Truth Be Told

by Carol Cox

  With Clara’s help, it took less time than Amelia expected to have the floor cleared of loose papers. They walked back to the printing office, where Jimmy and his friends met them with expressions of dismay.

  “I don’t know if this is going to work, Miss Amelia.” Jimmy spoke in a defeated tone. “It’s going to take nigh onto forever to get all these pieces sorted out.”

  Amelia looked at the array of type spread before them on the counter, then back at the multitude of pieces still strewn across the floor. “I see what you mean.” She took a breath and squared her shoulders. “Do as much as you can tonight, boys. Homer and I will keep on sorting it out, and we’ll see how much can be salvaged. In the long run, the easiest solution will be to contact the type foundry in St. Louis and order a new set, but for now we’ll use whatever we can put together to set next week’s paper. It’s a hindrance, and the print might not be perfect, but we won’t let it shut us down.”

  Martin stepped away from the press and cleared his throat. “I think I’ve got it fixed. Why don’t you try it out?”

  Amelia put her foot on the treadle and pumped it several times, then pushed the flywheel forward with her left hand to keep the momentum going. A broad grin broke out on her face. “That’s perfect, Martin! Homer couldn’t have done a better job himself. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.” She turned a smile upon the rest of the group to include them in her gratitude.

  Martin grinned and nodded. Clara stepped forward and wrapped Amelia in a quick hug. “We were glad to help. We’d best be on our way now. It’s time these boys were getting home.”

  Amelia walked them to the door and locked it behind them. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. “You sent encouragement just when I needed it . . . and healed a friendship at the same time. What a gift!”

  She made her way back to her office to tackle the stacks of papers. Working her way through each pile, she sorted them back into the appropriate folders and replaced them in the file cabinets.

  As she slid a file drawer shut, she heard the alley door open and footsteps approaching down the hallway.

  A frown puckered her brow. She and Homer were the only ones who had a key. Had he recovered so quickly? She stepped out into the hallway and saw Ben walking toward her, nudging Homer ahead of him.

  When Ben met her eyes, he shook his head. “He was just starting to come around when I got there. It took a while before he was able to make it over here. I had to give him time to clean up, and then I poured nearly a whole pot of coffee down him.”

  Homer looked pale and appeared rather shaken. He kept his gaze from meeting hers directly, and when he spoke, his tone was so low she had to strain to hear him. “Ben told me what happened.” Looking around the room, he added, “Looks like you managed to get it all put back together without me.”

  “I had help. The Gilbreths stopped by and brought Jimmy and a couple of his friends. We’ll have to order more type, but apart from that, we’re in good shape.”

  “I should have been here. Maybe I could have stopped it from happening.” His shoulders drooped, and he hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

  Amelia’s anger ebbed away in the face of her old friend’s misery. Homer was like family—as dear to her as if he were an actual relative. Yes, she had been hurt by his drinking, but she had hurt him first, maybe even driven him to it by her attitude.

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. You did everything I asked you to, even when I snapped at you. It was wrong of me to heap all that responsibility on you. And I’m truly sorry for the way I spoke to you. You did nothing to deserve that.”

  Homer shuffled his feet and stared at a point across the room. “It isn’t only what I did yesterday. It’s the . . . condition I was in this afternoon.”

  He lowered his head for a moment. When he raised it again, she could see a trace of moisture pooling in his eyes. “When I met your dad, I was sunk about as low as a man can go. Seems like I was always hiding in a bottle. But he looked past all that and treated me like a friend. That was when he told me about the Lord.”

  A gentle smile curved his lips. “He showed me passages in his Bible, and the more I watched the kind of life he led, the more I wanted to have that for myself. And it worked—for the most part.”

  Ben stepped up beside him and laid his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “That’s what the gospel can do. It makes us hungry for the Lord.”

  Homer hung his head again. “You know I’ve made a few slips from time to time over the years, but nothing like what I was doing back then.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and his voice grew husky. “I don’t know why it’s gotten so much worse since your dad has been gone. Maybe you’ve noticed?”

  Amelia nodded. “I have . . . and I’ve been concerned for you.”

  “This isn’t something I want to do,” he continued. “I’ve tried to stop and told myself to just walk away from it. But then things get busy around here, and the pressure starts building up, and there I go again. I can’t seem to stop, no matter how hard I try.”

  Amelia saw the pain in his eyes, and her throat constricted.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and swiped at his eyes. “Your father was one of the godliest men I’ve ever known, and I don’t want to dishonor his memory this way. I know he’d be ashamed if he could see the way I’ve been acting.”

  Amelia wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. “My father considered you his dearest friend. It would grieve him to know how you’re struggling.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Mr. Crenshaw, I may be speaking out of turn, but it sounds to me like you may have been trusting Mr. Wagner to keep you on the straight and narrow instead of the Lord.”

  Homer spun around and glared at him, then his jaw went slack and his eyes widened. He leaned back against the wall, as if seeking support. “Andrew used to tell me a man can’t get into heaven riding on another man’s coattails. I trusted the Lord for my salvation, but I never thought I might be using Andrew as my conscience.”

  Ben’s eyes shone with compassion as he gripped the other man’s shoulder. “We need each other, no doubt about that. The Bible makes it clear that we’re supposed to encourage one another, but no person can keep you from giving in to temptation. God is the only one who can do that.”

  Homer nodded, slowly at first, then with more conviction. “You’re right, and I’m going to have to take some time to straighten things out with Him.” He drew a long, shaky sigh and ran his fingers through his wispy hair. “I just wish I’d never taken that first drink in the beginning. I wouldn’t be in this position now if I hadn’t given in back then.”

  He swallowed hard, and his eyes misted over again as he turned back to Ben. “I don’t suppose you know what it’s like to make one wrong choice that changes your whole life.”

  To Amelia’s surprise, Ben’s face clouded, and his green eyes took on a wistful expression. “Actually, I do,” he said. He paused and looked from Homer to Amelia and back again, as if deciding whether to go on.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “Back when I was in college, God placed a call on my life. Some men would have been thrilled, but I was scared to death. When I looked around at the pastors I knew, all I saw were stodgy men leading lifeless congregations. I couldn’t stand the thought of spending my life that way and becoming like them. So I ran.”

  Amelia’s lips formed an O. Homer tucked his thumbs in his waistband and leaned forward, listening intently.

  “I didn’t share God’s call with anyone. I didn’t want anybody forcing me into something I didn’t want to do. After I graduated, I tried a few jobs, but none of them truly satisfied me.” He gave a short laugh. “And to be honest, I wasn’t particularly good at any of them. I had no idea which way to turn next . . . until Owen Merrick visited my father and offered me a job with Great Western.

  “It seemed like a grand opportunity to be a part of building the West. I saw it as a
way to do good and convinced myself I could minister that way as well as I could from behind a pulpit. So I jumped at the chance and came out here to Arizona.”

  The muscles along his jaw worked as he turned to face Homer. “I didn’t crawl into a bottle, but turning my back on God’s plan like that was just as bad. And it certainly didn’t work out the way I’d hoped. I haven’t had a moment of real peace since I ran away.”

  Fighting back tears of her own, Amelia stepped beside him and took his hand in hers. “But there’s always a way back, Ben. For all of us.” Her throat tightened. Hadn’t she just been given a second chance by Clara and Martin . . . and Homer, too?

  Ben gave her a grateful smile. He tightened his fingers around hers and didn’t let go.

  Homer used his handkerchief to swipe his face again and shoved it back in his pocket. “Thank you both. You’ve given me a lot to think about—and a lot to hope for.” He squared his shoulders, looking more like his usual self. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go out for a while. Some of that fresh evening air ought to be just the thing to help clear up this old head of mine. And I might just stop by the church and see if Pastor Edmonds is around. He and I have a lot to talk about.”

  As he walked out the front door, Jimmy darted past him and charged inside. He pounded across the floor, his face alight with excitement. “Miss Amelia, I think I’m onto a story.”

  “Not now, Jimmy.” Amelia pressed her free hand to her forehead. This day had already given her too much to think about. She simply didn’t have the energy to deal with Jimmy’s boundless enthusiasm right now.

  Seeing the boy’s crestfallen look, she had a change of heart. Hadn’t she already hurt enough people over the past couple of days? She couldn’t bear to add Jimmy to that list. With a sigh, she walked over to her young newsboy and bent down to put herself on his eye level. “All right, tell me about it.”

  His recovery was immediate. A wide grin split his face, and he bounced up and down like an eager puppy. “There’s some strangers in town.”

  Amelia’s lips twitched. “That’s hardly a major story, Jimmy. Granite Springs is growing, and new people come to town all the time. That’s why I check by the depot every week to see who has arrived.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Jimmy continued bouncing, undaunted by her statement. “But not people like these. They look like bad guys, really mean.”

  Amelia stood and leaned back against the counter. She winked at Ben, remembering some of Jimmy’s “story leads” from the past. “Mean like Freddie Thompson the time he gave Pete Roland a bloody nose on the schoolyard, or mean like Mr. Olsen when he chased you and some of your buddies out of his hayloft?”

  Jimmy shook his head with an impatient frown. “No, these look like a bunch of toughs. And they’re not kids, Miss Amelia, they’re grown-ups. Come on and look.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her across the floor to the front window, then pointed across the street in the direction of the corner cigar store.

  Amelia followed his pointing finger. Her stomach clenched when she saw three men, all strangers to her, loitering in front of the shop. None of them had the look of typical Westerners. They reminded her of men she had seen in Denver, hanging around the train yards. One was heavyset, with broad shoulders. The second had a crooked nose that skewed off in an odd direction. The third was smaller than the others, with a narrow face that reminded her of a weasel’s. She felt a sense of relief when Ben joined them at the window.

  Trying to stifle the flutter of panic their appearance raised within her, she turned to Jimmy with what she hoped would look like a calm smile. “They are strangers, I’ll grant you that. And they do look a little rough. But I’m not sure there’s a story in it.” She kept her voice light and confident, trying to convince herself as much as the boy.

  Jimmy was not so easily persuaded. “But what are they doing, just hanging around the corner like that? They aren’t doing anything, they aren’t talking to anybody, and they keep looking over this way. See?” He jabbed his finger toward the window again. “One of them is looking over here right now.”

  Amelia stepped back with an involuntary gasp when the heavyset man looked straight toward the Gazette building. She let out a shaky laugh when she realized the sun’s reflection on the glass would keep him from seeing her. She was as bad as Jimmy, letting her imagination run away with her.

  Or was she? She glanced over her shoulder at the printing office and took a step closer to Ben. Someone had been in her building earlier, someone strong enough and malicious enough to turn the place upside down. These men looked like they would fit that bill quite nicely.

  But why would total strangers target her paper? She could think of no reason . . . unless they had been sent by someone at Great Western. She gripped Ben’s arm. “Do you recognize them?”

  When she met his green gaze, his worried expression told her his thoughts had been traveling along similar lines. “I’ve never seen them before. From the way they’re just hanging about, it almost seems like they’re waiting for someone to come out and confront them.”

  He started to pull away, his lips set in a firm line. “Maybe I should accommodate them. I’d like to find out what they’re doing here.”

  “Don’t even think about it!” Amelia clutched his arm with both hands and held on tight. A flurry of thoughts whirled through her mind. There were three of the men, and only one of Ben. If that trio was responsible for the damage to the printing office, she didn’t want to think what they could do to one lone man. “That may be the very reason they’re out there now, waiting for you or Homer to come out and take them on. If there’s an altercation, they could always claim you provoked a fight.”

  When he hesitated, her breath caught in her throat, and she tightened her grip. “Please don’t do it, Ben. There has to be another way.” She felt his arm tense under her fingers, and then he settled back and nodded.

  “The best idea would be to let the law take care of it . . . if we had any to call upon in town.”

  Amelia nodded, her frustration mounting. Like many frontier communities, Granite Springs depended on the county sheriff rather than a town marshal to enforce the laws. But the sheriff’s office was in Prescott, some twelve miles away.

  Ben glanced at the clock. “The telegraph office is closed for the evening. I could go roust out the operator, but the sheriff isn’t going to send anyone riding out this way tonight. It would be dark long before they got here.”

  He looked at the men across the street again. “Unless they rode in on horses—which isn’t likely, from the looks of them—they won’t be able to leave town before the train pulls out tomorrow. I’ll send a wire first thing in the morning.”

  Amelia studied his face. “If you think that’s the best thing, I guess it will have to do.”

  A furrow creased his forehead. “I don’t like the idea of you being here all alone. Maybe Homer could sleep in the storeroom tonight. It would ease my mind considerably.”

  “Mine too,” she admitted.

  Jimmy turned away from the window, his face a mask of disappointment. “You mean you’re not going to do anything about them?”

  “Not tonight.” Amelia stepped away from Ben and stooped down in front of the boy. “But we will tomorrow, I promise.”

  His lower lip jutted out. “I thought a reporter was always supposed to follow a story.”

  “That’s right. But a good reporter has to decide the best time to go after it. It’s important to know when to take action and when to wait.”

  Jimmy cocked his head to one side while he absorbed her words. Then he broke out in a grin. “So you’re saying there really is a story here?”

  “I think there may be.” Amelia straightened and ruffled his hair. “You did a fine job, letting us know about this. Now you’d better go home. It’s going to be getting dark soon, and I don’t want your mother to worry.” When the youngster started for the front door, she caught hold of his sleeve. “I think you’d better go out the
back way this evening.”

  When Jimmy screwed up his face and seemed ready to protest, Ben stepped in. “She’s right. If these fellows are up to something, we don’t want to let them know we’re on to them, right?”

  The boy’s eyes lit up, and he nodded. “Okay, I get it. I’ll slip out quiet as a mouse.”

  The three of them walked back to the alley door. After unlocking it, Amelia peered outside before she let Jimmy go past. “It looks like everything is clear,” she told him. “You head straight home, now. Don’t even think about going out where those men are.” She exchanged a quick glance with Ben and added, “And don’t spread this around among your friends, all right? This is something we have to keep quiet.”

  Jimmy puffed out his chest. “Sure thing, Miss Amelia. You can count on me.”

  Chapter 26

  Amelia watched Jimmy scamper down the alley. Not until she saw him turn safely onto Second Street did she close and lock the door. When she turned around, Ben stood before her with a warmth in his eyes that sent a flush creeping up her neck. Her heart began to beat more quickly.

  “I’m glad you came back,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” His slow smile sent her heart into an even more rapid pace. She glanced away a moment so she could refocus. “I looked for you yesterday, but I didn’t see you anywhere around town. Or today, either, when I was out trying to gather news.”

  “I was gone yesterday, trying to track down some information. As for today, I went in early this morning to compare some things I’ve found with other items in the files.”

  Amelia looked at him more closely, noticing for the first time the weariness etched around the corners of his eyes. As much as she wanted to go over her questions with him right now, the kinder thing to do would be to wait until tomorrow. She forced a smile to mask her disappointment. “Maybe you’d better be getting home, yourself. Like we told Jimmy, it’s getting late, and you have to be at work again in the morning.”