by DiAnn Mills
“Yes, sir.” Jenny pressed her lips to keep calm. Her gaze swept across the sheriff’s small office. Although tidy, it smelled a bit like her chamber pot in the mornings. Must have been the occupant locked up in the back. Smelled like a whole gang of them.
“No need to be nervous, Jenny. This information is just between you and me.” Ben coughed. The sound seemed to come from his boots.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course. Just a little tickle in my throat.” He turned his head and coughed again. “Back to business here. Other than the man having a temper, did she make mention where all of this happened?”
“Only Cleveland and San Francisco.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“He shot and killed a man in a card game on board a boat called the River Queen.” Jenny took in a breath. “I understand he did the same thing here. Since I learned he hurt my sister, I’m a little afraid for myself and Ellen, given that Jessica stole money from him.”
“I’m sure Ellen has already told Frank.”
“Oh, no. I read that part in the journal. Ellen isn’t aware of the stolen money.”
Ben leaned back in his chair. “I’ll go to work on this. With your information, it shouldn’t take long before we have a few answers. Did your sister’s journal mention any other names that he used?”
“No. How soon can you arrest him?”
“I can’t unless he’s broken the law.”
Indignation rose up in her. “Are you saying he could continue to frighten Ellen and me, and there’s nothing you can do?”
Ben offered a smile that she assumed he meant as reassuring. “As long as I’m sheriff, no woman in Kahlerville will ever be afraid. I have no problem escorting him out of town if he even bends the law.”
She nodded. Relief flowed warm through her veins. “Good. I wonder . . . “
“What are you thinking?”
“Should I confront him with what I know? Tell him I have no idea where Jessica hid the money?” She hesitated while a memory danced across her mind. “I just remembered something. One night at the boardinghouse I awoke to a horrible smell—a skunk. When I arose from my bed to shut the window, I heard Mr. Turner—or whatever his name is—speaking harshly to another man. He wanted to know about the finances at Martha’s Place and if she came into any money after Jessica died.”
Ben leaned forward. “What was the response?”
“The man claimed to know nothing.”
“Did the man have a name?”
“I didn’t hear it spoken.”
Ben made more notes. He glanced up and studied her. “Do you understand what this means?”
“I think so. Aubrey Turner is an evil man.”
“In case you have any doubts, Turner must believe you or Ellen has his money.”
“But we don’t.”
“If he was convinced of that, he wouldn’t be wasting his time here in Kahlerville.”
Jenny’s heart hammered against her chest. “What can I do?”
“Be very careful. Is there somewhere else you can live besides the boardinghouse? I don’t feel comfortable with you staying there in the same establishment as him.”
She shook her head. “The boardinghouse is fine. I have a lock on my door, and the men stay in a different section.”
“Do you trust me to make a few inquiries regarding your safety?”
“What do you mean? Find me another place to live? I refuse to be a burden to anyone. I’ll stay at the boardinghouse until I decide to return to Cleveland.”
“I advise you not to attempt the journey back until I can get to the bottom of this mess with Turner.”
“All right. But I won’t live in fear.” A surge of courage swept through her. Or perhaps it was a wave of pride from the knowledge of the revolver in her reticule. “I won’t be confined to my room like a frightened child.”
“I understand your sentiments. Just be wary of where you are and what is going on around you. One more thing. Grant needs to hear all of what we’ve discussed today.”
“Why?”
Ben laid the pen on his desk and folded his thin hands. “Two reasons: One, he has a concern for you, and two, he is raising Jessica’s daughter.”
“Surely Mr. Turner wouldn’t harm an innocent child.”
“Frankly, Jenny, if he followed you from Cleveland and committed the other crimes we suspect, do you think he’d hesitate to use a child to obtain his money?”
Jenny left Ben’s office with a slightly dizzy sensation. She had insisted there was no need for an escort, but now she wished someone supported her. The conversation had been overwhelming, and the future looked bleak as long as Aubrey Turner stayed in town. The startling revelation about the potential danger to her, Ellen, and precious little Rebecca left her shaken. And what about all the Andrews family and the Reverend and Mrs. Rainer? And Miss Mimi? For a moment she believed her knees would not hold her legs.
I can be a strong woman. I won’t cower in fear.
She must tell Grant about the journal. If he disliked her before, he certainly would when he learned Rebecca might be in danger. She hated to tell him what she’d learned, not because she wanted to keep the truth from him, but because the news would sadden him. Dear Grant. All he ever wanted was to raise his daughter in peace. Then Jenny came along and disrupted his world.
And he had disrupted hers. How sad to love a man she’d hurt so badly. She’d known him but five weeks and realized her heart was smitten, and she’d been friends with Oscar for two years. Never had she felt any of the insurmountable feelings with Oscar that she experienced with Dr. Grant Andrews. Unfortunately, he would never give her a single thought with all the trouble she’d brought his way.
She peered about as though Turner might try to speak with her on the street—or demand what belonged to him. Where was his money? Jessica had indicated the clues to the whereabouts were within the pages of her journal. But Jenny had read it from cover to cover, and nothing was revealed.
The perplexing notions about Jessica and her world were more than she could bear, and with this knowledge came a pounding headache. Guilt for all the trouble she’d caused crept over her. If she had not promised Ben to tell Grant this instant about the journal, she’d walk back to her room.
*****
Grant spied Ben and Frank in the corner of the churchyard after Sunday morning services. He wanted to talk to both of them together about Turner. The man had become a burr in his saddle. No one stood with the two brothers. Most likely, they were discussing the same matters weighing heavily on him.
“I need to talk to Ben and Frank,” he said to Mimi. “Would you keep an eye on Rebecca?” He smiled at Jenny, regretting the tug at his heart and the anger in his soul for all that her coming to Kahlerville had caused. And to think he’d just finished worshiping God.
“We’ll chat with the other ladies until you’re ready.” Mimi reached for Rebecca’s hand. “Jenny needs to get better acquainted with the other fine women in this town.”
Grant offered another token smile and made his way toward the Kahler brothers. The conversation he’d shared yesterday with Jenny made him a little dour. He feared for her safety and expressed it, but deep inside was a heavy dose of resentment.
The closer he walked toward Ben and Frank, the more he realized the two weren’t happy. He turned around to give them their privacy. In his present mood, he almost welcomed a good argument.
“Grant, come on back. This affects you, too,” Ben said.
So they were discussing Turner. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to get involved with feuding brothers. He and Morgan had seen their share of disagreements, but those were years ago. He retraced his steps and was suddenly thankful for the slight breeze under the oak tree. Frank had a line across his forehead deep enough to plant potatoes. Ben looked pale. His flesh seemed to be falling from his body. This was no summer cold. Grant prayed his suspicions of a chronic lung condition would prove false.
“I’m ready to run Turner and Martha DeMott out of town,” Frank said.
“My, brother, you sure are wearing your Christian hat this morning,” Ben said.
Frank stuck his finger into Ben’s face. “It’s not your wife who was threatened, and it’s not your lumberyard looking at a match.”
Ben’s face softened. “You’re right. It’s not. But arguing about what to do isn’t going to make the problem disappear. I should have some answers about Turner this week or the next. I sent wires to lawmen, U.S. marshals, and the Pinkertons. Besides, I think Martha is harmless.”
“As in Turner put her up to it?” Frank said.
“I think so. She was real polite when I confronted her. Said she was angry about the rumor but wouldn’t tell me where she heard it.” Ben focused on Grant. “What’s your opinion about all of this?”
As in I should have put Jenny on a train back East weeks ago? “I think if Turner is wanted somewhere, we’re all better off.”
Frank slowly nodded. “As mad as I am, I have to agree. Can’t figure out for my life why he’s so bent on learning more about Jessica. The woman’s been dead almost three years. Makes me wonder if he thinks she’s still alive.”
Grant knew what kept Turner in town, but he wasn’t about to tell Frank. That was Ben’s job.
Ben scratched his chin, then coughed.
“What are you not telling me?” Frank said. “And when are you going to see Grant about that cough?”
Ben finished up his spell. “In answer to your first question, Jessica stole money from Turner, if he’s the same man mentioned in Jessica’s journal—a Robert Jacobs. The answer to your second question is none of your business.”
Frank’s eyes widened then hardened. “Suit yourself. Are you thinking he’s after Ellen and Jenny for the money?” He paused. “Of course he is. Why else did he follow Jenny here from Cleveland?” He slammed his fist into his palm. “This means my Ellen and—” He slid an alarmed look Grant’s way. “Jenny could be in danger.”
“I just learned about this, too,” Grant said. “And don’t forget my daughter.”
None of them said anything for several long moments.
“Let me work with the law,” Ben finally said. “We’re jumping to conclusions when the answer may be simple.”
“Where’s the man’s money? If Jessica stole it, then we’ll return it.” Frank crammed his hands inside his pockets.
“We don’t know,” Grant said. “No one has any idea where it might be or how much is involved. To the best of my knowledge, Ellen doesn’t have any idea about Jessica taking his money.”
“I’m sure of it,” Frank said. “She would have told me. As it is, she isn’t sleeping well. The situation is worrying her because she’s frettin’ over Jenny. But I need to tell her this so she’s more careful.”
“I’d like to see Jenny living somewhere besides the boardinghouse, but she won’t hear of it.” Grant glanced back at a group of laughing children. Rebecca called out to him, and he waved. Jenny stood beside her with Mimi. His favorite ladies.
“I tried, too, but she refused,” Ben said. “I thought you might have better luck.”
“Are you kidding? Most of the time we’re fussing about something.”
“Ellen and I started out that way,” Frank said. “Took me a long time to see the reason she riled me so was because I loved her.”
Grant’s face reddened. “Don’t think that’s the case here.” Then he remembered how Casey and Morgan had battled until they admitted their love. “We’re talking about another matter here today.”
“I sure hope the Lord is listening this morning,” Ben said. “Leave it to an Andrews to make my job a little more difficult.”
Grant grinned. “Hey, that’s what we do best.” But his thoughts raced back twelve years to when Casey was being chased by a band of outlaws and to the resulting blood bath on Morgan’s ranch. One tragedy in a family was enough.
Chapter 23
Jenny waved at the sleek black surrey approaching her. Casey had invited her to spend a day at the Andrews ranch, and she had been thrilled with the prospect of time away from the boardinghouse. Jenny had been ready long before the arranged meeting with the expectation of developing one more friend. As the surrey slowed to a halt, she admired the brass mountings and the fine horse pulling it. Beneath a green and black fringed canopy, Casey sat with Daniel perched beside her.
“I’m your driver,” Casey said. “And I have a helper.”
“I see you do,” Jenny said. “I’m amazed that you manage this all by yourself.” She offered her hand to the small boy. “How do you do, Mr. Daniel?”
He turned shyly and hid his round face in Casey’s skirt. All she could see of him was a mass of auburn curls.
“Daniel, do be polite,” his mother said.
He peeked around with one eye and mumbled a good morning.
“As you can see, Mr. Daniel tends to be a bit shy. He’s not at all like his cousin Rebecca,” Casey said. “Both of them are the same age, but she is months ahead of him. Climb on up, Jenny. I’ve been looking forward to spending the day with you for a long time.”
Jenny tugged at her skirt and clumsily attempted to board the surrey. When her foot refused to secure a firm hold, Casey offered a hand.
“Goodness, being short can be a problem,” Jenny said and seated herself beside Daniel. She leaned his way. “Your mama rescued me.”
The child wordlessly clung to his mother, and she soon realized this was the little boy’s typical behavior.
“Oh my, I do apologize,” Casey said. “I have nightmares of him being thirty years old and still tugging at my skirts.”
The two shared a laugh, but Daniel didn’t budge or squeak a word.
“What do you have planned for us?” Jenny said as the surrey rolled out of town.
“I’m not quite sure. Last week I put up peas and sweet corn, and yesterday I made pickles, so we’re free to do as we like. It’s much too hot a day to spend in the kitchen. We’ll just have a wonderful time doing whatever we please. Perhaps a tour of the ranch would be in order?”
“Splendid. I know absolutely nothing about ranch life, so this will be something I can relate to my students.”
“Chad and Lark could give you a wealth of information specific to children their age, but Chad is spending the day riding fence with a few of our hands, and Lark is visiting her grandparents.”
Disappointment needled her, but Jenny didn’t show it. Chad and Lark displayed excellent manners, and their inquisitive minds were a delight. At times she missed her students back home.
Casey laughed. “They’ll be back for dinner. Do you plan to journey to Ohio before the start of the school year?”
“Oh, yes. Sometime around the first of September.” Jenny didn’t want to delve deeper into her life in Cleveland, especially when her future there looked uncertain.
“I’d imagine your parents miss you. I certainly fuss over my children, even when they are fussing at each other.” Casey gave her a sweet smile.
Jenny hesitated, not quite sure how to respond. “I’m sure my parents would like me home.” After tasting independence, she had no desire to step back under the domination of her parents. Last night’s efforts at writing them had resulted in one crumpled sheet of paper after another. How could she ever make them understand her feelings without sounding rebellious and unappreciative of all they’d done? Hopefully after spending the day with Casey, the right words would flow from her heart and her pen.
The beauty of the thick green countryside was breathtaking. Each little bend in the road was dotted with pastel wildflowers, and a grove of trees offered a breezy serenity of its own. Jenny wished she knew how to paint so she could capture the color and vibrancy on canvas and take it back to Cleveland for the long months ahead.
Casey pointed to a small hill ahead of them. “This marks the beginning of our ranch. You can see cattle and horses grazing in the distance.”
“The Double H after Morgan’s father, Hayden. Jocelyn used to refer to their homestead as Hayden’s Heaven. Later they shortened the name to the Double H for branding purposes.”
“What happened to Mr. Andrews?”
“He died of a rattlesnake bite just as the ranch began to flourish. Jocelyn took over the hundreds of acres, determined to make a success of their dream. She bought cattle and horses, built and mended fences, acquired more land, and did whatever else she deemed necessary. All the while raising their children alone.”
“How courageous. So Mrs. Rainer originally ran this ranch. This is definitely a story I’ll want to share in my classroom. You must be proud of her legacy.”
“The hardest part of her marrying the reverend was turning over all the ranch’s management to Morgan and me.” She laughed. “Now she says it was easier to maintain the Double H than to keep up with the reverend’s schedule.”
Jenny could tell Casey loved every inch of the land. She gave a lengthy tour in the surrey, since Jenny had never ridden a horse. She introduced Jenny to all the ranch hands and proudly displayed a breed of cattle that Jocelyn and Grant had developed years before. Beautiful dark brown horses lifted their heads when the surrey passed. She laughed at the spring colts frolicking about the green pastures as though they were the owners. They visited barns and rode along a narrow river winding through their property. Genuinely impressed, Jenny asked questions and discovered Casey displayed excellent business skills, far more than any woman she’d ever met.
At noon both women assisted the cook—a rather hard-looking fellow. They filled plates of roast venison, potatoes, and carrots for the ranch hands. Afterward, the two women and Daniel ate their meal under a huge elm tree. Soon the small boy crawled up into his mother’s lap and slept while she stroked his cheek. The tender scene reminded Jenny of the first time she’d viewed Rebecca and Grant.
“You have such a beautiful home,” Jenny said. “So quiet and peaceful. I think Jocelyn gave it a rightful name.”