“I was over at the saloon trying to find the man on the black horse. Did you need something? Margaret said it was important.”
Penny reached for the telegram and put it in his hand.
“It came days ago, but I only got it just now. I’m afraid we’ve been wrong this whole time. Maybe it’s not Jeb.”
He read it quickly. “What do you think it means?”
Penny groaned. “I think it must be my fault.”
“What? How?” Thomas’s face scrunched up in worry. “What happened?”
“When I went to Alexandria to find Clara, I took a letter from the dead letter office. I showed it to the Alexandria postmaster. We told him where we got it. He yelled and practically threw me out.”
“I remember him. He was a friend of Clara’s father. I believe they were distantly related, or maybe it was by marriage. What happened then?” Thomas leaned closer, his foot nervously tapping the floor.
“Because I wanted to write you and tell you what I’d learned of Clara’s death, I had to figure out where you lived. I had to search through records and find a town with a railroad, a store owner named Abraham, a family named Dawson that had moved, and a boardinghouse. In the end, I found Azure Springs. Several people in the office knew I’d found it.” She gritted her teeth. “I think whoever set fire to your barn must have found you because of me. They must have come to the dead letter office and learned from the other clerks where you were. I’m so sorry. I never—”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “You didn’t mean anything by it. They’d have found me eventually. I’ve moved money around and purchased land here in my own name. Don’t blame yourself.”
“I went to Alexandria to help. I never meant to put you in danger. Who would want to hurt you?” She grasped his hand. “Is there someone who would be angry enough with you to destroy your crops and burn your barn? Could all your troubles be traced to the same person?”
Thomas rubbed his jaw. After a moment of silence, he said, “It could be. If this telegram came weeks ago, then the man on the black horse could have done all this.”
“Did you see him at the saloon?”
He shook his head. “No, he was gone. Silas, the owner, said he was a fine gentleman and not someone to be worried about. Neither the sheriff nor I know the man. When Margaret got there, she got more out of Silas than we had. She cornered him and managed to learn that the man’s from out of town and goes by the name Jesse Bordeaux.”
“Do you know who that is?” She pulled out a piece of paper from the bedside table and wrote down the man’s name.
“No.”
“I will send a telegram to Roland and see if he will look up the name. If it’s an alias, then we won’t find anything. Where was the man? Did Silas know?” Penny held her paper ready.
“You sound like a detective.” He smiled at her. “I think it’s charming. Silas didn’t say where the man had gone. He only said he was gone for the day. That he was gone more than he was there. I’ll check back later.”
“When we find him, we need to find out where he’s from. What if we asked one of the girls at the saloon to get some answers from him?”
Thomas rubbed his forehead. “It could work, but he might just lie. What else do you think we ought to ask?”
She twirled the pencil in her fingers while she thought. “Twice we’ve seen him ride off to Jeb’s house. What do you think Jeb has to do with all this? Could Jeb know anyone from your past?”
“That’s the part I can’t figure out. Jeb hasn’t liked me from the start, but now with your telegram and Silas saying this man’s from out of town, I’m wondering whether the men have a connection or not. None of it makes sense.” He stood up and paced across the room. “I think I’ll go find the sheriff and tell him about the telegram. Will you write out what you want me to wire Roland and I’ll take it?” He cleared his throat. “I’ll pay to send it too.”
“You don’t have to.” She began adding up what a telegram would cost her and figuring how much she’d have left.
“I insist. It’s my mess to sort out. I’m grateful for your help. Besides, if I pay for a few things, it’ll stretch your money and you can stay longer.”
She looked up from her paper and held his gaze. “You don’t want me to go?”
“No.” He waited while she scribbled her note.
Her hand shook as she wrote. “Here.” She handed it to him.
“Thank you.”
“Will you take Honey across the street to the Howells’? The twins said they’d take her outside and watch her for me today. She’s getting restless just sitting here.”
“Of course. Come on, Honey.” Thomas snapped his fingers and waited while Honey made her way over to him. “Are you sure she’s ready to go out?”
“The doctor said it’d be good for her. She’s tired of being trapped in here. I think she needs exercise.”
He nodded. “Very well. I’ll be back tonight.”
“Thomas.”
“Yes?”
“You will be careful? Margaret has told me stories of Jeb, and when she speaks of him I feel afraid deep inside. Something about the man worries me. And now with the telegram . . .”
“I’ll be safe.” He grinned. “So this is what it feels like to have a woman worry about me?”
“Is it so horrible?”
“No. It’s something I could certainly get used to.”
26
Dear Eliza,
Thank you for visiting me. I am often alone as I sit and wait for my leg to heal. I believe a visitor is the greatest gift an invalid can be given. I am writing you now not only to thank you but to ask you a question. You see, I have gotten to know Thomas Conner and he is a good man. Before he lived here, he had troubles in Alexandria. I will not make excuses for the man he was before. But I am afraid for him now. I worry his troubles have followed him. And I believe even if we cannot go back in time and undo the past, we can move forward and have a better future. I want that for Thomas. I worry, though, that he’ll not be able to do all the good things he has planned if he is always haunted or even hunted by his past. I worry for his safety. He could have died in the fire. Will whoever did this take his life next?
I don’t know what you know or if you know anything. But I beg you to come forward if you do. Help him if you can. There must be some way you can help without putting yourself in jeopardy. I don’t claim to know your own struggles, and I’d never wish to belittle them, but are they so great that they would keep you from speaking up? A man could die.
I hope someday to know you better. I’d love to hear your story and share mine with you.
Best wishes,
Penny
“Margaret.”
“Yes?”
Penny folded the letter as she spoke. “Do you think there is a way to get a letter to Eliza? I learned at the dead letter office to follow up on any lead I found until it turned up dead. I still think Eliza knows something.”
Margaret set down the tray she’d been carrying. “There might be a way. I know Norbert Frintz is a hand out there. He eats here most every night. Do you remember him? He has a scraggly blond beard and always wears suspenders.”
“I don’t recall.”
“No matter. I trust him. He’s been eating here for months now, and we’ve shared enough small talk that I think he’s a decent man. If I told him you had a personal letter for Eliza’s eyes only, I think he’d get it to her.”
Penny handed over the letter. “I’d appreciate it. I have to try.”
“You’re worried about Thomas, aren’t you?”
Penny nodded. “I am. I wish my leg would heal faster so I could be out there with him putting all the pieces together. I’m afraid whoever did this will not stop. I may be only a guest in this town, but I worry about the people here. I want everyone to be safe, especially Thomas.”
“I know the sheriff has a lot of his trusted men keeping an eye out. Em and Caleb are staying with the Howells for a fe
w days. He was the sheriff not too long ago, and he’s agreed to help watch the town. I think Thomas will be safe enough.”
“Safe enough is not good enough.” Penny sat up straight. “I thought Azure Springs was without problems. It seemed so quaint and perfect when I first came.”
“Every place has problems. We’ve our fair share of sickness, we’ve a wicked saloon owner, and we’ve prideful men. But if you look around, you’ll see that everyone bands together when those hard times come. Thomas hasn’t been here long and already people are quietly rallying behind him. That’s what counts.” She walked toward the door. “I’ve got to start the evening meal. You get some rest. I hear you’re eating at the private table again.”
Penny bit her lip. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I will never mind watching two people I care about fall in love.” She winked, then walked out and closed the door.
“He didn’t return all day. The sheriff convinced someone to notify us when he arrives back at the saloon.” Thomas sat across the little table from Penny.
“I wrote a letter to Eliza. Margaret knows someone, a man named Norbert, who can get it to her. I’m hoping she’ll decide to tell us something.”
“It still doesn’t make any sense to me. I can’t reconcile the telegram with what’s been happening around here.” He sat back and let out a frustrated sigh. “Let’s talk of other things tonight. My head has been spinning all day trying to figure this out.”
“All right.” She scrunched up her nose. “Hmm. If you capture the man who rides the black horse, what then?”
“When I’ve had time, I’ve been thinking on it. I even sent out a few inquiries. I think I’m going to invest in all the big harvest equipment and create a business that allows men like Hugh to farm their land faster and more efficiently. I’ll rent out the equipment somehow. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll do it fairly. When I’m not doing that, I’ll help them find good buyers for their crops and get the best deals on seed.” He reached for her hand. It had become almost instinctual to hold her hand whenever he was nervous or excited. “I think it’ll be good work—and it’ll make a difference. Right now only men with deep pockets can afford the best equipment.”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea. Where will you live?”
He looked out at the vast and beautiful rolling hills. “I don’t know. I like the peace at the Dawson farm, but I’m not sure if I’ll stay that far out. I’ll have to see if I can work the land and run the business.”
She looked at him with her sparkling green eyes. “I think whatever you do, you’ll do well.”
“What about you?”
“I worked on a letter last night to my mother. I’ve officially decided I will go back to the dead letter office. I want to be near my mother, but I don’t want to go back to the world that rejected us. And I’m not willing to court or marry just to please my uncle.” She shifted about. “I think when the nights get lonely and I am tempted to feel sorry for myself, I will write my novel. I think I’d like that. When I read mail at the office, I learned so many fascinating life stories. Only bits and pieces of them though. I’d read about a new baby or a big harvest or a terrible feud. I think I’d like to write the rest of those stories. Fill in all the holes.”
He squeezed her hand. “I thought you were going to write about a city boy turned farmer.”
“That will be my first book. But I still can’t figure out what the ending will be.”
“Excuse me.” Margaret approached them. “I’ve two bits of news for you. First, the twins have sent word that Honey jumped in the mud today. I can’t decide if that is good news or bad news, but I do believe it means she is beginning to feel like her old self. The second is that this telegram came.” Margaret held out a thin piece of paper.
Penny grabbed it and quickly opened it.
Dead ends on the name. Might be Finley. That name was in our guest registry.
“Finley. Like Clara Finley?”
Thomas reached quickly for the telegram. “What’s the guest registry?”
“We keep track of who comes to the office. There are valuables in there, so the office isn’t open to everyone. What do you think a man by the name of Finley was doing there?”
Thomas stood up from the table. “I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “That’s not true. I do know. It may have been Clara’s father, Oscar. He was the angriest of them all when Clara died. Well, angry and hurt. I can’t blame him. She was his only daughter. He went around town telling everyone how I killed her. His influence was great and everyone believed him. I believed him. I was exiled in large part because of him.”
Margaret walked toward the back of the boardinghouse. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned back. “I have to go and serve dinner. Let me know if you need me.”
“Thank you, Margaret,” Thomas said.
“But would Oscar Finley come all this way? You left. Hadn’t he already won?” Penny furrowed her brow. “It’s not right to seek revenge like that.”
“It’s all right, Penny. It wasn’t a war between good men and bad men. He was a hurting man and I was an easy target.” He picked up his hat from a nearby bench. “I think I’ll go over to the saloon and wait until he returns. I thought running away would solve this, but I think—I know—I need to face it.”
“Will you be safe?” she asked. “I worry every time you leave. I think you should wait for the sheriff. If he’s as angry as you say, he may have a gun. He could kill you.”
“I have to do this. I have to make peace somehow. The letters were my way of finding peace for myself, but I need to fall at the feet of Clara’s father and let him know how truly sorry I am.”
“Promise me you won’t do anything dangerous.”
He sat on the edge of his chair, leaned toward her, and looked into her eyes. “I promise you, Penelope Ercanbeck, I’ll be back. I have to. I don’t want the city boy’s story to have a sad ending.” He inched closer and kissed her forehead.
She leaned into his touch. “I don’t want it to either. I want it to have a perfectly blissful ending.”
He pressed another kiss to her forehead. “It’ll be blissful.” He kissed her cheek then. With his face near hers, he whispered, “Your story will have a happy ending too. I’m certain of it.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Dinah says some stories don’t work out the way we want them to.”
“But some do.” He pressed his lips to her cheek again, this time letting them linger. With his face beside hers, he whispered, “Some even work out better than we expect.”
She nodded. His hand came gently under her chin and tilted it upward. Their eyes locked. He leaned in so close he could feel her breath upon his skin.
“Penny,” he whispered.
“Yes?”
He pressed his lips to hers. For one brief moment, there was no man on a black horse, no burnt barns or trampled fields. “Some stories do end with happily ever after,” he said when their lips parted. He wrapped his arms around her. An almost desperate need to hold her overpowered him. He wanted a future full of Penny and her sweetness. “I’ll come back. We’ll figure out our story together.”
Her head bobbed against him. When he pulled away, he met her gaze once again. And in her eyes he saw the same desire he felt. “I’ll be back.”
27
Where’s Thomas?” Penny asked when Margaret stepped into her room with a breakfast tray.
“He’s sleeping. He was out all night waiting for Finley, or whoever it was, to come back. Poor man had to spend the entire evening in the saloon.”
“Was he . . . had he been . . . ?”
Margaret laughed. “He was as sober as ever when he walked in this morning. He was grumbling about the place. I wouldn’t worry about his morals. Silas kicked him out, and since there was no sign of the man on the black horse, I sent him to bed.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. “This is for you. It’s from Norbert. He was sent into town for supplie
s and dropped it by. He said he had to wait outside the privy for Eliza to meet him. Jeb doesn’t know.”
“Feels wrong asking a wife to lie to her husband.” She took the letter. “I worry for her.”
“We all do. Poor Abigail is beside herself with worry. None of us know what to do. I’m surprised she even dared to write you. Gives me a little hope though. Either things aren’t as bad as I am tempted to believe they are or at the very least she’s fighting still.”
“I am glad she sent it, even if I do feel a little guilty about how I got it.” Penny tore open the envelope. “I used to read other people’s mail, about their troubles. I never thought I’d actually be in the middle of so many of them.”
“I hope that someday you’ll have a calm, peaceful season. One of those beautiful stretches when the letters you write are filled with nothing but good news.” She sat in the chair by the bed and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’ll stop talking and listen. What news does Eliza send?”
Penny read aloud.
Dear Penny,
I haven’t long, but I’ll try to tell you what I know. I too want Thomas to be safe. I never meant to become the type of woman who conceals the truth. Everyone should feel safe in their own home.
When Thomas bought the old Dawson place, Jeb was angry. He’s always angry, but never like this. The anger just grew day after day. He started going to the saloon more. Most every night he went. One night he came home and was smiling all evil-like. He had a man with him. That night I heard him talking to the man. His name is Oscar Finley. He’s from where Thomas lived before. Thomas played a role in his daughter’s death. The man talked about how his life had been ruined. When Jeb stepped outside to work in the barn, I heard the man crying. I’ve never heard a man sob like he did. There was so much pain in it. I don’t know if I’m ready to declare him an evil man, but the two of them together are not a good combination. They drink and they scheme. One day I heard them talking about how the night watchman was gone and that they’d go then. I didn’t know what they were going to do until I heard about the barn catching fire. I didn’t see what good would come from telling when it was already burned. I was afraid of Jeb. I’ve my reasons for my fears, but I’m sorry. I should have said something.
Yours Truly, Thomas Page 24
