“I understand,” she said. “Come on. We’ll have a seat in the parlor for a few minutes. I’ll help Ellis, and we’ll figure out what Father wants to say.”
“Where’s the other fella?” I asked as Ellis pushed Father into the parlor.
Mary took a seat on the sofa next to Father’s chair. “Mr. Fisher has Sundays off. It’s usually just family here, so we don’t need his services then.”
“I see. So what does he want to ask me?”
Mary and Ellis looked over Father’s shoulder while he scribbled on the board. Mary interpreted. “How’s Ruby?”
My gut twisted. “I’d rather not talk about Ruby, if that’s all right.”
“He wants you to know he’s sorry.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m working on forgiving him. But that’s gonna take some time.”
Mary erased his board for him and he scribbled again. “Did you look over the papers he gave you?”
“Yes. I gave them to Ruby’s lawyer.” I met Father’s gaze. “I’m not interested in the property or the money, but I am grateful for what you did to get Ruby’s conviction vacated. She at least has a chance at a fair trial now.”
He scribbled again. “He wants to know if there’s anything he can do to help.”
“No. We’re trusting in the Lord this time. He’s all we need.”
“What about money for the lawyer?”
“I have enough for now. My life insurance is covering a good portion of it.”
“What about a job? Do you need work?”
I pushed up from my chair and took a deep breath, walking a few steps to keep my frustration from mounting. “Look, we have everything we need right now. I appreciate the offer for help. But I don’t want anything from you. Please respect that.”
Father gazed up at me, unmoving for a few moments. Then he nodded slightly. I was hoping he was through, but he scribbled again. “How are you feeling?” Mary asked.
“I’m fine.”
She shifted in her seat, looking as though she was treading carefully. “I think what he’s asking about is your health. I told him about what happened when I visited, and how sick you were. He’s been worried about you. He wants to know how your health is.”
“Some things have been tough to deal with, but I’m getting better.”
“That’s good to know,” she said.
“Well, I need to get going,” I said, anxious to put an end to all the questions. This was about as far as I could go down the path to reconciliation for one day. “I’ll come back and visit again soon.”
I gave Father a polite nod as Mary stood. She came over and hugged me, speaking into my ear. “Thank you so much. This means the world to me.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you soon. I promise.”
I shook Ellis’s hand and let myself out the front door. I jogged down the steps, finally feeling like I could breathe again. I hadn’t realized how tight my nerves were the entire time I was in that house. I climbed into Asa’s truck and sat quietly behind the wheel for a few minutes.
“Thank you, Lord,” I said out loud. “I know it’s not exactly complete forgiveness, but it’s a start.”
***
The next morning we got off to an early start around the farm. The country had finally returned to its regular time, turning the clocks back an hour from what had been called “War Time.” I hadn’t slept well in so long, it didn’t make any difference to me. But Asa was pleased as Punch.
“Ain’t gotta wait around for the cows to get up to start on the chores,” he said as we walked out to the barn. “We can get to work at a decent hour of the morning now. Get most of these chores knocked out before breakfast.”
Indeed, we did get them knocked out before breakfast, which was fine by me. I got to take Hope down to see her animals for a tad bit longer, and seeing her smile after all those tears the day before did my heart good. She gave a good scolding to the hog, who by all accounts had spent the night lying flat on his side. But Hope was convinced he’d been rooting under the fence again, so he got a good talking to over the matter.
After her rounds, I took Hope back up to the house to help Mrs. Graves with the chores while Asa and I went down to the workshop. Hope registered her usual complaints about doing the girls’ jobs, and I gave them the attention they deserved.
Then I went down to the workshop and set to planning the addition the Kramers had hired me to build onto their house down the road a piece. I suspected they were more interested in catching any gossip floating around me than they were in my work, but it was money I needed, so I’d accepted the job.
Late in the morning, I heard a car coming down the driveway. I figured it was either nosy neighbors or nosy reporters. I had a good mind to ignore it, but I didn’t want Asa or Mrs. Graves having to handle my problems, so I went out to greet the visitor. A smartly dressed man climbed out of the maroon Chevy convertible, and he looked around the farm like it was a marvel. I could tell by his snazzy clothes that he wasn’t from around these parts. When he removed his sunglasses, I recognized him immediately.
“Mr. Freeman!” I said with surprise. “What in the blazes are you doing here?”
His easy smile spread across his face, and he stuck out his hand. “Man, oh man!” We shook hands with enthusiasm. “Am I glad to see you made it off Mindanao alive. I thought for sure the Japs had gotten you, but here you stand. You sure are a sensation across the state of Alabama right now.”
“Don’t tell me you came all the way down here chasing a story.”
Mrs. Graves and Hope came out of the front door. “Hello there,” she said. “Can we help you?”
“I certainly hope so,” he said.
“Mrs. Graves,” I said, stepping up to the front porch and picking up Hope. “This here’s Mr. Homer Freeman. He writes for Time magazine.”
“Mr. Freeman,” she said, her voice tight. “We’re not interested in giving any interviews.”
“I completely understand,” he said. “But if you’ll allow me a few minutes of your time, I can explain how I know this fine young man and his wife.”
“You know Ruby?” She glanced at me with a furrowed brow.
“Mr. Freeman was in the Philippines with us,” I said. “He escaped on the same plane that Ruby did.”
“Like I said, ma’am. I only want a few minutes of your time, and maybe just a few bites of whatever smells so good in there.”
Mrs. Graves looked back and forth between us before tossing her hands up. “All right then. I reckon if Matthew trusts you, we can trust you. I’ll just go get Asa and let him know dinner’s ready soon.”
I passed Hope over to her. “Go with Grandma, sweetie. And pick me out a nice juicy peach for my dessert.”
“Yes, sir,” Hope said, giving a suspicious glance to Mr. Freeman.
Once they were off the porch, I held the door open, and Mr. Freeman came inside. “Can I get you a glass of sweet tea?” I asked.
“That would be splendid,” he said, taking a seat at the table. I poured us two glasses and joined him. He didn’t waste any time getting down to business. “Matthew, I understand Ruby’s in jail awaiting trial for murder. Again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, don’t bother with the formalities for me. I’m just Homer. And I owe my life to you. I’m the one that should be saying ‘Sir.’”
“All right, Homer. Yes. Ruby’s in jail, and she’s been charged with murder and fleeing from justice. So, I reckon you’ve already figured out that what Natalie said on Mindanao was true.”
“I worked that out a long time ago. Before I ever said goodbye to Ruby in Australia. I also worked out that Ruby didn’t kill anybody. So what gives?”
I took a gulp of my tea. “It’s a long story.”
“Those are my specialty,” he said.
“I don’t want our business splashed all over the pages of magazines and newspapers. No offense.”
“None taken. I do hope you realize that your busines
s is going to be splashed on those pages whether you like it or not. This story has legs. It’s spreading fast. And what I can offer you is a chance to tell the real story. To control the narrative. I don’t want you and Ruby getting painted as outlaws. I know the courage and integrity that’s inside you. I saw it that day on Mindanao. I want to help.”
“By doing what exactly? Writing a story about us?”
“Not just a story. A series of articles. I want to show the country why we fought so hard against the Nazis. Why it was necessary to blow the Japs to smithereens. Your story isn’t just about you. It’s about all of us who suffered over there. It’s about our boys who died. It’s about the ones coming home to a shattered existence. The world needs to know that it’s possible to rise above it.”
“I don’t want to do anything that would hurt Ruby’s case.”
“I don’t either. I don’t intend to write one word that you and your lawyer think will hurt her. But at this point, I truly believe if you get the public on your side, it can only help.”
I drank the rest of my tea, considering what he was offering. Despite my best intentions to trust God and surrender to His control over the situation, I was perplexed over just what that meant. Had God sent Homer here for this very reason? What if this was another bad decision like I’d made before with Ruby’s uncles? What if I did something to hurt Ruby rather than help?
“I tell you what,” I finally said. “I need to think about this and pray on it. I’ll talk to our lawyer tomorrow. I’m going down to see Ruby. We have to decide if we’re taking the plea deal the solicitor offered us.”
“Would you mind if I tag along? Off the record, of course. I sure would like to see Ruby again.”
“She’d probably like to see you too. I don’t reckon it would hurt anything for you to come by. We’re meeting at the jail at two o’clock tomorrow.” I stood and shook his hand. “Off the record?”
He took my hand and smiled. “Until you say otherwise.”
***
I prayed long into the night for God to tell me what to do. But as usual, God was not that direct with me. I’d become sure that whatever I did, surrendering to God’s hand in my life had to be the guiding principle of my decisions. I still didn’t have a full grasp of what that meant. Maybe I never would. But I was determined to figure it out the best I could with my limited wisdom and stubborn determination for control.
There was no small voice whispering in my thoughts this time, but there was a quiet peace in my spirit. Somehow, even though I couldn’t make sense of it, I was certain that God’s hand was in all of this, even in Homer’s arrival. And I found peace in knowing that whatever happened, God was with us.
I slept fitfully, still struggling with dreams of gunfire, blood, and regret. When I awoke the next morning, the sheets were so wet with perspiration, I could’ve rung them out. I went out to the well and doused myself with cold, refreshing water, washing away the darkness still trying to steal my hope.
After the chores were finished for the morning, and Hope was once again under the patient care of Mrs. Graves, I borrowed Asa’s truck to head into Cullman. I arrived at the courthouse earlier than my scheduled visit with Ruby and Stanley, and went into the section of the courthouse where the judges and lawyers had their offices. I took a moment to say a prayer before knocking on Mr. Norton’s door.
Lord, even Jesus asked for a way out before he submitted to Your will, so I reckon it’s all right to ask. I know that You are able to remove this cup from Ruby. If it’s Your will, please let me drink from it instead. I trust that You are able to accomplish this Lord. But even if You don’t, my hope lies in You.
I pushed the door open, greeting a young woman at a desk who seemed quite busy. She glanced up at me over the top of her typewriter. “Can I help you?”
“I was wondering if I could speak with Mr. Norton for just a moment. It won’t take long.”
She pressed her lips into a hard line and rolled her chair over to another section of her desk. She scanned a date book, shaking her head. “I don’t think I can get you in until Friday.”
“Is he here?”
She huffed and rolled back over to her typewriter. “Yes, but he’s on an important phone call.”
“I’ll wait. Like I said, it’ll just take a moment.”
“He has an appointment following the phone call. It’s best to schedule a time to meet with him rather than simply showing up here.”
“I completely understand,” I said. “And I won’t do it again. But this is very important.”
She eyed me another moment, then took the pen out from behind her ear. “And what’s your name?”
“Matthew Doyle.”
Her eyebrow twitched, but her demeanor didn’t change. She jotted a note onto a small piece of paper and disappeared into the office bearing the name Sol. Ernest Norton. She returned a few seconds later. “I gave him the message that you wanted to see him. I can’t guarantee he’ll make time for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking a seat across from her. I rested my head in my hands, and went back to praying.
About twenty minutes later, Mr. Norton stepped out of his office. I stood and offered my hand, which he gave a brisk shake. “I understand you want to see me, Major Doyle?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “It should only take a few minutes.”
“All right, then. Step inside my office.”
I couldn’t help but notice the cold, minimal feel to his surroundings. Only a few books lined the matching bookshelves behind his desk, and they were aligned perfectly with the edge of the shelf. Everything, including his diploma and a picture of his wife in her wedding gown, was set apart in exact proportions.
“Take a seat,” he said, coming around his desk. “Have you and Mrs. Doyle come to a decision about your plea? I expected to hear from Mr. Pierce on the matter days ago.”
“I apologize for making you wait. Ruby and I needed some time to consider everything and pray over our options. I know to everyone else around here we must seem like resurrected fugitives, but there’s a deep need in Ruby’s heart to do the right thing. She’s…she’s just the most caring person I’ve ever known.” Mr. Norton didn’t appear to be moved, so I cleared my throat and focused on why I was there. “Mr. Norton, I understand all the charges as you explained them last week. I was wondering if I might be able to convince you to make a few changes.”
“I already negotiated as much as I’m going to. Take it or leave it. Up to you.”
“And I understand that, but what I mean to say is that…well, if you can come up with a deal where I’m the one who goes to prison instead of Ruby, I’d sure be glad to take it.”
He lifted an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “You would go to prison instead of Ruby?”
“Yes, sir. I’d plead guilty to whatever you feel is appropriate to charge me with.”
“Why would you do such a thing, son?”
I didn’t particularly care for being called son, but I brushed that aside. “We have a daughter who’s about to turn three. She’s one of the reasons Ruby didn’t come turn herself in as soon as she escaped the Philippines.”
“Did you say three?”
“Yes, sir.”
He looked toward the ceiling as if he was counting to himself. “So your daughter was…well, Ruby was pregnant when she arrived in Australia?”
“Yes, sir.” It occurred to me that I might be saying more than I should. But I was determined to convince him that it was I who should be in jail. “Hope—she’s our daughter—she needs her mother. She misses her every day.”
“Wouldn’t she miss her father as well?”
“Yes, sir. Believe me, if I could make sure my daughter had both of us in her life, I’d do whatever I could to make that happen. But that just isn’t the reality we’re facing. I understand that. I just want to do what’s best for my family.”
“I see.” He pressed his fingertips together and seemed to consider this. “You know
, I made a few phone calls and got a copy of your records from the army. You were awarded a Silver Star.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You aided the escape of twenty people from the island of Mindanao, charging into a Japanese patrol so the plane could take off.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you commanded a guerrilla unit in Luzon for over two years.”
“Yes, sir. But I don’t see what that has to do with Ruby’s case.”
He leaned forward and studied me. “I reckon I’m just trying to get a picture of the man I’m looking at. Seems you’re a bona fide hero.”
I met his gaze. “Sir, if you really knew everything, I mean…everything…you’d know who the real hero is. And it’s Ruby.”
His expression softened, and for a moment, he actually seemed sad. “Mr. Doyle, the way I see it, the law has to apply to everyone equally. There can be no exceptions. Justice must be blind, even to heroes.”
His answer didn’t surprise me. “So, that’s it. The deal is the deal.”
“The deal is the deal.”
I stood and offered my hand again. “I thank you for your time, Mr. Norton.”
He stood and shook it. “I thank you for your service and your sacrifice, Major Doyle.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ruby
October 2, 1945
Cullman County Jail, Alabama
I was just getting my feet under me when John came to my cell on Tuesday afternoon. I’d spent most of the morning bent over my pail. John looked in on me with pity every time he came to check on me, and he’d ask if there was anything he could do. I imagine he felt downright helpless, but there wasn’t anything that could cure my nausea, except maybe going home.
John unlocked my cell door and glanced over at the pail by my bed. “You feeling up to a visit today?”
“I reckon I have to today,” I said, pushing myself up from my cot. “We’re making a decision about whether or not to accept Mr. Norton’s plea deal.”
“Oh.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I sure wish there was something I could do to help you, Ruby.”
Abiding Hope: A Novel: Healing Ruby Book 4 Page 34