“What? So you can blab it all over town?” Matt pressed his knees against his horse’s sides and urged the horse forward.
Jesse rode to his side. “I won’t blab,” he said. “Honest!” When Matt didn’t respond, Jesse tried another tactic. “I won’t even tell anyone that you like Mrs. Blackwell. Or that she likes you, too.”
“I told you…” Steering his horse with one hand, Matt eyed the boy with curiosity.“What makes you think she likes me?”
“She looked like she was going to punch you. That’s how girls show they like someone. A girl named Becky keeps hitting me on the arm. That’s cuz she likes me.”
Matt laughed without mirth. Oh, to be that young and naive again.
Jesse frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“Trust me,” Matt said, alarmed to find himself wishing that what Jesse said was true. “Mrs. Blackwell might have wanted to punch me, but it sure in blazes wasn’t because she likes me.”
“Oh, she likes you all right.” A know-it-all smile curved Jesse’s mouth. “Sometimes things really are what they seem.”
With a whoop and a holler, Jesse waved his hat over his head and spurred his horse into a gallop. Against his better judgment, Matt gave chase.
* * *
Ellie-May waited until the children were asleep that night before donning her shawl and stepping onto the porch. Earlier, she’d fetched a crowbar from the toolshed and now held it tightly gripped in both hands.
The air was still, and the countless stars splattered across the moonless sky appeared to be eyes gazing down on her. Some blinked, some stared, but she imagined all were critical.
The memory of accusatory eyes that had followed her all through childhood made her more determined than ever to go through with her plan. Never would she let her children suffer the way she had suffered. Never must they hang their heads in shame or be made to feel inferior or in some way lacking.
She craned her neck to make sure the upstairs barn window was dark before dropping to her knees. It wouldn’t do for Anvil to catch her pulling the step apart.
Light fanned across the porch from the open doorway, barely illuminating the middle step. Hesitating, she assured herself she was doing the right thing. At last, the money would be returned to its rightful owner, and her children would never know what their father had done. No one would ever be the wiser.
With a new sense of determination, she set to work. Wedging the V end of the crowbar under the lip of the step, she exerted power with her shoulders and arms.
Anvil had been the last to hammer the tread in place, but it was the memory of Matt that came to mind. Matt measuring the tread. Matt hammering the nails in place, the muscles rippling beneath his shirt. Matt holding her in his arms.
Matt’s kiss…
Startled by the intensity of the last memory, she pushed her thoughts away and applied all the force she could to the end of the crowbar. The man had used her. Worse, used her children, and she’d best not forget it.
In the quiet of night, the sound of ripping wood seemed uncommonly loud. Pausing, she swiped a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes and glanced toward the barn to make sure there was no movement. No light shone from the loft window, and all was quiet. Sighing in relief, she set to work again.
It took longer than she’d thought it would to pry the tread off the riser, but at last the wood came free.
She set the crowbar down and rubbed her sore hands together. Telling herself that this whole nightmare would soon be over and she would never again have to think about the stolen money or worry about protecting Neal’s reputation, she reached into the gaping, dark hole. Patting the ground with her hand, she felt for the rawhide tie and couldn’t find it.
She drew her hand out of the hole and wiped the dirt off on her apron. Standing, she carefully stepped over the missing tread and went inside to fetch a lantern.
Moments later, she held the lantern in such a way as to illuminate the entire area beneath the porch.
As she drew back in disbelief, her jaw dropped. It couldn’t be. Oh, no, please, God, no. The gunnysack couldn’t be gone!
24
Doc Avery opened the door to Matt’s knock, and his gray eyes lit up beneath his bushy white eyebrows. “Come in, come in.”
“Sorry to bother you so early,” Matt said.
“No bother,” the doctor said, leading the way into a small, crowded room. Shelves crammed with books lined two of the four walls. A Penn Medical University degree was displayed in a gold frame and hung next to the open window.
Doc Avery motioned Matt over to a leather chair and took his own place behind a weathered oak desk piled high with unopened mail and periodicals. “Hope all is well and this isn’t a medical call.”
“Not exactly,” Matt said.
The doctor raised an eyebrow, and his white mustache twitched. “Anvil recovered from the snakebite?”
“Far as I know.” After a pause, Matt added, “I’m here because of Jesse James.”
“Ah, Jesse. How is the lad?” the doctor asked. “Nothing wrong, I hope.”
“He was thrown from a horse,” Matt said. “He has a nasty bump on the head but seems to have recovered with no problems.”
“I’ll be glad to look at him if you like.”
“Much obliged, but that’s not the only reason I’m here. Since I’ve been in town, Jesse’s been more or less under my”—he’d almost said foot—“wing.”
The doctor nodded in approval. “It’s good to hear that someone is looking out for him.”
“It wasn’t as if I had a choice,” Matt said. “The thing is, I’m not gonna be in town much longer, and I’m worried about him. I thought about asking Ellie-May…Mrs. Blackwell to keep an eye on him, but she already has her hands full.” He didn’t mention that as far as Ellie-May was concerned, his name was Mudd and she never wanted to see him again. It was a depressing thought.
The doctor leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll look in on him from time to time. See that he eats proper. That sort of thing.”
“That’ll be a big help,” Matt said. “Just so you know, he’s got the appetite of a bear.”
The doctor chuckled. “They used to say the same about me, and I was skinny as a toothpick. Now I eat like a bird and look at me.” He patted his rounded belly. “Speaking of Mrs. Blackwell, I’m glad to hear Anvil’s recovered. You never know how those snakebites will turn out. He’s been a real blessing to her since her husband died.”
“So I gathered.” Matt balanced his hat on his knee. “How long did you know him?”
“Anvil?”
“Blackwell.”
The doctor pursed his lips. “Long enough to know he was the finest man I ever had the privilege of knowing. How does that old saying go? Never judge a man till you’ve seen him with a woman, a child, and a stubborn mule? I saw him with all three, and he passed each test, hands down.”
“I heard he did a lot of good for this town,” Matt said.
“That he did. A pity the way it turned out. Did everything I could, but his lungs just couldn’t take all that smoke.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I sure do give his missus credit, though. She’s kept the farm going and is determined to do right by her young’uns.”
“I agree,” Matt said. The mere mention of Ellie-May brought back another round of painful memories, and he hungered for the feel of her, the scent of her, the taste of her. Suddenly aware that he’d missed something the doctor had said, he leaned forward. “I’m sorry?”
“I was just asking when I can see Jesse. I have some free time this afternoon.”
“I’ll make sure he gets here,” Matt said.
The doctor nodded. “Is there anything more I can do for you? Besides checking in on Jesse when you’re gone, I mean?”
“Maybe I can persuade him to go back to school,” the doctor said. “Now that there are two classrooms, he can be with children his own age.”
“Good luck,” Matt said. He hated adding to the doctor’s burdens, but he really didn’t know who else to turn to. “His pa… Is there nothing that can be done for him?”
Dr. Avery folded his hands on his desk. “You mean…?”
“He seems bound and determined to drink himself to death.”
The doctor let out a long sigh. “He blames himself for his wife’s death. I’ve told him it wasn’t his fault, but it’s like talking to a lamppost.”
“Why do people do that?” Matt asked, thinking about his brother. “Take on blame for things that aren’t necessarily their fault?”
“Well, I’m not an alienist,” Avery said, referring to the specialists who dealt with mental illnesses. “If you ask me, all this recent talk about so-called mental alienations is a bunch of hogwash. But from what I’ve observed in my practice, some people do have the need to punish themselves.”
Matt rubbed his chin. Was that why Charley had alienated himself from family and friends and turned to a life of crime? To punish himself for Pa’s death? Did he not think he deserved a better life? A better future?
“As for the drinking…” The doctor paused for a moment. “There is a method that has shown promise.”
Matt sat back in his chair. “Oh?”
The doctor stabbed a medical journal on his desk with his finger and explained. “There’re some in the medical community who think dipsomania should be considered a disease and not a vice.”
Matt frowned. “How can imbibing be a disease?”
“It sounds crazy, I know. But it’s not the actual drinking that’s the problem: it’s the craving for it. That’s what makes some people think it should be treated medically.”
“But how?” Matt asked. “Don’t tell me you know of some magical potion that can cure the problem?”
“Cure? No. But some people have been able to control their drinking by staying at an inebriate home.”
Matt shook his head. “Never heard of such a thing.”
“They’ve been around for a while. At least fifty years or so, but they’re only now becoming more widespread.” The doctor tossed a nod at the journal on his desk. “According to the article I read, it’s all done with mutual aid. These homes bring a bunch of drunks together, and they help each other stay sober.”
Matt frowned as he tried to imagine such a thing. “Does it work?”
The doctor shrugged. “Some say it does. Only one way to find out. I’ve been toying with the idea of opening up a place like that here in Haywire.”
“Oh?”
Doc Avery nodded. “Been thinking about it for a while. The drought has caused financial burdens that have driven some men to drink. You may have inspired me to actually put the idea of an inebriate home into practice.” He paused for a moment. “Do you think we can convince James to move into it?”
Matt turned the idea over in his mind before answering. “Don’t know. But it’s worth a try for the boy’s sake.” He didn’t have a lot of confidence in the doctor’s proposal, but who knew? Maybe something good would come of it. “How long would it take to put something like that together?”
The doctor thought for a moment. “Not long. I’ve got a spare room in back, but I can’t take more than three or four at a time.”
Matt stood, donned his hat, and reached across the desk to shake the doctor’s hand. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You figure out a way to get James here, and I’ll handle the rest.”
“Sounds like a task for the Texas Rangers,” Matt said with a grin.
Doc Avery made a face. “Knowing James, you might also want to call in the cavalry.”
* * *
Ellie-May had hardly slept that night and had gotten up feeling tired and out of sorts. All she’d been able to think about was the missing gunnysack. She was so deep in thought, she’d burned the first batch of flapjacks and had to start over.
“Alicia, where’s your brother?” she asked. “His breakfast is getting cold.”
Alicia looked up from the table, fork in hand. “He went to feed the animals. It’s his turn this week.”
Ellie-May frowned. “He’s been gone for a good long while.”
Anvil entered the kitchen to help himself to another cup of coffee. He waved his hand through the blue haze in the air. “What happened in here?”
Alicia wrinkled her nose. “Mama burned the flapjacks.”
“My mind was on Lionel,” Ellie-May said by way of explanation. “Have you seen him? It’s his turn to feed the animals.”
Anvil shook his head. “Sorry, no. Maybe he snuck out to go fishing.” He reached for the metal coffeepot on the stove and filled his cup. “You know how that boy likes to fish since he got that new fishing pole.”
Ellie-May did know. Lionel loved his fishing pole and had already caught several good-sized bass. Thinking about it only reminded her that Matt had used her son—had used both her children—to worm his way into her heart, hoping she would reveal the truth about Neal.
Pushing through the hurtful memories that thoughts of Matt now triggered, she studied Anvil with questioning eyes. She was dying to talk to him about the missing money, but it would have to wait until they were alone. He was the only one who could have moved it—no one else.
“Lionel knows better than to take off on a school day,” she said.
Anvil shrugged. “Do you want me to go and look for him?”
Ellie-May thought for a moment before shaking her head. “I’d rather that you took Alicia to school. No sense them both being late, and Lionel hasn’t eaten yet.” It would serve him right if she sent him to school hungry.
Anvil drained his coffee cup and set it in the sink. “Ready, Alicia?”
“Ready.” Jumping up from the table, Alicia grabbed the leather strap holding her schoolbooks together and dashed out of the room.
Anvil turned to follow but stopped at the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “You okay? You don’t seem like your usual bright self.”
Ellie-May moistened her lips. “When you get back, we need to talk.”
He raised a questioning brow. “Sounds serious.” He waited for her to explain. When she failed to do so, he shrugged his shoulders and left.
The moment she was alone, she cleared the few dirty dishes from the table. Usually, concentrating on mundane chores relaxed her, but not today. Thoughts of Matt, Neal, and the missing money popped in her head like kernels of heated corn.
The table cleared, she glanced out the kitchen window. Lionel had still not returned. She had fully expected him to come running into the house when he’d heard the horse and wagon take off. Why hadn’t he?
Leaving the dishes in the sink, she yanked off her apron and tossed it on a chair. He better not have gone fishing. She stepped outside. Shading her eyes with her hand against the bright morning sun, she scanned the yard. “Lionel!” she called.
She checked the chicken coop first, and the hens had not been fed. She then walked to the barn, and the cow’s trough was empty. That was odd.
She walked outside again and checked behind the barn. Lionel’s fishing pole was on the ground. Frowning, she stooped to pick it up and stood it against the side of the barn.
Lionel was not one to be careless with his belongings. Nor was he one to neglect his chores. So why had the animals no
t been fed? And what had made him drop his beloved fishing pole?
More worried now than irritated, Ellie-May circled the barn again, calling Lionel’s name. Something was seriously wrong. She felt it all the way to her bones.
25
Matt left the doctor’s office deep in thought. He had no idea how to persuade James to stay at the doc’s inebriate house, but he had to give it a try. For Jesse’s sake.
Though it was still early morning, he had intended to head straight for the Wandering Dog Saloon to confront James. But upon noticing several horsemen gathered in front of the sheriff’s office, he changed his mind. It sure did look like the sheriff was putting together a posse.
Dodging around a horse-drawn wagon, Matt jogged across the street and reached the office just as the sheriff walked outside. “What’s going on?” he asked.
The sheriff strode past him to his horse before answering. “We have reason to believe Roberts is still in the area.”
“Oh?”
The sheriff mounted his saddle before explaining. “Roberts broke into the Peterson farm and helped himself to their pantry.”
Matt’s stomach clenched. If he remembered correctly, the Peterson farm was only about a mile from Ellie-May’s. “What makes you think it was Roberts?”
“Oh, it was him, all right,” Keeler said. “Peterson spotted him trying to steal a horse and scared him off.”
“Think he’s still around?”
The sheriff shrugged. “No horse thefts have been reported. Far as we know, he’s still on foot. Care to join us?”
Surprised by the invitation, Matt nodded. “I’ll catch up.”
The sheriff took off without another word and led his posse out of town in a cloud of dust and the sound of thunderous hooves.
Watching the group ride away, Matt’s mind whirled. If Roberts was still in the area, it could mean only one thing. He had no intention of leaving until he had the stolen money in hand. If the money was at the Blackwell farm as Matt suspected, Ellie-May and her children could be in danger.
He spun about and ran for his horse. Moments later, he raced out of town, heart pounding.
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