Nathalie (Sweet Land of Liberty Brides 2)

by Lorena Dove

  “It doesn’t seem so, sir,” Stan said. “Is there anything wrong?” he asked, looking at the telegraph in Isadore’s hand.

  “No, I mean, yes. Stan, can you move up the sentencing hearing to about 15 minutes from now? And if you can, call in Mrs. Stevensen—both of them. I want to see them in my chambers within the hour!”

  “Yes sir, Judge! I’ll go tell the bailiff to bring Dryson in, and send a message to the Stevensens.”

  “Good lad! Hurry, now!”

  Stan rushed out of the room, still not knowing what had come over the judge.

  Isadore read the telegraph again: Trouble at home STOP Pete in my jail STOP Best you get here quick STOP Jake Taslo.

  What could Pete have done to land in jail? Isadore wondered. And if anything’s happened to Nathalie—no, Taslo would have said so. It would take five hours to get to Springvale. If he left in two hours he would be home before sundown. I only hope I can get there in time.

  Chapter Seven | Judge and Be Judged

  Nathalie woke with one thought in her mind—get Peter out of jail. She had dressed quietly and opened her trunk to retrieve the last of her money. The store customers paid mostly on credit, with accounts not due until the end of the month. Meanwhile, she had put nearly all of her money into buying new inventory, some of which had come in and the rest was still on order. She had paid Isadore’s prior bill, bought paint and paid Peter on time. Until the monthly receipts came in, all she had to put down on her counter-claim to adopt Peter was the train money she had reserved for a return ticket, just in case.

  She found the secret compartment and put the money in the pocket of her dress. What if something else happens before the accounts are paid? She thought. No, she couldn’t defy the well-ingrained teaching of her grandfather to always keep a reserve. She had something else of value she could put down for the counter-claim and it would cover the cost of Peter’s bond as well. She pulled the velvet pouch containing her mother’s pearl necklace from the trunk, replaced the money, and put the pouch in her pocket.

  Walking quickly to the store, she came in through the back only to find customers standing on the front porch, waiting for her to open. This is a first, she thought. Hoping they came to buy and not just to gawk and gossip, Nathalie went behind the counter to get the front door key where Peter kept it. She reached in her pocket for her key ring to attach it to, the better to keep it safe now that she was the only one in charge. The velvet pouch got tangled up in her key ring. She pulled it out, untangled the ring from the pouch, and left it on the counter as she went to open the door.

  “Oh, my poor dear, you must be worried sick!” Mrs. Higgens was the first one in, followed by other ladies of the town, their children, and a few curious husbands. The townspeople milled around talking as Mrs. Higgens showed them where Peter had hidden, how he had jumped to try to escape Mr. McGraw’s clutches, and of course how Mrs. Higgens had heroically ran to get Sheriff Taslo.

  The ladies fussed over Nathalie and for the first time, she felt a little bit a part of the town. It seemed that no business at all would be transacted, until a shy woman came in and approached Nathalie.

  “I’d like to pay for the pound of coffee I got last week,” Sonya Johnson said.

  “Why that would be fine, Mrs. Johnson. Let me just check the ledger right here,” said Nathalie. She looked down the list of names and accounts, but could find nothing about a pound of coffee owed by the Johnsons.

  “I don’t know that Peter wrote it down,” Sonya said. “He said I could trade a dozen eggs for them when my hen recommenced to laying,” Mrs. Johnson said.

  “He said what?” Nathalie was shocked. She didn’t think that Peter had it in him to falsify a sale and not put it in the accounts book.

  “Yes, Peter helped me like that sometimes. I always brought in my end of the trade. But this time, well, I know you’ll be needing the cash. Here’s the money for the coffee.”

  Mrs. Johnson put two coins on the counter and quietly slipped back into the small crowd. In her place, a man came up to Nathalie with a similar story. One by one, a handful of people came to the counter to offer the few coins they had to help Peter.

  “Don’t be cross with him, ma’am,” Jim Sanders was saying as Nathalie collected the coins and tried to find a way to enter the sales after the fact in the ledger. “He helped a lot of us when we didn’t have nothing more than a chance to trade back something of value. He said it would come out all right. If I traded my wife’s butter for some sugar, and someone else had sugar but needed butter, it meant no one would go without and no harm to the store, neither.”

  Nathalie had to smile at Peter’s creative bookkeeping and the friends he had made in town. “He was surely right,” she said with a smile.

  The friendly talk in the store came to a sudden stop as a looming shadow filled the doorway. Mr. McGraw stood in his dusty boots, dirty overalls, and grimy hat that sat low over his face. Not bothering to take it off inside, he lumbered toward the counter where Nathalie stood.

  “You—you!” he said, wagging his finger at Nathalie. “You think you can come into town and push people around, hard-working men who’ve been scraping a living from this dirt for ten, twenty years or more? Well, I’ve got a mind to tell you a thing or two, Miss High-and-Mighty.”

  Nathalie took in a quick breath and then squared her shoulders and straightened up as tall as she could for her five-foot-three frame. “Mr. McGraw, I’ve got nothing to say to you here. Our time is set before a judge now. If you have anything to say, you can tell it to him.”

  “Oh, I’ll talk to the judge all right. Won’t take two shakes of a cow’s tail before he sees the light and sends you packing. I’ve got the law on my side. I know my rights.”

  His threatening tone startled Nathalie, but she took in a breath and became angry again when she thought of his cruelty to Peter.

  “We’ll see then, won’t we?” Not wanting him to think she was afraid, Nathalie walked out from behind the counter and looked up at him.

  “If you’ll excuse me, unless you’re here to buy something, I’ve got paying customers to wait on.” She turned and walked into the small group, partly to show she could ignore him, and partly for the protection they would provide her.

  “Hmmpph. I’ve got just as much a right as anyone to browse the store,” he said to her back as Mrs. Higgens and the other women crowded in and moved with Nathalie away from Mr. McGraw.

  McGraw stood alone at the counter with his mouth half open. He came in the store with a lot more on his mind to blast off on Nathalie, but she had ignored him and turned her back on him in front of half the women in town. He put his hands down on the counter as if to squeeze blood out of the wood. He gripped and ungripped his fingers, wishing he had his hands around her haughty neck. He brought one fist down with a loud “Crack!” on the counter.

  Nathalie jumped at the sound. She turned to see him glancing over his shoulder at her as he shoved open the door. Smiling a sick grin of satisfaction, he sauntered out.

  Nathalie let out her breath and laughed as she watched McGraw’s hat making its way past the front window. Her new friends smiled and patted her arm, wishing her luck with her decision to try to adopt Peter.

  “I think it’s wonderful of you Nathalie,” Sonya said. “I wish you and Peter the best, and of course Isadore, too.”

  At the sound of his name, Nathalie blushed and looked away. So much had happened since Isadore left, and he had been no help at all. She wasn’t sure how she would feel when she saw him again.

  Allison Simms was one of the last to leave. “I have to say, Nathalie, I wasn’t sure about you when I first saw you,” she said.

  Me either, Nathalie thought, as she remembered how Allison had looked up at Isadore, expecting him to return her obvious affection.

  “Well, I just wanted to say, I think what you’ve done to the store is nice. I’m glad you came to Springvale.”

  “Thank you, Allison,” Nathalie said, and smiled a
t her. “I think the new dress you made is lovely.”

  “It is, isn’t it? Now if you could just get in a bit of lace or some new buttons,” Allison said.

  Nathalie walked with her to the door. “Can we talk about this next time? I really need to close up for a few minutes and get down to the sheriff’s office. Poor Peter is sitting in jail, and I told him I’d be back this morning to get him out.”

  “Do you want me to stay and keep watch over things?” Allison asked. Seeing Nathalie’s perturbed look, she added, “Of course, I won’t touch a thing. Just give customers a chance to browse while you’re gone.”

  Nathalie felt herself relaxing a bit at Allison’s offer. The friendliness of the people this morning had given her a whole new feeling about the town.

  “That would be fine, Allison. Thank you, I’ll be right back!”

  Nathalie rushed out the door and set off down the street to the sheriff’s office, hoping that Peter was all right after his night in jail.

  ***

  Pete woke up at the crack of dawn to the sound of birds outside his window. He jumped up, ready to take up his pallet and get the store ready for business. Then he saw the striped shadow of the bars where the sunlight poured through the window and realized he still had nothing to do but wait.

  The jail cell wasn’t so bad, it’s just that he was used to moving around a lot more. His muscles felt sore from the position he had laid in all night long, but come to think of it, he felt more secure in the jail cell then he ever had in Old Man McGraw’s house or hayloft.

  He emptied the rest of the water in his cup over his head and scrubbed the cool wetness over his face. He leaned against the wall on his bunk and waited.

  Sheriff Taslo came in with coffee and a tin bowl of hot oats and milk. “Hope you slept well enough, boy. It doesn’t suit me to keep a juvenile locked up just for being a runaway. This’ll all get sorted out in a day or two.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff. I’m sorry to have caused such trouble around here.”

  “Hmmph. Well, you should mind your Pa, no matter who he is. World’s got enough troubles without you young folk strikin’ out on your own every which way.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pete answered. He worried that the sheriff would testify against him to the judge when the time came. Between the sheriff and Old Man McGraw, he didn’t stand a chance at freedom for another three years.

  The thought of returning to hard labor on Mr. McGraw’s farm overwhelmed Pete, and he slumped down on the bunk with his face turned toward the wall and fell back to sleep.

  By mid-morning, Pete heard Miss Nathalie’s voice arguing with the Sheriff.

  “But I had it right here,” she said, patting the pocket of her dress. “I must have put it into my purse, let me just check.”

  Pete could see the corner of Sheriff Taslo’s large wooden desk, and Nathalie was standing across from it going through her bag and patting down her skirt.

  “Miss Nathalie, I can keep your claim on file for just a dollar. But there’s no way I can release Pete to you without you posting the full bond.”

  “What’s this about posting a bond?” Isadore came out of a back office. His stained and rumpled clothes hung on his muscular frame from too many days between washings. He rubbed the two-day-old stubble on his chin.

  “Isadore!” Nathalie rushed to him in excitement. She clung to his arm, her smile brightening her face and eyes shining up at him. “When did you get here? Why haven’t you let Peter out of jail?

  “Darn fool rode most of the night—woke me at 3:00 a.m. to open the jail,” Sheriff Taslo said. “He’s been in there studying the papers since daybreak.”

  Isadore hugged Nathalie to him, smelling the warmth of the sun in her hair. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  Nathalie felt herself relax in the protection of his arms. “You’ve noidea what’s happened, that awful Mr. McGraw wants to take Peter away. And the store is doing better, but—my pearls!” The words came tumbling out all at once.

  “One thing at a time, dear. If there’s something I’ve learned these last weeks, it’s the value of order to keep the facts straight and come to the right decision.”

  Nathalie pulled away to focus her mind. The sensation of being so close to Isadore created an overwhelming desire to just walk away from all her troubles and spend the day talking with him. “Well, have you decided? Can I adopt Peter and we can take him out of here?”

  He looked down at her eager expression, glad in his heart that she was looking at him with such excited anticipation. He even thought, despite his rough appearance, he saw a hint of the admiration he so craved from her. He knew his next words would change all of that.

  “I’m sorry, Nathalie,” he said slowly. “I’ve read through McGraw’s papers and they seem to be in order. I’ve set a hearing at noon, but I’m afraid Pete will have to go back with him.”

  “No! It’s not possible! How can you call that justice?” Nathalie cried. Her face clouded over and he saw the same look of disgust, this time couched in honest dismay.

  “It doesn’t matter what I say, Nathalie. Joe has gone to Faring to pick up Judge Sinclair. He’ll be relieving me and presiding over the hearing.”

  “But you’re still the judge now, aren’t you? Oh Isadore, who would mind if you made this last decision, to release a good boy who otherwise will be returned to a cruel home! Who knows how Mr. McGraw will make him pay for the trouble he’s caused. I can’t bear to think of it!”

  Nathalie saw the resolute look in Isadore’s eyes. Something had changed about him. The happy-go-lucky man who didn’t have a head for business was taking his job seriously. She couldn’t argue with the truth in his eyes. But she didn’t have to look at them anymore, either.

  Chapter 8 | Cleansing Tears

  Nathalie ran out of the Sheriff’s office before Isadore could answer. She felt tears rising in her eyes, and headed back to the store to find her pearls and decide what she would do. She had worked hard, and waited patiently for Isadore to return. She believed his letter when he said he loved her. But the loss of Peter would mean more work for her, and more—she felt responsible for him.

  Allison was standing by the window talking to another young woman from town. Nathalie rushed in to the store and behind the counter.

  “Have you seen them? I left them right here,” Nathalie said.

  “Left what?” Allison stopped talking and came to the counter.

  “A bag, a velvet pouch. Surely you’ve seen it, Allison.”

  “Nathalie, I’ve been here for only 30 minutes and haven’t stepped foot behind the counter,” Allison said.

  She saw Isadore coming past the window and ran to greet him at the door. “Isadore!” she said, and flung her arms around his neck.

  Isadore put his hands on Allison’s waist and gently separated from her embrace. “Why hello, Allison.”

  Nathalie had seen enough. “Allison, I demand you tell me what you’ve done with the pouch. You were the only one here since I left, and…”

  “Whoa, slow down,” Isadore said. “What’s this all about?”

  “Go ahead, take her side! I’m sure she’ll make a fine employee for you—but not for me!” She ran into the back room and out the door, leaving Allison and Isadore staring after her.

  “I swear, Isadore. I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Allison said. “I thought we were friends.”

  “It’s all right, Allison. I’m sure we’ll find the bag. If you’ll excuse me, I have to lock up so I can get back to the jail at noon. Come around tomorrow and I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  He ushered Allison to the door, declining the hug she tried to give him on the way out. Locking up, Isadore went through the back room and across the yard to the cottage.

  ***

  Isadore opened the door and went straight to his mother. “I’m home,” he said, and reached down to kiss her cheek.

  Mrs. Maduro stood and embraced her son. “It’s so good to have you
back! Whatever is the matter with Nathalie? She just ran up the stairs without saying anything.”

  “She’s upset about Pete, and I don’t blame her. It won’t work for her to adopt him. He’s going to have to go home with McGraw.”

  “Oh, dear. The poor things—both of them. They’ve done a tremendous job with the store while you’ve been gone, Issa. But it’s wonderful to have you back! By the feel of your beard, I can tell you could use a good wash and a change of clothes. I imagine your pants could stand up by themselves for all the dust.”

  “I know, Mother. I’ll change in a minute, but I’d like to catch up on the mail. I’ve been worried about another letter from New York.”

  “It’s all there on your desk, Issa. I’ll put on some coffee.” Mrs. Maduro made her way to the kitchen while Isadore when through the envelopes on his desk.

  “Ah, here it is. Silas Jacobson. Let’s see where I stand now.” Isadore opened the letter and began to read.

  “What does it say, Issa?” Mrs. Maduro called from the kitchen.

  Hearing their voices, Nathalie came out of her room to the top of the stairs.

  Isadore scanned the letter. “Hmm. It seems he won’t accept the second partial-payment I sent. He’s begun proceedings and is sending a Mr. Gadsen out to foreclose on the store.”

  Nathalie felt faint and held on to the wall to avoid falling forward down the stairs. Mr. Jacobson—sending—Mr. Gadsen? To foreclose? How long had Mr. Gadsen been working for Silas Jacobson? It wasn’t possible! He was her grandfather’s loyal employee—and her friend!

  Nathalie went back to her room and sat down on the bed. No wonder Silas Jacobson had been able to sell the New York store out from under her, if Gadsen was telling him about her grandfather’s deteriorating health all along. She couldn’t believe it, but her hard-nosed business sense told her it must be true. And now Jacobson would get it all: the money from his half of the store, and now hers.

  And this had worked out well for Isadore, also. He didn’t even want the store. She wasn’t sure why he had sent for her! Now she was here in South Dakota, all alone, with her pearl necklace lost, Peter gone, and Isadore not the man he had seemed at all. She went to her trunk and fetched the last of her money she had saved for a train ticket back to New York. She couldn’t bear to see Gadsen or watch him come to take away the fruit of her hard labor these last weeks. She could be of no help to Peter. She might as well leave now.