“Thank you,” Eliza said, her eyes downcast. He couldn’t help but wonder what she must have been like when she was the young, carefree woman he’d heard so much about. She set the tin back down. “I’ll be on my way, then.”
“You don’t have to go.” Abraham was making his way from the back of the store. “Stay, Eliza. I didn’t know you were coming. Please stay.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I’ll try to come again soon. I want to see the girls, but I need to get home and take care of the house.”
“Be safe,” Abraham said as he watched his daughter hurry from the store. “She knows something. She didn’t even buy the beans,” he said quietly. “I can tell she knows something. She hasn’t admitted it, but I can feel it. Fear’s keeping her from talking.”
“What can we do to keep her safe and get her to talk?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head and Thomas felt the weight of his sadness. “I ask myself that question every day. I see her now—since she married Jeb—and she’s not the little girl I raised. The Eliza back then was fearless. She wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. She cowers now.”
The sheriff stepped toward the door. “I have to go check on the men in the jail. Be sure to tell us if you hear anything else. But if no new leads show up, I’d say it’s time to move on. If Eliza’s not coming forward, there’s nothing else to go on.” He left then, walking as though he were in a hurry.
Abraham smiled sadly at Thomas. “When you have a wife someday, treat her with gentleness. Don’t give her a reason to be afraid.”
Thomas swallowed. Only recently had he aspired to gentleness and meekness. He had watched Penny tossing about in a fitful sleep and had yearned to hold her, to soothe her aches. But now, with her confession, he wasn’t sure what to think. Gentleness was right though. It was always right. “I will,” he promised, knowing his vow was sincere.
“You’re a good man, Thomas Conner.” The older man looked near tears. “There is no shame in kindness. There is no shame in thoughtfulness. Remember that. Anyone can be angry and forceful. Takes a humble man to rise above that.”
Thomas wished he could ease Abraham’s worries. But he could not. All he could do was promise to live by the good man’s advice. “I’ll do that. I give you my word.”
“Do you think Eliza knows anything about the fire?” Penny asked Margaret later that day. The woman’s peculiar visit was still fresh on her mind. “Why won’t she tell if she does?”
“I’d be willing to wager that she knows a great deal.” Margaret sat near the window, sewing new curtains. She set her work down in her lap. “But she’s afraid.”
“Why?”
“Jeb’s a smooth-talking man, always has been. As a boy and even as a young man, few of us saw him for the snake he was. Even my Scarlett thought he was charming. But there was always something wicked behind his words, and if things didn’t go his way, he’d mope around or drink. I’m told he’s been going to the saloon often since he was little more than a boy. But none of that was enough to keep the girls away. He had his good looks and all that land.”
“Why did Eliza marry him?” Penny winced in pain. She had moved too quickly to sitting.
Margaret walked to the bed and helped her shift her legs until they were comfortable again. “I’ll change these bandages again tonight.”
Penny straightened her blankets. “I look forward to the day that I can get about without being at everyone’s mercy. I’ll be happy to leave this room and get a taste of fresh air again. I think that will be good medicine.” She let her head rest against the pillow. “Will you tell me more?”
“About Eliza?”
Penny nodded. “Eliza and anyone else. I want to know about everyone.”
“Eliza was the town belle. Everyone, even Caleb Reynolds, found her enticing. She flirted with them all too.” Margaret slapped her leg and laughed. “You should have seen the way she danced about town. Smiling and waving at everyone. Not so different from Jeb, but for the most part her actions were innocent enough. Those of us who were out of the marriage game found it all entertaining. Things changed and there was a time when Eliza seemed to be maturing into a fine young woman.”
“What happened? Why Jeb? It sounds like she could have had any man she wished.”
“I’m not in Eliza’s head, but I think she had played hard to get so long that everyone had started giving up on her.” Margaret took her seat again at the window. “That may not be true. I don’t know the whole story. I only know something changed. It’s like she made up her mind she was going to get married and she was going to do it soon. That’s just me guessing though. I’d love to hear her side of it all. I think her story would be laced with regrets and pain.”
“Whose isn’t?”
“You’ve got a point. But unfortunately for Eliza, I don’t know how she’ll overcome it all. But with Jeb . . . well, I’m not sure what to hope for.”
Penny sighed. “I used to believe love was simple.”
“I don’t know a couple yet who would call it simple.”
“What will become of Eliza?” Penny didn’t really expect an answer. Who could know the future of the poor woman? Penny had spent much of the morning trying to imagine a happy ending for Eliza. She’d not been able to think of one.
“It’s a tragedy for sure. The poor girl settled for Jeb, and since the day she wed him she’s not been the same. I worry that he hurts her. I see her sometimes pulling at her neckline like she’s worried we will all see something. Even if he’s not, I don’t think there’s much kindness in that home.” Margaret stitched on the curtains, her stitches small and consistent. “I hope things will turn around for her. Some men change when they have a good woman in their lives.”
“And others?”
“They don’t. Some become even worse.” Margaret set her sewing in her lap.
“So she won’t tell what she knows about the barn because she’s afraid of Jeb.” Penny folded her arms across her chest. “It’s not right. Eliza shouldn’t have to live that way and Thomas shouldn’t have to suffer his loss and live in fear all because of one hateful man. I don’t understand why Jeb’s so cruel.”
“It’s not fair at all.” Margaret held up her curtains for Penny to see. “Almost done.”
“They’re lovely.” Penny managed a smile.
“Don’t be so glum. Eliza’s a strong woman. She might surprise us yet. She was brave enough to venture into town and check on you.” She patted Penny’s hand. “Thomas will be fine too.”
“It’s not safe out there for him.”
“I promise you, that man cares little for his barn. His heart is here, helping you recover.”
“It may have been, but I told him this morning I used to work at the dead letter office.” Penny wrung her hands together and groaned. “I think I may have scared him off.”
“And what did he say to that? What did he do when you told him?”
“Nothing. He just stared at me for a long moment and then left with the sheriff. I haven’t seen him since. I can imagine, though, that he’s questioning every word I’ve ever spoken to him. And rightly so. I never meant to be dishonest, but in his eyes I’m sure that’s how he sees me. I only kept it to myself because I feared he’d think me foolish, and now I fear he thinks I’m nothing more than a liar.”
“He’ll have questions, but I don’t think he’ll turn his back on you. I’d guess he’ll be back by your side nursing you until you are up to dancing. And I have a feeling he’ll want the first dance. He’s not so blind that he can’t see your heart.”
“You really think he’ll come back?”
“I do.”
24
I was out to your place earlier today.” Hugh slowed his horse when he saw Thomas walking the street in the late afternoon. “I’ve been trying to keep an eye on it and look for any clues.”
Thomas smiled at his friend. “And how is the old Dawson place?”
“The barn’s a charred ruin
, but the house is in good shape. I saw a rider on a black horse when I rode in. I didn’t get a good look at him, but he didn’t look like one of your hands.” Hugh swung off the side of his horse.
“Just the same hands as before. You didn’t know the man?”
“No. I’ve never seen him. He left in a hurry when I got there. Rode toward Jeb’s place. I started to follow, but I was unarmed and something in the pit of my stomach told me if this man was connected to the fire, then he probably wouldn’t hesitate to take out a nobody like me.”
“Penny saw a rider on a black horse on the day of the fire.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “It’s got to be the same person. The sheriff’s all but given up, but I don’t think this is over.”
“What are you going to do?”
Thomas wavered between heading to the boardinghouse or the jail. “I don’t know. Penny’s not better yet.”
“You care for the girl, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. If you’d asked me a few hours ago, I’d have said yes. I’d have told you that I planned to spend all the time with her I could and possibly forever, if she’d have me.” He shook his head. “But now I don’t know. She said something that has me wondering about the past and the future all over again.” He squinted in the direction of the yellow boardinghouse. “I do know she ran into the burning barn to save me. I promised her I’d stay by her side while she recovers. I promised her that, and I won’t go back on my word.” He let his hands fall to his sides. He had allowed himself to imagine a future with her. It hurt thinking that may never be more than a dream. “She plans to leave town as soon as she’s able. I might never have time to sort it all out.”
Hugh tied his horse to a hitching post. “I hope she’s on her feet soon, whether she’s the girl for you or not. Think we should tell the sheriff about the rider?”
“He was here not long ago. We should let him know, though I doubt much will come of it. He’s pretty well told me the case is closed. If Eliza won’t talk . . .”
“It’s not her fault.”
“I wasn’t meaning it was. I think she might know something about Jeb, but I don’t blame her for keeping it to herself. I’m tired of his smirk, and I only have to see him when he rides by. She has to live with the man.”
“It’s not—”
Thomas reached out and put a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “Hugh, I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I think I know what I should do.”
“About the fire? About Jeb?”
He shook his head. “No. I love what I’ve learned on the farm, but I’m not really a farmer. I’m a businessman. Does this town have anyone who helps sell all the harvest?”
“What do you mean?”
Thomas pointed toward the railroad. “You told me that everyone sells their crops when the train comes through. Everyone sells it for whatever price he gives you. Am I right?”
“That’s what I’ve always done.”
“This is prime farmland. And with people moving in all around and towns popping up, there’s going to be more and more demand for what we’re growing here.”
“We’re all hoping the prices go up. I sometimes wonder if I’ll be able to keep my farm going long enough for that to happen though.”
“I was a businessman before. I’d imagine the companies that are buying what you’re producing aren’t thinking too much about you. It’s just a game. Give you a few cents more and keep you happy when they’re likely making dollars more.” Thomas looked out at the golden fields. The timing of his realization struck even himself as strange, but the idea seemed sound enough. Adrenaline pumped through him. “There has to be a better way. I’ve been out in the fields now. I know it’s backbreaking work. Farms like yours ought to be able to bring a fair price.”
“How would you change it?”
“I’d have to think about it. But I’ve some money, and I could buy a thresher and a combine. We could have them here in Azure Springs. Then people wouldn’t have to beg and plead with Jeb to loan his. People could use them for a reasonable fee and work faster. We could band together and seek out buyers rather than wait and take whatever is offered. Right now only men like Jeb have the new equipment. The rest of you are working hard to make your land produce but can’t get the best prices because you don’t have the quantities the big farms do. I could help change that.” Thomas rubbed his hands together. For the first time, he envisioned a business that would help others. “It might work.”
Hugh slapped him on the back. “I don’t know where that idea came from, but I like it. It’s going to work. As long as you can find a way to keep everything you own from going up in flames or being trampled, I think it’ll be a big success.”
“You tell the sheriff what you saw and tonight at Margaret’s I’ll ask around. Maybe someone else also saw the rider on the black horse. We’ll put an end to all this.”
“Our town isn’t going to stand by while someone sabotages one of our own.” Hugh reached for his horse’s reins. “Tell Penny I’m wishing her well.”
“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” Thomas looked at the little table with its cloth and fancy dishes. A private table outside. What would she think of it?
“Of course not. She’s been eating off of a tray in that stuffy upstairs bedroom long enough.” Margaret set a dish filled with boiled potatoes on the table. “Celebrating the little things is what keeps life thrilling. Besides, I’ve a feeling you two need to sit and have a nice, long conversation. You might as well have that out in the open air.”
“What makes you say that? Did she tell you?”
Margaret narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been spending every waking minute by her side until today and now you’ve been walking laps around my boardinghouse all afternoon like you’re afraid to go up there. You’ve both been keeping secrets long enough.”
“You’re probably right.” He glanced toward the upper windows and groaned. “I’d still rather be the server. I’m sure I could find my way around the kitchen.”
“You’ve been by her side day and night. Under my supervision, of course.” She winked at him. “You deserve this meal as much as she does. Now run up there and fetch her. Be a gentleman.”
“I was planning to ask around about a man on a black horse. I need to do that. Hugh might have seen the same rider Penny saw. We have to stop whoever’s out to get me. But I’m sure Penny will enjoy eating out in the fresh air.”
“Nonsense. I’ve lots of practice asking around about things.” She shot him one of her don’t-even-think-about-arguing looks. “If there’s anything to be learned from those in the dining hall, I’ll find out. You take care of Penny. I know her secret and it’s not so horrible as you’ve tricked yourself into thinking. It’s all rather sweet and innocent.”
“She worked at the dead letter office. She hasn’t said so, but I believe she read all those letters I mailed. All day I’ve been worried about what she must think of me and wondering why she never told me she was the woman from the dead letter office. I don’t understand it.”
“She was on her way to tell you the day of the fire.” Margaret’s eyes softened. “Don’t judge her too harshly. She was lost and confused. We all run to the place we think will welcome us when we’re afraid.”
“She ran here,” Thomas said.
“She ran to you.”
“To me? But if she read my letters, then she knows the man I used to be.” Thomas’s hands shook. He folded them across his chest. He hated knowing that the tender Penny knew what sort of man he’d been before.
“And she still came. I know she’s confused and has questions, but that shouldn’t scare you off—it should draw you to her. A woman who you can trust your past to is the type of woman you want to share your future with. Answer her questions and ask her yours, but don’t turn your back on her just because she came.”
“She came for me?” he asked.
“Yes, now run up those stairs and fetch her for dinner. Abigail said she would have her al
l ready to come down.”
He rubbed his freshly shaven jaw. Margaret had convinced him to clean up for dinner, and now he understood why. “Still seems like too big a fuss.”
“Not another word of that.” She reached for his arm, then pulled him closer. “She received a telegram from her mother this morning, not long after you left. I’d sent word of her accident and her mother finally wired back. She said she was sorry about the accident and Uncle Clyde would see to her care once she returned. Penny’s mother said she had this coming by being so foolish and headstrong. Can you imagine? Her own mother blames her. Penny cried while she read it. Go get her. Have a wonderful night with her. She needs it. Now, go.” She shooed him as she would a bothersome fly. “Enjoy yourself.”
“She cried?” he asked, ignoring her waving hand. She had cried and all he could think was that he should have been there to comfort her.
“Yes. But you will make her smile. Go up there. The food is ready.”
He went slowly up the stairs, his heart heavy and uneasy. When he got to Penny’s door, he knocked and waited. “Penny, it’s me, Thomas.”
Abigail opened the door a crack. “Wait a moment. I’ve almost finished her hair. I decided to try something new, and it’s taking a bit longer than we expected. With Eliza grown and out of my home, I’m out of practice. Mae and Milly still wear their hair so simple.”
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Penny called from within. “I didn’t know Margaret was going to insist I dress for dinner.”
“No hurry,” Thomas said as Abigail softly closed the door.
He leaned against the wall and waited. Muffled voices met his ear. He wished he could decipher them. Knowing she knew about his past made him nervous and vulnerable. Was she telling Abigail about Clara? About all his foolish letters?
He thought about the letter he’d received in return. The letter that’d been from her. From Penny. It must have been her. She was the girl who had prayed for him. And she’d come here, to him. He reached out and put a hand on the doorframe to steady himself.
Yours Truly, Thomas Page 22
