'Til Death (A Rebel Ridge Novel)

by Sharon Sala

  He sat down at the laptop and sent a message to Toby, the foreman on the other crew, then kept working, but with an eye on the clock so he would be on time to pick up his aunt. He ran a quick check of his bank accounts, personal and business, before logging off. All was in order, which gave him the freedom to continue his pursuit of justice.

  As the time to leave drew near he went to shave, then got out a good shirt, his bolo tie and his favorite Western suit, cleaned his good boots so they would be shiny and began to get dressed. The knot in his gut was still there. In a way he felt he was getting dressed for a funeral rather than a Sunday outing, and he knew it was because of the uncertainty of his reception. By the time he was ready to go he was tense and defensive. He settled the Stetson on his head and locked up.

  He started up the road with the heater going full blast so it would be warm in the cab by the time he picked up his aunt. The farther he drove, the easier he became. As he came around a curve in the road he braked suddenly to keep from hitting a coyote that had darted out in front of him, running with a chicken in its mouth. The coyote leaped into the trees on the other side of the road and disappeared.

  Linc shook his head at the unexpected sight. It wasn’t common to see that in broad daylight. Someone was now minus a good laying hen.

  He reached Tildy’s house without further delay, noting as he pulled up to her house that it was straight up eleven o’clock. Perfect timing.

  As he walked through the gate, he saw the curtain move at the window. He smiled. She’d been watching for him. And when he got to the porch, she opened the door before he could knock.

  The woman standing in the doorway was nothing like the one who walked the mountain in old overalls and work boots, gathering herbs and ginseng with no care for appearance. She had taken the braid out of her hair and wound the length on the top of her head like a silver crown. The dress she was wearing was a long-sleeved blue shirtwaist, with a round collar trimmed in white tatting.

  “Aunt Tildy! You look beautiful!” Linc said.

  “Oh, this old thing,” she said, and tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but he saw her smile.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes. I need to get my coat and bag, and then I’m ready.”

  Linc got her coat from the back of the sofa and helped her put it on, then leaned down and kissed her cheek. She smelled of flowers and ladies’ face powder. Another revelation about a woman who lived and breathed the healing herbs that she gathered.

  “You even smell good,” he said.

  She patted his cheek. “Thank you. I haven’t heard that in a while.”

  He waited as she locked her door, offered her his arm as they went to the truck, then helped her up into the seat.

  “Nice and warm in here,” she said as he got in behind the wheel.

  “Yes, ma’am. Can’t have you freezing your little feet in those pretty shoes you’re wearing.”

  Tildy beamed. “I haven’t put on a pair of dress shoes in so long I nearly forgot how to walk in them, but I must say, I have been looking forward to this day.”

  “Me, too, Aunt Tildy. I’m just a little anxious about our reception. I don’t want the cold shoulder I might get to ruin your meal.”

  “I don’t care what other people think. I got my own mind about what’s right and what’s not.”

  “Then we’re good to go,” he said.

  Thirteen

  “I thought I’d let you know what’s happened since I talked to you last,” Linc said. “I confronted Wes and Lucy yesterday. It was pretty ugly, but at least now they know I’m here and why.”

  “Good. I hope it gave both of them nightmares last night,” Tildy said.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, me, too. But it also set me to thinking about something you said a while back. About the White family home being in foreclosure and then it suddenly getting paid off.”

  She nodded. “Yes, that did happen.”

  “I don’t suppose anyone knew what happened?”

  “I never heard anything beyond what Mrs. White said, that they came into some money.”

  “And that’s all she said?”

  “It’s all I heard.”

  “I don’t suppose you know what kind of money we’re talking about?”

  Tildy frowned. “Well, I can’t say how much they got, but I do know how much they owed, because Mrs. White used to cry when she’d come get my salve for her rheumatism. She kept saying they were no more likely to ever come by four hundred dollars all at once, let alone the forty thousand they owed.”

  “Forty thousand! That’s a lot of money to owe on any land here on Rebel Ridge. I wonder how they came to owe so much on land that had been in their family for generations.”

  “Her husband was a poor manager and hated to work worse than anyone I ever knew. I think what happened is that he mortgaged it a piece at a time until they found themselves without a single acre of land that was free and clear.”

  Linc listened as he drove, letting Tildy talk and nodding when it was necessary, but he was convinced his next step was to find out where that money had come from. But not today. Today was about chicken and dumplings and putting another smile on Aunt Tildy’s face.

  “Here’s hoping this goes well,” he said as he parked at Frankie’s Eats. “Looks like we got here at a good time. Only three other cars.”

  “Church isn’t out yet,” she said. “It’ll be packed later.”

  He put on his Stetson and then helped Tildy out of the truck, shielding her from the cold wind with his body. She slipped her hand in the crook of his arm, and walked into the restaurant with her chin up and a satisfied smile on her face.

  Sue Ellen was heading toward a table when she saw Tildy Bennett come into the restaurant all dressed up. Then she saw the big good-looking cowboy on the old woman’s arm and stopped. She knew who it was because she’d heard the gossip, but she wouldn’t have recognized him as the cute boy her cousin Meg used to date. Lord, but he had filled out just fine.

  “Hey, Aunt Tildy! My, you look pretty!” Sue Ellen said, and smiled at Linc. “Y’all sit anywhere. I’ll be right there to take your orders.”

  He recognized Sue Ellen, remembered she was one of Meg’s cousins and was pleasantly surprised by the smile. He led Tildy to a booth along the wall and then helped her off with her coat.

  “This okay, Aunt Tildy?”

  “It’s fine.”

  He saw the others watching, but when they realized he’d caught them, they quickly looked away. He sighed as he took off his hat and put it on the seat beside him.

  Sue Ellen showed up still wearing the smile. “I swear, Lincoln Fox, I would never have recognized you. You sure did turn into a big, good-looking man.”

  He grinned. “And you’re still a flirt, Sue Ellen. I hope you married a generous-hearted man who can handle it.”

  She giggled. “All I can say is that my Jesse likes me just the way I am. Now y’all know that Sunday dinner is just the chicken and dumplings with two sides, right? We don’t cook anything else today.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Linc said. “We’ll take two dinners, with whatever is for dessert.”

  “That would be coconut-cream pie. And what would you like to drink? Coffee or iced tea?”

  “I’d like coffee,” Tildy said. “It’s right cold out today.”

  “Make that two,” Linc said.

  The diner began to fill up as their meal progressed. Everyone knew Tildy and identified her dining partner by process of elimination, Lincoln Fox being the only stranger in town who happened to be Tildy Bennett’s kin.

  He’d expected the curiosity and suspected there was a good deal of judgment with it. A couple of men made a point of staring straight at him and didn’t bother looking away. No secret as to what they were feeling.

  As Linc and Tildy were finishing their meal, the door opened again with another couple coming in to eat, and Linc recognized George, the man who’d run through the barbed-wire f
ence. When he saw Linc and Aunt Tildy, he headed straight for them.

  “Good to see you again,” George said, and quickly introduced his wife. “This is my wife, Loretta. Loretta, this here is Lincoln Fox, Aunt Tildy’s nephew. He helped cut off that wire. Lincoln, Loretta’s kin to the Duroys, on the other side of the mountain.”

  Lincoln stood up as the introduction was made, which did not go unnoticed by the other women in the room.

  “I don’t believe I know your people, but it’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  Loretta shook hands vigorously. “I sure appreciate what you did for my George.”

  “I was happy to help.” He glanced at George. “I trust you’re about healed up?”

  “Pretty much. It’s good to see you again. If you’re ever up our way, stop in and say hello. I make a real good peach wine you might like to try.”

  “I will,” Linc said.

  “We better seat ourselves or Sue Ellen will give our table away,” George said, and led his wife over to the last empty table in the room.

  Linc sat back down, aware that the mood in the room had shifted slightly in his favor.

  Sue Ellen came sailing by with a trayful of desserts, took off two servings of coconut pie and put them on their table, winked and left.

  “She’s a caution,” Tildy said, and took a bite of the pie. “It’s good pie, but I think it’s shy a bit of vanilla flavoring.”

  Linc hid a grin. “You’re right, it is good pie, but not as good as yours.”

  She smiled. “Why, thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome, Aunt Tildy.”

  They finished their pie while talking about little memories from the past. Linc was getting out his billfold to pay when an elderly couple walked in.

  The woman saw Tildy and headed straight for their table, much like George had done, and once again Lincoln was on his feet as the old woman began to talk.

  “Hello, Tildy. My sakes, don’t you look nice. Is this here your nephew, Lincoln...the one who hung Beulah Justice’s door, and set her up in wood and propane?”

  Tildy gave Linc an apologetic look. “Lincoln, these are my nearest neighbors, Elvis and Jewel Thurgood.”

  “Ma’am...Mr. Thurgood. Pleased to meet you,” Linc said.

  Jewel squinted as she looked up. “Lordy be, but you’re a big one, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Jewel took a deep breath and then started talking again. “Tildy, you know how I am.... I believe in signs and fate...and since Elvis and I are in desperate need of help, I consider this meeting fated to be. Elvis can’t remember which is up and which is down these days, so I don’t trust him with the tools anymore. He’s not much, but he’s mine, and I take good care of what’s mine.”

  Linc stifled a smile. Poor Elvis didn’t look as discombobulated as Jewel claimed, but then again, it was hard to tell, because he was following Sue Ellen to an empty table, leaving Jewel on her own to do the talking.

  “What do you need?” Tildy asked.

  “It’s my back stoop. It’s falling in, and I’m afraid to walk out on it anymore, even though Elvis keeps going out when I tell him not to. I’m afraid he’s going to break a leg and then I’d have to put him down.”

  Linc blinked. “You don’t mean you’d shoot him?”

  Tildy hid a grin. The expression on Linc’s face was priceless.

  Jewel frowned. “Well, Lordy be, no. That’s illegal. However, I would have to put him down in the old-folks home in Mount Sterling, and Elvis isn’t good with strangers. I am appealing to your Christian duty to help thy neighbor as they would help you.”

  Tildy frowned. “That’s not exactly how that goes.”

  Jewel glared at Tildy, then shifted her gaze back to Linc.

  “So will you fix up my back porch like you fixed Beulah’s door?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it would be my pleasure,” he said. “I’ll have Aunt Tildy show me where you live and I’ll be there first thing in the morning to see what supplies I’ll need to fix it, if that’s all right with you.”

  Jewel threw up her hands. “Praise the Lord!” Then she realized her husband was gone. “Where’s Elvis?”

  Linc pointed to the table across the room, where Elvis had taken a seat and was visiting with Sue Ellen.

  Jewel gasped. “That old flirt. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”

  She sped across the diner and took a seat with her husband.

  “I’m so sorry,” Tildy said. “I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

  Linc chuckled. “It’s all right. But you have to come with me.”

  Tildy grinned. “Surely you’re not scared of one little old lady?”

  “I plead the fifth, and I see another car pulling up out in the parking lot. We’d better get out of here so they can clean up this table for someone else.”

  “I’m ready when you are,” she said as he helped her on with her coat.

  He threw down a handful of bills that included a generous tip and settled the Stetson back on his head as they started toward the door. As he passed a tableful of men, one of them stated loudly what had been on the minds of many in the room.

  “’Bout time he left. I wasn’t in no mood to eat a meal with a killer.”

  Tildy stumbled and would have fallen if Linc hadn’t been holding her arm. But before she could speak on Linc’s behalf, another man on the opposite side of the room spoke up.

  “You need to keep your mouth shut, Bill Staley. Wayne Fox swore his grandson was innocent. I believed it then, and I believe it now. He wouldn’t have covered up a damn thing for the person who killed his own son, and you’re a fool if you think otherwise.”

  And that was all it took. Like throwing a match into a pile of dry leaves, the shouting began. Before it could become an all-out fight, Linc raised his voice.

  “Stop! All of you. This isn’t your war, it’s mine, and there are no sides to take. Someone on Rebel Ridge got away with murder. I came back to clear my name and get justice for my daddy.”

  “What took you so long?” someone muttered.

  That was when Tildy jumped into the fray. “That’s enough!” she said loudly. “I know more about every family on Rebel Ridge than they know about themselves, and I can state with some assurance that there’s not a one among you who’s pure enough to cast the first stone. If there’s one thing I hate its gossip and innuendo. This man here—the one you’re pointing fingers at and thinking you know all there is to know about—has been through something few of us will know on this side of heaven. Earlier this year my nephew died and was brought back to life by nothing short of a miracle. He came back to Rebel Ridge because his daddy came to him in spirit and told him to go home. There has been no justice for my brother’s murder, and his daddy’s spirit is not at rest. Do you hear what I’m saying? The next time one of you comes knocking on my door wanting some healing, you better hope I haven’t heard that you were saying bad things about Lincoln, because I’ll send you packing, no matter what your misery.”

  Lincoln put his arm around his aunt. She was so mad she was trembling.

  “Are you all right, Aunt Tildy?”

  “Of course I’m all right. My belly’s full of good food and I’m ready to go home.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said softly.

  The diner was as quiet as the local bar on a Sunday morning as they walked out, leaving the discord behind them. They drove from the parking lot and headed home.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lincoln said.

  Tildy snorted beneath her breath. “I’m not. I had a wonderful dinner with you, and that little bit of huff and puff did not ruin a bit of it. But I am full as a tick and ready for a nap.”

  He smiled. “If you nod off in the truck, I’ll wake you when we get home.”

  She sighed. “Pinch me if I snore.”

  He laughed. “I know a wildcat when I see one. My daddy raised me smarter than that.”

  She laughed, and the sound filled th
e cab all the way to Linc’s heart.

  * * *

  It was midafternoon, and the sun was hidden by the cloud cover blowing in by the time Linc drove up to Meg’s house and parked. Honey was on the porch barking as he got out.

  “Hey, girl, you know it’s just me,” he said, and the long-legged pup came hobbling toward him with her tail between her legs. He squatted down and cupped her muzzle as he scratched at a spot behind her ear. “Hi, baby...hi, pretty girl. What’s Meg doing? Huh?”

  Meg guessed it was Linc when she heard Honey bark, and she came out to welcome him. But when she saw him on his knees in the yard playing with the dog, her heart melted. In her eyes, he was so beautiful. She ached at the thought of loving and being loved by this man for the rest of her life.

  A gust of cold air suddenly shifted her focus and she called out, “Hey, you two!”

  Linc looked up. Meg was standing in the doorway smiling. The blue jeans she was wearing accentuated her long, lean body, and when he stood up and headed for the house he had the strongest urge to take them off her.

  “Afternoon, Meg,” he said as he stepped up onto the porch.

  “Hi, you,” she said, and shut the door behind him.

  As Linc began taking off his coat and Stetson, he noticed her sweater was the same green color as her eyes. He hung the hat on the back of a rocking chair and dumped his coat on the seat. His voice deepened as he wrapped his arms around her, intending to just give her a quick hug.

  “You are a beautiful woman, Meg Lewis.” Moments later he buried his face against the curve of her neck. “Oh man, you smell good. What are you wearing?”

  The feeling of déjà vu was bittersweet. Being held in Lincoln’s arms made her ache. The only thing going through her mind was, what was she waiting for? Then she realized he was talking to her, and she stuttered some kind of response that she hoped made sense.