“Your father is the one on trial here, not you. We’ve advised him of the trouble he’s in. Now you get on home and take care of your family.”
I should never have come alone, Polly thought bitterly. The sheriff wouldn’t talk to the pastor that way.
A blast of icy air tore at her throat and announced the arrival of someone in the office.
“Sheriff, I’m here to see my client.”
Joey Carpenter stood in front of the door.
Joseph could tell he’d arrived in the nick of time. Polly looked as wilted as a starched apron on a hot summer day. He wanted to pull her close and comfort her, if she would let him. Where did that thought come from? He was here as a longtime friend of the Jessups, nothing more, and he had urgent matters to address.
“You’re going to represent Jessup?” Skepticism laced Mr. Johnson’s voice.
Joseph straightened his spine, willing away all doubt. “If he’ll have me.”
“Isn’t that—what do they call it?—a conflict of interest with your business with the bank?” Mr. Johnson raised an eyebrow, urging Joseph to abandon this crazy crusade.
“I can’t say until I know the nature of the charges.” Joseph felt the weight of Mr. Johnson’s standing as the town’s foremost citizen pressing on him, but he’d learned to face down intimidation in the courtroom. He looked at the man, who had until now been his prospective father-in-law, without blinking.
Mr. Johnson’s mouth closed. “It’s all here.” He thrust the papers at Joseph.
“Thank you.” Joseph took them. “May I see my client now?”
Polly took a half step forward. “May I …?”
Joseph almost agreed, to set her heart at rest, but he needed to speak with Jessup in private. “Not now. I’ll come by your house after I’ve spoken with your father.” Noticing she wore only a shawl for protection against the elements, he said, “Take my coat with you. I’ll pick it up when I see you later.”
Polly opened her mouth to protest before demurring and accepting the coat. At the door, she glanced at him over her shoulder, anguish written in her eyes.
“Go ahead,” he said, wishing he could do more to make this easier for her. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Nodding, she opened the door, and a world of white swallowed her. When Joseph returned his attention to the office, Mr. Johnson was speaking.
“When do you think the hearing will be?”
The sheriff shrugged. “It depends on when Judge Heffner gets here. Before noon tomorrow, if we’re lucky.”
“The judge is coming here? Tomorrow?” So soon? How could he possibly prepare?
“Unless the snow keeps him home.”
In either case, Joseph faced a long night of preparation. He doubted he would get much sleep.
Mr. Johnson took his leave. He paused as he brushed past Joseph. “I won’t expect you for dinner.” Whether he meant it as a statement of Joseph’s plans for the evening or a permanent dismissal of his daughter’s suitor, Joseph couldn’t tell. At the moment, he didn’t care. The front door slammed.
“I suppose you want to see Jessup?” the sheriff asked.
“Yes.”
Sheriff Hurd unlocked the doors and escorted Joseph into the first of the jail’s two cells. Jessup sat on a cot, staring through the bars as if they weren’t there. The look on his face reminded Joseph of the day he’d found him heading toward the farm that used to belong to him. When he saw them approach, he stood to his feet, his eyes begging for enlightenment. “Sheriff. What am I doing here?”
Sheriff Hurd worked his mouth, as if searching for words to explain. Joseph suspected that no answer would penetrate the haze that surrounded the man in the cell, at least not in his present state. “Why don’t I let your lawyer here explain it to you? Mrs. Hurd will be here shortly with some grub.” He said the latter as much to Joseph as to his client.
Joseph didn’t know how much he could explain, even if Jessup could understand. Until he reviewed the documents, he didn’t know the details of the charges beyond “bank robbery.” He thought back to the previous evening, to the shopping spree Jessup had enjoyed at the mercantile. Could there be any truth to the accusation? He mentally shook himself. Everyone was innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.
Even if his lawyer harbored severe doubts.
Chapter 6
He doesn’t remember taking the money,” Joey told Polly. “But there’s no doubt it’s gone.” Polly sipped her coffee, hoping the fiery liquid would help her take it all in. An air of unreality pervaded the night. Once she’d arrived home, she had fed stew to the rest of the family and only explained that Pa had been detained. When she sent the others to bed, Dolores stayed behind.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
Polly struggled with a desire to spill the story to her sister but refrained. She saw no need to burden the young girl with suppositions and possibilities. Tomorrow morning, once she heard what Joey had to say, would come soon enough.
“I don’t know,” she had said. “Not everything. I promise, I’ll tell you when I do. But right now, the little ones need your help. Especially Hazel. Can you do that for me?”
Dolores had agreed and gone to bed with the others. Polly waited for Joseph to come. One hour went by. Then two. The clock had chimed nine times before she heard a knock at the door.
She’d hoped for good news, feared bad. “You think he did it.”
“I’m saying money is missing from the bank.” Joey paced the kitchen floor, as if in rehearsal for the coming hearing. “And there’s more.” He bit his lip, the most candid response she had seen from him so far.
“He spent a lot of money at the emporium last night.” She said it for him. She didn’t know how he knew, but apparently he did. Probably a lot of people did.
A look of resignation replaced a fleeting look of relief on his face. “So you know. I met him leaving the store last night.”
“I helped him put away the packages.” She thought about the wrapped parcels waiting in her parents’ bedroom, thought of the money they cost. That brought another concern to mind. “You know we don’t have money to pay you at this time. But we’ll take care of it, somehow.”
He waved that aside. “I’m not worried about that.” He came to a standstill and slid into a chair across from her. “I need to ask you some questions. You might not like what I have to say, but I need to know.”
The determined set of his mouth told Polly he believed Pa was guilty. But he still wanted to help. The truth was, Polly didn’t know what to believe. “All right.”
“Do you know how much money your father makes a week?”
Polly thought back to the chaotic condition their finances had reached before she had convinced Pa to let her manage money matters. From then on, she gave him money to settle their debts—and then checked to make sure the money had reached the intended hands. Sometimes Pa had forgotten, and she had learned to factor that into their expenses. But nothing like this had ever happened.
“I can do better than that. I can show you.” She brought out the ledger where she kept track of their income and expenses, as well as her pitiful attempts to save against the day she feared her father would no longer be able to work. “You can see there’s not much there.” Except a possible motive to take easy money? She shook away the doubts. “Pa might get … confused … sometimes. But he’s as honest as the day is long. I’d stake my life on it.”
“Polly.” Joey looked at her, a heart-turning half grin on his face. “Or should I say Mary? Anyone grown-up enough to take care of all this”—his gesture took in the books, the house, her life—”deserves to be called by her real name, not a child’s nickname.”
Heat burned through her, and she felt a moment of giddy relief from the worry weighing down her shoulders. “I wish I had better news for you.”
The heat that stained her cheeks might have come from happiness at the compliment or despair. “What is it?”
&nb
sp; Joey tapped his pencil on the pad of paper in front of him. “The bank puts a special mark on each teller’s bills. So if there’s a discrepancy, they can tell who made the error.”
Polly knew what was coming before he said it.
“Everyone else’s money tally was complete.”
She waited for the final blow.
“And the money he spent at the store—well, it was marked with his initials.” He sucked in a deep breath before daring to look at her. “The money he spent at the mercantile was from his till. There’s no doubt about it.”
Joseph hadn’t known how he would break the news to Polly, but he knew he had to. He wished he could take the words back, take back the past twenty-four hours, undo all the burdens placed on her young shoulders.
The least he could do was share the burden with her. He waited through her long silence.
“What will happen at the hearing?” Polly spoke in a low voice.
“Will he—go to jail?” Her voice trembled but didn’t break.
Joseph frowned. Polly might not approve of his trial strategy. “I think we can avoid that, if you’re willing to testify.”
“You just said they’ve proved he’s guilty. And I can’t prove any different. In fact—” Now a sob shuddered through her. “Oh, Joey, what am I going to do?”
He wanted to get out of his chair and take her in his arms and comfort her, but he settled for taking her hands in his. “I’m going to see you through this. I know it’s what God wants me to do.” Did that sound cold and uncaring? “It’s what I want to do.”
“Thank you.” Bright wetness shone in her eyes but no tears fell, and she stood. Moving to the sink, she stared out the window at the falling snow. “I don’t see how the judge can get here in this weather. Can we discuss this in the morning?” She coughed. “You need to get on home before it gets any worse. You can’t spend the night here.”
“I already thought of that. The sheriff said I could bring some personal items for your father tonight. After that, I’m going to the boardinghouse where Gabe is staying. He already offered to share his room.” Ice crystals had formed on the window, and he, too, wondered how anyone would travel. He sighed. “Let me at least tell you my basic defense strategy, in case the hearing is held tomorrow. Then I’ll come back over for breakfast and tell you the rest.”
Polly stood as still as an ice statue for a brief moment, eyes closed in prayer. When she finished, she nodded and rejoined him at the table, much calmer.
“Tell me what you need me to do.”
Joey had plenty of time to prepare after all. The storm had kept the judge from reaching Breading that day or the next. Of course, that also meant Pa spent the weekend in jail.
By Sunday, the sun was shining and the snow, now a distant memory, had melted into the muddy earth. Polly searched for the Christmas spirit that had danced through her heart over the previous few weeks, but couldn’t find it. She didn’t know how she would continue, even if Joseph’s plan worked and Pa got to come home.
“Polly.” Shaking her hand, Pastor Denton greeted her as warmly as ever. His kindness brought tears to her eyes. He was letting the whole congregation know that he stood behind them in their current situation.
“Polly, there you are.” Jean came up behind the pastor, Abe at her side and followed by her parents and Joseph. “We are counting on you taking dinner with us.” Another public proclamation of friendship.
Polly didn’t want to socialize but knew she must accept the invitation, if only for the sake of the children. “We’ll accept, gladly.”
Gabe walked in next, leading the children’s Sunday school class like the Pied Pier of Hamlin.
“He’s been working with them on the Christmas program this week,” Pastor Denton said. “He’s amazing.”
He’d what? Before she could think about it further, he’d settled the children with their parents and hurried to her side. “How are you, Miss Jessup?”
“Mr. Noell, I’m so glad you’re here.” Mrs. Carpenter spoke before Polly could answer. “We wanted to invite you for dinner today, to repay you for your kindness in taking in Joseph the other night.”
At that moment, the church doors opened again, and sunlight outlined the members of the Johnson family. Martha waved at Gabe, but the others all turned a stony profile and walked down the aisle to their usual seats at the front on the organ side. They had donated the instrument to the church, after all.
Polly glanced at Joseph, wondering how he took the snub. He rolled his shoulders and smiled in her direction, and relief ran through her.
“I’m afraid I must get to the front,” the pastor said. The organist was playing the introduction to “What Child Is This?”.
After the singing of the carols, Pastor Denton invited them to turn to the passage in Luke that dealt with Jesus’ presentation at the temple. The knowledge God had given to Simeon and Anna about the identity of the baby Jesus amazed Polly yet again.
“Today we’ll be looking at the most difficult event Mary had to face, one that would break the heart of every mother.
Her perfect, divine son was born to die. When Simeon held the squirming newborn baby, he saw into His future. He told Mary, ‘This child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against: (Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also.)’ “.
Mary couldn’t have known what that meant, not then, at the dedication of her miracle baby. But only the blink of an eye later, she stood by His side at the cross, her son condemned to die a criminal’s death. How could that be God’s will? How could any good come of it?
Polly’s personal problems dimmed in comparison. The pastor walked through Mary’s life, showing how she always placed her troubles in the Lord’s hands, even for something as mundane as running out of wine at a wedding. Polly vowed to do the same.
At the end of the service, the owner of the mercantile, Grant Richards, approached Polly. “Miss Jessup, may I speak with you privately for a few moments? Pastor Denton suggested we use the Sunday school room in the back.”
The mercantile. Polly’s throat went dry. Did Mr. Richards plan to prosecute Pa as well? His face reflected nothing but kindness and concern. Remember Mary, she reminded herself.
“Go ahead and go with the Carpenters,” Polly told Dolores. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.” Out the study window, she looked to the lean-to where the manger scene that Gabe Noell was crafting stood. What would his Mary look like? The roof showed the effects of the snow, and she wondered how the adverse weather had affected his progress. She prayed while she waited for the storekeeper to join her.
A few minutes later, Mr. Richards came in with Pastor Denton. “I don’t ordinarily encourage this kind of business on the Sabbath.” Denton held out his hands to Polly. “But these are special circumstances.”
Someone knocked at the door, and to Polly’s surprise, Joey entered.
“Carpenter. Good, glad you could make it.” Mr. Richards rose to his feet and shook Joey’s hand. Everyone turned their attention to Polly.
“I feel terrible about what’s happened with Mr. Jessup.” The merchant took off his hat and turned it around in his hands. “I feel like it’s my fault for turning that money over to Mr. Johnson like I did.”
Polly couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
“The truth is, you and your pa have always done right by us. Always made sure you paid your account. I’d be happy to let you keep the things your pa bought. But Joseph here”—Mr. Richards nodded at Joey—”thinks it best if you return the items Mr. Jessup bought. Do you know where they are?”
Polly thought about Pa’s bedroom, the joy he had felt in hiding away presents for Christmas morning. “Yes.” She couldn’t manage any more. “I’ll get them back to you first thing in the morning. I should have thought about it before now.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Pastor Denton said.
“And I’ll testify to that judge abo
ut your pa’s character. He’s been a little—confused lately, but he’s never taken so much as a peppermint. Anybody who knows your pa knows that.”
“Thank you, Mr. Richards.” Polly held back the sniffle that signaled a desire to give way to weeping—something she refused to do.
“We’re behind you,” the pastor said. “Everyone’s prayers go with you into the courtroom tomorrow.”
Everyone except the Johnsons’. Polly kept that thought to herself.
Joseph accompanied Polly to his parents’ house. As they trudged through the icy mud, he studied her appearance. Given the circumstances of helping defend her father and taking care of the family, he feared she would neglect her own needs. But at least she had dressed warmly and put on sensible boots. Her brown hair shone against the dark red of her coat. In her mature dignity, she looked more beautiful than ever. Beauty from the inside outshone Alice’s Paris fashions.
“I’m sorry about coming between you and the Johnsons. You didn’t have to take Pa’s case, but I’m glad you did.”
“Think nothing of it.” How like Polly. Instead of worrying about her own difficulties, she thought about his.
“But what about Alice?” Polly hesitated, her face turning the same shade as her coat. “You seemed to be courting her.”
Why had Joseph ever thought stepping out with the banker’s daughter was a good idea? Outward wealth couldn’t mask her inward paucity of spirit. “I have no interest in a woman who doesn’t understand that it’s my duty to represent anyone who gets into trouble with the law.”
Polly frowned.
What had he said wrong? He deeply regretted increasing Polly’s pain.
He prayed he wouldn’t have more to regret after tomorrow’s hearing.
Chapter 7
In view of the fact full restitution has been made to the bank, Jacob Jessup is hereby sentenced to jail time not to exceed thirty days provided he pays a fine of fifty dollars.” Polly slumped back against the hard seat. They hadn’t received everything they had hoped for, but it could have been much worse. At least the judge hadn’t bowed to the power of the Johnsons.
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