Stoner's Crossing

by Judith Pella

“But,” persisted Carolyn, “a discrepancy like that could make a difference, couldn’t it?”

  “In the back of the chest, that’s what I meant. You are grasping at straws, Carolyn, and that will only bring you disappointment.”

  Not wanting emotions to heat up any more than they already were, Carolyn changed the subject. “Will you go to the trial?”

  “They will no doubt subpoena me.”

  “Can we go together?”

  “If you wish.”

  In spite of her grandfather’s intractability regarding her mother, Carolyn felt good as she left the house and headed for the stable. She had to believe that everything was going to turn out all right. Caleb was a hardheaded old man, but in only a few weeks she had gotten him to accept her. It might take longer, but there was no reason why he could not soften toward her mother also.

  Caleb was justified in wondering why this was so important to her. She would have no problem maintaining a relationship with both, even if they were estranged from each other. She knew her mother would not prevent her, and Caleb had accepted her even with the questions of Deborah’s guilt still unsolved. But turning the matter over in her mind, Carolyn realized that it was not for her own sake at all that she desired a healing between Caleb and Deborah. Nor was it for Deborah. Rather, it was almost entirely for Caleb. She had listened to Sam’s preaching enough to know that forgiveness is one of God’s great healers. And Caleb desperately needed healing from the hatred and bitterness he had been carrying all these years. Not physical healing—though, according to Sam, forgiveness often helped relieve physical ailments—but rather a mending of his heart and soul. There was no reason why Caleb Stoner could not spend his final years as a happy man. He was not incapable of such happiness. From what Carolyn had learned about his first marriage, he had been happy with his first wife, Elizabeth.

  Thinking of Elizabeth Stoner, Carolyn’s grandmother, made her cognizant of the fact that Caleb’s bitterness had begun before Deborah ever came into his life. According to Deborah, the marriage to his second wife had been disastrous. Deborah hadn’t said much about Caleb’s two sons from this marriage, not even mentioned them by name, but she had said that they hated Caleb not only because of his demeaning treatment toward them, but also because of how he had made their mother unhappy.

  Maybe I am being too idealistic, thinking that forgiving my mother will make everything better for Grandfather, Carolyn thought to herself. There’s probably something eating at him that goes far deeper than that.

  What could it be? And wasn’t it possible for God to heal even that? Her faith was strong enough to believe God could do it. But Caleb had to pursue forgiveness himself, want it, ask for it—and that’s where Carolyn’s faith faltered a little. It was hard for her to picture Caleb a repentant man, on his knees crying out to God. All things were possible, yes—but Caleb, head bowed, hands clasped, beseeching God in anguished humility? That was not an image that could take any substantial form in Carolyn’s mind.

  47

  In the stable, Carolyn encountered the two men she was most reticent about seeing. Sean and Laban were standing near the entrance talking together. She couldn’t avoid them.

  Sean’s broad, handsome grin made her wonder why she wanted to avoid him anyway. “Hello, Carolyn!” he said cheerfully. “My morning is starting to look a lot better!”

  “Hi, Sean.” She gave him a smile that faded as she acknowledged her uncle. “And Laban.”

  “What happened to you?” Sean asked, noting the cut over her eyebrow.

  She couldn’t help a skittish glance toward Laban. “I fell off my horse.”

  “You?”

  “Guess it could happen to anybody.”

  Laban gave her a scowl. “You should be more careful,” he said, without sounding the least bit sincere. “Too many accidents can happen on a ranch.”

  “Reckon I learned that the hard way. You can be sure I won’t let it happen again.”

  “So, what are you up to today, Carolyn?” Sean asked, apparently oblivious to the taut exchange, rife with double meanings, between niece and uncle.

  “I just was going riding for a while. Want to join me?” Her invitation slipped out before she even realized what she was saying. When she was around Sean, all her good sense seemed to melt away.

  Sean was about to answer when Laban broke in sharply, “Remember what I said, Toliver. You have important work today. I don’t want you to be distracted.”

  “All right. But you take all the fun out of life.”

  Laban glared at Sean, then stalked away.

  After he exited the stable and was out of sight, Sean shook his head. “That man is going to go too far someday. He thinks he’s so high-and-mighty because he’s the Patrón’s son.”

  “I’d be careful around him if I were you, Sean,” said Carolyn. “I think he is a dangerous man.”

  “Well, Carolyn, you only know the charming side of me, but I can be pretty dangerous myself when I want to. I’m not accustomed to groveling before any man.”

  “Why do you stay around here, Sean? You could probably get a good job at any other ranch.”

  “Won’t be long before I’m not going to have to work for any man. I guess I can be patient a little longer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never you mind about that,” he said cryptically. He grinned, showing a set of perfect white teeth. He put his arm around Carolyn’s waist and drew her close. “Let’s not waste the only minute we’re liable to get together today on talk.” He bent down and kissed her lips with passion, if not with the same force he had used before.

  Carolyn melted into that compelling kiss and briefly returned it. Then, in a moment, she got hold of her emotions and pulled away.

  “Sean…”

  “Not again, love.” There was more than a hint of disapproval in Sean’s tone.

  Carolyn tried hard to be firm. “Sean, I’m just not ready for this. What you expect…well, I think it’s something that ought to be saved for marriage.”

  “Marriage?” His voice was filled with amusement as he spoke the word.

  “Yes, and I really don’t think either of us are ready for that—at least I’m not. Is that what you want, Sean?”

  She sounded so innocent, so naive, that even she heard it in her small voice. She hated being that way before a man like Sean, and yet…that’s exactly what she was. Something deep inside—something that was at last beginning to awaken within her—told her that if Sean was any kind of a man, a suitor, a potential husband, he ought to be able to respect her in that way. Perhaps this sensitivity in her had been heightened during her evening with Matt Gentry, which had given her a standard by which to compare. Matt had indeed accepted her for what she was and hadn’t tried to take advantage of her. And that was how most of the men in Carolyn’s life had related to her: Sam, Griff, her brother, Longjim, and most of the other hands at the Wind Rider Ranch.

  Perhaps Sean’s very difference from the others had allured her in the first place. A girl does long for romance, and Sean Toliver was indeed the fulfillment of every young girl’s romantic fantasy, so much so that Carolyn was often blinded to the glaring flaws in his character—his arrogance, his demanding nature, his insensitivity. She had a hard time seeing past the charming smile, the handsome looks, the smooth words; she hadn’t seen that his smile was not often reflected in his eyes, or that there was a hard edge to both his looks and his silvery words. She hadn’t seen, or perhaps didn’t want to see, that the man’s appeal went no deeper than his tawny skin.

  Until now.

  Her vision was gradually clearing. Her physical yearnings might still cloud her perceptions, but the long years of training during her growing up and the example of men she loved and respected were at last being felt. She was at least able to see that no man except a husband was worth giving up that most special part of her heart and soul.

  “So, you want to get married, little Carolyn?” Even Carolyn could read the
sarcasm in Sean’s voice as it intruded into her brief thoughts.

  “Not in the near future,” she was able to say.

  He took her chin in his hand and stared deep and long into her eyes. For the first time she saw more than cool cynicism there—could it actually have been real affection, or at least sympathy? Or was that only what she wanted to see there? Why did it puzzle her so?

  “Who knows, Carolyn, I might still be waiting when you are all grown up and ready for me.” He kissed her again, then said briskly, “Well, work calls. I’ll see you later—and I mean that.”

  Before she could respond, he turned and strode from the stable.

  48

  Carolyn stayed close to the house the next day, partly hoping to avoid Sean, but mostly because she had awakened that morning impressed strongly by the urgency to help her mother. She had learned so little, and she now had less than a week to find the answers that would save her mother.

  When her grandfather went out after breakfast, Carolyn forced herself to search his room. Her heart was pounding and her stomach was in knots as she entered what was like the “inner sanctum” of a shrine. Caleb’s private domain. He’d no doubt skin her alive if he caught her. But after a brief search, she realized all her turmoil was for naught. There were no readily visible personal or sentimental items about. She had no way of searching the two or three locked drawers and cases in the room, but she’d have to figure out something.

  She slipped from the room and quietly closed the door. She was turning from the door when a voice made her freeze, shocking her so that she thought her heart would stop.

  “There you are, Carolyn.”

  She spun around, and her white face revealed her guilt for all to see. She was so shaken she could hardly feel relief that the owner of the voice proved to be Ramón.

  “What are you doing up here, Ramón? You scared the dickens out of me.”

  “Juana was busy and she told me to find you. I think maybe I came at a bad time.”

  Carolyn lowered her voice as she spoke. “I was just searching in my grandfather’s room.”

  “Any luck this time?”

  “None. So why were you looking for me?”

  “A fellow just rode in from town with a message for you. He said it was real important and you should let him know right away if there is a reply.” He handed Carolyn a folded paper.

  Carolyn opened it quickly and read: I thought it best I not come in person, but want very much to see you. When would be a good time? Sam.

  “Get my horse, Ramón.”

  “What about your reply to the message?”

  “That is my answer. I’m going to town.”

  ****

  Sam was sitting with another man at a table in the hotel lobby when Carolyn arrived. He barely got to his feet before Carolyn hurried to him and gave him a warm hug. What a joy it was to see a face from home!

  “Your ma and I were worried about you, Carolyn.”

  “Oh, Sam, I am so glad to see you!” She had been close to calling him Pa. How she wished he were her father. Good, kindhearted Sam, who loved her in a way she was beginning to believe her real father never could have.

  “I got someone for you to meet,” said Sam.

  Jonathan smiled. “My, Sam, you do get exuberant greetings from the prettiest young ladies.” He held out his hand to Carolyn. “I feel as if I know you already, Carolyn. I’m Jonathan Barnum.”

  “This here’s your ma’s lawyer,” added Sam.

  “I’m very glad to meet you, sir,” said Carolyn. The lawyer’s woeful basset-hound features made her want to giggle. And they made him almost instantly endearing.

  “Let’s sit down,” said Sam. “Do you have time to talk, Carolyn?”

  “I sure do, but first tell me, how’s Ma?”

  “As well as can be expected. It ain’t easy for her in that place, but you know your ma! She’s strong, and the Lord is fortifying her. But we’re doing everything we can to speed up her release.”

  “Is it looking good?”

  Jonathan answered. “We were able to make a very good case for a new trial. However, we still have a lot of work ahead of us to make the most of that opportunity. I believe victory will be ours in the end, but it’s not going to be obtained easily. We have one important asset in our favor, that is your mother’s irrefutable innocence.”

  “I hope so, Mr. Barnum,” Carolyn said.

  “Carolyn!” Sam’s voice rose in shock.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I believe she’s innocent, too, but…well, I’m still not sure it wasn’t self-defense.”

  “No, Carolyn!” It was one of the few times Carolyn actually saw Sam get riled. “Your mother did not kill your father, whether in self-defense or by accident, or in any other way. If you don’t believe that, Carolyn, then—” Sam stopped suddenly as he noted the resentment creeping into his tone. He took a breath, and the taut lines on his face softened. “Forgive me. I forget that you must be having a hard time with all this, too, and you are doing the best you can to deal with it.”

  “I want to believe, Sam. But I’ve heard so many confusing things since I’ve come here.” Carolyn, too, breathed in deeply to steady her rising emotions.

  Jonathan spoke quickly to diffuse the tension. “We have work to do, folks, and very little time. Instead of debating what the truth is, let’s investigate it. That’s why you and I came here, Sam.” When Sam nodded, Jonathan continued. “I know I am a perfect stranger to you, Carolyn, but I hope I can garner some of your confidence in all this. I need your support, as does your mother. Would you be willing to help me?”

  “Of course! What do you want me to do?”

  “I understand you’ve been here several weeks now. Can you tell me what you’ve learned?”

  Carolyn’s eagerness faded. “Very little, Mr. Barnum. And nothing new or revealing. My grandfather won’t talk much about it except to say my mother is guilty and deserves to…to hang for what she done. I had a real promising discussion with the housekeeper. She hinted that there might be secrets of some kind hidden away. But she left town without telling me any more than that. I’ve searched most of the house, but so far I’ve found nothing helpful. I’m still thinking of a way to get into some of the locked places without getting caught.”

  “That’s all?”

  Carolyn rubbed her chin as she mentally reexamined all her interactions so far at the Stoner Ranch. She felt a little guilty about getting sidetracked with Sean, but she couldn’t think how things would have been different otherwise. No one was telling her anything, no matter how hard she tried to probe.

  “I’ve spoken to a few people,” she said, trying to be helpful even if she realized it wasn’t much. “But they’ve mostly just told me what I already knew. My ma and pa’s marriage was in a bad way; there were fights, and there’s a possibility that he beat her. Some folks say my pa was a fine, upstanding man; some say he was hard and ruthless. But not many will admit the negative very loudly because Caleb still controls this town.” She paused, trying harder to think of something, anything, that was more substantial. Then she recalled her conversation with Caleb the previous morning. “There is one thing. It ain’t much but—”

  “Small things can turn the tide in legal affairs,” Jonathan encouraged.

  “Well, I was talking to my grandfather yesterday and he said something about my ma shooting his son in the back. The only thing is, another time he talked about a wound in my father’s chest. I called him on the difference, and he said it was all the same and he’d meant ‘back’ all along. It would make a difference, wouldn’t it, if he had been shot in the back or front?”

  “Most definitely, yes,” said the lawyer. “We’d be able to make a much better case for self-defense if the wound were in the front. Had that been the case in the first trial, I think your mother would not have been convicted. Shooting someone in the back implies that the victim had no chance to properly defend himself, and that the suspect could not have acted in his or he
r own defense. But, Carolyn, your mother wants to be exonerated of any part in your father’s death.”

  “I know that.” Carolyn sighed. She wanted that too, of course, but she was afraid that was hoping for too much, and she was subtly trying to brace herself for the other possibility.

  Jonathan spoke again. “While Sam and I are here, we hope to interview anyone we can find who testified in the first trial. Perhaps, having been here for a time, you can help us locate them.”

  “I’ll try. Do you have names?”

  “Your mother provided me with a list as complete as her memory could compile. Let me see…” Barnum opened his leather briefcase and sorted through some papers. “Here it is.” He began reading: “Caleb Stoner…well, we know where to find him, though little good to us. Laban Stoner—”

  “Forget him, too,” said Carolyn. “He’s even more hostile than Caleb. But as far as I’m concerned, I think he killed my father and I’m gonna do what I can to prove it.”

  “Carolyn, don’t you put yourself in any danger,” said Sam.

  Carolyn was saved from responding when Jonathan said, “I will look forward to getting both of them on the stand. Now, how about William Vernon?”

  “That’s the banker. I didn’t know he had testified. I spoke to his wife, Mabel—”

  “Ah, yes, here’s her name.”

  “She’s real sympathetic to Ma and will do what she can to help. And she’s the only one in town who’s not afraid of Caleb. Unfortunately, she didn’t have anything new to say.”

  Jonathan read off several more names that Carolyn couldn’t help with: Sheriff Pollard, Dr. Barrows, and two or three neighboring ranchers. “There was a storekeeper, but Sam learned the man died a couple of years ago. There was also the Stoner housekeeper named Maria—your mother didn’t know her last name. But she was quite old back then—”

  “She’s still alive,” said Carolyn. “She’s the one who told me about the secrets, or whatever. But, like I said, she’s gone to Waco to visit her sister. She left suddenly, and I suspect it was because she doesn’t want to be involved in all this. She’s real loyal to the Stoners, but I think she felt sorry for me, too, and so it was just better for her to leave.”