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The Education of Madeline

Page 11

by Beth Williamson


  He forced her to look at him. The naked agony in her beautiful dark eyes undid him. A sob worked its way up his throat, and he wrapped her in his arms. She was stiff and un-yielding.

  “Please, Maddie. I want to make this right.”

  “You told them.” She hissed.

  “Told them what?”

  “Told them about us. How else would Jackson know you’d been in my bed?” She pushed away from him, and he stumbled into the wall.

  “I didn’t tell them anything. Why do you think they beat me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you weren’t moving fast enough for them. Fuck her faster, Teague. Get rid of the old bitch!”

  She turned to flee, and he grabbed her arm. She fought against him, but, even injured, he hung on to her until she stopped struggling. He pulled her back against his chest and waited. It started as small hiccups but turned into gut-wrenching sobs. He held on to her and murmured soothing words in her ear.

  Teague had no idea how long they stood there before her storm was over. She sniffled and tried to wipe her tears with her hand.

  “We’ll stop them, Maddie.”

  She shook her head. “I think it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think the plans are already in place, and they started at the bank.”

  Her dark eyes were full of pain and misery. Most of which he had put there. He had failed miserably for Claire and Christopher. He vowed right then to make it right for Madeline. Even if it killed him.

  Madeline wept until she couldn’t weep anymore. Her mind and body were numb, but her heart, oh, her cursed heart was howling like a coyote at a full moon. Howling in pain and misery.

  “Who did this?” she asked.

  “The sheriff and that fool judge. There are a couple more, too, but I believe those two are the brains behind the plan.”

  Madeline stepped away from him and finally looked him in the eye. Then felt like crying all over again. Teague’s battered face was awash in as much pain as hers. She couldn’t trust it was real. What she really couldn’t trust was her heart. So she had to think with her head.

  “I don’t trust you anymore, Teague. I hope you understand why.”

  He nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

  “I want to find out what they’re planning. Are you willing to help me?”

  “Yes” gushed out of him before she even stopped speaking.

  “If this happens, whatever they’re planning, I will probably lose everything I have.”

  She had to face that. Obviously being an independent woman was more than a town full of men could take. A woman with money owning half the town was worse. Leaving her home behind would be hard, but it would be the people she helped who would suffer the most. She shuddered to think what would happen to Eppie. Fact is, most didn’t like Eppie. Her outspokenness was one of the very reasons Madeline loved her.

  Madeline wasn’t going to roll over and die. She was going to fight.

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “Maybe. If we feed them false information, perhaps it will come around on them.”

  He touched his split lip. “It might work.”

  “What kind of information were you supposed to find?”

  He sighed and shuffled back to the bed. “Evidence of you squandering money, using it for improper stuff, hording cash here at your house, giving it away to people. Anything odd or eccentric, particularly about money.”

  “They want to prove me insane.” Madeline was getting angrier. “I am one of the sanest people in this town.”

  “That’s the truth. Plum Creek is full of crazies.”

  Madeline sat down next to him heavily. “You broke my heart, Teague.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Maddie. I can’t tell you how much.”

  She bit her lip to keep in any tears. No more crying. “Was it all part of the plan?”

  “What?”

  “The lessons,” she swallowed. “Was it part of the plan?”

  “Oh, Jesus, no.” He folded her in a hug and rocked back and forth. Madeline cautioned herself against trusting him again, although his arms felt like heaven. They felt so safe and warm.

  “I want to believe you, but…”

  “I understand. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am that I found that stupid horse.”

  “I’m not. Even if my world crashed down around me, the last two weeks were the most alive I have ever been in my life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” Madeline confessed.

  Teague kissed her forehead. “You’d best get back to the bank, Maddie. You don’t want to give them any more ammunition to shoot you with.”

  Madeline stood and left the carriage house without another word to Teague. She had to wash her face and try to look as if she hadn’t just had her heart broken and her life torn asunder.

  Madeline had to get ready for battle.

  Chapter Twelve

  Madeline used a cold rag on her eyes to bring the swelling down before heading back to the bank. She forced herself to smile and say hello to people, although all she could think of was that they hated her. They wanted her gone by any means necessary.

  Her heart wasn’t just broken from Teague’s part in this. It was also hurting from the town’s betrayal. A town she had lived in all her life, contributed to, where she had worked on Founder’s Day celebrations and attended Fourth of July picnics. She also helped those in need and did everything she could. It was all for naught.

  Madeline was going to be as vicious and grabbing as they were. No more free room and board, no more donations or extensions on loans. They would get what they gave to her. Nothing.

  She made it back to the bank about half an hour late. Mr. Cleeson was deep in discussion with Judge Martin, whose jowls were swinging madly as he spoke under his breath to the young clerk.

  That answered her suspicions about Mr. Cleeson immediately. Whatever was going on involved him. She couldn’t let him know she was aware of his perfidy. She pasted on a smile and walked over to his desk.

  “Good afternoon, Earl. What brings you to the bank today?”

  The judge looked a bit flustered and fiddled with the chain on his watch while his eyes darted from her face to Mr. Cleeson’s.

  “Just chatting with the young man here about this and that.”

  Madeline nodded. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  He held up one pudgy hand and shook his head. “Oh, no, I don’t need anything. Thank you for the offer, though. I need to get back to my office.”

  He tipped his hat to her and scuttled away like the insect he was. Madeline turned to Mr. Cleeson and kept the smile firmly in place. It was amazing what anger and fury could do to your self-control. In her case, it made it rock hard.

  “I am sorry I’m a little late. A minor problem at home. How did everything go while I was gone?” She slipped off her gloves and watched his reaction. His little eyes narrowed just a smidge, as if he were grinning inside. She’d like to knock that grin into next week.

  “Just fine, Miss Brewster. No problems at all.”

  “That’s good. Thank you, Mr. Cleeson.” She turned to walk back to her desk. “Oh, I gave Horace Bindle a one-week extension on his mortgage payment. Please be sure to record that in his record.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Madeline made a mental note to check Mr. Bindle’s record the next day to see if her suspicions were correct. She had a sinking feeling that all the transactions she requested recorded were never done. All the loans, extensions, and payments she handled were likely in her head.

  When she got to her desk, she took out paper and started writing down all she could remember, beginning with that morning and working her way back.

  After two hours, she had five sheets and approximately two months’ worth of information. There were definitely some holes, but luckily Madeline had an analytical mind, and her memory for numbers was astounding—likely the only reason her father allowed her to be involved
in the bank.

  The tellers had all gone home, and Mr. Cleeson was the only one left. He kept sneaking glances at her as she wrote, probably wondering what she was doing. She ignored him until he shuffled out the door at four o’clock. After he left, she took out more paper and made a copy of all her notes. She put the copy in an envelope and sealed it. The original went in her desk to see if it would disappear.

  She stared at the envelope and tried to decide if there was anyone in town she trusted enough to keep the envelope safe. The fact that she had to think about it just reinforced the fact that she was alone.

  Alone again. She had Eppie, but she was a friend and a stranger to the town.

  Candice Merriweather might be a good choice, but the crazy thing was, Madeline didn’t know if Candice was in on the plan, too. She had no choice but to send the envelope out of town…but, no, that wouldn’t work, either. No doubt someone watched the mail as well.

  Madeline stood, feeling paranoid and alone. There was one person who could help her feel better, and he had broken her heart. The sad fact was she didn’t care. She needed him.

  Taking the envelope in hand, she extinguished the gas lamps, locked up the bank, and then headed home.

  As she was passing the store, Candice came out and flagged her down. Madeline really didn’t want to talk to anyone, but she didn’t want to be rude. Besides, she needed to keep up the front of being a stupid old spinster who let a town bully her, take her money, and send her to some hospital in Denver.

  “Madeline! Oh, it’s so good to see you. Please come inside for a few minutes.”

  Madeline embraced the smaller woman briefly. Candice was a plump redhead with sparkling green eyes and apple cheeks. She never had a bad word for anyone, and most of the town respected and liked her.

  “Hello, Candice. Thanks for the pie—you know you don’t have to do that.”

  “Pshaw! Of course I do! Without you I wouldn’t even have this store anymore.”

  “I didn’t do that much.” Madeline was embarrassed each time she brought it up.

  The store was empty except for the two of them. Madeline had always loved her trips to the store as a child because her mother always let her get a peppermint stick. The store was stocked neatly with sundries, food stuffs, bolts of cloth, canned goods, and other things like books and farm tools. Candice catered to her customers and knew it was important to have on hand the goods they wanted.

  She brought Maddie to the back of the store to a small office and sat her down in the chair next to the desk. There were lots of papers on that small wooden desk, but they were all neatly stacked and looked to be in order.

  “Tell me how it’s going with this horse thief you brought into your house. You need to stop taking in strays.” She chuckled.

  Madeline shrugged. “He’s a good worker, very polite, and always does whatever I ask him to do. I don’t think he’s a horse thief, by the way. That is Jackson and the judge’s supposition, but the evidence doesn’t support it.”

  “You should have been a judge or an attorney. You even speak like one!”

  Madeline felt her cheeks redden. Candice couldn’t possibly have known she’d asked her father when she was fourteen if she could be an attorney, and he had laughed. He’d laughed like he’d never heard anything so funny in his life. She’d never brought it up again.

  “I have enough to do with all the businesses in town.”

  Candice nodded. “Very true. I don’t know how you manage so many when I struggle to manage just one.”

  “I have help, Candice. My attorney, Mr. Finley, is invaluable in that regard.”

  “He’s also single. I was wondering if perhaps you could introduce us at the next church social.”

  Madeline agreed but neglected to mention to Candice that she hadn’t gone to a church social in years. The reverend made it clear Eppie wasn’t welcome, so Madeline didn’t go.

  “Is he handsome?”

  “Who?”

  “Your horse thief!”

  Madeline sighed. “He’s not a horse thief, Candice. Yes, he is handsome and very big, too. I’m sure you must have seen him in town. I hear tell he was at the saloon last night.”

  Candice tapped her cheek with one finger as if thinking. “I don’t believe I’ve seen him. I wasn’t at the saloon, though. What does he look like?”

  “Tall, dark hair, blue eyes. About the same height as Mr. Hansen, but a bit broader.”

  Candice’s green eyes widened. “He’s a big man, then. Are you sure you’re safe?”

  Madeline smiled. “Oh, I’m safe. He wouldn’t ever hurt me. Mr. O’Neal is a gentleman. Although I think he likes to eavesdrop.” Here was the information she wanted to give to see if it came back around full circle to her through Teague.

  “Eavesdrop?”

  “Mmmm. I caught him a few times. I told him to stop doing it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it worked or not. I guess he’s just very nosy.”

  “That’s odd for a man.”

  “Yes, well, he is an unusual man.”

  After a bit more chatter, Madeline finally excused herself and left the store. The jingle of the bell scraped on her raw nerves as she turned to say good-bye to Candice. She could see Jackson out of the corner of her eye across the street watching her. She ignored the sorry bastard and headed home.

  Madeline found Teague waiting for her on the front porch again. Tears pricked her eyes as her emotions rolled around inside her, and she started shaking. How did he know she needed him?

  He must have spotted something on her face or in her eyes because he immediately hopped up out of the porch swing with a groan and met her on the stairs. Without a word, he led her inside to her mother’s sitting room, sat on the sofa, and pulled her onto his lap.

  He held her tightly until she stopped shaking. She touched his bruised face and thanked God he was there.

  “You made it through the first afternoon.”

  “I don’t know who to trust, Teague. I feel like the whole town is watching me, making notes on everything I do or say. I even thought my friend Candice was part of it.”

  Teague’s big hand stroked up and down her back. “What did you decide to do?”

  Madeline sat up and slid off his lap. She took a deep breath and launched into the first stage of her plan.

  “I told her I caught you eavesdropping. What I want you to do is go to the sheriff with another piece of false information. If he tells you you’ve been spotted eavesdropping here, I’ll know Candice is a part of it.”

  He looked into her eyes and frowned. “And what do I tell him?”

  “Tell him I have a collection of clothes and jewelry that’s hidden in a closet in the house. Thousands of dollars’ worth.”

  One dark eyebrow rose. “Why?”

  “I have a feeling they are going to make money go missing from the bank and try to blame me. If you give them that information, they’ll have a claim to substantiate their false accusations.”

  Teague frowned. “Why would you want them to think you stole money from the bank?”

  “So I can catch them in their own trap.”

  Teague didn’t like it, but he couldn’t talk her out of it. Madeline was determined to smear herself in the town’s eyes. She had started with her friend Candice, and now with him. By the end of next week, she should be a thieving floozy with illegal slaves and an opium habit.

  With a grimace, he stepped out of the carriage house the following morning and walked into town to the sheriff’s office. Coming around the back door, he was surprised to find the sheriff buried in a woman. And that woman was not Matilda Webster. She was a young saloon girl with curly black hair, a bright yellow petticoat, and long legs. At least, that’s what he could see of her, he thought with a smirk.

  “Ahem.”

  The sheriff ignored him, so Teague leaned against the side of the building and waited. It was noisy, but it was over in a minute. With a final thrust, Webster finished up with his saloon girl. Wh
en she pulled her skirt down, Teague was disappointed to see that she was young. Too young to be whoring her way through life. She glanced at Teague with sad brown eyes, took the money from the sheriff, and scooted off down the alley.

  The sheriff fixed up his clothes and straightened his tie before turning to Teague. His hat hung on a hook beside the door. He slapped it on his head and leaned against the building beside Teague. His blue eyes were as sharp as any hunting knife.

  “You interrupt me for a reason?”

  “I came to tell you I got your message.”

  The sheriff’s mouth kicked up in one corner. “I can see that. You look like a bull ran over you. Twice.”

  Teague knew he was still bruised and swollen, but it was nothing compared to the wounds he had inflicted on his woman.

  Maddie.

  “When Miss Brewster was at the bank yesterday, I did some looking. That young girl was out picking in the garden, so I snuck inside.”

  Webster’s interest was piqued. He stood up straighter and leaned into Teague. His eyes were hungry, and he licked his lips.

  “What did you find?”

  “Now, let me start by saying I think Miss Brewster is a nice lady, and she’s been right kind to me.”

  “Who gives a fuck? Tell me what you found!” A bit of spittle flew from the sheriff’s mouth to land on his arm. It was all Teague could do not to scrape it off and fling it back at him.

  “A closet with things in it.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Teague screwed up his face like he was remembering. “Fancy stuff like sparkly dresses. Lots of those. Some of them looked like they even had real jewels in them. There was a box of jewelry, too. Some big diamonds, rubies, and some kind of stone that sparkled like rainbows.”

  “Opals?”

  “I guess. I don’t know what you call them.”

  Webster smiled broadly. “Anything else in that closet?”

  “Lots of papers. I didn’t know what they were. And shoes. High-heeled shoes that were all sparkly and had gewgaws on them, too.”

 

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