Tomorrow's Garden

by Amanda Cabot

  “Clay!” he called as the horseman approached. Though it was difficult to be sure in this light, it appeared that the horse was Clay’s gray. But instead of waving, the rider hesitated a second, then turned around and began to gallop south. Whoever the rider was, he was not Clay. Lawrence’s pulse accelerated as his instincts took over, telling him something was wrong, that these were not the actions of an innocent man. Snip needed no urging. A second later, they were in pursuit. The horseman had no chance. Only very few could outrun Snip, and the fugitive was not one of them.

  As he pulled alongside the gray stallion, Lawrence reached over and grabbed the reins, and as he did, he stared at the rider, astonished. Though he had considered the possibility that the suspicious-acting man might be someone from Ladreville, he was not prepared for his identity.

  “Jake! What you are you doing out at this time of the night?” It was difficult to imagine an innocent explanation.

  “Nothing. Just taking a ride.”

  It was a blatant lie. The way Jake refused to meet his eyes told Lawrence that, as did the fact that only a person with something to hide would have fled. “Does Harriet know you’re out?”

  “She doesn’t need to know everything I do.”

  It was as Lawrence had surmised. Jake had been up to no good. “You want to tell me where you were?”

  “Why should I?” His tone was defiant, definitely not the voice of someone taking a harmless midnight ride.

  Lawrence kept his own voice even as he said, “You know the answer to that, Jake. I’m the sheriff. It’s my job to know what’s going on in my town.”

  “Nothing’s going on.”

  Another lie, although perhaps not a total lie. While it was possible that nothing was going on at this particular moment, Lawrence’s instincts told him that something undesirable had indeed happened and that Jake was responsible. He gave the boy a long look before he said, “If that’s true, you won’t mind paying a visit to the Friedrich farm, will you?” Knowing Jake’s dislike of Karl, that was the logical place he would have gone tonight if he were bent on mischief.

  “They’re asleep.”

  Lawrence nodded as his suspicions were confirmed. “So you were there. That’s the only way you’d know that.”

  “I didn’t say I was there.” Jake’s voice rose in what years of experience had taught Lawrence was another sign of guilt. “At this time of night, most folks are asleep.”

  And that, Lawrence knew, was why Jake had chosen this time to be out. Had it not been for Zach’s announcement, Lawrence himself would have been asleep, unaware of Jake’s presence on this side of the river. “You’re not asleep,” he pointed out, “and that concerns me. I want to check on the Friedrichs.”

  “No!” Jake grabbed the reins and tried to wrest them from Lawrence’s grip, grunting when he failed. The boy was as guilty as sin.

  “What did you do?” He wouldn’t ask why, not now. For the moment what was important was learning what had transpired at the Friedrich farm.

  Jake stared into the distance, refusing to meet Lawrence’s gaze. “Nothing more than he deserved.”

  A wave of anger rushed through Lawrence. Jake sounded like Thomas Bruckner and the vast majority of culprits he had apprehended. Whatever happened, it was never their fault. Their victims had brought it on themselves, or so the miscreants wanted to believe. Lawrence had thought Jake was different, that he had learned a lesson as he’d worked to pay for the damage he’d inflicted on Karl’s buggy. But Lawrence had been wrong. Jake had learned nothing.

  When they reached the Friedrich farm, instead of the darkness Jake had predicted, light shone from the barn. A second later, Karl emerged. “You! I knew it was you. When I heard a horse, I came out, but I was too late to catch you.” His face contorted with fury, Karl hauled Jake from the horse and began to pummel him. “You miserable cur!” he shouted as his fist connected with Jake’s nose. “You’ve hurt me for the last time!”

  Lawrence leapt from Snip and grabbed Karl, dragging him from the boy. “That’s enough, Karl. Remember, I’m the sheriff.”

  “And this ruffian destroyed my barn. Look.” Through the open door, Lawrence could see the damage Jake had wrought. Bales of hay were coated with muck; the tack was slit beyond repair; only the animals were unharmed.

  “Look at what he did! He’s got to pay.” Lawrence was surprised that Karl’s shouts hadn’t wakened his parents. As it was, the horses inside the barn moved restively, and Jake’s mount pawed the ground.

  “He will pay.” Lawrence pulled the handcuffs from his belt and fastened them around Jake’s wrists, not bothering to be gentle. Jake didn’t deserve gentleness or kindness. He deserved . . . Lawrence wasn’t certain what he deserved. What the boy had done was criminal. He’d destroyed Karl’s property. But, more than that, he had destroyed Lawrence’s faith in him. He’d thought Jake had changed, but he hadn’t. The feeling of betrayal that surged through him made Lawrence want to pummel Jake the way Karl had. He’d tried to help, and this was how he was repaid. Bile rose to Lawrence’s throat as he considered the possibility that Jake might wind up like Bruckner, a man without a conscience who took what he thought should be his. How would that affect Harriet? That was one thought Lawrence did not want to entertain.

  “What are you going to do?” Jake asked when Lawrence had hoisted him back onto the horse and they’d left the Friedrich farm. His tone, Lawrence noted, was less defiant. Unfortunately, it was too late.

  “What I should have done the first time you damaged Herr Friedrich’s property: put you in jail. We’ll see what the judge has to say when he comes through.”

  “But that won’t be for months.” There was no doubt about it. Jake was scared. Good. Maybe this time he would learn a lesson.

  His own anger undiminished, Lawrence glared at the boy. “You should have thought of that before you wrecked the Friedrichs’ barn.”

  Harriet bolted upright as the sound was repeated, banishing sleep. Why was someone knocking on the door? She fumbled on the table, searching for her spectacles. Once they were in place, she thrust her feet into slippers, reached for her dressing gown, then padded down the stairs.

  The knocking continued, and with each rap, Harriet’s heart beat faster. Whoever it was, he wasn’t going to leave, and that could only mean bad news. With hands that shook so much she could barely strike a match, Harriet lit a lamp before she cracked the door open. Light might not change the news, but at least she could see the messenger.

  “Lawrence!” Her heart skipped a beat at his foreboding expression. “What’s wrong? Did Thomas escape?” That was the only reason she could imagine Lawrence coming to her house in the middle of the night. If Thomas was loose, he would want to protect her.

  Lawrence shook his head as he entered the house. “It’s your brother.” He closed the door and stood in the hallway, his eyes dark with pain. “Jake’s in jail.”

  “Nonsense. Jake’s upstairs asleep.”

  “I’m afraid not.” Lawrence extended his hand as if he wanted to touch her, then withdrew it. “Jake snuck out without your knowing it. There’s no easy way to tell you this, Harriet. Your brother destroyed everything in Karl Friedrich’s barn. It’s at least a hundred dollars of damage.”

  As her legs threatened to buckle, Harriet leaned back against the wall, trying to understand what Lawrence was saying. The words made sense, and yet she couldn’t believe them. “It can’t be true.” But Lawrence’s presence said it was. “I thought Jake was past that sort of behavior.”

  “So did I, yet the fact remains that he did it. He didn’t even show any remorse.”

  Harriet closed her eyes, wishing this were a nightmare but knowing it wasn’t. No matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise, Lawrence was standing in her house, telling her things she didn’t want to hear. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.” They could move again, though Harriet wasn’t certain that would accomplish anything. She
had believed that taking Jake away from Fortune and Chet’s influence would solve the problem. Obviously it had not. “I just don’t know what to do.”

  Lawrence shook his head slowly. “There’s nothing for you to do. Jake has to face the consequences of breaking the law. He’s in jail, and he’s going to remain there for a good long time.”

  As Lawrence’s words registered, Harriet gripped the door frame to keep her legs from collapsing. This was worse than Fortune. There she had had to deal with rumor, but now Jake was in jail like a common criminal. There had been no lasting consequences when Jake had destroyed Karl’s buggy, but this was different. She doubted the townspeople would be as forgiving, when it was clear that Jake had not reformed. “You don’t mean that.” To her chagrin, Harriet’s voice sounded like a croak.

  “I most certainly do.”

  Fear swirled through her at the thought of her brother incarcerated and all that would mean. Unlike Fortune, where the Kirk name served as some protection, the family would be exposed to outright ridicule here. Given the severity of the crime, the townspeople might even decide Harriet was unfit to teach their children. Her contract stipulated that she must conduct herself with dignity and propriety at all times. Some towns, she knew, extended that condition to the teacher’s entire family.

  Harriet bit her lip, trying not to cry out. “Everyone in town will know. We’ll never live it down.” She looked up at Lawrence, remembering the warmth she had seen in his eyes, the concern she had heard in his voice. He cared for her; surely he did, and surely he would listen to her now. “Please, Lawrence, don’t leave him there.”

  A flicker of something—could it be remorse?—appeared in his eyes, but Lawrence shook his head. “Whether I jail Jake or not, everyone will know, just as they know what he did to Karl’s buggy. This is worse. You don’t think Karl will remain silent, do you?”

  Recalling Karl’s temper and his demands for a severe punishment when Jake destroyed the buggy seats, Harriet started to shake her head, but then she remembered the past few days. “He might, if . . .” She let her words trail off. There was no point in voicing them, not unless she had to. Perhaps Lawrence would reconsider. Perhaps he would realize that jailing Jake would accomplish nothing and that it might hurt the family she had struggled to keep together.

  “If what? If you promised to marry Karl?” Lawrence’s lip curled in obvious distaste. “I know you love your family, but that’s going too far. Jake needs to learn a lesson.”

  “I wasn’t planning to marry Karl, only to ask him—as a friend—to spare us all. Public humiliation is not the answer.”

  “And covering it up will only encourage Jake’s behavior. He has to be punished.”

  “But not in jail. That won’t solve anything.”

  “Then you tell me what will. Nothing else seems to be working.”

  Harriet sensed Lawrence’s frustration and suspected it was as great—perhaps greater—than hers. He had been the one who’d tried to help Jake by giving him constructive work to do. Lawrence had been reasonable then. Perhaps he would be reasonable now.

  “You don’t understand. If Jake remains in jail, you’ll be punishing all of us. Is that what you intend—for us to be pariahs?”

  Lawrence’s lips thinned with anger. “Of course not. You’re the one who doesn’t understand. You won’t be shunned because of what Jake has done.”

  “How do you know? You’ve never been in this situation.” She saw his back stiffen and his lips tighten. In that moment, though they bore no other physical resemblance, he reminded Harriet of Thomas the day she had refused his proposal of marriage. “I thought you were different, but I should have realized you were like the others. You’ve distanced yourself from your family for so long that you don’t know what it’s like to love someone. You’re heartless, Lawrence Wood. All you care about is the law, not people.”

  He recoiled as if she’d slapped him, and she saw his mouth move as if he were biting back an angry retort. When he spoke, Lawrence’s voice was calm but cold. “Believe what you want. The truth is, you’re so intent on controlling everything that you haven’t admitted you might not always be right.”

  Harriet felt the blood drain from her face. “There was no call for that.”

  “Yes, there was. You need to realize that you can’t do everything yourself. I thought you learned that when the school burned, but it seems that I was wrong.” Lawrence’s eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “I hate to say it, Harriet, but it looks as if you’re like Jake, and you just don’t learn. That won’t continue forever. Eventually you’re going to be forced to admit that you don’t have all the answers and that you need to rely on someone else.”

  He was like every man she’d met, turning the tables, trying to blame her for what was wrong. Harriet tipped her head up and glared at Lawrence. “If I did rely on someone else, it would most definitely not be you.” She shot the words back at him, then turned toward the door. “If you’re willing to destroy my family by keeping Jake in jail, then you’re not the person I thought you were. You’re not my friend, and you’re not welcome here.” Harriet opened the door. “Good-bye, Lawrence. I don’t want to see you again.”

  23

  “Where’s Jake?” Daniel looked around the breakfast table, clearly puzzled by the absence of both his brother and a place setting for him.

  This was the question Harriet had dreaded. After Lawrence had left, she had paced the floor, trying to make sense of all that had happened. When she’d failed miserably at that, she had prayed that God would soften Lawrence’s heart, that he’d send Jake home. That, too, had failed. There had been no lightning bolts, no prison doors opened in the middle of the night. Her brother remained in Ladreville’s one cell.

  “Jake did something bad, and he’s in jail.” By some miracle, Harriet’s voice did not break as she pronounced the words.

  “He’s behind bars?” Daniel appeared more intrigued than surprised.

  “Can we go see him?” Like his younger brother, Sam seemed to think this was an adventure. “I never saw anybody in jail.”

  “When’s he gonna come home?” It was Mary who asked the practical question.

  “I don’t know.” That had been one of the things Harriet had pondered during the sleepless night. “The judge will decide.”

  Mary’s face crumpled and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I miss Jake.”

  “Eat your eggs, sweetie.” Ruth gave Harriet a look that telegraphed her displeasure at not having been told earlier as she wrapped her arm around Mary’s shoulders. “We’ll visit him after breakfast.”

  Half an hour later the family made their way to the big stone building on Hochstrasse that served as the jail as well as Lawrence’s office and home. When they arrived, Harriet insisted that the others remain outside. She wanted a private word with Lawrence and then with Jake. Unfortunately, Ladreville’s sheriff was not there.

  “He just left,” Jake said, making Harriet wonder whether Lawrence had seen her approaching and did not want to meet her. So be it. She had told him she didn’t want to see him, and she meant it. But as she had lain awake, Harriet had realized that silence and avoidance might not be the best approach. She should talk to Lawrence again and convince him that he was wrong. But Lawrence, it seemed, did not want to listen to her. She would deal with Jake first.

  “Why did you do it?” Harriet tried not to cringe at the sight of her brother behind bars. He looked pitiful this morning, his face and hands unwashed, his hair in dire need of a brush, his clothing wrinkled from being slept in. And then there were the bruises. She could see the impression of a fist on one cheek, and his eye was starting to blacken. Harriet’s sympathy faded when Jake’s expression remained defiant.

  “I hate him.” Jake spat the words at her. “He’s a mean man. I don’t want you to marry him.”

  He was speaking of Karl. Of course, he was. Jake wasn’t privy to her dreams; he had no reason to consider Lawrence a potential suitor.<
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  “No one has asked me to marry him,” Harriet said shortly.

  “But Karl will. I know he will.” Jake pounded the thin bedroll. “I don’t want you to marry a man like him, and I don’t want him to be my father. He’s almost as bad as Thomas.”

  Was this the cause of all that destruction? “Jake, I’ve told you before that I’m not planning to marry, and even if I did, my husband would not be your father.” My husband. It was the first time she had voiced those words. How strange they sounded.

  “But he’d boss us all around. He already does that. He even bosses you, and I hate that.” Jake stood up and clenched the bars. “Promise me you won’t marry him.”

  Harriet’s anger at her brother began to recede as she realized that he had been trying to protect her. It was strange to realize that Jake was old enough to think he should take care of her. Perhaps this was Jake’s mistaken idea of what being the man of the family meant. Perhaps Lawrence was right when he’d said that her brother wanted to be accepted as an adult. Lawrence might be right about that, but he was wrong in believing that jailing Jake was the way to change his behavior. Surely he could turn the other cheek once more.

  Harriet frowned at Jake. “What you did was wrong. I won’t reward you by making any promises.”

  His upper lip quivering, as if he were trying to hold back tears, Jake shouted, “I hate you!”

  She had expected that. Harriet reached out to touch his hand, trying not to mind when he snatched his away. “You don’t hate me, Jake. You only think you do.”

  Harriet tried not to frown at the raindrops that spotted her spectacles. Though she knew that rain was essential—hadn’t she spent half an hour explaining its benefits to her pupils this afternoon?—she did not enjoy walking in it. Perhaps she should have gone directly home after school, but she wanted to visit Isabelle. An hour with her friend would boost her spirits. Harriet was counting on it.