Deborah's Dilemma

by Caroline Clemmons

  “Have any new books?”

  “Got some in yesterday. Ordinarily, she or Jeff would have been here to snatch the best. Guess being laid up has crimped Jeff’s natural inclinations to action and she’s stuck caring for him.”

  Trey sorted through the new arrivals. “I’ll take Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Helen Hunt Jackson’s Ramona. Hmm, The Vanished Diamond by Jules Verne looks like something Jeff would enjoy.”

  Darned if he didn’t enjoy reading and owning books. He did miss having access to a large library, but he enjoyed his personal library at home.

  He poked through the older books. “Hey, this is lucky. I loaned my copy of Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone to someone in college who never returned it. Glad to find a replacement.”

  “You reread books, too, huh? Some people think I’m crazy because I read again a book I’ve enjoyed.”

  “Why not? I always find something new each time I go over it. Besides, I love the words. Here’s Treasure Island and Life on the Mississippi. Now I’ll stop while I can still carry them.”

  At the checkout counter, Scott totaled up the books. Ever the businessman, he asked, “Did you decide on candy or figs?”

  “Let me see the containers. I want something pretty.”

  Scott set two containers of mints and one of figs on the counter.

  “I’ll take the pink tin of mints and the figs.”

  “You’re really going to make an impression with Deborah.”

  “Like I said, one of the books is for Jeff and so are the figs. He’s tired of being stuck in his bedroom. Can’t say I blame him.”

  “Me neither. I heard all about the family going to your place on Sunday. Secondhand, of course, after Moriah visited Deborah. Now that you know Kirby is stuck at home, at least you can take Deborah for a stroll.”

  “Good idea and makes my day.” He loaded his purchases and left. After stashing the books he’d bought for himself in his saddlebags, he led his horse to the Taber home.

  He rang the bell and Deborah answered.

  Her face lit up when she saw him and a sweet smile graced her mouth. “Trey, how nice to see you. Please come in.”

  “I hope coming without first letting you know I’d be here is all right.”

  “Certainly. Please, have a seat in the parlor.”

  “First, let me take something to Jeff. Is he still stuck in bed?”

  She walked with him to her brother’s room. “He can get up for thirty minutes at a time but not over four times a day.”

  Jeff appeared happy to see him. “Another person who’s not my sister. Welcome.”

  Deborah pretended to be offended. “Ingrate.”

  Trey handed the Jules Verne and Huckleberry Finn books to Jeff along with the tin of figs. “I brought you some things to cheer you.”

  “Wow, these are great. If I have to be stuck in here, at least I have something new to read.” He opened the tin. “Look interesting. What are they?”

  “Dried figs from California. I think you’ll like them.”

  “Let’s see how we like them.” He opened the package and took one then handed the container to Deborah.

  She took one and handed the tin to Trey. “Mmm, unusual but good. They appear to be coated in honey or something sweet.”

  Jeff swallowed. “Take one, Trey, and give me back the tin. I’m keeping them under strict security.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I borrow your sister for a little while?”

  “Nope, I’m pretty self-sufficient now. In a few days I’ll be up and around like new.”

  “Glad to hear that.” Trey took Deborah’s hand and led her to the parlor. “Will your parents be here soon?”

  She shook her head. “They’re working late to get out tomorrow’s edition. I’m sorry, would you like something to eat? Jeff and I ate earlier but there’s plenty left.”

  “No, I came to see you. I told you I intended to court you.” He gathered the book and mints from where he’d left them when he arrived.

  She settled on the couch. “Oh, so this is an official courting call? How nice.”

  He handed the gifts to her. “I brought candy and a book. Sorry it’s not chocolates but Moriah said they can’t keep them in summer.”

  “What a pretty tin. When it’s empty, which probably won’t be long, I’ll save it for sewing notions. It’s far too pretty not to keep.” She examined the book. “Ramona. I haven’t read this yet. It’s obviously new.”

  “Scott said it arrived yesterday and neither you nor your brother had been able to see the new books yet.”

  “You’re so nice to think of bringing Jeff gifts, Trey. Dr. Ross says Jeff is making an unusually rapid recovery. Just the same, he really is depressed about being stuck in bed for so long. He’s usually bounding with energy.”

  “Sure it’s been hard on everyone. The good news is that Norris Kirby is laid up and it’s safe for us to go for a walk.” He told her about Vivian Kirby’s visit to the Mercantile.

  “Wonderful. I don’t mean that he’s sick but that it’s safe for us to be out. Let me tell Jeff and then we can go. I’ve a terrible case of cabin fever myself.” She left him long enough to tell Jeff they were leaving.

  They strolled down Elm Street where her house was located toward the creek at the bottom of the incline.

  She fanned her face. “The air is sultry, isn’t it? I’ll bet we have a storm soon.”

  “You’re probably right. It’s too still even though I don’t hear thunder. Dusk will fall early this evening.”

  “Instead of by the creek where mosquitoes will be swarming, why don’t we walk in the cemetery?”

  “Good idea. You promised our spot was the coolest place in town. Let’s see if it’s cooler now.”

  He guided her around the corner to Crockett Street. Just before the church, they turned into the lane leading to the cemetery. He must be a sap. As long as he lived, he’d think of the spot where they’d shared her basket of food as “their spot”.

  When they reached their destination, she held out her hands and turned in a circle. “See, it is cooler.”

  “I believe you’re right. Why don’t we sit on that bench for a bit and talk?” He used his handkerchief to dust off the seat.

  She sat at one end. “I guess none of your family is buried here.”

  “We have a cemetery on the ranch which is where our branch of the family will be buried. So far only a few ranch hands or their family members have graves there.”

  “I didn’t see the cemetery when I was there. Is it near the ranch house?”

  “About a quarter of a mile from the house there’s a nice gentle slope overlooking a valley and the Trinity River. Real pretty site. Grandpa set up the cemetery when the first one of the hands died. You know, working with cattle and horses can be dangerous.”

  “I’m sure it can be. Have there been a lot of injury deaths or mostly from natural causes?”

  “Mixture. A horse went wild and stomped one man. A steer gored another. One woman died in childbirth, a couple of children died of diphtheria, and we had two older adults die of influenza. Some of the hands have extended family living with them so that means all ages live on the ranch.”

  “Your family is responsible for an entire group of people, aren’t you?”

  “We are and we take that responsibility seriously. We never have people quit. Papa had to fire a man for being careless. Otherwise we keep the same people with us year after year.”

  “Where are their homes?”

  He was proud of the way his family treated the people who worked for them. “Different places on the ranch. There’s a little village where many of them live. There’s a small Catholic Church and a school there and we pay the teacher. We also have a company store but don’t think we take advantage of the workers. We lose money on what we sell because we sell for what the items cost us and don’t mark up to pay the salary of the man who works there.”

  “That’s reall
y nice of you. Are all the ranch hands Mexican?”

  “Most are but we also have all races and several countries represented.”

  “What countries?”

  He tried to pull the identities from his memory. “Irish, Welsh, and Italian come to mind.” He tweaked her nose. “You’re asking a lot of questions. I think you’re more a newspaper reporter than you admit.”

  She giggled. “I guess you’re right. Papa trained Jeff and me.” She gazed into his eyes. “Being here with you is lovely.”

  He sobered. “Deborah, I need to tell you something before we take our relationship further.”

  A frown furrowed her brow. “Oh, dear, that sounds ominous.”

  “You might change your opinion of me after you learn what I have to tell you. It’s true I used to fight in school. You mentioned that when you came to the jail.”

  She laid her hand on his arm. “That was just a question for my interview. It wasn’t an accusation, Trey.”

  “You were right.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. If only he could wipe away the memories. “When I got to university, everyone acted as if being from Texas meant I was a gunslinger or someone from one of the tales in the penny dreadfuls. I think they expected me to pick my teeth with a Bowie knife and wear buckskins.”

  “You must have been a terrible disappointment to them.” She giggled. “I don’t mean to make light of what must have been distressing but I tried to picture you in buckskins with a Bowie knife.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Won’t happen. I grew a pretty big chip on my shoulder due to the teasing. One guy in particular was a problem. The guy’s name was Craig Peterson. Picture Eric Barton as wealthy and living Boston society’s high life.”

  “Oh, dear, Trey. You had to tolerate someone like that?”

  “Right. Craig was always playing pranks on me. The last one was putting something in my food that caused not only an upset stomach but an allergic reaction and I went into shock. Fortunately my roommate recognized there was a serious problem and got me to the hospital.”

  “Heavens, that was serious. What did he give you?”

  “Belladonna. I almost died. His family put pressure on the administration and he was only reprimanded. Against my wishes WW intervened and Craig was expelled and vowed to get even with me.”

  She rubbed her hands on her arms as if she were cold, but the temperature was warm. “He sounds vicious. Did he get even?”

  “Not exactly, although he tried. One night when I was coming home after being out with friends, he waylaid me. He had a cricket bat and some friends with him. My friends heard the commotion and kept his friends from ganging up on me so it was an even fight.”

  “If he had a bat, how could it be?”

  “I soon took the bat away from him and tossed it aside. He and I fought for what seemed like hours. My friends told me was between five and ten minutes. I finally delivered a sound blow that sent Craig flailing. His head hit the concrete walkway and he was unconscious.”

  She grabbed his arm, sympathy shining from her beautiful blue eyes. “Oh, how horrid for you.”

  “He was taken to the hospital. He had bleeding of his brain and he… he died. Deborah, I’d killed him. I wanted you to know. I haven’t fought with anyone since that night.”

  Instead of the revulsion he feared, he still saw sympathy in her wide blue eyes. “No wonder, Trey. What a terrible thing to have happen. You were only defending yourself against a vicious bully. I hope nothing else bad happened to you.”

  “If you mean from the school or police, then no. My friends and even most of his vouched for me. But, I’ll never forget the sight of him lying there on the walk.”

  “I understand how it must weigh on you. You were in the right, though. You didn’t mean for him to die, just to leave you alone.”

  “That’s right. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you aren’t appalled that I was involved in his death. Believe me, I’ll never get over the guilt.”

  She reached for his hand and cradled it in both of hers. “Oh, but you must. I mean, you might not be able to forget the incident but you must stop feeling guilty. You couldn’t stand there and let him beat you with the cricket bat or you would have been the one who died.”

  “I hope you’re right, Deborah.”

  “Thank you for sharing this with me. I appreciate your trust. Can we talk of something less serious now?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I’m grateful we’ve been able to have this time together after me being confined to the house. I’m grateful Jeff is recovering. I’m grateful Papa didn’t die in the fire at the newspaper.”

  He smiled at her. “I’m relieved I finally have a chance to be alone with you. And, I admit this spot is cooler than anywhere else.” He gazed upward. “Clouds are gathering. Looks as if we may be in for a storm.”

  “I don’t care.” She stood and twirled again. “I told you—” A gun blast rent the air and she dropped to the ground.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Deborah!”

  Trey spotted Kirby dodge through headstones. Trey fired at the killer but didn’t chase him. He had to take care of Deborah.

  Dear Lord, please let her be all right.

  “Let me see where you’re hit.” He bent over her and used his handkerchief to staunch the blood that oozed from a wound on her shoulder. Already she was pale.

  She gasped for breath and clung to his arms. “G-Guess his wife lied. It was Kirby.”

  “I know, honey. I’m going to carry you and it’s going to hurt. I have to get you to the doc’s office.”

  She cringed but didn’t cry out when he lifted her. He straightened and cradled her to him.

  “Your… clothes. Too… far.”

  “Don’t try to talk. I’ll be as gentle as I can but I want to hurry.” He walked as fast as he could.

  Trey cut between houses and headed straight for the doctor’s office. The time had come for businesses to close.

  Please let him still be there.

  He didn’t stop for help until he reached Doctor Ross’ office. The doctor was on his steps and leaving when Trey arrived carrying Deborah.

  “Not another gunshot victim.” He unlocked the door and stood aside. “Bring her in and lay her on the table through there.”

  Doctor Ross rapidly gathered his tools. “Dadburnit, what’s this town coming to? And, what were you two doing out after all the recent goings on?”

  “We were walking in the cemetery because Mrs. Kirby said her husband was laid up. We thought it would be safe. Kirby showed up and shot her. I couldn’t abandon her to chase him.”

  “Shot went clean through her. That’s better than me having to dig around.”

  “Will she be all right?”

  “Reckon so but it’s too soon to tell. She’s losing a lot of blood. You go on and report this to the sheriff.”

  “You’re sure I can’t help?”

  “Son, I’ve done this more times than I care to tell. Get moving before that polecat gets clean away.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Ross. I’ll be back soon as I can.” He raced to the jail.

  He burst into the sheriff’s office. “Virgil, Kirby shot Deborah.”

  Virgil leaped to his feet as Trey launched into his tale. “Let’s get mounted up and after him. This time we have enough to hang the man.”

  ***

  Deborah tried to focus. She realized she was at the doctor’s office but she couldn’t find Trey.

  “Lie still, young lady. Sorry to cut away this nice fabric but I have to get to your wounds.” His scissors snipped away the bodice of her green dress.

  She tried to tell him, “Just got it repaired from being shot at.”

  He didn’t say anything so she wondered if she’d actually spoken aloud.

  Her shoulder was on fire but the rest of her was cold. Pain was so bad she wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Jeff didn’t know how lucky he was to be unconscious when h
e was shot.

  What a terrible thought. Her poor brother. Immediately she was sorry she’d had such a selfish thought.

  “Trey… ”

  Doctor Ross didn’t look away from his work. “Don’t try to talk. He’s gone to tell the sheriff what happened. Now just rest while I stitch this up.”

  He put a folded bandage in her mouth. “Put this between your teeth and clamp down. It’ll keep you from grinding your teeth and breaking a tooth.”

  Good thing he thought of that. She clamped her jaw to keep from crying out. She was certain he used something larger than a needle to stitch her together. She sensed each time he pulled the thread through her skin.

  He pressed a bandage to her wound after he’d finished. “You’ll have to turn on your side so I can get to the back. I’ll help you but it’s going to hurt.”

  When he rolled her body to her side she understood what he meant. Hot pain shot through her shoulder in waves. Thank goodness for the cloth between her teeth. She could barely keep from crying aloud.

  She wished Trey would return. If he were here to hold her hand then she would be certain everything would be all right. When would he arrive?

  Doctor Ross cut the thread. “You’re sewn up now and I’ve applied medicine on the wound. As soon as I bandage you, you can rest.”

  She heard the door. Thank goodness, Trey was back. Doctor Ross didn’t look up from rolling the bandage around her.

  No! The shadow’s shape was wrong. Kirby was here.

  When he stepped through the door, he appeared demonic, as if he’d lost his mind. He crept toward the doctor. She mumbled a warning but the folded cloth in her mouth distorted her words.

  Apparently the doctor thought she was complaining because of her injury and treatment. She reached for the cloth in her mouth but the doctor pushed her hands away.

  “Be still, Deborah, and I’ll be finished soon.” He still hadn’t seen Kirby.

  She twisted to get her hand into her pocket. She wouldn’t have long. Her skirt was wrapped sideways around her and the pocket was in the wrong place. She had to wriggle to reach her derringer.

  Kirby used the butt of his revolver and struck the doctor on the head. The good man dropped to the floor in a heap.