Deborah's Dilemma

by Caroline Clemmons

  His comment brought the terrible incident back into her mind. “We were horrified. No one was badly injured, but Papa and the men who helped him have burns here and there.” She explained why the men were with her father.

  Wade set his plate aside. “That was good planning on your part. Neighbors like that are a godsend, and I mean that literally. Don’t believe he could have fought that fire successfully alone.”

  Deborah hated the thought of him trying. “No, and he would have tried…. ” She paused in surprise when her mother came into the parlor.

  “I’m sorry you had to wait in here alone while Deborah took over my hostess duties. I’m so pleased you stopped by. Trey is sitting with Jeff so I can visit with you.”

  Trey’s grandmother—Deborah thought her name was Marianne—set her cup on its saucer. “How is your son?”

  “We believe he’s getting better. He’s delirious, but at least he’s speaking instead of just laying there. At times, I recognize words.”

  Judith Pearson—Trey’s mother—smiled at Mama. “We’ve remembered your family in our prayers, Mrs. Taber. Our children are so precious to us.”

  Mama returned the smile. “Please, call me Olive. I’m glad you each had some of the cake. Freddie Pate almost cleaned us out this morning.”

  The Pearsons looked at Deborah. So much for her white lie.

  Deborah sighed and spread her hands. “I apologize and will explain. Freddie Pate is a boy about ten or eleven and the hardest working young man you’ll ever meet. His father was injured and out of work for quite a while. The family struggled in spite of assistance from various people in the community. Freddie started doing odd jobs to help out.”

  She gestured around the room. “For instance, he cleans the baseboards here once a month and furnishes all his own supplies. His father is now head teller at the bank but that’s a separate long, long story. Anyway, even though his family doesn’t need his help now, Freddie is still in business. He brought a note to me from Trey early this morning and I offered him a slice of cake while he waited for me to write an answer.”

  A knowing glance passed between Trey’s grandmother and mother.

  Deborah sensed a blush staining her cheeks. “Before he’d gone, Freddie had eaten three generous slices of cake and downed three glasses of milk. He’s a nice boy and is honest as well as a hard worker. I remember Jeff ate a lot at that age but not this much. I simply don’t know where Freddie put all that food.”

  Trey’s mother chuckled. “A typical boy. You can’t fill up a boy that age. When Trey was about ten we were expecting what we thought of as important guests. Our housekeeper, Rosario, had made this elaborate cake for dessert. Unfortunately, she left the decorated cake in the center of the kitchen table while she was elsewhere in the house. When she returned, a huge corner chunk of the cake was missing,” She used her hands to indicate about a six-inch square, “and a trail of crumbs led out the back door.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Marianne continued, “Rosario grabbed her wooden spoon and went looking for Trey. She found him in a tree just out of reach. She yelled, ‘When you come down, I will whack you good.’ Trey yelled back, ‘Segunda mama, I’m never coming down’. He’s always called her his second mother, you see. Anyway, by the time he reappeared, she was no longer angry with him. She’s always spoiled him terribly.”

  Trey stood in the doorway. “I think I heard my name being slandered.”

  Mama rose. “Trey, thank you for giving me a chance to visit with your lovely family. I feel years younger than before you came.”

  The other two Pearson men stood.

  Wade nodded to Mama. “Chatting with you has been pleasant but we must get out of your way.” His eyes twinkled when he smiled at Deborah. “Thank you for the cake. Too bad I didn’t get the second slice I wanted.”

  Trey looked at her. “Cake, what cake?”

  Judith took his arm. “Come on, son, we’ll explain on the way home.”

  When they’d gone, Deborah collected tea things. “Aren’t they a nice family?”

  “And, he’s a very nice young man. I’m sorry I was so quick to judge him.” Mama went back to sit with Jeff.

  Deborah couldn’t keep from smiling as she washed the dishes. Running out of cake was embarrassing, but his family had made it a fun joke.

  Chapter Eight

  Virgil rode out to the Barton spread. Arthur Wallis accompanied him so his Chief Deputy could deal with any problems in town. He sure hoped he solved this mess soon. His head was likely to explode if he didn’t.

  “I reckon Barton won’t be a problem but look sharp anyway.”

  They rode up to the ranch house and Barton came out on the porch. “You find out who killed my boy yet?”

  Virgil remained on his horse. “Working on it. We came to ask you about another problem. You around town last night about eight?”

  The man leaned a shoulder against a porch pillar. “What business is it of yours?”

  “Look, Barton, you aren’t helping us find who shot your son by being defensive. Someone bottle-bombed the newspaper office last night.”

  He laughed and slapped his thigh. “Serves that Herman Taber right. Well, it wasn’t me. I was here and you can ask my hands and my wife.”

  “I’m asking you. Don’t you want to know how Taber and the newspaper fared?”

  Barton glared at him. “Not especially, but since you’re dying to tell me, go ahead.”

  “He saved the building and he’s all right. Friends were visiting who helped put out the fire. If they hadn’t been there, the whole town could have burned.”

  The rancher pointed at Virgil. “Now listen, I ain’t the kind to do that. I don’t like that Taber but I wouldn’t burn out any man. I sure wouldn’t risk the whole downtown.”

  Virgil took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “Glad to hear that. I’m asking you to stay away from the Tabers and the Pearsons while I solve this. Trey Pearson was in jail when the newspaper office was bombed.”

  Virgil shifted in his saddle so he could appear casual while he kept scanning the surroundings. “Someone else is involved in this.” He slashed the air with his hand. “Look, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I guarantee you I will do everything in my power to find the killer.”

  Appearing to mull this over, Barton looked down. “That Taber kid still unconscious?”

  Virgil clamped his hat back on his head. “He appears to be recovering. Not awake, but mumbling. Expect he’ll wake up soon. I hope he saw who shot him and Eric.”

  Barton straightened and met Virgil’s gaze. “Like you asked, I’ll stay away. I’ll send one of my hands in every day to see what the progress is.” He pointed a forefinger at Virgil. “But, if you don’t find answers soon, I’m going to start looking on my own.”

  “Fair enough. Have your man stop by my office. If I’m out, I’ll leave word of our progress.” He tipped his hat and turned his horse.

  Together, he and Arthur rode away.

  When they’d cleared the Barton gate, Arthur asked, “Where to now?”

  “Kirby’s place. Can’t decide which man I dislike more, Kirby or Barton.”

  Arthur chuckled. “Hard decision, that one. Either one is capable of bushwhacking but Barton wouldn’t shoot his own son. Guess that doesn’t mean it has to be Kirby.”

  “Nope, too many people disliked Eric.”

  As they rode up the long road to Kirby’s ranch house, Virgil sat easy. “I’ve always thought this was a real pretty spread.”

  “Lot of work went into planting all these trees along the road. Wonder who waters them?”

  Virgil almost snorted. “Not Kirby you can be certain. He appears more talker than worker.”

  “Where’d he come from?”

  “Don’t know that I’ve ever heard. Moved in about the time I came into office five years ago. Must have brought money because he bought that big spread and built a house that looks like it’s straight from a Souther
n plantation.”

  When they arrived at the house, they found Kirby rocking on the front porch with a drink in his hand. His wife sat in another rocker. She rose and went inside as he and Arthur approached.

  Kirby stood and smiled. “Well, Sheriff. What can I do for you two men?”

  Once again, Virgil remained in the saddle. “We just stopped by to ask a few questions about Eric Barton.”

  Kirby took a sip of what appeared to be bourbon. “Not sure I can be of any help.”

  “I’ve heard that Eric threatened you over the dam you erected several years ago across the creek. That right?”

  Kirby held up a hand. “Now boys, I didn’t build that. I’ve explained many times that my foreman did that on his own before I knew what he’d done. I would have taken it down but someone beat me to it.”

  Virgil wanted to say a lot of things but he held his thoughts. “Back to Eric. Is it right he threatened you?”

  Kirby shrugged and grinned. “Aw, well, you know young men that age. They get a burr under their saddle and go sounding off. I didn’t put any stock in what he said. Figured he was just blowing off steam.”

  “So, you don’t hold him responsible for dynamiting the dam?”

  Kirby held his hands out at his side. “That kid? Well, I never placed blame anywhere. I told you I was planning to do the same thing so it didn’t matter who got the job done.”

  “Nice to know you didn’t hold a grudge.”

  The rancher took another sip of his drink. “You any closer to finding the boy’s killer?”

  “Getting there. Did you hear the newspaper office was fire bombed last night?”

  Kirby stepped back in surprise. “No, anything left of it?”

  “It’s fine except for the front counter and the plate glass window. Several men happened to be visiting Herman and helped put out the fire before it could spread.”

  “Well, I’ll say. Good to have friends in town, isn’t it? When I’m mayor, I’ll seek to reinforce us supporting one another.”

  Virgil tipped a finger to his hat brim. “Be seeing you.”

  He and Arthur rode away. Virgil wished he had eyes in the back of his head. He also wished he could read Kirby’s thoughts.

  When they’d ridden a ways, Arthur asked, “How can Kirby run for mayor when he doesn’t live in town?”

  “He owns several rental properties in town and that qualifies him as a resident. Doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Virgil, what do you really think about him and Eric?”

  “I think that man and truth are like oil and water.”

  ***

  Deborah walked home from delivering supper to her father. She’d be home long before dark. In spite of that she followed her usual short cut across the vacant lot behind the bank and beside the Novak’s home. Humming to herself, she was happy as she recalled the Pearson’s visit.

  A shot rang out and she sensed the whiz of the bullet. She hit the ground and lay still, wondering where the shooter was hidden. Her heartbeat raced, blood pounded in her ears. She fought to quiet her breathing so she appeared still as death. Death?

  The term frightened her even more. She could have died. Where was the person who shot at her? Would he come closer for a better shot? Why shoot her in the first place?

  Taking inventory of her body, she didn’t believe she’d been hit. She heard loud steps and braced herself. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t speak. Her chest hurt from the tension. Was this it for her?

  Hands grabbed her. “Deborah? Deborah, are you all right?”

  Recognition of the sheriff’s voice sent relief rushing through her. “Oh, Virgil, thank heavens you’re here.” She let him help her to her feet. “I don’t know who fired that shot but it scared me half to death.” She brushed dirt and leaves from her dress.

  He caught her hand and straightened her arm. “Looks like a near miss.”

  When she followed his gaze, she saw a hole through her sleeve even with her heart. Only a few inches had saved her.

  “My dress. Oh my, that was too close.” Her knees wobbled and she would have plopped onto the ground if Virgil hadn’t supported her.

  Ron and Byron Novak rounded the corner from the bank. “We heard a shot.”

  Mayor Joshua Paine hurried across the street. “Everyone all right?”

  Virgil indicated her sleeve. “I’m sure whoever fired that is already well away but I’ll walk Deborah home to be sure.”

  Byron clapped him on the shoulder. “Good idea, son. Guess everything’s under control.”

  Mayor Paine nodded. “Sure glad you’re all right, Deborah. I’ll bid you folks good evening.”

  She turned back. “Ron, do you mind telling my father I’m fine. I’m sure he heard the shot too and will worry.”

  “I’ll do it right now.” He jogged toward the newspaper office.

  Byron nodded. “I’ll say good evening.”

  “One of the deputies and I had been out talking to people. I’d just returned home when I heard the shot. Sure got me moving quickly.”

  “Can you imagine the nerve of someone shooting so near the jail and your home?”

  “Deborah, that’s from a rifle of the type a marksman uses. He could be quite a ways from you, say as far away as the bathhouse. All he needs is a clear line of sight.”

  That news sent her stomach plummeting. “That’s even more frightening. Thank you for walking with me.”

  “Obviously, it’s not safe for anyone in your family to be out alone.”

  “I’ve been staying inside at night but it’s not even dark yet.”

  “All the same, you need to stay at home.”

  She glanced from side to side. “I’m not sure I’ll set foot out of the house again until you catch who shot Jeff and Eric.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  Chapter Nine

  Trey braved the teasing of his family in order to ride into town. His first stop was to see Deborah.

  He enjoyed seeing her face light up when she saw him. “Come in. Sorry, I still don’t have any cake.”

  He grinned at her. “My folks were impressed with your hostess ability. Everyone who ate a piece of that cake said it was exceptionally good. Of course, I wouldn’t know.” He tried to look forlorn.

  “Poor man, why don’t I feel sorry for you?”

  “Deuce and Grandpa want to read the books you loaned me if you don’t mind. I brought you this. I hope you haven’t read Lorna Doone.”

  “I haven’t but I’ve heard of it. I wish we had a library so we would have access to more reading material.”

  “That’s one of the few things I miss from living in the East. Shall I step in and say hello to Jeff?”

  “Would you? I know it would help. That sounds crazy but I believe he improves with stimuli.”

  “Sounds plausible. Sometimes when we dream we incorporate sounds around us.”

  He stepped to the door and this time Mrs. Taber smiled when she saw him. “Thank you for coming again, Trey.”

  “My pleasure. I brought a book to loan Deborah in exchange for those she’s loaned my family and me.”

  Her expression changed to a solemn one. “Did Deborah tell you someone shot at her yesterday?”

  “What?” He turned to Deborah. “You didn’t even mention this?”

  She hugged her arms. “I’m trying to forget it. It wasn’t even dark, just close to dusk.” She explained what had happened.

  He shook his head and jammed his hands into his pants pockets. “This is getting ridiculous. Do you have a gun?”

  “I’ve never even held one.”

  “Mrs. Taber, I’d like your permission to teach Deborah to fire a revolver and give her a small one she can carry in her skirt pocket.”

  Mrs. Taber wrung her handkerchief. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t approve, but right now I’d appreciate you doing so. This crazy person seems to have targeted our family.”

  He gripped Deborah’s shoulders. “I’m going to t
alk to Virgil. I’ll see you soon.”

  She followed him to the door. “We both have responsibilities, Trey. You can’t spend your time coming back and forth. Remember, it’s not safe for you, either.”

  “I’ll bring an armed escort next time. I know you have to take care of your family. We’ll work around that.” He took her hand. “Deborah, when all this is settled, I’d like permission to court you.”

  Her face blossomed in the sweetest smile he’d seen. “That’s nice to hear.”

  He kissed her forehead and left.

  At the jail, he caught Virgil and Milton pouring over paperwork.

  “What can I do to help you catch this polecat?”

  Milton glanced at Virgil and raised his eyebrows. “So, when his girl gets shot at, things become more serious.”

  Virgil glared at him. “You ride in by yourself? Why don’t you just sew a big bull’s eye to your shirt?”

  He suddenly realized how dumb he’d been now that he’d learned someone had taken a shot at Deborah. “I came… well, never mind why I came. This afternoon, I’m bringing a couple of hands with me and coming in the buggy. I’m giving you fair warning I have Mrs. Taber’s permission to teach Deborah to shoot a gun. Then I plan to give her a small revolver to carry with her until this nut is caught.”

  “You know I don’t hold with folks taking things into their own hands, but guess I can’t blame you in this case. If it was Alexandra, I’d make sure she had a gun with her.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “Since that’s the way it’s gonna be, I’d better deputize you. You willing?”

  Trey was unexplainably excited at the prospect. “You bet I am.”

  “This means you’ll be asked to join a posse when necessary and maybe fill in like Arthur and Claud have done this week.”

  “I’d consider doing so an honor.”

  Virgil grinned at him. “That’s the right answer if there ever was one.”

  Virgil took a badge from a desk drawer then stood. “I have to swear you in.” When he’d finished, he returned to his chair.

  Trey pinned the star on his vest. He felt like a kid who’d just been given his first pony.