“This is him?” Whit asked.
“Yeah, but just barely. He doesn’t usually look like this.”
“Go piss yourself, Duncan.”
“You have your own experience with that? Well, your wealthy benefactor is off to the county jail in Portland, and it looks like you’ll be following him.”
“For what? Selling whiskey?”
Whit said, “If I wanted to make a point, I could. Manufacturing alcohol is illegal, in case you hadn’t heard. But this is for first-degree manslaughter. This isn’t whiskey, and you know it.”
He actually had the nerve to look insulted. “There’s nothing wrong with it!”
“Really? Let’s see you drink some of it. I’ll go into the barn and find it for you.”
He grumbled but didn’t say anything more.
“Okay, Paul,” Whit called to the farmer. “Thanks for your help.”
The man raised a hand in farewell, and they loaded Breninger into the back of the Ford.
“Amy?”
She stood in the kitchen and was surprised to hear Bax’s voice coming from the living room. This was the second time now that he’d used the front door.
She met him in the dining room. He looked so handsome standing there, dark hair and lashes, long legs in jeans that fit him so well it should be a crime to look that good. He was the same as always, and yet not. Something was different. “Hi, Bax.” She felt a little bashful around him now that she’d admitted to herself that she loved him. But now there was that other problem, the matter of her marriage. Or nonmarriage. And that weighed heavily upon her.
“How is your arm?” he asked.
“It’s going to be a long three weeks. It’s hard trying to do things with just my right arm, although if I had to break anything, I’m glad it wasn’t that one.”
He lifted his face slightly and sniffed. “Is that coffee I smell?”
“It’s just ready now.”
“Come on. I have something to tell you.”
She held back and felt her smile fade. “Bad?”
He grinned at her. “I can see why you might think so, considering everything that’s happened. But no, you’ll like this.”
Intrigued, she followed him into the kitchen.
“Go on, sit down,” he said. “I’ll get the coffee. Some for you, too, right?”
Without waiting for her answer, he grabbed two cups from the pile of clean dishes draining beside the sink. “How are you washing this stuff?”
She pulled out a chair and sighed. “One at a time. It’s slow business.”
“I’ll try to help.” He poured their coffee and put the pot on a trivet that sat on the table.
“Never mind about that now. What’s your news?”
“We’ve got Milo Breninger sitting in jail.”
“Oh! You caught him!” she crowed.
“For manslaughter, yes. And if you’re willing to press charges, we can slap him with blackmail too.”
“I certainly will. You should, as well.”
His smile faded. “That brings me to my other news.” He looked so serious, her heart dropped and she put down the cream pitcher.
“Bad?” she repeated. She couldn’t help her pessimism. Things had gone well lately, but other things had gone so horribly wrong she didn’t know what to expect next.
Briefly, he held up a hand. “The day I came home and found Jacobsen here, I meant to tell you then. That was why I’d dropped by in the middle of the day. But when I got here, well, you know better than anyone what happened next.”
She watched his face, but didn’t say anything.
“Anyway, ever since prison and being banished from my family’s home, I’ve felt like I had a sign hanging around my neck, telling everyone what had happened to me.”
Amy knew that feeling. Very well.
“When I came to Powell Springs and got this job, I really felt like things were turning around for me. I was respected again and people didn’t know what had happened to me at the end of the war.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Then Milo Breninger showed up.”
Guilt swamped Amy. “He showed up because of me. Adam hired him to find me. And he found you.”
He waved that off. “It was such a long shot. Really, what were the chances that Jacobsen would hire the very same bastard who knew me too, and send him to a small town in East Multnomah County? A million to one. A billion.”
“Maybe.”
“Breninger isn’t just greedy. He’s vindictive too. In that way, those two men are alike.”
She exhaled. It was true. Revenge was a big part of what they did.
“So, the new life I was just getting started, the honorable one, looked like it was about to fall down around my ankles when he showed up. And the chances were slim to none that he should have found me.” He dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. “But sometimes bad luck just sticks to a person like flypaper. You know what happened next.”
“Oh, Bax,” she mourned.
“But the reason that I came home that day was to tell you that Whit heard from the War Department.”
She sat up straighter. “And?”
“The charges and the imprisonment are still on my military record. So is the sentence. That’s not going to change. But they show that I was released early due to some vague reason. Anyway, it was good enough for Whit.”
“I’m so glad for you.”
“You’re not the only one.” He stirred his coffee. “I didn’t tell you sooner because I was worried about what people would think if they learned of it. But after everything that’s happened, I realized it doesn’t matter. I’ve been dragging that anchor around with me for long enough.”
“Is that the reason you’ve started using the front door?”
He put his elbows on the table and folded his hands under his chin. “I didn’t think you’d remember I said that. Yeah, it is. I suppose it was dumb, but I couldn’t make myself do it before. I wasn’t, well, good enough I suppose.”
Not good enough. She thought for a moment before she responded. “I think we all have our reasons for doing things or feeling a particular way. They might not always be logical reasons, but it can be hard to overcome them.” She gazed off to the yard beyond the back porch windows.
He tipped his head and studied her face. “Has something new happened?”
“Hmm? No, not really.” She turned her eyes toward him again. “I went to the hotel to see Tabitha Pratt. I asked her if she’d like to board here instead of going back to Portland. She said what little family she has there won’t be thrilled to see her again.”
A slight frown crossed his forehead. “I didn’t realize you’re still going to take in boarders.”
“Well, yes. You and I can’t live here alone. People will make all sorts of wrong assumptions. Then, I need the income to pay the taxes on this house and so on. I came back to Powell Springs to make a new life for myself too. Since Adam and that odious Breninger are out of the picture, I won’t have to look over my shoulder every time I step outside.”
“But, I thought—I was hoping—” He stared at her.
“What?”
“Nothing. I have to get back to work. I’ve left Whit with most of the job lately.” He stood up and took his coffee cup to the sink. Then he turned and headed for the front door. “I’ll see you later.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next couple of weeks between Amy and Bax were oddly tense. She caught him watching her when he didn’t think she knew it. The friendly give-and-take they had enjoyed devolved to the stiffer, more curt relationship of their early days. He still went to Mae’s to pick up their meals for them, which she appreciated enormously. Otherwise he retreated to his bedroom or disappeared for hours at a time and she didn’t know where he was.
Tabitha Pratt, whose
companionship she had been hoping for, finally arrived at the decision to return to Portland. She’d talked to her family and they were already aware of what had happened to her. It was disastrous, but they urged her to come home. She thanked Amy for her generous, kindhearted offer, explaining that in times of trouble, family, complete with foibles and missteps, was the most important safe harbor a person could have.
Her observation made Amy’s heart clench. Now that she’d worked to discourage Bax, she had only an unhappy boarder and a still-offended family. Jessica had been wonderful about taking care of her, but although she saw Cole working in his blacksmith shop now and then, he wouldn’t even make eye contact with her. She couldn’t blame him, but it was uncomfortable just the same.
But before Tabitha left, Amy asked if she would stop by so that they might say a proper good-bye. The afternoon her train was leaving, Tabitha rang her doorbell again.
Amy answered the door and smiled when she saw her on her porch. “Do come in, Tabitha. There is no one here this time.” Tabitha smiled back, and Amy noticed that her sling was missing. “Your arm is better.”
“Yes, thank heavens.” She stepped into the entryway. “Being a one-winged bird makes for difficult flying.”
Amy almost laughed. “That’s certainly true. I’m getting really tired of this, but my sister tells me she can take it off later this afternoon. I’ll be her last patient of the day.”
The other woman, dressed in a lovely French blue suit, bone shoes and gloves, and a stylish hat decorated with a silk hydrangea, took Amy’s hand in her own. “I want to thank you again for your courtesy. We’re in such a peculiar situation, you and I. I truly doubt that many people have found themselves faced with something quite like this.”
“I spoke with my attorney a couple of weeks ago. I—I discovered that I wasn’t married to Adam either.”
Tabitha’s jaw fell. “Sweet Adeline!”
Briefly, Amy explained the highlights of her wedding. “I was young and foolish, and it didn’t even occur to me at the time, or until Mr. Parmenter mentioned it, that I’d never seen or signed a license or a certificate. Nothing.”
“We are two smart women. I cannot believe we were both duped by a man who, frankly, was nothing remarkable. It’s been a very humbling experience.”
Amy couldn’t help but laugh. “I will miss you, Tabitha. I really will. And now for the real reason I asked you over. I have a little celebration for us both.”
Tabitha looked intrigued, but a bit wary. Amy couldn’t blame her. So far a couple of really bad things had happened to her in this house. “That day, Adam brought his suitcase with him. He was planning to just move in.”
Tabitha shook her head at his gall.
“In the chaos, I completely forgot about it until I found it in the hall closet yesterday. I looked through it. There wasn’t much in it except his clothes, and this.” Amy extended her good hand to show her a wad of cash.
Her eyes dilated. “Goodness, how much is that?”
“Eight thousand dollars. Now, I suppose if I were feeling altruistic, I would turn this over to the authorities. But they don’t know about it, and I decided there is a charity that would put it to better use: Former Wives of Jacobsen-Monroe. Come over here.”
Amy walked to the dining room with Tabitha following. With her to witness, Amy counted out the money, eighty one-hundred-dollar bills, and gave her half. “I hate to make you carry this on the train. Put it somewhere safe.”
Tabitha stared at the cash. “I-I don’t know what to say. This means so much. It will make such a difference.”
“I think so too. Even though he never would have wanted to, Adam is helping us, even as he sits in jail.” She put an arm around the former Mrs. Monroe and gave her a hug. Tabitha tucked the money into her purse.
“I’ll find a better place for it when I stop by the hotel to check out.”
“All right. And now, if you’re interested, there’s one more thing for us to do. We need to go out to the backyard.”
This time Tabitha didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”
Amy led the way down the stairs and out to the burn pile in the corner of the backyard. She had already stoked the fire and set out a can of kerosene a safe distance from the heat.
A pile of clothes was heaped beside an expensive leather suitcase. “Are you interested?” Amy asked.
Tabitha picked up a monogrammed shirt. “Definitely. I gave him this. I get to go first.” Amy hadn’t even noticed the different initials. Tabitha threw it into the flames.
“He always got to wear much better clothes than I did. How could I have been so stupid?” Amy wondered again.
“The time for self-recrimination has passed, Amy. Build that bonfire.”
They each tossed items onto pile. When the flames began to smother under the fabric, she poured kerosene at the base and the fire sprang to life again.
“Oh, dear,” Amy laughed when they were finished, “I’m afraid we’re going to smell like smoke.”
“It was worth it. This is the best day I’ve had in six months. What about the suitcase? Do you think it will catch?”
“We’ll make sure it does.” Together, they threw it on top of the mound. The fire roared to life by itself, as if hell had opened a trapdoor to help.
At last they reached the end of their fuel. “Well, I know I feel better,” Tabitha said. “It won’t be easy going back, but thanks to you, I have some freedom now.” She studied the almost healed bruise on Amy’s chin. “You know, that Baxter is a very nice man. And he cares about you a lot.”
Startled, she asked, “How do you know?”
“I wasn’t unconscious that day in your sister’s office. I saw the way he looked at you and hovered around you.” She put a hand on Amy’s good arm, and the sun fell gently upon their shoulders. “If you are condemning yourself for the same reason I did, stop it. I realized that none of this was my fault. I was told what I believed to be the truth, as you were. My family even approved. We have a long time left on this earth, God willing, and what’s the point of wasting it by regretting the past? We need to move forward, move on. Really good men don’t come along more than once or twice in a lifetime. Believe me, I know. I’m still waiting to meet one of my own.”
Amy’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and she nodded, unable to speak for a moment.
Tabitha added, “Your roses are lovely, by the way. I’m no expert, but I know quality when I see it.”
Amy arrived at Jessica’s office at four thirty, enough time, she believed, to have her splint removed and to take care of one other piece of business. The waiting room was empty and she could hear the voices coming up the hallway.
“All right, Barbara. Take this prescription to the pharmacy and we’ll get this thyroid problem under control.”
“But pig thyroid?” Barbara sounded doubtful.
“It’s the most up-to-date treatment available. It’s a tremendous advancement. You’ll lose weight, be warmer, and generally feel much better.”
“Thank you, Dr. Layton.”
“Check back with me in a couple of weeks to let me know how you’re feeling. If you have any trouble, get in touch with me sooner.”
Barbara, a woman Amy didn’t know, walked through the waiting room, heavyset with a puffy face. When the door closed behind her, Jessica came out and said, “Ready to get that thing off?”
“Dear God, yes. But before we do that, I was wondering if we could talk for a minute.”
“Well, sure, okay. Come to the back.”
“Is Cole working next door?”
“Yes, I think so. Why?”
“Do you think he would come over too?”
Jessica winced. “I don’t know, Amy. I’m not sure he’s ready to listen to anything.”
Amy gave her an importuning look.
“All right. I�
��ll try. But I can’t promise.”
She went out the front door, and Amy sat down to wait and to work up a case of nerves that turned her hands icy and made her insides jump. This would not be easy. After what seemed like an hour, she heard voices outside the door, her sister’s and the low, grumbling tones of a man. She took a deep breath and stood.
Cole gave her a look that could have dropped her like a deer rifle. He stood in a defensive position, with his arms crossed.
“I’m sorry to drag you away from your work, Cole.” He just stared at her.
And so she began. “In 1917, I did a horrible, horrible thing. I tried to separate you two with a calculating lie, and I almost succeeded. I’m so glad that ultimately, I failed.”
She took a deep breath and went on. “Jess, I was always closer to our mother than you were, just like you were more of a daddy’s girl. Mama taught me to cook and keep house, to sew, to do all the things a woman is expected to know to make a good wife. I didn’t know how to do anything else. Mama raised me to be just like her—useful, domestic, modest, and ladylike. When she died, I felt so lost, so alone. I’m not blaming you now, but I used to. You had a better connection with our father, with your interest in science and all that. Compared to me, I thought you were wild and anything but ladylike. You liked catching bugs and studying pond water under Father’s microscope. I was left out.” She looked at Cole and felt her face flame under his stern, unforgiving glare that made this confession no easier. “And you had Cole, even from the time we were schoolgirls. I always had a crush on you,” she said to him. “When Adam caught you two down by the creek in the grass, fooling around, and told his own father, I thought for sure that Daddy would lower the boom on you. But he didn’t. He just got mad at Adam and his father for making too much of what you had done.”
“I was in trouble with Daddy. So was Cole. He just didn’t want those busybody Jacobsens to know,” Jessica said.
Cole shifted his weight from one hip to the other as if it were all he could do to stand here and listen to her. “Are we going to get to the point of all this pretty soon? I have work to do.”
The Fire of Home (A Powell Springs Novel) Page 22