She smiled at him, hoping she sent encouragement. “I’ll stay out here this time so I appear business-like. I’m here officially representing the Gazette. I want to get your side of the story for tomorrow’s edition.”
“I hope that means you’ll be back unofficially.”
“If you wish.” She cleared her throat. “Mr. Pearson, lead me through last night’s events.”
“Certainly, Miss Taber. I enjoyed the church social so much on Sunday, I decided I’d go to the Lodge and get reacquainted with friends. Neither my father nor grandfather was in the mood to go, so I went alone.”
Hearing him say he’d enjoyed the time they spent together on Sunday boosted her mood. “How long does it take you to ride to and from the Lodge in town?
“Just under half an hour at a trot. Our ranch is five miles from town.”
“So you rode in and met up with friends?”
“Yes, I arrived about half past seven. Ron Novak saw me and gestured for me to join him. I did and we each bought a beer. We found a table and Jeff joined us. We were having a pleasant conversation and catching up on events since I’d been gone. Ron and I are the same age, and went to school together.”
At nineteen, her brother was four years younger than Trey and Ron. “I guess Jeff seems too young to hang out with you and Ron.”
“No, not at all. Jeff’s easygoing. I imagine he fits in with people of any age. I was enjoying myself. The three of us were engrossed in our discussion of mundane things when Eric Barton showed up beside me. This was about eight o’clock. He was argumentative and looking for a fight. I had no intention of being lured into a fight inside the Lodge or anywhere else. I told Ron and Jeff I’d see them another time but that I was going home. That’s what I did.”
“Admirable. What happened after that?”
“I rode home, groomed my horse, washed up and then went into the house. I went in through the kitchen and spoke with our housekeeper, who was there drinking a glass of milk. My folks were in the parlor so I went there, sat down, and talked to them for quite a while. My grandparents had decided to go to bed when Virgil and Milton arrived.”
“Oh no, I’ll bet that was a surprise.” Oops, she’d forgotten to remain impartial.
“You’re right. Deuce—you know that’s what we call my father—was in favor of us forting up there against any trouble. Virgil pointed out I could be picked off by a marksman anytime I was out of the house or even near a window. He said the only way I’d be safe was in his custody until the hotheads cooled. I agreed even though I sure hated to come to jail. I’d just returned home and within a week I’m in here.”
“People may recall you had fights with Eric and others when you were in school. Do you think that will hurt your defense?”
“That was six years ago before I went away to university. That and working for my grandfather has made me grow up. I don’t fight any longer.”
He gripped the bars. “I’m not saying I can’t fight if the need arises, but it would require a threat to someone where I had to defend myself and them.”
“Is there anything else you’d like included in the article?”
“That I’m innocent. I did not shoot either man.” His words and tone were emphatic.
Oh, how she wanted to believe him. She closed her notebook. “Thank you for giving me an interview.”
He gestured around him. “Hey, I don’t have a choice.”
She grinned. “I won’t include that the cell door is unlocked and you could walk out anytime you wish.”
“Thank you. In spite of the fact duty brought you, I’m glad you came.”
“Do you need anything? Books or snacks or magazines?”
“Books would be great. I’ve almost finished this one.” He reached behind him to his cot then displayed a copy of Anna Karenina. “Before this, I’d read Les Miserables. I’d kind of like something a little… um, happier. Since I’m in a heap of trouble, a more optimistic or even humorous book would be welcome.”
“Both of those you mentioned are wonderful books but… not cheerful. Do you like Jules Verne? Mark Twain?”
“Truthfully, I haven’t read either.”
She gave an elaborate gasp. “Here I thought you had a classic education and I learn you missed key elements. I’ll bring you one of each author.”
He reached through the bars and clasped her fingers. “Thank you, Miss Taber.”
“At the box social we agreed you’d call me Deborah, remember?”
He stood at attention. “That was when you were being yourself. Now you’re an official representative of The Pearson Grove Gazette so I figured I’d better be formal.” His blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
“My father is waiting on these stories so I need to get them written and given to him. I’ll return another time, armed with books.”
Deborah strode with purpose even though she would have preferred remaining to talk longer to Trey. Once again she thought of her poor brother lying unconscious in his bed.
Dear Lord, bless my brother Jeff and send Your healing to him. Guide Virgil so he can capture the killer without anyone else being harmed. Amen.
Chapter Five
Virgil and Milton had spent the day talking to people. That evening, Virgil went to his in-laws’ home to talk to them in private.
Lula opened the door with a saucy grin. “Well, if it isn’t the famous sheriff. Come to arrest anyone?”
“Maybe. You been up to more meanness?”
“Nothing more than usual.” She stood aside to admit him.
“Come in, son.” Byron peered behind Virgil. “Isn’t Alexandra with you?”
Virgil wasn’t completely comfortable in the Novak’s fancy home, even though they gave him no reason not to be. “She said her head hurt and she wanted to lie down. I tucked her into bed and prepared a damp cloth for her eyes.”
Lula tucked her arm into his elbow. “That was sweet.”
Ron added, “She’s troubled by headaches and has been most of her life.”
Virgil’s father-in-law gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. Alyssa’s gone upstairs also. We can’t get Lula away from her book but Ron and I were considering a game of pool. You interested?”
“Another time I sure would be. I don’t intend to stay long enough tonight. I need to talk to you about what went on at the Lodge last night. I understand you were both there.”
Ron glanced at his father then leaned forward. “We were. I sat with Jeff and Trey. We were having a pleasant evening and minding our own business until Eric came over and started trouble. Anyway, I guess you know what happened after that.”
“Yeah, but I’ve wondered who left the Lodge before Eric?”
Byron rubbed at his jaw. “You mean other than Trey? Let me think… Jack Bolton, Norris Kirby, Claude Miller.” He looked at his son. “You think of any others?”
“The preacher and Ulys Baker are all I remember. I was facing away from the door. Jeff sat so he faced the door. If… when he comes to, he’ll be able to tell you. Guess Trey could see the comings and goings, too. He’d left a long time before the shooting.”
“How long?”
“I’d say close to thirty minutes. Eric was steaming mad. Jeff tried to calm him down but Eric only got angrier. Those rotten so-called friends of his were pushing him to get revenge. Eric said Trey stole his girl at the box social.”
Lula looked up from her book. “Deborah? Pffft, he was dreaming. Deborah Taber wouldn’t give Eric Barton the time of day. She’s mentioned Eric was a terrible bully in school and picked on her and others.”
Ron nodded. “That’s true. I think he was too stupid to know how to talk to a girl. His efforts at attracting them had the opposite effect. Anyway, Trey told him not to speak a lady’s name where alcohol was served.”
Virgil raised his eyebrows. “Whew, I imagine that poured oil on the fire.”
“Sure did. Trey was calm and controlled, didn’t even raise his voice, but he got his message across.”
Ron ran his hands through his hair. “Here Jeff was trying to calm Eric and others were telling him not to let some rich outsider talk to him that way.”
“What did you do?”
“I stayed out of it because Eric disliked me as much as he did Trey. Jeff would have succeeded without those rabble-rousers.”
Virgil stood and thumped his hat against his leg. “No doubt the same ones who wanted to form vigilantes and ride to Pearson Ranch and ‘string up’ Trey. I don’t understand mobs. Some of those same men would be against such action if they were separated from one another. Well, you think of anything else, you let me know. Believe I’ll go on home and check on my wife.”
***
The next morning after the breakfast dishes were done, Deborah donned her white organza dress with a windowpane pattern in purple. Her mother sent her a glare but didn’t waste words. After selecting several books, she peeked into Jeff’s room again.
“I’ll be back in plenty of time to make lunch.”
Before her mother could rattle off questions, Deborah was out the door. Normally, her mother was sweet and good-natured. Having Jeff so badly injured had changed her entirely.
At the jail, Deborah discovered Virgil and Milton had already left and Fire Chief Claud Miller and the gunsmith Arthur Wallis were filling in as deputies today. She greeted each of them and stopped when she realized the Pearson family was visiting. She would have left but Trey spotted her.
“Deborah, you brought books. Any change in Jeff?”
Shyly, she approached the cell. “Not so far.”
The door was open and his father and grandfather stood inside. The two ladies stood outside the bars.
Trey’s mother hugged her. “We appreciate the article you wrote for today’s paper.”
“I just reported what your son told me.”
His grandmother started to hug her but the younger Pearson woman stopped her. “Marianne, you have a needle and some pins in your lapel.”
Marianne Pearson laughed. “So I do. We were making quilt blocks and I have a bad habit of parking needles and pins there so they don’t get lost.”
Deborah smiled. “I understand. Mother and I were making quilt blocks a couple of days ago. She’s trying to work on them now but she’s having trouble concentrating.”
Marianne patted Deborah’s hand. “No wonder, poor lady. What quilt were you making?”
“A log cabin. We make two quilts a year to donate to those less fortunate in the fall. Pastor Patrick lets us know where the need is greatest. Our next will be a crazy quilt because they’re so much faster.”
“You donate them? What a kind thing to do, isn’t it Judith?”
Judith Pearson hugged Deborah’s shoulders again. “It certainly is. Perhaps you’ll come to the ranch sometime soon and let me show you our efforts. We have one that’s been in the Pearson family for over a hundred years that I’m sure you’d enjoy seeing. You could also see the new one we made for Trey.”
“How are you preserving the one that’s so old?”
Judith shook her head with a sad expression. “I’m afraid it’s not in good condition. For one thing, it was used as cover when it was new. Now that we consider it an heirloom, we try to keep it rolled so no new creases will wear in it.”
“If it’s narrow enough, you can put it between the mattress and a featherbed and that will keep it straight.”
“We could do that. Oh, do say you’ll come soon.”
“I-I’ll try.” She didn’t know how to reply. Were they being kind or was the invitation genuine?
Fortunately, Trey interrupted before his mother and grandmother could ask her anything else. “Mama, she came to bring me books.”
His mother sent him the same look her mother had used on her yesterday. “Don’t be selfish, Trey Pearson. We were just getting acquainted.”
She smiled at the other two women as she moved closer to the cell. “I brought Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea and Around the World in Eighty Days and Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer and The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County and Other Stories.” She passed each one through the bars.
He brushed her fingers as he took each book from her. She was certain he did so intentionally. “My parents brought Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy and Descent of Man by Charles Darwin.” He crossed his eyes at her.
She laughed. “Hopefully, you won’t be here long enough to get through the first book. In the meantime, I’d say you have a nice variety from which to choose.”
Mr. Barton, Eric’s father, stormed in. “Where’s the sheriff?”
The two elder Pearson men stepped from the cell and closed the door quietly.
Claud Miller stood and faced the shorter Barton. “The sheriff and his Chief Deputy are out searching for the man who killed your son and shot Jeff Taber.”
Mr. Barton’s face turned red. “What do you mean, searching for the man? He has him right here in a cell.”
“We don’t know who fired that shot, Mr. Barton, but we’re pretty certain it wasn’t Trey Pearson. Whoever is guilty, the sheriff knows his business and will find the real killer.”
Barton scanned the building then pointed toward Deborah. “There’s that Taber girl who wrote that silly story saying Pearson is innocent. That sorry newspaper is a disgrace to the community.”
The man’s abusive comments made Deborah see red. She strode right up to the bully. “I did not say whether Trey Pearson was or was not innocent. If you indeed read the article, you know I quoted Trey Pearson as saying he’s innocent. I report facts and quotes, Mr. Barton, I do not take sides even when I know someone is not guilty.”
She stepped closer and poked a finger in his face. “My father’s newspaper is as good as any in New York or Chicago. He is always fair. The only time he expresses an opinion is in an editorial. You can take your bullying and blustering home and think of someone else for a change. Have you forgotten your wife also lost a son and she needs her husband to comfort her?”
Shock registered on his face that turned even redder. He backed up a step. “You haven’t heard the last of this, none of you have.” He turned and stomped out, slamming the door.
Arthur Wallis wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. “Whew, you sure stood up to Barton.”
Deborah didn’t know where she’d gathered the nerve to do so. Her stomach roiled and she was overcome by nausea. She sank onto a chair, unsure her legs would support her. “I-I’ve never been so rude to anyone. I-I don’t quite know what came over me.”
The Fire Chief chuckled. “I’ll never forget the look on Barton’s face. He sure got his comeuppance.”
Deborah recovered enough to stand. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but it’s easy to see where Eric learned to be a bully.” She had to get out of here before she broke out in tears and embarrassed herself.
She nodded to Trey’s mother and grandmother. “I-I enjoyed visiting with you. I have to hurry home so I can prepare lunch.”
When Deborah had gone, Trey braced his hands on his hips. “Mama, I’d say you were about as subtle as a cannon. You probably scared Deborah away.”
Mama smiled. “I don’t think so. She sure faced Fayne Barton toe to toe. I’ll bet that girl is made of stern stuff.”
Grandma tilted her head. “Didn’t she look nice, though? Not very serious books, but at least she reads.”
“She’s read the others, too, Grandma. I requested she bring me light, even humorous, books. Being stuck in jail is bad enough without reading a depressing story.”
Mama gasped. “I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry, son. You have enough now to keep you going for several days and surely you’ll be free by then.”
Grandma bristled. “I don’t think we brought depressing books. I concede they might take a bit more concentration than Verne and Twain. I’m heartened to learn Deborah has read more edifying fiction as well.”
Deuce picked up one a book. “Maybe she’ll loan these to me when you’re finished.”<
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Grandpa looked over his shoulder. “That sounds funny. Where is Calaveras County?”
His father opened the book. “California.”
Trey shook his head. “Take that one with you and bring it back when you finish. I’ll start with Tom Sawyer.”
Grandpa held up a finger. “Well, now I thought that one looked kind of interesting.”
Grandma took the books from her husband and son. “Have you forgotten that Miss Taber brought these to entertain Trey since he is the one who’s stuck here? Shame on you both.”
Grandpa ran a finger around his collar. “Guess we did forget that fact. Reckon it’s time we left so Trey can enjoy his reading. With any luck, maybe that nice young woman will come for another visit.”
Trey shook his head. “Not after Mama practically invited Deborah to marry me. Sounded like she all but has the invitations engraved and ready to mail.”
Mama sent him a sly smile. “We’ll see, Mr. Smartypants.”
Oh, man, his mama was one determined woman. He hoped she didn’t send Deborah running for the hills.
Chapter Six
After Deborah had hurriedly taken her father lunch, she insisted Mama go lie down. While she waited, she worked on a quilt block to keep her hands busy. Otherwise, she’d likely explode from nervousness.
Three hours later Mama slipped back into the room. “I slept like a rock and feel much better.”
“I’m going to fix supper and breakfast for Papa. Eric Barton’s father came by and yelled at Papa for being too sympathetic to Trey. Papa said he’s going to sleep at the paper tonight in case of more backlash about the articles.”
“It’s too late for you to go because it would be dark when you walked home. We agreed that you wouldn’t be out after dark. Go ask Mr. Singleton if he and Mr. Ferguson would take the food to Herman.”
“All right. I’m sure Papa would enjoy talking with them, too.”
She hurried to the Singleton home two houses away and across the street.
Deborah's Dilemma Page 3
