The Cowboy Comes Home

by Linda Ford

  Madge crossed her arms over her chest and sighed heavily. “I will, of course, support whatever decision you make.”

  Sally smiled for the first time all afternoon. “Even if it kills you to do so. Right?”

  Madge chuckled, then suddenly sobered. “It’s not me who will have to live with the decision. It’s you. So please—” She flung about to face Sally. “Please, dear little sister, make sure it’s the right one.”

  “I’m trying to.”

  Madge looked about ready to say more, then pressed her lips together and wrapped her arms about Sally.

  Sally leaned her head against Madge’s firm shoulder. Not everyone could be as strong and sure of things as Madge. People like Sally simply had to push ahead, trusting God to guide them even when they couldn’t see where their path led.

  She must listen to her head more than her heart, and like Linc said, trust God to take care of her.

  Next morning, Sally’s resolve had deepened. She knew Abe was the man God had put in her life to provide for her needy faith. As she made her way to the Finley home, she wondered how she would endure Linc’s presence as he finished the barn. Seeing him, knowing how he felt would make it difficult to stick to her decision. She hated to hurt anyone. But breakfast was over and the kitchen cleaned, and still he had not appeared. She stared toward the Shaw backyard, the new corral fences allowing her a good view.

  Was it just two days ago that she and Linc had shared such a wonderful day? The party at the orphanage. The visit to his father. The forbidden kiss in the barn. Her insides flooded with guilty heat. She must never think of it again.

  But like rebellious children, her thoughts returned to reliving events of that afternoon. They’d fed and petted the ponies.

  The ponies. Of course. He’d taken them back today.

  It was as if the sun broke through the clouds in her mind. She glanced at the sky. Strange, no clouds interrupted the blue. She sang one of Linc’s silly songs as she carried the dishwater to the garden.

  Robbie crouched in his fort. “Where’s Linc?”

  “Taking the ponies back.”

  “Oh.” The answer seemed to satisfy him, and he returned to his play.

  Sally hurried to work once more on Tuesday. Life was good. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the possibility of seeing Linc today. So what if the thought cheered her unreasonably? What was wrong with being friends with the man? After all, Abe didn’t seem to object. But then, he didn’t know about the kiss.

  No reason he should.

  But the morning passed without Linc showing up. She didn’t get so much as a glimpse of him, even though she spent a great deal of time staring at the yard across the alley.

  Robbie stomped to the doorway and glowered at her. “Where is he?”

  “Maybe his father is too sick to leave.”

  “It’s your fault. You’re going to marry my father, so Linc won’t come anymore.”

  Sally had not let herself consider the idea, but it hovered at the edges of her brain. Had he left town? Was he avoiding her?

  She gave herself a mental shaking. Best she get used to the idea. Being Abe’s wife would make it impossible to continue as she was with Linc.

  No more kisses. But couldn’t they be friends?

  Only if Linc welcomed it.

  And if she kept her thoughts in proper submission.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Linc had prayed for something to change, but this was not what he had in mind. Not by a long shot.

  He had dusted the metal box off and carried it inside. “Pa, what’s this?”

  Pa grunted awake.

  Linc put the box on the chair and opened the lid to reveal several necklaces and brooches and two rings with enormous stones. “These are Mrs. Ogilvy’s missing jewels, aren’t they?”

  “I hoped you wouldn’t find it.”

  “You stole it? And all this time I have defended you. Held my head high, telling myself and everyone who would listen that the McCoys were innocent.”

  “I tried to tell you but then decided no one need ever know. How did you find it?”

  “I dug out an old post.”

  “At the corner of the barn.”

  “That’s right.”

  “It was the worst decision I ever made. What can a man do with jewels? Once the Mountie sent a description of them across the country, I could never cash them in. So I buried them and moved on.”

  “Now what?”

  Pa coughed weakly. “I guess it’s up to you.”

  “Thanks, Pa. Thanks a lot.”

  “I’ll go to my grave with this over my head.”

  Linc’s anger and resentment melted. “Pa, you can go to your grave forgiven and ready for Heaven if you choose.”

  “God ain’t likely to forgive a man like me.”

  “God says in His word, ‘If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’”

  “I guess that applies to ordinary sins.”

  “When the Roman soldiers crucified Jesus, he prayed they might be forgiven. Doesn’t seem to me there is anything much worse than killing God’s son.”

  “I suppose it is worse than stealing and lying.”

  “I’d say so. Pa, you can have your sins forgiven and be ready to enter Heaven. Please, won’t you choose it?” Silently he prayed God would crack open his father’s stubborn heart.

  “I’ll think about it. Now what are you going to do with that stuff?”

  “The jewels? I’ll have to think about that, too.”

  He had to return the ponies to their owner on Monday and welcomed the opportunity the trip provided for him to think about what he should do. If he turned the jewels over to the Mountie, his pa would be arrested. If he held them until after Pa’s passing, he would be as guilty as Pa of hiding the truth. But oh, how he wished he didn’t have to face the fact that the McCoys were guilty.

  The faint hope he had that Sally might reconsider her plans to marry Abe and choose Linc instead died a painful death. He would never be worthy of such a woman. She would never consider linking her name with that of a McCoy. Everything people said about the McCoys was true.

  He prayed as he took the ponies back. He prayed as he returned to Golden Prairie. He sought something besides the only answer he could find. But nothing more came. He must do what was right, even though it was hard. Harder than anyone would ever know.

  His pa was dying, and Linc was about to turn him over to the law.

  Tuesday morning, he spared a brief glance at the Finleys’ backyard and caught a glimpse of Sally watering the garden.

  Setting his mind to do what he must, he walked away from the view, stuck the metal box, now covered with a blanket, under his arm and marched down the street toward the Mountie’s office.

  He set the box in front of the lawman and began his explanation. “My pa and brother stole the jewels and buried them in this box behind the barn. I discovered it while fixing the corrals. Only thing I ask is you let my pa die in peace.”

  “Sorry, son. I must question your father and get the truth. I will be mindful of his condition, however.”

  Linc had to console himself with that assurance. “I want to return them to Mrs. Oglivy and apologize as best I can.”

  “By rights this should be kept as evidence, but I suppose we can take pictures of the contents. First, I need you to give me a written statement.” He pushed paper, pen and ink to Linc.

  Linc wrote the facts out as precisely as possible, then he and the Mountie marched down the street. There wasn’t much call for a photographer, so the business was combined with undertaker. Linc stalled on the doorstep. He’d soon enough be visiting this man for the latter.

  The photographer asked no questions, but Linc could practically hear the cogs in his head working at high speed. No doubt he had figured out what he took pictures of. Although the Mountie had reminded him this was official business and was to be kept under wraps,
Linc wondered how long it would be before the whole town knew the McCoys had Mrs. Ogilvy’s jewels in their possession all this time. Over six years. Six years of living a lie, believing a lie.

  Mrs. Ogilvy looked surprised when she saw the Mountie and Linc on her doorstep. She noticed the metal box but said nothing.

  “Can we come in?” the Mountie asked.

  “By all means.” She stepped aside. “Forgive my lack of manners. Come and sit.” They trooped into a big living room with a large number of red items—red cushions, red drapes, red pictures. The walls were practically covered with pictures. What didn’t have a picture held a china cupboard or shelf loaded with knickknacks. He guessed many of the contents of the room were valuable. He sat stiffly on the red couch.

  The Mountie sat beside him. “Linc has something to say.”

  So he repeated the story as the Mountie handed her the box of jewels.

  She waited until he finished then slowly, tenderly lifted each item from the box. “Everything is here. The necklace and rings my grandmother brought from Russia. The pearls Grandfather gave to her on their wedding day. This necklace, my own dear Harold gave me on our wedding day. These are like children to me. Each one reminds me of a loved one and their life.” She reached for Linc’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for returning them to me.”

  It was all Linc could do not to bolt to his feet. He had done nothing worthy of thanks. Shame stung his thoughts. Shame that his family was as bad as people said.

  “Now, young man, tell me again where you found this.”

  He told her about fixing the corrals and digging out the broken post.

  “You say you weren’t involved?”

  “For the past six years I’ve believed the McCoys were falsely accused.” No doubt his bitterness and disappointment dripped from every syllable, but he didn’t care.

  “Where were you that day six years ago?”

  “I was helping my grandfather cut some hay in a slough. You know, the one west of town. He owns that land.” He’d been blissfully content for the first time since his mother died. He liked working the farm. Grandfather had suggested Linc buy a few head of cows and start his own herd. His grandfather had already paid him wages in the way of a sorrel gelding that he rode every chance he got.

  Mrs. Ogilvy nodded. “He used to get a good stock of hay off that slough.” She directed her attention back to Linc’s story. “Where have you been and what have you been doing since you left here?”

  He told her everything.

  “You like working on the ranch, it seems.”

  “I do.”

  “Will you go back there when you’re done here?”

  He wondered at her line of questioning, but considering what the McCoys had done to her, he willingly answered. “I don’t know what I’ll do. Grandmama needs help but—” He shrugged. “Might be best for her if I leave.”

  “I understand your father is not well.”

  “He’s dying.”

  She gasped. “Oh, how dreadful. I understand he was in an accident. Tell me about it.”

  Linc did not want to think about the accident, the death of his brother, the impending death of his father and now the guilt of the McCoys. He wished he could run away from all this, but he knew no matter how far he went, his past would accompany him. In short, precise words, he told of the mining accident, burying Harris and then transporting Pa home. “I hoped he’d recover, but I accept now that he won’t.”

  Mrs. Ogilvy patted the back of his hand. “You’ve been through a lot, young man.” She turned to the Mountie. “What happens now?”

  “I must investigate,” the Mountie said.

  Mrs. Ogilvy shook her head and turned to Linc. “I’m sorry this has to happen while your father is dying.”

  They left a few minutes later. “If your story proves correct, I won’t be arresting your father, though I will lay charges.”

  “If it proves correct? Do you think I’d turn in my father falsely?”

  The Mountie gave him a hard look. “It’s mighty convenient to have your brother dead, your father soon to be joining him from what I hear, and you as innocent as a baby, if one believes your story.”

  “Then get busy and find your proof.” He stormed away. How had things gotten so complicated?

  “I’ll be over in an hour to question your father. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Linc spun around. “I think if I planned to leave town, I would have buried the jewels again and not said a thing.” He told Grandmama to expect the Mountie then retreated to the barn. But he found no peace there, only the sense of dread hanging over his head. Even memories of Sally and the one kiss they’d shared failed to ease his mind.

  He forced himself to remain in the barn, telling Big Red how mixed up life had become until it was time for the Mountie to come, then he returned to the house. Grandmama hovered at the stove and jerked about when Linc banged the door.

  “My, you startled me. I’m as nervous as a young bride. Last time I had the police in my house…well, they were accusing your father of stealing from Mrs. Ogilvy. I never believed it possible. Still don’t.”

  “Pa regrets it, if that’s any consolation.”

  “Can’t say it is, with a Mountie about to march into my house. I expect all the neighbors will have their noses pressed to their windows.”

  Linc tried to sound caring but failed. “There is no such thing as a secret in a small town.” He went to Pa’s room to prepare him for the visit.

  Pa twitched. “Is he going to arrest me?”

  “No. He’s just coming to discover the truth.”

  “I’ll tell him. You can count on it.”

  “Yeah, Pa.”

  Linc sat with Pa as the Mountie questioned him. After Pa finished, the Mountie asked, “You’re saying Linc had nothing to do with this? No knowledge of it?”

  “That’s correct. He was just a boy.”

  “He was sixteen. About the same age as when Billy the Kid started his life of crime.”

  The hair on the back of Linc’s neck stood up at being compared to such a notorious criminal. “My father says I’m innocent and I am.”

  “I guess if I was about to die, I’d do what I could to clear my son’s name, too.”

  Linc bolted to his feet. “Sounds like you’re calling both me and my pa liars.”

  The officer’s expression remained impassive. “I’m saying you’ll need more proof than your father’s word.” He didn’t wait for Linc to show him out.

  Linc ignored his pa’s call. He ignored Grandmama’s plea to cool down. Instead, he raced to the barn, threw a saddle on Red and rode away from town as fast as he could.

  How did he prove his innocence? Grandfather was the only one who could vouch for where he was, and he was gone.

  His mad ride took him by Judd and Madge’s farm. He would not think of all the good times he’d enjoyed there with Sally. Then he passed the Morgan place. He’d never be welcome there now. Not with guilt hanging over his head.

  He rode farther then, finally, out of consideration for his horse, slowed. Still he rode on. If only he could ride until he reached a place where no one knew him. He’d change his name and never have to face the shame of being a McCoy. But eventually his anger cooled. His pa was dying. And Linc would not abandon him to die alone, or leave Grandmama to care for him. So he turned Red about and headed back to town, his heart feeling cold and heavy in his chest.

  Sally had seen the Mountie stride into Mrs. Shaw’s house and wondered what was wrong. He left half an hour later without a backward look. And then Linc raced to the barn, and a few minutes afterward rode Red away at a furious pace. Sally longed to know the cause of all this commotion. She considered going to the house and asking Mrs. Shaw.

  But she cleaned the kitchen and prepared a dessert as she considered it. Would Mrs. Shaw find her concern unwelcome? Finally, she could stand it no longer. She must find out what was wrong, but before she could put action to her thought, a knock
came on the front door and she went to answer it.

  “Madge, what are you doing here?”

  Madge stepped in and hurriedly closed the door behind her. “Have you heard?”

  “What?” It wasn’t like Madge to be so mysterious.

  Madge pulled her to the kitchen and insisted she sit.

  “What is this all about?”

  Madge sat beside her and took her hands. “The McCoys have suddenly found Mrs. Ogilvy’s jewels and turned them in. The Mountie questioned both Linc and his father. Everyone is talking. Apparently Mr. McCoy claims to be solely responsible and says Linc is completely innocent.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “People have seen the Mountie and Linc going to Mrs. Ogilvy’s with a metal box. No doubt the missing jewels, and someone overheard the Mountie talking about the McCoys’ explanation.”

  “Lots of someones involved.”

  Madge never even took note of Sally’s sarcasm. “Of course, everyone speculates they’ve figured it all out so Linc would get off the hook, and his father will not live to go to trial. Mighty convenient, people are saying. You were right. It was wise to choose Abe.”

  Sally jerked her hands away. She hadn’t chosen Abe because she suspected Linc of being involved in anything shady. “Is that what you think? That Linc is guilty and seeking to escape judgment this way?”

  Madge didn’t answer, but her eyes revealed her doubt.

  “You saw him at the party. How he loves kids.” Sally felt a storm of words building and did nothing to stop it. “He came back so his pa could die at home. Why would he do that? Why not stay away rather than face what people are saying? And why would he turn in the jewels at all? Why not keep them hidden? Didn’t I hear you saying what a nice man he was just two days ago?” She jerked to her feet. “Nice men don’t steal and lie. Furthermore…” She lowered her head to within a few inches of Madge’s face and favored her with a glower. “Nice people don’t make such accusations.”

  Madge sank back, her expression stubborn. “Perhaps you’re right. But we’ll never know the truth.”

  Sally let out an explosive sound. “I know the truth. He would not steal. Nor would he take advantage of his father’s illness to clear his own name. None of this makes sense. Where did he find the jewels?”