Fortunately he shifted his gaze to Olivia and dragged his hat off his head. He began rolling and unrolling its brim. “Ma’am,” he intoned to Olivia. “I’m afraid this isn’t a social call. I’m here to talk to Jeff Hicks. I heard about what happened here. Floyd Endicott got me out of bed at daybreak to tell me.”
His tone and manner made Allie think of man who’d come to deliver horrible news, and she was immediately uneasy. “Do you mean he actually turned himself in?”
“Um, not exactly, ma’am. He admitted that he and Cooper were here and did some damage to your property.”
“Indeed they did! They destroyed all our crops and covered them with salt so that nothing will grow in that field for who knows how long!” She cast another sidelong look at her sister, but she didn’t even seem to be listening to the conversation.
“Yes, well, I haven’t had the chance to talk to him about it much.”
Just then, Jeff bounded up the back steps. “Allie, are you ready to—” He saw Will Mason then. “Will, we were just about to come see you.”
The sheriff looked uncomfortable doubly. “So I heard. Jeff, I need to talk to you about the murder of Cooper Matthews.”
“What!”
“Murder?” Allie whispered in shocked dismay.
“Right now you’re the prime suspect,” Will said, inclining his head at Jeff. “Floyd Endicott came to my door this morning with Cooper’s body in the back of a wagon. He said that the two of them were out here last night making mischief—”
“‘Mischief’ hardly describes it!” Jeff barked.
“He said you and Cooper scuffled and then you split his head open with a pick. He showed me that pick, Jeff. It’s all bloody. And Cooper’s head looks like a melon that someone dropped.”
“He’s dead?” What color remained in Jeff’s face drained away.
“That’s not the kind of injury a man usually survives. Doc Brewster confirmed the cause of death.”
“Jesus Christ, Will, you must know Floyd is lying! How the hell can you take his word against mine?”
“Maybe he is lying. But it’s no secret that there has been bad blood between you and Matthews for a long time. What were you doing last night?”
“Sleeping, goddammit! What does everyone else do in the middle of the night?”
“Do you deny you confronted Floyd and Cooper?”
“No, I talked to them, but only for a minute.” He went on to explain overhearing the two men argue, and seeing Floyd take off with the wagon, leaving Cooper behind. “The last time I saw Cooper Matthews, he was running across the field he’d just destroyed, very much alive.”
“So you spent only a minute with them. And the rest of the night?”
“I was in bed!”
“I don’t suppose someone can verify your story.”
“No, Will, you’ll just have to take my word for it,” Jeff snapped with sarcasm.
Allie opened her mouth to speak, but Jeff sent her a look that froze the words in her throat. Don’t you dare tell him you were with me, his eyes said.
Like a conjurer, Will produced a pair of wrist manacles. “Well, it’s your word against Floyd’s. So we’re going back to town to get this all straightened out. And until we do, you’re going to sit in my jail where I can keep an eye on you. Jeff, you’re under arrest.”
“Arrest!” Allie cried.
“Floyd is lying!” Jeff repeated.
“Mr. Endicott is not lying! I saw him do it, plain as day.” All gazes turned to Olivia. Her eyes glittered with sudden excitement, and she leveled an accusing finger at Jeff. “I saw Mr. Jefferson murder that man.”
Allie had never seen the ocean, but she’d read about it, and irrelevantly, she thought it must sound like the blood rushing through her head at that moment, pounding at her ears. She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach, and her heart thumped so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.
She stared at her sister in utter horror. With each passing day, Allie felt she knew less and less about her. “My God, Olivia, how can you make such—”
“Miss Olivia,” Will said, “I’ll need you to come to my office and tell me what you saw.”
Allie struggled to subdue the panic rising in her. “Sheriff, my sister is not well, as you know. I’m sure she’s made some kind of mistake. Jeff was in the lean-to all night. He could hardly have been in two places at once.”
“I know what I saw, Althea! I saw this man go out to the garden carrying a pick!” Olivia’s face was flushed with color.
“She’s lying, too!” Jeff barked.
“We’re not going to discuss this here,” Will interrupted. His tone of authority silenced all other protests. He put the manacles on Jeff, and watching, Allie felt her heart squeeze painfully, and only with supreme effort was she able to stifle the sobs threatening to erupt from her throat.
Jeff glared at Will, but the man remained detached and emotionless. He ushered Jeff outside and down the steps to two horses waiting in the yard.
Allie followed behind, watching as Jeff struggled to climb into the saddle with his hands bound in front of him. The sun reflected off the silver star on Will’s vest, making it gleam like a mirror. A sheriff’s badge was supposed to represent order and safety—defense against chaos and men like Cooper Matthews. Allie looked at the blinding symbol and only knew that the individual wearing it had the authority to take an innocent man to jail for a murder he didn’t commit. Suddenly she thought she had never seen anything more terrifying in her life.
Not even that dummy she’d found in the barn.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Never trust happiness.
An old cowboy, who’d broken more bones than Jeff had years, had told him that once. Jeff had been standing at the far end of the bar at the Liberal Saloon, doing his best to find the bottom of his whiskey bottle, when the graying old guy came in, limping slightly. Jeff had never seen him before, and never did again. He’d had a wise dignity about him, though, that made him seem taller than he really was. He’d looked at Jeff briefly, but long enough to make it seem as if he’d seen into his head and read his troubles. Standing a respectful distance down the bar, he’d asked no questions, but ordered a beer and told Jeff about a cowboy’s existence. It was a good one, but lonely. To stave off the loneliness, the cowboy had married a beautiful woman and fathered three fine children. Life had never been better or more sublime. He’d loved them more than he thought it possible to love. A man couldn’t have asked for more. Then one winter when the snows were deep, influenza had taken them all.
Never trust happiness. It’ll double-cross a man every time.
It had been a good lesson.
Wishing he’d remembered it sooner, Jeff lay on the stinking mattress in the jail cell and stared at the water-stained ceiling. It all smelled and looked much worse now that he was sober, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure how many hours he’d been here, but he’d watched a rectangle of sunlight cross the floor and climb the wall.
Happiness, sweet and poignant, had been just within his reach. He’d closed his fingers around it briefly, held it to his heart, and sighed with profound relief upon finding it.
And now . . .
Murder. He’d been arrested for Cooper Matthews’ murder, and Olivia Ford had arranged it merely by pointing her finger at Jeff. It had been so simple, so much easier than all the other stunts she’d pulled up to now. He certainly didn’t think she’d killed Cooper, but hadn’t it worked out nicely for her?
Will Mason had told Jeff that Judge Cavanaugh would come to town in a few days for the trial. Would a jury of Jeff’s peers believe Olivia? A crazy Ford sister? Yes, possibly, because it was socially unacceptable to question a lady’s veracity, even if that lady was spiteful and vindictive. Besides, Jeff had no allies in Decker Prairie anymore. It had been a long tumble from his days as sheriff to his status of the town drunk who’d been prone to sleep in upstanding citizens’ doorways and barns. No one knew or would care
that he’d managed to climb back out of that dark pit he’d wallowed in for over two years.
Jeff could view it all with a detached indifference, even a sense of the inevitable, until he thought of Allie. And he thought of her every other minute. Oh, damn, but she didn’t deserve this. He’d promised her so much more—hell, he’d even promised her the moon one night. A man who had nothing to give could afford to give away the moon, couldn’t he? But stuck in this cell, his only gift to her now would be heartache.
Just then, he heard the key turn in the main lock. Will Mason walked in and spoke to him from the other side of the bars.
“You have a visitor, Jeff. Althea Ford wants to see you.”
Jeff didn’t look up, but he closed his hand into a tight fist on his thigh. He wanted to see her so damned bad, he had to stop himself from flying to the cell door. But as much as he yearned for Allie, to touch her hands and look at her beautiful face, his pride wouldn’t permit it. He didn’t want her to see him this way. It was a hell of a time for him to develop self-respect. If it hadn’t been so pathetic, he would have laughed—for years he hadn’t cared what anyone thought of him or how they saw him.
“No visitors.” His reply sounded gruff and low, but it was the only sound he could make with his throat so tight with emotion.
He felt Will move closer. “You’re in a high holy mess this time,” he said quietly.
Jeff’s head came up sharply. “It sounds like you’ve got me tried and convicted already.”
“No, I don’t. I’m glad to see you sober and cleaned up. It’ll help you in court. But two eye witnesses are going to be hard to dispute. You need a lawyer.”
Jeff made a disgusted noise. Standing up, he paced around the small enclosure with his hands jammed in his back pockets. “Right, a lawyer. And how will I pay him? With my sterling reputation in Decker Prairie?” He came to a stop in front of Will.
The sheriff idly turned the big iron key ring he held. “I might be able come up with someone who’ll help.”
“Do you think I killed Cooper?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“It matters to me!”
A gaping moment of silence engulfed the small room before Will answered. “I don’t think you meant to kill him.”
“Great,” Jeff snapped sourly. “I guess I can count on you to give the judge a character reference.”
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I wish to God I wasn’t the sheriff right now.”
“Sure, I believe you, Will. Go home to Caroline tonight and tell her what a lousy day you had! Things look a lot different from this side of the cage—you should shut yourself in here sometime and enjoy the view. And while you’re at it, try picturing old Charlie Acton and his son closing their carpentry shop for a couple of days to build you a custom-made gallows at the end of the street.”
Will sighed. “Are you sure about not wanting to see Miss Althea?” He gave Jeff a speculating look. “She seems pretty concerned about you.”
Jeff heard the question in Will’s comment, but he wasn’t willing to reveal personal information. They’d been friends at one time, he and Will, but things were different now, about as different as they could get. He shook his head and went back to the bunk.
“Do you want me to give her a message for you?”
“No, goddamn it! Will, just leave me be.”
Will nodded, apparently taking no offense, and turned to leave. With his hand on the big oak door separating his office from the cell, he said, “Jeff, you might think you’re alone in this. But you’re not––I promise you that.”
Then he was gone and Jeff flopped down on the stained mattress, with only his thoughts for company. He might not want to let Allie see him in jail, but that didn’t stop Jeff from seeing her. She was vivid in his mind’s eye, as delicate as a bird, as strong as tempered steel. He pictured her red hair, curling in tendrils over her creamy skin, like cherries on porcelain, her blue-gray eyes that seemed to find all the hurting places hiding inside him and ease the pain. Just to look at her made a day brighter. Holding her in his arms had brought peace to his spirit, and a happiness he’d not expected to know again.
The last of the daylight hours passed with her in his heart, and sunset gave way to purple-shadowed twilight. He could imagine sitting on a front porch swing, watching the dusk with a single glass of whiskey on his knee. Allie sat next to him, holding their baby to her breast. Before them spread acres of planted fields, tilled with his sweat and love of the land, sowed with seed and his love for his wife and child.
Jeff rolled over on the on the creaking bunk to face the wall, and a single sob worked its way up from his chest. He wished to God that Allie were with him now.
~~*~*~*~~
Allie trudged along the final, dusty quarter mile to the farm, her feet like lead. Even her skirts felt heavy as she dragged them with her. She had to pass the ruined field on the way, still white with salt and dotted with sacking. The crushed and mangled plants had already begun to dry up. Jeff had been right—not a single one could be saved.
What a living nightmare this day had been. How could she have flown to such heights in Jeff’s arms last night, only to be plunged to the depths of despair today?
Of course, she knew the answer, and it could be summed up in a single name: Olivia.
Olivia—her sister, her own kin—had sat in Will Mason’s office and told him that she’d seen Jeff murder Cooper Matthews with a pick. She’d told the lie with such wide-eyed innocence, Allie realized how she had been duped all these years. Olivia was a very accomplished actress. Allie, tight-lipped and quietly furious, had sent her home while she stayed behind at the sheriff’s office to visit Jeff.
But then, oh, then, worst of all—Jeff had refused to see her and her heart had broken. Of course he would want nothing more to do with her. The Ford family was responsible for his latest round of torment, from Olivia’s fit at the dinner table to her accusation of murder.
As Allie approached the house she could hear Olivia’s piano. The notes were high and sweet and true, as if the woman playing them had not a care in the world. And no conscience.
Anger, righteous and throbbing, bubbled to the surface in Allie. Remembering what Jeff had said this morning, she repeated it to herself—she couldn’t take this anymore, not for a minute. Some things were too monstrous to be endured, and Allie had reached her limit. She would have it out with Olivia as she’d planned this morning.
Determination gave her new energy and drove her stride like the pistons in a steam engine. Lifting her skirts slightly, she marched over the path to the back door, up the steps and into the kitchen. She reached up to unpin her navy straw hat.
“Olivia!”
The melody of Stephen Foster’s “Beautiful Dreamer” trailed off and the piano fell silent.
“Olivia, come into the kitchen right now!”
The swish of taffeta announced her sister’s approach. She entered the room wearing the same open, innocent look she’d shown to Will Mason. “Althea—I’m so glad you’re home! Look, I’ve started our supper.” She pointed to the stove where a pot of unpeeled, finely chopped potatoes had boiled down to an inedible brown mush.
Allie now recognized this ruse. Olivia had used this kind of maneuver over the years, anytime she believed she’d overstepped her bounds. Exasperated, Allie demanded, “Do you realize what you have done? The damage you’ve caused?”
“Oh, dear, I know I’m not very good in the kitchen. I can start over. I’ll just toss that—”
Allie crushed the straw hat she still held in her hands, her knuckles white. “Just stop it, Olivia! Stop it right now! I’m not talking about potatoes or your deliberate incompetence. Why did you tell Sheriff Mason that horrible lie about Jeff?”
“It’s not a lie! I did see him outside last night, and he was carrying a pick. He went straight to the field, and he argued with those men.”
“Those men you paid to salt our land?”
>
Olivia lifted her chin. “I did no such thing! The argument got worse and then he hit one of them in the head with that pick. I saw it!”
“Why have you done these horrible things to me and to Jeff? You’ve lied to me, tricked me, and practically put a noose around Jeff Hicks’ neck! I want to know why you would condemn an innocent man.”
“He killed once, he could do it again. Anyway, how do you know he’s innocent? Were you with him?”
The question took Allie aback. “N-no! Of course not. I just know what kind of man he is.”
Olivia’s childlike face hardened into a shrewd expression. “Now who’s lying? I saw you last night—you and him. Together in his bed, all sweaty and breathing hard.”
Allie stared at her sister, overwhelmed by a vague nauseous feeling. Olivia had always kept odd hours and Allie had never really known what she did at night. But now, the idea that she had watched her and Jeff while they— Oh, God, it sickened her to think about.
Allie finally found enough breath to speak. “How dare you? That was none of your business!”
“I even heard him ask you to go away with him. Everything was fine until he came here, and he wouldn’t leave. But he’s gone now, and I know he won’t be coming back. So everything will be fine again, and our lives will go back to the way they were before.”
Allie could scarcely credit the twisted way her sister’s mind worked. To think that she actually believed Allie would be content to return to the prison of catering to her whims, to have no happiness or contentment or companionship—it staggered the imagination.
“Olivia, know this—no matter what happens, our lives will never be the same as they were before. I will leave this farm regardless of what happens to Jeff. But if he’s convicted, God forbid, I’ll leave Decker Prairie and I will never speak to you again. If you think I’m joking, I swear to you that I am not.”
“You would put that—that farmhand ahead of me?” Olivia put special emphasis on the word, as if it described the lowest form of life on earth.
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