A Perfect Dilemma

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A Perfect Dilemma Page 26

by Zoe Dawson


  My shoulders slumped a tiny bit as I tried hard to fight off facing reality. My daddy was never going to accept Brax, and by getting involved with him, I would tear my family apart. A family that had already endured the loss of one member. Why wasn’t it easy to walk away? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was it was hard, and caused such a terrible, enduring pain in me that I wasn’t sure it would ever go away.

  I looked at the box I’d gotten from Maizy. I was convinced now someone else had committed the robbery, killed those soldiers, and stolen the payroll. If I cleared the Outlaw name…what would happen then? Would my daddy change his mind? And, foolishly, the hope springing to life at the thought almost made me smile.

  Then I remembered the stupid ball I had to attend, and the hideous dress I had to wear. I turned into my driveway just as Verity pulled in behind me, and I saw Aubree in the passenger seat.

  I parked and got out, feeling terrible for shutting my friends out, but it was just so hard to talk about Brax.

  They got out of the car, both of them giving me their sternest chastising looks. I reached in and grabbed the box and faced them.

  “You, my friend, are being a butthead,” Verity said as she reached into her car and pulled out two boxes, a large one and a smaller one. Aubree was carrying a box I recognized. The one with the clippings.

  “You know we’re worried about you, but you shut us out,” Aubree said walking up and hugging me. She looked amazing. Glowing. And I realized it was what happiness looked like. Verity looked the same way, her dark brown eyes sparkling.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been so terrible. Come on in. I’ve got some time yet.” As we walked toward the front door, I heard a vehicle pull up, and I looked over my shoulder. The kid who delivered the flowers jumped out of his seat, waving as he went to the back of the van and pulled out a huge vase of crimson spider mums and yellow sunflowers. When he reached us, he said. “River Pearl Sutton?”

  “Yes, I’m River Pearl.”

  “These are for you. Could you sign?”

  I signed where he pointed and he took off. “Mums are my favorite.”

  “There’s a card,” Verity said.

  I handed the vase to Aubree and plucked the card off the plastic holder. My hands were trembling and my stomach in knots. I pulled the small card out. All it said was Mums for my Princess and sunflowers for her knave.

  I took an unsteady breath. Brax. I squeezed my eyes shut, that terrible ache intensifying right under my breastbone. All I could think about was how he’d looked today, sitting in his truck.

  Aubree took my arm and my eyes snapped open. “Come on. Let’s get you to your room.”

  They ushered me into the house, and my momma came into the foyer at the sound of the door. She looked at the flowers and her mouth tightened. Jake was coming down the stairs, and both Aubree and Verity glared at him. The tension in the house was churning the very air.

  “Hello, ladies…River,” he said, his eyes searched mine as he glanced at the flowers and back at me. Earl was standing at the windows up front, the nosy bastard. He’d seen the flowers delivered.

  Verity and Aubree mumbled hellos, but Jake was too focused on me to realize they hadn’t put much effort into it. He gave me a look full of sympathy and tenderness, brushing my arm as I passed. Aubree and Verity gave Earl a large berth as they passed him.

  “River, there’s not a whole lot of time.”

  “We have six hours, Momma. I’m visiting with my friends.” I left no room for argument. I needed them right now.

  Once the door closed behind me, Aubree set the vase on my dresser and Verity put the boxes at the end of my bed, then both of them hugged me again.

  “We’re so sorry you have to go through this. Reminds me of how hard my own time was with my parents,” Verity said.

  I nodded. She’d had the courage to tell everyone to go to hell and claim Boone, get her son back, and create a life with them. But our situations were a bit different. Her daddy hadn’t threatened to ruin Boone. It was the sole reason I wasn’t blowing off this stupid ball, getting in my car, and driving over to Braxton’s house to beg him to forgive me.

  “How are you holding up? Talk to us.”

  I told them about my daddy and his threat, but swore them to secrecy. Then I laid out all I had found out about Duel and the Colonel.

  “Want to help me go through these letters and clippings?”

  “It’s all so surreal. I’m having trouble adjusting to the idea that Duel Outlaw might be innocent.”

  “I can believe he was,” Aubree said. “Booker, Boone, and Brax are three examples of the Outlaw breed. It makes me question the whole Outlaw myth even more. They deserve to be exonerated. All the Outlaws.”

  “Yes, they do,” Verity said, opening the box and pulling out the papers. They had been preserved as carefully as Evie had treated the love letters.

  “These are from Amy to her momma regarding Duel’s death and his innocence.”

  “I’m sure they’re going to be heartbreaking,” Verity sighed.

  Aubree nodded. “Unfortunately, the letters aren’t enough.”

  “No, they’re not,” I said. “I need something concrete. Irrefutable.”

  They both nodded.

  “Let’s get to sleuthing. I always wanted to be Nancy Drew,” Verity said.

  “Okay, then, Nancy, here are some for you.”

  For the first time in a week I laughed along with them while we divided up the letters.

  “This is heartbreaking, Aubree said, listen to this: “I can’t get anyone to listen to me and my days stretch away into nothing but grief and hollowness without my Duel. He was such a good man and they never gave him a chance. They just murdered him. He would never have committed such a crime. Oh, Momma, I think I am going to die from this pain. The only thing that keeps me going is my boys…”

  Verity wiped away a tear and “And this is earlier right after it happened: “They hanged my husband, Momma. They might as well have killed me, too. I was dead inside, my heart, my whole heart has been ripped out. They said he killed men and stole gold. I’m so shocked, so broken over his loss. I know he would never have done this terrible crime. How could they have…oh God please come. I need you here…”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. She really believed in him, just like Brax’s momma believed in her husband. This is so sad: “I buried him today. My Duel. They finally let me have his body. Oh, what they did to him. I can barely bear the pain. I cleaned him up and the undertaker helped me prepare him. I buried him in his uniform and even as the hearse proceeded through town, people threw bottles and garbage and spit at us. But I held my head up high. I know my husband is innocent. No matter what they said. I know it in my heart where he will live forever.

  Hours later, all of us were trying to keep our sympathy under control while we read the last of Amy’s heartrending words. The pain of losing Duel had crushed her. We all had been wiping away tears while we read. I clearly remembered their original love story, and my heart broke for her, even though she was long dead. I could only hope she was reunited with him, wherever she was.

  Disappointment was strong as our eyes met. “There’s plenty in them how generous the Colonel was to her. How he helped her, but he couldn’t shield her from the townspeople’s wrath and their attacks on her children. No one questioned Duel’s guilt, no matter how much she kept at the sheriff and the judge.”

  “No, that’s disappointing.”

  We still have the clippings to go through.

  A sharp knock on the door had me gathering up the letters.

  “River,” my momma said and opened the door. “You are running out of time. Best to commence with your preparations.”

  Aubree and Verity finished assembling the letters, and Aubree set them gently into the box. “Sorry, River,” she whispered as she squeezed my arm. Verity hugged me, and they left.

  “Who sent those flowers?” my momma demanded after the front door closed.
r />   “Me,” Jake said, materializing in the doorway. My momma looked at him with a skeptical air, but I said nothing.

  He nodded at me, crowding my momma out and closing the door. Disheartened, I reached for the box of letters and it slipped out of my hands, hitting the box of clippings. The box slid off the edge of the bed before I could stop it. It hit the floor with a thump, the lid opening and the contents spilled out onto to the polished wood.

  With an exasperated sigh, I went over to retrieve them. My eyes snagged on one of the headlines and my breath suspended.

  Outlaw’s Mare Was at Scene of Crime!

  Something dark rolled over me, something very akin to dread. My eyes fastened on the print and flew over the words.

  “I shod that mare only three days ago. I know it belongs to Duel Outlaw, because when I was fitting the shoe, my tool slipped and made an indentation in the metal. When I went to the scene to assess clues to who could have committed this heinous act, I saw the same indentation in the mud. It could have only been made by one horse. Outlaw’s.”

  I couldn’t quite breathe. I felt completely and utterly sick to my stomach with the realization of who had actually robbed the payroll and murdered those guards.

  Colonel Beauregard Sutton.

  Oh, God. Oh, my God.

  I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe my ancestor, the man who had built Suttontowne, a decorated soldier, had betrayed everything for his own selfish ambitions. That not only he, but all the Suttons who came after him, had kept quiet about who was really responsible for the murders and theft.

  This cleared the Outlaws’ name.

  But it destroyed my family name.

  It was a terrible, awful, perfect dilemma.

  Suttontowne, the town that had persecuted the Outlaws for 153 years, was built on blood money.

  The irony would have been laughable if I wasn’t so overwhelmed and shocked to learn it was my family who had descended from a thief and a murderer.

  Duel Outlaw had loaned the Colonel his mare because they were friends, and I had no idea what I was going to do with the knowledge.

  Shit! The Colonel! The thought kept exploding in my head.

  I thought fleetingly of going to Braxton right now and chucking everything to tell him about the Colonel, but then decided to wait. I needed to wrap my mind around it, around the enormity of what I’d stumbled across, and exactly what I wanted to do about it.

  The rest of the article supported my realization. Several people said they saw Duel that day, in the store, at the time of the robbery.

  But those statements were discounted, because the sheriff, who doubled as the farrier, was one and the same and he shod one of Duel’s mares.

  Then, when the sheriff went out to the scene, he found the same mark in the ground. It led right back to Duel’s mare. The account in the clipping said people formed a lynch mob before the sheriff could stop them, and they hanged Duel immediately, right outside of town.

  It also explained why the gold had never been recovered. It hadn’t disappeared into thin air. Amy never spent any of the money and had, all her life, denied she had any knowledge of its whereabouts…because it was the Colonel who concealed his guilt in the crime.

  Duel Outlaw was innocent, and I had no idea what I was going to do with the knowledge. I had to tell Brax. I had to. I couldn’t keep this from him. But then I paused.

  There still was no real proof. Maybe I should search for concrete proof before I said anything to anyone. Would the town even believe me without proof?

  I got up and turned on the shower with a heavy heart. After drying off and going back into my bedroom, I spied the other boxes and, tucking the towel tighter around me, I ripped the paper off the larger box, and opened it.

  I gasped when I saw the same fabulous elegant white dress I had shown Brax only last week. The sleek fabric was supple against my hands, and as I picked it up out of the box, a very sexy strapless bra and lacy white panties with little bow ties on the sides fell out.

  I clutched the dress to me, a strangled sob escaping. For a moment I was completely overwhelmed. The hollow place haunting me since I walked out of Braxton’s kitchen was suddenly filled with him. My heart lifted with wonder and affection, and I hugged myself, and struggled through emotions which left me weak and shaky.

  What was I going to do?

  Not sure my legs would continue to carry me, I sat down on the bed, my vision blurring. I reached for the smaller box. When I pulled the wrapping off, my throat so tight I couldn’t even swallow, I found a shoebox. Opening the lid, the tears I’d been holding back slipped down my cheeks. Every Princess deserves a pair of glass slippers was written on a plain piece of white linen paper in black, flowing handwriting.

  And beneath the white paper was the most exquisite pair of white heels, with delicate lace uppers embellished with twinkling crystals, and two sparkling butterflies on each shoe, one on the very back at the top and the other on the instep.

  “Oh, God, Brax,” I whispered, and the walls I had tried to build against him crumbled into rubble. The thought of not seeing him again was too, too much. I buried my face in my hands, rocking back and forth.

  I could clear his name. Their name. But at what cost? How could I destroy my family in the process? Everything we had built came from tainted money. Our wealth was stained with not only the blood of those Confederate soldiers, but with Duel Outlaw’s blood as well.

  A warm hand slipped around my shoulders, and I looked up to see Jake’s pained expression. I turned into his arms and the sobs I’d been holding back broke free.

  “I’m sorry, River.”

  I nodded and wiped at my eyes. The words to tell him exactly what I had found out right on my lips. But, I didn’t know how he would react, and it was my secret to reveal or conceal. My decision to make.

  “River…”

  “Things are so complicated, Jake. Why do they have to be so complicated?”

  Jake rubbed at the bridge of his nose, looking mutinous. “We should be free—”

  I had the power to set them free, but what would this do to us? “You better go before Momma comes in here.”

  “Are you wearing the dress and shoes?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Good for you.”

  Fifteen minutes later I was dressed. I walked over to my jewelry box and opened the lid. Smiling naughtily, I pulled out the tiara. My momma expected me to wear it. But I didn’t wear it for her. I wore it for Braxton.

  Walking out of my room in my amazing heels, I paused at the top of the stairs. My brother saw me first, and he simply stopped talking to my daddy, who looked as handsome in his tux as my momma did in her exquisite blue dress. As one they turned to look up at me. My momma’s eyes snapped with her disapproval, but my daddy smiled.

  “You look like my pretty little Princess,” he said.

  “That dress is a bit understated,” she sniffed.

  “River can pull off simple and turn it into elegant,” Jake said forcefully, giving my momma a quelling look, cutting off one of the carefully worded chastisements she so often felt compelled to make. Especially now, when my whole life, my family, and the Outlaws’, seemed to be hanging by a 153 year old secret.

  I experienced a sharp, painful swell of gratitude. Now I knew how much he understood, nothing warred in me. What I had left was complete love for my brother. I lifted my chin and descended the stairs like I owned the place. Still, my stomach twisted with a sickening sensation, guilt settling heavy on me because I hadn’t invited Braxton to attend this party. He deserved the invitation, even though I was sure he would have declined. I didn’t realize until now how much I needed him to be there.

  My cousin stood in the library door, shadows behind him, his eyes glittering. A chill shivered down my spine at the menace in every line of his body. Then he stepped into the light. I’m sure there were plenty of women who would find him attractive. But sometimes beauty was truly only skin deep.

  �
�Should we go?” I asked, and it took every ounce of the discipline I had spent my life mastering to keep my voice steady.

  I tried to shake the sickening sensation, but it hung on while we rode to the country club. No matter how hard I tried to put it aside, it stayed with me, leaving every nerve exposed. My interlude with Brax had been much more than I bargained for. My daddy’s ultimatum made everything worse. My momma’s obvious disapproval added a nerve-grating strain. And…I was descended from a murderer, thief, coward and liar.

  Once we arrived I was inundated with requests to dance. I passed the time, absorbing their compliments and smiling as though I was enjoying myself, all the while wishing it was already over.

  When it was time to eat, I didn’t know how I was going to sit through the meal, pretending nothing was wrong while my world was turning upside down and inside out.

  I was staring at my plate when I suddenly felt a kick under the table. Jake was looking at me hard. I suddenly realized the music was silent and whispers stormed through the room. I turned my head, and the sight of him set off a swarm of butterflies in my belly. The only man who could do that to me.

  He stood in the doorway, and, even with his hands relaxed at his sides, he looked like a boxer. Every woman in the place caught her breath. Brax was wearing a beautifully tailored black tux, the same exact label as my daddy wore, but that’s where the similarity ended. The coat was black, not white, and did not have tails. It was a Southern cutaway, matched with black pants with a satin stripe down the sides. The shirt was stark white, cufflinks in the cuffs, and the shirt was buttoned all the way up to his strong throat, but the bow tie…it was hanging loose and draped his neck in such a sexy, rebellious way, I wanted to squeeze him.

  Close to the edge. It was the first thing that jumped into my mind. But there was more to it. A hard male force radiated from him; it was in his every move, in his posture, how he carried his head, the glint of steel in his eyes. I had never felt his strength and size the way I did in this moment. His hair was combed back off his handsome face, although a lock had slipped free to caresses his forehead.

  I stared at him, a strange flurry of awareness rushing through me when I identified the tone of his whole bearing: It was a silent warning that no one, absolutely no one, had better challenge him.

 

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