa Creeger taught so patiently, explaining the portions she found hard to understand, and she could ask as many questions as she wanted without him ever getting aggravated.

  She paused, considering how Pa and Ma Creeger would be the best parents ever for a child. But they’d both said no. They insisted Cora would regret giving up her child. She put one hand to her lower spine and arched backward, easing a stitch that caught at her side. Maybe they were right, but—

  “Cora …”

  The single word held condemnation and startled Cora out of her daydreams. She turned to find Mrs. Tatum on the edge of the boardwalk, staring straight at Cora’s belly. Instinctively, Cora dropped the broom and folded her arms over her swollen middle.

  The woman’s astounded gaze lifted and bored into Cora’s face. “You’re with child!” Her voice quivered with indignation.

  Ma Creeger had warned Cora that folks might start noticing. Pa and Ma Creeger had both been praying for Cora to be strong if anyone was unkind. But even though they’d prayed and she’d braced herself, this first arrow plunged deep.

  She trembled, but she held herself erect. “Yes, ma’am. I am.”