by Kari Trumbo
“I had a dream last night, Lenora. A dream that I could just fly away if the Indians came to get me. I stuck my head out that window and I felt free for the first time in years. I’ve had to pretend I was someone I’m not for so long. Then, the Indian started chasing me when we got to California. I was not made for this land, Lenora. I need to go home.”
Her mother had climbed out the window to fly. No! She’d thought her mother selfish for her fears all this time, but she couldn’t lose her mother. Not like this. Lenora clutched her arm and held it tightly. Men couldn’t fly, but they could fall. From where they sat, Lenora could hear the voices of the people below her, yelling, but she couldn’t make out what. She couldn’t see them from where her mother had them perched by a gable and she wouldn’t lean over as she had when Victor had called to her.
“Surely you know that you can’t fly. This roof provides no freedom for you. Not really. Let’s go back in. Perhaps Father can take you to see a doctor in Culloma. That would be nice wouldn’t it?” Lenora gently rubbed her mother’s arm, and prayed that someone would come soon to help her.
“Please, let’s get one of the nice men to bring a ladder and we can climb down. I’ll make some supper and we can just sit at the table.”
A wooden ladder bounced against the roof, then creaked with each step as someone climbed up. Mother grabbed hold of Lenora’s arm and sucked in a deep breath.
“He’s coming to get me again. We’ve got to go. Lenora, save yourself!”
Mother yanked her to her feet and Lenora slipped on the sharp pitch. Lenora screamed and tried to free herself from her mother’s grasp without slipping off the edge of the roof, but her feet wouldn’t find purchase on the slippery wood shingles. Victor appeared at her side and her mother screamed, “Don’t let him get me!”
Mother’s arms flailed for a few moments and Lenora tried to break free of Victor’s grasp to grab hold of her, but Mother fell backward off the roof. Victor tucked her head into his chest, but even the beating of his heart wasn’t loud enough to drown out the thud as her mother hit the ground.
The narrow ledge at the edge of the roof and his own arms around her waist were all that kept Lenora from joining her mother in a heap on the ground. When he thought about what could’ve happened … he had to stop himself from shaking. The roof had been built as expected of a standard two-story house. But instead of the roof having overhanging eaves, they’d built it with flat channels along the edges to direct the rain water away from the house. Mr. Farnsworth had wanted to make sure a building could be built right next to his own.
Victor carefully slid her along the flat channel to the ladder then helped Lenora find her footing. He held the ladder steady as she slowly climbed down. Pati waited at the bottom and led her off as soon as her feet touched the ground. He’d wanted to see Lenora, hold her, make sure she wouldn’t fall apart. She’d been shaking as he’d held her. Never had he done anything in his life that mattered until that moment. He’d never stepped into a situation and helped anyone.
He swung onto the ladder and came down.
Mr. Farnsworth met him at the bottom and grasped his shoulder tightly.
“You heard her before she fell, Jones. She said he was coming to get her.”
He shook Victor and shoved him at the sheriff. “How often did you sneak into my home to scare my wife? You always managed to come to the office when I wasn’t there. I thought you came just to see Lenora, you must have found a way to watch and go in to sew terror and discord in my home. Pete, I want him charged with murder.”
“Murder?” Pete narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “You saw as well as I did that he didn’t go anywhere near her. Even if he didn’t follow orders.” The sheriff glared at him.
Mr. Farnsworth’s face flushed with deep color. “My wife is dead, and I’ll make sure that justice is served.” His hand shook as he pointed at Victor.
He hadn’t done anything, he’d only grabbed hold of Lenora because in her fright, Mrs. Farnsworth would’ve taken Lenora over the edge, too. He couldn’t let that happen. He’d gone up there to help both women down, but Mrs. Farnsworth’s eyes had been wide, frightened. But not as frightened as Lenora. She’d been terrified. Mrs. Farnsworth had known just what the decision to jump meant, and she’d done it anyway.
Pete leaned in close. “The man is bereaved and distraught. Let’s go over to the mine office and talk about how to handle this.”
Victor could only nod. He didn’t care what Mr. Farnsworth thought of him, only his daughter. Would she hold it against him, too? Did she, even now, think that his interference had caused Mrs. Farnsworth’s death?
They got away from the dispersing crowd of people, though there was a small group helping Mr. Farnsworth. They would probably take poor Mrs. Farnsworth to Blessings Chapel. Blessings didn’t have any other place to keep the dead before burial.
Pete led Victor toward the mines and the small building that had once been mine security. Now it was used to house prisoners, whenever the small town was unlucky enough to have them. Victor was empty inside. He’d wanted to protect Lenora, help her. Instead, he’d frightened her mother and then hadn’t been able to follow her when Pati took her. Even now he had no idea where she had been taken.
“Your wife will take good care of Lenora?” He couldn’t stop from casting a quick glance back at the seamstress shack, not far from the small building where they were headed.
Pete frowned and kept his pace to the office. He’d already said more in one day than Victor had heard him speak in the weeks since they’d arrived. He shoved the door open and Victor followed, collapsing in the chair opposite of Pete’s desk.
Pete rested his elbows on the scarred wood top and stared at Victor for a moment, rubbing a long, pale scar just over his left ear…or what was left of his left ear. Victor had heard the stories of the quiet, brooding mine security officer turned sheriff who’d been the victim of an ambush in the Mexican War. Victor could only respect a man who continued to serve after such devastation.
“You want to tell me why you climbed that ladder when I told you to keep your feet planted on the ground? I don’t talk to myself, Abernathy.”
He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d wanted to. Lenora was up there and could’ve fallen. He hadn’t been able to hear much of anything beyond the rushing in his ears. The horrible noise of Mrs. Farnsworth’s fall could have easily been his beloved, and though he’d known, up until now, that he wanted Lenora completely, he hadn’t realized how attached he was. All he could think about was that he’d never held her, never told her that she’d overtaken his heart. And even though it wasn’t worth anything, he’d gladly give her everything in him, if she’d take it. Somehow, Lenora could make him worth something; just being with her would make him a better man.
“I couldn’t stand to see Lenora up there. I had to do something. What if she’d have fallen? A woman up there, walking on that narrow ledge in heeled boots…” Words tumbled from his lips to avoid saying what he hoped was obvious to the sheriff, because he couldn’t admit it to the sheriff first, not when Lenora had yet to hear it from him.
Pete took a minute to think on what he’d said, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes dark and penetrating. “What did Mrs. Farnsworth mean when she said, ‘he’s coming to get me again?’ Have you ever been in the Farnsworth home? Mr. Farnsworth leveled a pretty serious accusation against you, and I can’t just ignore it.”
Victor ran his hand through his hair, now wishing he’d found someone to trim it. It had been another thing, like so many others in California, that seemed unnecessary now that he was here.
“I’ve only ever been in their house when I was helping to build it. I don’t know who or what Mrs. Farnsworth saw, but it wasn’t me.”
He’d swear on a Bible if he had to. If he’d ever had a mind to visit the upstairs of the land office, it would be to visit Lenora, not her mother. But then, he hadn’t seen Mrs. Farnsworth at all since the family had moved in.
He scratched his chin and met Pete’s obsidian eyes. “Don’t you find it a bit odd that Mrs. Farnsworth never came outside? I don’t mean to be indelicate, it’s obviously a serious situation, but she doesn’t shop, doesn’t come out to get water, doesn’t even come out to use the privy. Most of the town only knew she was Edward’s wife because she climbed out of his window. Why would a woman stay holed up in her room for weeks?”
Pete was a man of few words and he seemed to be almost chewing on his thoughts, letting the facts sift through his head before he said anything. Maybe he knew more about Mrs. Farnsworth than he was letting on, but Victor doubted it. The only ones who could answer those questions would be too bereaved to give them.
Victor cleared his throat and continued. “Also, there was someone who could get by the front door and Mr. Farnsworth easily, someone who didn’t much like his mother or father. And, he’s now gone. Geoff.”
Pete shook his head. “I don’t think Geoff is any kind of model citizen, but I don’t think he’d scare his own mother to death. I don’t know why Mrs. Farnsworth never came out, maybe she didn’t like the rain. It only just stopped. We can’t speculate what went on in that woman’s head.”
While it was true, Mrs. Farnsworth hadn’t liked the weather, there was more to it than that, and now that he was being accused of killing her, he wanted to know what that was. She hadn’t come out much on the ship, but the farther they’d gotten from San Francisco, the more eccentric Mrs. Farnsworth had become.
“Mind if I go talk to Lenora? I’d bet she could tell us everything we’d like to know.”
“I would mind.” Pete nodded and leaned back in his chair. “My wife is with her right now, and Pati’ll know just what Miss Farnsworth needs. And that isn’t to be asked a bunch of questions by the man who stands accused of killing her mother. I think you should wait here until everyone has cleared out of main street and then quietly make your way back to the livery. Stay up in your room for a few days. You can come to the funeral if you want to, but stay away from the Farnsworths, especially Edward. After all this has had a few days to settle, I’ll talk to the family and see what was going on. You didn’t chase her up on that roof, but she didn’t run to the edge until you went up there, so don’t plan to leave Blessings for a while.”
He hadn’t wanted to leave Blessings at all, not without Lenora, anyway. Blessings had not proved to be the easy wealth he’d hoped for, and his mother was still waiting for him to come home. If only he could know what was happening back in England, if he was even wanted. Perhaps his family had just moved on without him. How many years did he have to try before he just admitted defeat, that he wasn’t coming with the expected recompense, that he wasn’t coming home because he couldn’t face them after what he’d done?
“I’ll sit in my little hovel for a few days, Sheriff. But I did nothing. I swear it.”
Pete nodded and stood, his hands planted just above the twin Colts at his waist. “I don’t believe you did, either. But beliefs and proof are two different things.”
Chapter 15
Cort slid around the door to the little security office and moseyed over to the chair Pete had vacated about an hour before. Victor had yet to move. His life had taken a turn, and no matter how he tried to come up with a way out of the mess, he couldn’t. Cort was welcome, because when Victor couldn’t think of something, Cort had always filled in. When he’d been standing at the bottom of that ladder, waiting for Pete to go check on the other side of the house, he’d been sure that he was making the right choice, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Cort slapped a deck of cards on the desk between them and leaned over as he shuffled it, staring at Victor. He could probably shuffle a deck in his sleep. He had an intense look about him that meant he had a lot on his mind. All the better to get answers.
“You and I both know that you weren’t over messing around in Farnsworth’s house. You were helping me build the livery for the past four days, we’ve got at least twenty men who will vouch for you. You haven’t been out of my sight long enough to do anything.”
That was true, but Mrs. Farnsworth was now gone. She wasn’t going to tell them which days she’d been talking about in her cryptic declaration that he’d been after her in her house.
“Mr. Farnsworth is just angry, and sore. I would be too if my wife had just died. You can’t take it personal or it makes you look guilty.”
The cards flapped loudly against the desk and, for once, the sound irritated him.
“And have you gone to find Miss Farnsworth and made sure that she isn’t sore?” Cort tilted his head and glared.
That was one thing he’d been hopping mad about. In fact, he’d taken the opportunity, in the empty room after the sheriff had left, to voice his opinion of being told to stay away from her. He hadn’t even taken it seriously when her father had said it. Who was the sheriff to ask so much of him?
“I haven’t yet, I’d planned to once I was sure she was done at Pati’s.”
“Our paint delivery should be in tomorrow. Are you going to be there to help me, or do I need to find a couple miners to do the job?”
Victor wanted to. The livery had been his idea and now that it was built, it was more and more something he could look on with pride.
“I’ll be there. When is Mosier due to come in?”
Cort slapped the deck on the desk so Victor could cut it, then dealt five cards to each of them.
“Winslet says he usually gets here round about midday. So, we should gather ladders and anything else we’ll need in the morning.”
Cort’s face was blank, as always. He was an excellent player, he’d yet to find Cort’s tell. Victor looked at his own hand and, like his life at the moment, it was full of nothing. He laid down two cards and waited for Cort to hand him replacements. Still nothing. Everything in him told him to follow the path he always had, fold and run when he couldn’t get what he wanted. Just like he’d done to his family.
“I’ll be ready. I was just cooling down in here. The sheriff gave me orders and you know how well I listen.”
Cort cackled as he laid down one card and drew one off the deck. They had no money to bet and he and Cort never wagered against each other anyway. But that didn’t matter; his heart wasn’t in the game anymore.
“You listen about as well as a rock, which begs the question, why are you still here? Miss Lenora left the company of the sheriff’s wife a half hour ago, searched around a bit, then went home. I asked her if she was looking for you, but she wouldn’t answer me. Wouldn’t speak at all.”
His heart clenched painfully in his chest. Would she look for him, or had he destroyed everything by ignoring the sheriff and climbing that ladder? Only Lenora could answer that question. Though the bravado he’d always felt told him to ignore the sheriff, his heart couldn’t forget what had happened the last time. Maybe the sheriff knew more than he gave him credit for. Would both women be alive if he’d left well-enough alone?
“She is a stubborn one. If she was looking for me, I wouldn’t still be waiting for her.”
Cort laid down his hand in a practiced arc, a full house. “And are you still waiting for her?”
He glanced down at his own hand. Nothing, not even a pair.
“I will for as long as it takes.”
“If that’s true, then listen to the sheriff, as much as it will chafe you raw. Wait until she comes to you.”
How he didn’t want to hear that. He wanted to run to her even that instant.
“She might need me. She lost her mother today.” Dare he hope that she would accept his comfort?
“She’s being fed a lie that it had to do with you. She’ll need to work that over in her head, convince herself that you wouldn’t do what you’re being accused of. Remember, she was up on that roof, too. She knows in her head what you did, and didn’t, do.”
Victor understood as much, but his heart wanted to defend himself. “Wouldn’t you want to defend your name?”
> Cort swiped up all the cards and gave him a look fit to kill him. “If I’d ever been given the chance to prove why I’d done what I done, then I would have. I know it wasn’t right to take that horse, but it wasn’t right to steal what was mine, either.”
Living under a lie was Cort’s whole life. He would never be free of it, unless he was caught. Even then, he’d have to pray that he got a fair trial, and Cort wasn’t a praying man.
“I hope that you get the chance to clear your name someday, friend. Unfortunately, I can’t make that happen for you right now. Murder is a little more serious than horse thievery.”
Cort hung his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. When I heard that Freedman Gale, Coleman’s son-in-law, was killed while chasing me…well, that’s been eating at me something fierce.”
Cort couldn’t leave, he couldn’t go back. It was a sure death sentence.
“You aren’t thinking of going back, facing the charges, are you? Going back won’t bring that man back to life, won’t bring back the horse. And it sure won’t make Coleman sorry he stole those winnings from you.”
“It was just money, Victor. I wanted the winnings so bad, I didn’t even think about what it might cost him. Now that I’m here, and I’ve stopped running and searching behind every tree, I’ve had time to think about it. If I ever can get a plot of my own, or can make enough, I may try to make it right. He lost that hand fair and square, but that doesn’t mean I had the right to take his horse.”
If Cort could go back and make his past right, could Victor do the same? Could he go home and make all his poor choices right? Maybe he’d feel like a man good enough for Lenora if he did. His parents may never let him leave again, and living without Lenora wasn’t a life worth living.
“We are quite the pair, aren’t we, Cort? Two men who’ve made some wrong turns in our lives. I’m ready to give up. I just can’t see the right path anymore.”