Deborah's Dilemma

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Deborah's Dilemma Page 8

by Caroline Clemmons


  Trey held up his hand. “I’d say that’s premature, Mr. McKelvey. I assure you I just walked over here with the man. Not sure he even likes me.”

  Mr. McKelvey walked off chuckling. Trey didn’t see the joke.

  Rick Tippen stormed out of the door and stopped to stab a finger in Trey’s direction. “I’d like to know what reason anyone had to cut me out of the vote. Concerned citizens my Aunt Fanny.”

  “Don’t look at me. I’m an innocent bystander.”

  “Oh yeah? I’ll bet you’re mixed up in this somehow.” He stomped down the steps.

  Trey was glad when Herman appeared.

  The man wore a big smile. He nodded at those they passed but kept his voice low. “Virgil is staying with the ballots until after they’re counted. Said he’s not taking a chance on any funny business. Kirby is so angry he’s rabid and says he’s staying too.”

  When they were back at the newspaper office, Trey resumed his search. He was into the most recent year’s issues. He was grateful he didn’t sit at a desk all day but had to admit he was pleased with the results he’d collected. His notes would make a difference in this case.

  The next morning Herman and his wife put out a special edition announcing Scott Ferguson as the new mayor and victory for the other candidates the advertisement had supported. Trey finished the last of the back issues.

  “Herman, is there something I can do to help you?”

  The newspaperman looked surprised. “No, but thank you. My wife is back so life is much easier now.”

  “I don’t know where these back issues belong, but I’d be happy to file them for you.”

  “Naw, you’ve worked hard. We’ll get to them.”

  “Then I’ll bid you good day and go see the sheriff.” He gathered his notes and left the office.

  Martin Taylor and his son had almost completed repairs and Trey wound around them.

  In the sheriff’s office, Virgil and Milton sat drinking coffee. Virgil appeared exhausted. Both men had been keeping long hours trying to solve this killing and fire.

  Virgil gestured to a chair. “Have a seat and tell me what you’ve found.”

  Trey sat and placed his notes on the desk. “We have a man who is not only evil but plans his revenge carefully and waits patiently to get even.”

  The sheriff raised his eyebrows. “Show me.”

  “First issue of the paper I checked had an article where Kirby’s cows got out and into Bledsoe’s crops. Bledsoe held the cattle and wouldn’t return them until Kirby had paid damages. Went to court and Kirby lost. You quoted him as saying he just wanted to be fair and if that’s what the judge ruled then he’d abide by it. Three months later, Bledsoe’s silo mysteriously caught fire.”

  Milton looked at Virgil. “I remember that. No one could figure out what started the fire so it was ruled as instant combustion.”

  Trey tapped his notes. “Next case, Higgins reported hogs missing through a cut fence. He got all but one back and reported Kirby had slaughtered it. Kirby denied it and Higgins had no proof that’s what happened except the suspicion of why his fence was cut. Four months later, a board in Higgins barn loft splintered and the man broke his leg. His farm hand said it looked like the board had been sawn almost through so that it broke when Higgins stepped on it. Could have been the farm hand that fell. Guess it didn’t matter as long as someone was hurt and couldn’t work.”

  Trey leaned forward. “You can read the notes. Everyone who crossed Kirby in a large enough way that it was reported in the Gazette had misfortune befall them within six months. Contaminated water, wrong food for horses, crop burned, house fire, and on and on. Reading these notes will make you sick.”

  Virgil slapped his hand on the desk. “Makes me so angry I could spit nails so hard I’d drive them plumb into a board. For one thing, why didn’t we notice the patterns?”

  Milton shook his head. “Guess we were too close—and probably too busy to catch them.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.” Trey pushed the notes towards the sheriff. “There was always enough time between the two events that the second one didn’t appear as retaliation. It’s only when you take them all together that you see the definite planning that went on in them. That’s why I said this man is an evil devil.”

  Milton said, “You have that right. I’d be willing to bet he’s the one behind the fire bombs at the Gazette and also Eric’s death.”

  Trey added, “And who knows how many small incidents unreported that received small-scale revenge.”

  Virgil met Trey’s gaze. “I don’t doubt you, I know Kirby’s guilty.” He leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face. “But, how are we going to prove it? I need something I can take to the court as proof, not speculation. He’s too slick a talker to let this convict him.”

  “You’ll figure it out, Virgil.” Trey stood. “Unless there’s something I can do to help you, I believe I’ll go… um, see how Jeff is progressing.”

  The sheriff and his chief deputy looked at one another and laughed.

  Virgil stood and clapped Trey on the back. “You do that. I’d sure hate for Jeff to get lonely.” The way he emphasized Jeff’s name made it clear he didn’t believe that’s who Trey was going to see.

  Well, he couldn’t argue, could he?

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Deborah answered the door she was pleased to see Trey. “Come in. I made the lemon cake you didn’t get to taste the other day. I don’t usually make one so close to the other but, well, I hoped you’d be by while you’re in town.”

  He laid his hat on the entry table. “Great. Couldn’t possibly live up to the descriptions from my family.”

  “Of course not. They were just teasing you since you didn’t have any when they did. If you want to go in to see Jeff, I’ll bring refreshments in there.”

  He’d followed her into the kitchen. He pushed a loose curl from her face. “Jeff is probably ready for some company but I wouldn’t mind staying in here with you.”

  Her heartbeat sped at the look in his eyes. She longed to lean against his strong chest and have his arms around her. Why did she have to feel like a silly schoolgirl unable to control her emotions whenever she saw him?

  “Perhaps you could carry the tray for me.”

  He grinned and raised his bent arm to display his muscles. “I’ll be happy to bear your burdens, ma’am.”

  She sliced the cake onto three plates then poured three glasses of milk. Once she’d gathered forks and napkins beside them on the tray, she stood aside. “All right, burden bearer, there you go.”

  “After you, ma’am.”

  Once they were in Jeff’s room and everyone had been served, Tray took a large bite of his cake.

  Trey looked at her. “This cake is every bit as good as I was told. I see why it’s your father’s favorite.”

  For several minutes they chatted about a dozen things. Deborah thought Trey made a special effort to make Jeff laugh.

  He turned to her brother. “Jeff, are you still stuck in bed?”

  Jeff grimaced. “I used to like this room but I’m pretty tired of it now. Doc says I can’t be up and around for at least another week to ten days.”

  Trey set his plate on the tray and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Here’s the thing. My family would like your family to come for dinner tomorrow after church. If you can’t come, we have to make arrangements for you to have a couple of companions.”

  Her brother grinned. “I’m grown and don’t need someone here all the time. Mr. Altoff is coming to stay during church. I hate he has to miss the service because I know he likes to attend.”

  Trey shook his head. “You should never be alone, Jeff. Even one or two others will offer protection. We don’t know what Norris Kirby will do to retaliate against losing the election. From reading back issues of the Gazette, I learned that he may wait months but he always exacts revenge when he feels he’s been slighted. I mean always.”

  Jeff set his empty glass on
the bedside table. “I guess you’re right but I hate feeling like I need a babysitter. For heaven’s sake, I’m nineteen not nine.”

  Deborah was torn by loyalty to stay with her brother and her desire to see where Trey lived. “What if one or two of your friends came for the afternoon? Quin and Zeke Allen or the Jefferson brothers?”

  Jeff brightened at her suggestion. “If Quin and Zeke came that would be great.”

  Trey appeared perplexed. “Guess I don’t know them.”

  Deborah explained, “Since you didn’t get to vote you might not have noticed Zeke Sr. was on the ballot.”

  “Name does sound familiar.”

  “They live diagonally across the street. They moved here about three years ago. Zeke, Jr., is a couple of years younger than I am and Quin’s a couple of years younger than his brother. Their father owns the lumberyard and both boys work there.”

  “If you think your folks will accept the invitation, I can go talk to the Allens when I leave here.”

  Excitement thrummed through her. She so wanted to see where Trey lived. That he invited her and her parents was a positive sign. Maybe he really was seriously interested in her.

  “I’m sure they’ll be pleased to be invited. Papa never gets a treat like that. Mama said talking with your family made her feel years younger, do you remember?”

  “Now that you mention it, but that was only because she was so tired and upset.” He chuckled. “I love my folks but I doubt they’ll have that effect on her permanently.”

  “I think you’re selling them short. I enjoyed talking with them very much.”

  He stood. “If both of you agree, I’ll go talk to the Allens and then stop at the newspaper office to talk to your folks.”

  Jeff leaned against his pillows as if eating and talking had tired him. “Sounds like a good plan to me. Mama and Papa need the outing and Deborah would enjoy going.”

  Deborah got to her feet. “I’ll walk you to the door, Trey.”

  In the parlor, Trey frowned. “You think elderly Mr. Altoff would be any defense if someone tried to break in here?”

  “I do. He doesn’t walk all that well, that’s true. In fact, Virgil has helped with repairs and such around his place. Now that the senior Fergusons live next door to him, I believe Liam helps occasionally. Don’t let that fool you. Mr. Altoff’s supposedly an expert marksman and he’ll be carrying his revolver.”

  “Whoa, I stand corrected.” He caressed her cheek. “You have a bit of icing right there.”

  She swiped at her face. “Where?”

  Trey leaned down and kissed beside her mouth. “Right there, but it’s gone now.”

  She leaned back and looked up into his sparkling eyes. “Trey Pearson, you made that up, didn’t you?”

  “How can you doubt me? Wait, there’s a bit here, too.” He kissed the other side of her mouth.

  Before she could move away—as if she’d want to—his lips covered hers. She leaned into his embrace. Magic, pure magic. His touch was as enchanting as she’d imagined.

  He pulled her tighter and tucked her head under his chin. “You have cast a spell on me, Sorceress Deborah. I find that not only can’t I escape, I don’t even want to do so.”

  She reveled in the warmth of his arms and the words he’d spoken. His heartbeat beneath her ear was strong. Hating to lose his touch, she forced herself to pull away.

  He smiled at her. “You’re right, I have errands. I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

  She watched him stride toward the Allen home before she turned and went to collect the plates and glasses from their refreshments.

  In church the next day, Deborah was wearing her white organza dress with the purple windowpane pattern. She wriggled and squirmed all through church, eager for the service to end so she and her parents could be on their way to Pearson Ranch. Mama pinched her during the sermon.

  On the way out, Reverend Patrick shook her hand. “Is everything all right, Deborah?”

  She sensed a blush. “Sorry I was a wiggle-worm. I enjoyed the sermon even though I couldn’t sit still.”

  Mama pushed her ahead. “What is wrong with you today? You haven’t acted like that since you were twelve.”

  Papa had rented a rig from Mr. Martinez at the livery. Mama sat in the middle of the one-seat buggy. This one didn’t compare with the luxurious Pearson vehicle but at least there was a hood.

  They followed the Pearsons, lagging back so the front buggy’s dust didn’t cover them. When it seemed they’d ridden forever, Deborah recognized a road.

  “There’s where we turned off for my shooting lesson.”

  Her father glanced at her. “Are you carrying that gun today?”

  “I am. Trey asked me to promise I’d keep it with me at all times. I know that goes against your beliefs, Papa. I hope you’re not disappointed in me.”

  “We can’t take chances, Deborah, not when your life is at stake. I pray this sordid mess is soon solved and we can act normally again. Under the circumstances until then, I think Trey’s wise.”

  “Thank you, Papa. Oh, they’re turning off. We must be close to the house.”

  They followed the Pearsons’ buggy up a tree-lined drive to a large, rambling house. Obviously, rooms and wings were added over the years yet the effect was pleasing. The home was only one story and nestled against the south side of a hill so it was protected from winter’s cold north wind. Trees surrounded it on three sides to offer cooling air in warm weather, when breezes were usually from the southwest.

  Part of the home was native stone, part in brick, and part of wood. If someone had described it to her before she saw it, she would have thought it would appear odd. Actually, the combination flowed with the hill and created a pleasant building.

  Papa reined in the horses and set the brake before he helped Mama climb to the ground. The Pearsons waved and trooped into their home except for Deuce. He came to walk with Mama and Papa.

  Trey helped Deborah from the buggy. He held her a little longer than necessary and when she met his gaze, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Not too bad a ride, was it?”

  She laid her hand on his arm. “Pleasant and this time I wasn’t as nervous as when we had an armed guard. In addition, that time I was concerned about learning to shoot.”

  He glanced her way. “You’re carrying your derringer in your pocket?”

  She made a face. “Yes, although everything seems to have calmed down so I don’t need a gun now.”

  He stopped and placed his hands on her upper arms then turned her to face him. “Trust me, Deborah, there will be an attack of some sort. Keep that gun with you until Kirby is in jail.”

  “You’re certain he’s the guilty person?”

  “I am and so are Virgil and Milton. The thing is, Virgil needs proof and all he has so far is circumstantial speculation. You may need that gun. Promise me you’ll keep it with you.”

  The seriousness of his tone frightened her. “If you think it’s necessary then I suppose I’ll carry it until you say differently.”

  He released her arms but placed his hand at her back. “Thank you. I read five years’ of Gazette back issues noting every disagreement reported. Kirby always gets his revenge. It may be days or weeks or months, but you can be certain he’ll strike.”

  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to rid herself of a sudden chill. Ridiculous, because today was warm. “All right, you’ve sufficiently scared me. Can we talk about something else?”

  He moved closer as they walked. “Aw, I didn’t mean to alarm you. Only wanted to insure you’re aware. Your protection is important.”

  “Thank you, Trey. You’re kind to look out for me.”

  “Is kindness what you think I have in mind?” His voice sounded strange. Had she offended him in some way?

  “You must be because you’ve been kind and generous with your time.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deborah and Trey had climbed the steps and were at the door.
The others had gone ahead without them.

  He guided her inside. “I’m sure everyone has gathered in the great room until Rosario calls us to dinner. She doesn’t like people messing about in her kitchen, although Mama often insists. Today, her granddaughters are helping.”

  She inhaled. “The aroma is enticing but I can’t identify the food. I didn’t realize I was hungry until I smelled dinner.”

  “She’s prepared enchiladas and all the trimmings. Mama thought it would be something different than what you usually have for Sunday dinner.”

  “She’s right there. We’re pretty boring people and tend to eat the same things repeatedly. I’ll look forward to trying something new.”

  She and Trey stood at one side of the room while her parents conversed with his parents and grandparents. Easy to understand why he called it the great room. It must be twenty feet by twenty-five. A massive stone fireplace appeared large enough to cook a steer in but obviously was only used for heat. Rustic beams braced the ceiling.

  Trey guided her to a wide, curved set of windows. “This is one of my favorite views. With the way the room bows out from the house, you can see both sunrise and sunset from this spot.”

  “The sight is like a painting. I can see why your family loves this place.”

  “The oldest part is a log dog trot cabin that was here when Grandpa bought the place. He built onto that in wood and stone. Then when Deuce and Mama married, they added more with stone and bricks.”

  “As we were driving up the lane, I thought the house looked as if it belonged here. I imagine a lot of thought went into adding onto it.”

  Her comment appeared to please him. “You’re right. Now, I’ve added my wing from native stone. I like the way it blends with the land.”

  “You have your own wing?” She wished she could call back her statement. “I apologize. That sounded critical but I was just surprised. I guess I expected you would wait until you were married or started a family.”

  “I suppose I rushed things a bit but I really wanted my own place. Plus, I needed an office where I could deal with all the family investments. I have almost more than I can keep track of alone.”

 

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