“Read it aloud.”
Andrew returned to the place he’d marked with his finger and let his eyes travel over the words for a moment, then cleared his throat.
“I don’t trust Robert Ludlow, not one whit. He’s been flirting with my Jenny, and him a married man. She don’t give him no encouragement. Ludlow keeps up his vile ways, and I’ll have me a talk with the man.”
Robert Ludlow grunted and spewed a curse, then spit on the dusty floor. “Just because I gave the man’s daughter a compliment a time or two doesn’t mean a thing. It’s certainly not a crime and nothing I’d kill him over.”
The sheriff stared at the man on the floor. “Might not be too comfortable for you if Jenkins threatened to tell your wife. Could be you’d lose your standing in the community and maybe even your job.” He turned his head just an inch but kept his gaze fixed on Ludlow. “Anything more, Browning?”
Andrew flipped through several more useless pages, frustration mounting in his chest. Early afternoon sunlight filtered through large cracks in the walls as the sun broke through the clouds that had blown in an hour or two before. A light breeze wafted through the open door, stirring the dirt on the floor and causing Ludlow to sneeze. “Can’t you let me up off this filthy floor?”
“You’re fine right there.” Sheriff Bryant waved the gun muzzle. “Just you lie back down and quit squirming. You’re making me nervous.”
Ludlow sank back prostrate on the floor, his arms out at his sides. “Fine. But you’re not going to find anything else, and you can’t hold me for something as trivial as flirting with the man’s daughter.”
Andrew quit turning the pages of the journal and raised his head. “Found something more, Sheriff. Want me to read it?”
“Go on.”
“This is dated just a week before Martin’s death.” Andrew’s firm voice echoed in the empty barn as he read:
“Ludlow’s worse scum than I thought. I got proof now that he’s stealing money from the school fund. I been checking around amongst some of the other board members without raising a ruckus and found out how much ought to be there. Guess Ludlow’s in charge of the money, but my Jenny works at the railroad depot where they keep it. She ain’t supposed to tell me these things, but she’s been worried of late, after she got aholt of some papers Ludlow filed with the depot man. The figures don’t add up, and it’s clear the rat has been skimming money.”
Andrew looked over the next paragraphs and saw nothing more about Ludlow. He flipped another couple of pages of commonplace records.
Ah—one more page. “Here’s the last entry. Jenkins says this:
“I’m going to confront Ludlow. I came home early today and found Jenny crying. She had to fight Ludlow off and barely escaped with her virtue. Her blouse was near torn off and her hair down around her face. I’m sending her to her aunt’s in Portland, and then I’m tracking that scoundrel down. I’ve already sent him word that I intend to run him out of town if he don’t come clean about the money, but now he’s gone too far. I plan to turn him over to the sheriff.”
Andrew looked up and met Bryant’s eyes. “The entries end two days prior to Jenkins’ death.”
Sheriff Bryant reached down and grabbed Ludlow by the back of his collar, jerking him up to a kneeling position. “I’ve heard enough. Between this journal and Jenny’s testimony, you’re headed to jail. Let’s go.”
Chapter Forty-four
Three days later Margaret walked hand in hand with Andrew on a trail through the woods, relishing the cooler weather and enjoying the smell of air freshly washed after a rain shower. They’d left Sammie and Joel at Art Gibbs’ home after Joel begged to stay and play with Buck. Margaret’s heart swelled with joy at the chance to be alone with Andrew—this was the first chance they’d had to talk privately since Andrew had returned and Robert Ludlow was arrested. Margaret smiled and lifted her face toward Andrew. “I’m glad you thought of this. I’ve been hoping we’d have time to talk.”
Andrew nodded and squeezed her hand. “Me too.” He gestured toward the majestic trees clinging to the sides of the nearby hill. “I’m thankful the fire didn’t make it down here last week. It’s bad enough that it wiped out Palmer and they have to start over.”
“So they’re going to rebuild, then?”
“Yes. They’ve already started. Several of the families are working together to remove the burned rubble, and Mr. Palmer is allowing employees who owned their homes on outlying farms to buy lumber at cost. Of course, the Company will rebuild the new mill up above, as well as the workers’ cabins.”
“I heard the schoolhouse burned. Do you think they’ll replace it?”
He sidestepped a large root growing across the path, then guided her around it. “Yes. It’s doubtful school will start anytime before the first of next year, but they plan on rebuilding. It looks like they’ll push everything back at least a mile or so from its old location, though—closer to the logging site and away from the burned area.”
“Good.” She walked for a while in silence, her thoughts and prayers going to the families who’d been hit by the tragedy. “I never heard what happened after you left the upper mill and had to flee the fire.”
“It was tough.” He drew his free hand across his brow. “A group of us fought the fire for as long as we could, until the cry went up to abandon the town. We traveled a short piece up the road where Sam and Martha Jenson lived and we heard the boilers start to explode, one after another. We tramped for hours through the woods and along dirt roads trying to outrun the fire. Sometimes we thought we’d put it behind us, then we’d come face-to-face with it again. We were trying to get to Latourelle and had just climbed to the rim of a canyon when we were faced with a wall of fire on three sides and were forced to run for our lives back the way we’d come.”
Margaret gripped Andrew’s hand, her heart pounding at the image his words conveyed. “Thank God you weren’t hurt!”
He nodded. “I’d been praying the entire way, as I think most of the men must have been, and God intervened. A man driving a wagon with several people aboard came around the bend a short way down the road, and he knew a way out. The women and children climbed on, and the rest of us had to run behind the wagon for several miles. We took turns spelling each other, as the wagon had room for only one more man. It took a number of hours, but we made it to a farm that hadn’t been touched by the fire—at least while we were there. I pray they escaped any damage later.”
“So you stayed there?”
“They fed us, and we collapsed on their floor and in the barn, while one person stood watch for the fire. We were thankful to be alive and safe for the time being.” Andrew led Margaret off the side of the trail and over to a fallen log. He took off his jacket and laid it across the bark, then sat down beside her. “We spent the night there, then made our way to the tracks and flagged down the freight train.”
Margaret rubbed her hands along her upper arms and shivered. “What a horrible ordeal.”
“It was.” He reached for her hand again and cradled it in his own. “All I could think about while I was running was whether or not you were safe. We had no way of knowing if the fire had shifted or made its way down the mountainside and spread to the town. I wanted nothing more than to get back and take you and the children to safety.”
Margaret smiled. “I spent the entire time praying for your safety.” Warmth rose to her cheeks. “I think that’s when I started to understand my own heart, when I realized you might never come back to me.” She lifted a hand to her face.
Andrew leaned closer and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve been hoping you felt the same as I for a long time. I care deeply for you, Margaret, but hesitated to tell you when I believed you still had feelings for Cooper.”
Margaret leaned her cheek against his chest, releasing a small sigh. “I thought I did, but I came to understand it was only a childish memory that had no substance. I think I first started to realize that when I saw the diff
erence between him and you spiritually and in the way you treated the children, among other things. His lack of faith didn’t matter to me as much when he first came back here, since I was still fighting my own spiritual battles.” She raised her head and looked into his eyes, seeing her own deep caring reflected there. “I guess I never saw how demanding Nathaniel could be. In so many ways, you’ve shown how much you care about me.”
Andrew gently touched her hair, smoothing a wayward curl back into place behind her ear. His hand brushing against her cheek sent a warm wave of longing over Margaret, and she leaned in to his touch. She held her breath for a moment, wondering if he might kiss her. His face hovered close as he held her with his gaze, but he didn’t bend his head to hers.
Then he cleared his throat and drew back a couple of inches, dropping his hand into his lap. “You said you’ve been fighting your own battles. Did that include being upset with me for agreeing to look out for you?”
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath, waiting to see what would happen. A slow hiss of air now escaped through her slightly parted lips as she released it. “I’ve been frustrated with the Lord for months—maybe even for years—thinking He let me down when Nathaniel left town. I was so sure God had sent him into my life and that He’d promised He’d take care of the relationship. When Nathaniel disappeared, I thought God had misled me, or that I couldn’t trust Him anymore. Finding out Papa buried the note I left for Nathaniel shook me at an even deeper level. I was positive that both God and Papa had betrayed me.” She looked down at her lap and fiddled with a bit of lace on her skirt. “And yes, I was upset with Papa for asking you. I was so afraid you didn’t really see me as a person—that your interest was out of a sense of duty to my father.”
Andrew turned his shoulder to face her, and his other hand moved to cover hers already held gently in his own. “What do you think now?”
“That God knew and understood what I needed from the beginning.” She dropped her head and bit her lip, guilt and relief warring within. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier, and that I’ve been blind for so long. It’s been hard for me to accept that people love me for who I am, not for what I bring to their lives. I guess that was my biggest fear where you were concerned.”
“I’m sorry you felt that way,” he murmured. “I’ve always admired you. I think you’re an amazing woman.”
Margaret’s eyes met his earnest ones. “I’m glad. God was in control even when I didn’t trust Him to be. I’ve asked the Lord to forgive me and to help me to trust Him from now on. I have to admit something, though.”
His dimples peeked out from their hiding places again. “What’s that?”
“I’m still battling with completely trusting.”
“You mean about your future?” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss on her palm. “I think that God has your life in His hands.” Then a small pucker of worry crept into his expression. “Unless you’re still not sure? I care deeply for you, Margaret, and I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
She laid gentle fingers over his lips. “I know. I was speaking about the children, not myself this time. I’m struggling with worry about their future, now that we know Mrs. Stedman could return.”
Andrew nodded. “I understand. I’ve been entertaining the same worry and trying to give it to the Lord. I spoke to the sheriff about it, but I’m afraid he didn’t offer much help. He said if the woman returns with papers showing legal guardianship, there’s little he can do.”
Margaret groaned and slumped against Andrew’s shoulder. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She pushed to her feet and held out her hand. “Let’s head back to town. I hate leaving them any longer than we have to, even though it’s been wonderful having this time alone.”
He stood and took a small step closer to her, once again brushing the hair from her face and allowing his hand to linger against her cheek. His hand slid down, and he cupped her chin, lifting it just an inch or two, and looked into her eyes. “Margaret—” His dark eyes held hers, leaving her breathless. His mouth moved closer, hesitating a hair’s breadth above hers, then dropping the last little bit to claim her own.
Sweet satisfaction poured through her, sending incredible joy and a deep longing pulsing through her body. Margaret raised her fingertips and stroked the side of his face, then slipped both hands around his neck as the kiss deepened and drew her into dizzy oblivion. Sometime later Andrew raised his head and drew back a fraction, then planted tender kisses on her closed eyelids, her forehead, and finally the tip of her nose. “I love you, Margaret Garvey, with all of my heart, soul, and mind. I was terrified when I thought I might lose you, and I’ll thank God to my dying day that you saw fit to choose me.”
Her mouth felt dry and her voice came out husky, but she kept her arms clasped around his neck, never wanting to let go. “I can’t believe it took me so long to realize I loved you. Thank you for being patient with me.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly, then drew back. “As much as I’d like to continue, I think we’d best get back.” She let her arms slip from around his neck and stepped back a foot.
“All right.” Andrew rubbed his hand over his face, then gave her a brilliant smile, both dimples turning his countenance into a bit of a rogue’s. “But I have something else to say to you when we have time, and if you’ll allow me.”
Margaret touched her finger to his cheek. “Oh, I’ll allow you, never you fear.”
Chapter Forty-five
Margaret and Andrew held hands until they reached the edge of town, and then they walked side by side without touching the rest of the way to Art’s house. They neared the front yard to find Buck and Joel rolling in the grass, the boy’s arms wrapped around the dog’s neck and Buck licking Joel’s cheek. Happy chortles danced on the air. What a blessing that boy could have these moments of joy after so much sorrow, Margaret couldn’t help but think. She lifted a hand and waved at Sammie sitting on the grass nearby. “Having a good time?”
Joel let out a squeal and Sammie grinned. “Yep. Mr. Art gave us cookies and milk, and he gave Buck a cookie, too.”
Margaret was delighted to see the pleasure on Sammie’s face. “Where’s Mr. Art now?” She paused outside the gate to let the dog notice her presence, then carefully pushed it open.
“He went back in the house to write a letter to his intended.” Sammie pushed a wisp of straw-colored hair out of her eyes. “What’s an ‘intended’?”
Andrew chuckled, and Margaret stifled a smile. She sat down on a low stool close to where Sammie lay on the grass. “Glenna is Mr. Art’s intended—that means he intends to marry her. She’s his fiancée.”
“Why doesn’t she live in Bridal Veil, then, if they’re gonna get married?”
Margaret plucked a fir needle from her skirt and tossed it aside. “Her parents live in Portland, and she won’t move here until she and Mr. Art marry next spring, but Mr. Art goes to visit her whenever he can.”
“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes, but a sparkle still penetrated between the hooded lids. “It’s nice you don’t live in Portland.”
Andrew’s grin turned to a genuine laugh. “You’re right about that, Sammie.”
Sammie raised her chin, and a solemn look smoothed the laugh from her cheeks. “Could you start calling me Samantha now? I don’t think I want to be Sammie anymore.” She turned toward her brother, who’d moved close, and tweaked his nose. “Except to Joel. He can call me whatever he wants to.”
Margaret put her arm around the girl’s shoulder and squeezed. “Samantha it is. I think that name suits the young lady you’re becoming.”
Andrew grinned again. “I agree. Miss Samantha McGavin it will be from now on.”
Margaret lifted her chin. “Want to go thank Mr. Art for letting you come? I need to stop by the store, then we’ll head home and start supper.”
“All right.” Samantha jumped to her feet and grabbed Joel’s hand. “Come on, Joel. We need to thank Mr. Art for the cooki
es.”
Joel lumbered to his feet. “Those were yummy cookies. Do you think he’d let me take some home?”
Samantha frowned. “It’s not polite to ask, Joel. We need to be grateful for what he gave us and not ask for more.” Joel hung his head at the mild rebuke, and she patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Maybe Miss Margaret will let me bake some more when we get home.”
The grin returned to his face as he bounced to the front door and disappeared inside after his sister. Minutes later they returned, Joel clutching a cookie. He held it up where Margaret and Andrew could see it. “I didn’t ask for it. He just gived it to me.”
When Margaret and Andrew finally convinced Joel to leave Buck behind, the four of them headed toward the store. As they neared the building, Grant Cowling stepped to the open door. “You hear the news?” he asked, wiping his hands down the front of his apron.
Margaret stepped past him into the store. “What news?” After a scan of the interior, she was relieved to see they were the only patrons at the moment. She still had a dread that the Stedman woman might return, but she couldn’t imagine Grant being so cheerful if she had.
He glanced at the two children standing by her side. “You kids can go get a pickle from the barrel, if it’s all right with Miss Margaret.” He nodded toward the oak barrel ringed with metal bands standing in the corner.
After a nod from Margaret they scurried happily away.
Andrew stepped up beside Margaret. “Something happen?”
Grant dropped his voice and kept an eye on the corner. “Yep. Sheriff Bryant says he thinks they’ll get a conviction on the murder charge brung against Robert Ludlow.”
Andrew nodded solemnly. “That’s good news, all right.” He slipped an arm through Margaret’s and sent her a long, tender look. “Besides, now the sheriff won’t have cause to question Joel anymore.” He turned and scanned the store. “What about Donnie? I’ve been worried about him, ever since he tried to put the blame on me for Jenkins’ murder and tried to draw Margaret into that mess.”
Love Finds You in Bridal Veil, Oregon Page 27