Remember Me When: A Women of Hope Novel

by Ginny Aiken

  Nathan felt more conflicted than ever, relieved by Adam’s words, but still faced with damning evidence against Faith. “Really, now. I have to wonder what leads you to that opinion. We’ve seen a lot against her.”

  “Experience.” Adam walked outside and locked the jail behind him. “And instinct. Just like you.” The marshal led the way down Main Street, the keys to the jail clinking against his gun. “Always known you to have solid, trustworthy instincts, and a good head about you. Doubt you’d ever be so sweet on a woman if she even had a chance of being prone to violence of any sort. And no matter what you tell me, Nathan, you’re sweet on Faith. No shame in that, my friend. No shame at all.”

  Shocked, Nathan followed Adam to the church, not a word breaching his clamped-shut lips.

  There was no truth to Adam’s assertion. He wasn’t sweet on Faith Nolan. He couldn’t be.

  Impossible.

  Oh, Lord…how did I ever reach this point?

  Although, mercifully, the marshal hadn’t used handcuffs on her, nor had he pulled his gun, Faith knew all eyes in Bountiful were focused on her from behind doors and window curtains as she was led to the town jail. She couldn’t imagine a more shameful or mortifying experience.

  Even if Marshal Blair had insisted she was not under arrest nor was he in the process of locking her up. True, it might not be his immediate intent, but Faith was certain by the time all was said and done she would find herself behind bars inside the ugly box of a building. After all, this time, even Reverend Alton believed she was guilty of theft.

  And from the church, no less.

  How wicked did a person have to be to do such a thing?

  She didn’t think she knew anyone that evil, not even Roger. Theo? No, not really. Not even the Nolan brothers could be that bad. But one had to know a body fairly well to know how sinful they might be.

  How could she get these people to know her well enough to understand she wasn’t capable of stealing from anyone, much less a church? She didn’t know. She supposed it had to take time, time spent getting acquainted, time seeing how one acted in all kinds of situations.

  Time she simply didn’t have.

  “Stop fretting,” Mrs. Alton whispered at Faith’s side. The older woman had bustled out of the parsonage when Marshal Blair had led Faith out of the church. “I promise you, it all will turn out fine. The Good Book promises us. Remember, my dear, that all things will work together to the good of those who love the Lord, to those who are called according to His purpose. And while that doesn’t mean our lives will be a delightful walk through a garden of roses, it does mean that God is using all the horrid things that happen to our ultimate good, to help us become more Christlike.”

  Faith sighed, grateful for the lady’s staunch belief in her innocence. “I know what Scripture says, but sometimes I feel I’d like to get a look, even from a distance, of that garden of roses you mention.”

  Mrs. Alton waggled a finger at her. “Ah, ah, ah—”

  “But I also know how I feel. By that verse’s measure, sometimes I reckon I must be coming close to Christlike by now.” When Mrs. Alton’s eyes widened, Faith gave her a wry smile. “I know, I know. It sounds almost blasphemous, but you don’t know how dreadful it’s all been.”

  At that, her stalwart friend relaxed. Tears glittered in her eyes. “I suppose,” she said, “that if one were to look at your situation that way, it’s easier to understand why you feel that way.”

  “I’m exhausted.”

  “That I don’t doubt.”

  There didn’t seem to be more to say, so the women continued in companionable silence.

  But when they reached the jail, there was nothing companionable about the atmosphere there. Along the way, they’d walked past the River Run Hotel. As usual, Theo had been ensconced in one of the rockers, his pal Hector Swope at his side in the other. No sooner had her brother-in-law laid eyes on her in the company of the marshal than he had joined their small party. Like before, he’d advocated for her immediate imprisonment.

  “Been tellin’ all of ya…” he said. Over and over and over again until they reached the jail.

  Inside Marshal Blair’s office, all eyes turned on her. Faith steeled herself against the scrutiny. She refused to speak, to give the appearance of any need to defend herself. If they were going to accuse her, well, it would be their choice. She wouldn’t give them the opening to start. She squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine.

  “Let’s see here, Missus Nolan,” the marshal said. “It seems trouble’s following you mighty close, doesn’t it? I know you’ve already given me an idea of what happened today, but I suggest we hear the whole story all over again. You might could recollect something you forgot earlier.”

  Faith drew a long breath. She went over the events of the day with the same patience and detail as she had done twice before already. At the end of her retelling, the men remained silent, staring at her.

  Every one of them, that is, except Theo Nolan. “See?” he crowed. “I done nothing but tell ya she’s the one what kilt Roger. Then she tried to kill that other feller yesterday. I tell ya, she’s always been big on sprinkling rat poison here, there, and everywhere. Always sayin’ foodstuff in the store drew in rats like not much else. Never seen such a one fer sweepin’ an’ washin’ and fussin’ ’bout dirt and stuff all the time. That’s one more reason she’s the one.” He shook his head.

  The marshal leaned forward, listening intently.

  Reverend Alton’s jaw jutted, and his eyes displayed disapproval.

  His wife drew closer to Faith.

  Faith shook inside, but fought to not let it show.

  Mr. Bartlett raised a brow, glanced from Marshal Blair to Theo to Faith and back to her brother-in-law, his expression quizzical and intent.

  No one spoke. No one but Theo, of course. “Now,” he continued, “she’s gone and stole the church’s money. Ya cain’t deny she’s a bad one, Marshal. Ya gotta lock her up before she does worse.”

  The lawman seemed reluctant to speak, so the silence drew out. When Faith was about to defend herself, Reverend Alton shuffled his feet and spoke out.

  “I must admit, folks, I didn’t want to believe ill of Mrs. Nolan. Not when she first came to us, you understand.” He gave her an apologetic nod, then glanced at Theo, before turning back to Marshal Blair. “But when odd things start to happen all of a sudden, and the only element that always remains the same is one person, why…a conscientious man can’t continue to deny what he sees.”

  “Why, Jeremiah Alton!” His wife’s usually sweet, gentle face donned a thunderous expression. “I’d best not be hearing you cast a stone in this dear child’s direction.”

  “I can’t simply indulge you this time, dear.” His jaw, in turn, set in a firm line. “I don’t know what’s happened, but enough has that I have to doubt Mrs. Nolan’s innocence on all these many counts. I suggest it’s best for the marshal to handle this matter from here on in.”

  She shook her head. “But—”

  A serious husbandly look silenced Faith’s defender.

  Her knees weakened and a shudder ripped through her. An overwhelming wave of fear swirled up and around her.

  Fear thou not, for I am with thee…

  As the Scripture verse bubbled into her memory, Faith began to pray silently. To wait upon the Lord. And to wait for the men to make up their minds.

  The first one to speak came close to breaking what last little speck of heart she had left. Nathan stepped up to the marshal’s desk.

  “I have to agree.” His voice rang out with regret even Faith could hear. “I’ve leaned more toward trusting Faith—Mrs. Nolan—from the start, but too much has happened by now. I can’t let this last go without insisting on the law stepping in. Either she is guilty of these crimes, or she is a victim of them. Either way, it seems it is safest for all, Mrs. Nolan included, if she remains in the jail. A judge is on his way, and it’s best to let him see this through to the end.”
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  Mr. Whitman, who’d hurried into the jail mere moments earlier, clapped a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “I know how fond Olivia’s grown of Mrs. Nolan, Nathan, and I don’t know how I’m going to tell her what’s happened. But I can’t say I’m comfortable leaving her free after a robbery at the church, since she was the only one there when the box went missing. Then, too, she’s been hurt again. She must be kept safe from any more attacks…incidents—accidents perhaps—no matter what.” He shook his head. “Don’t know what’s in Bountiful’s best interests. Or hers. All I know is these things that have happened do call for a complete investigation. For everyone’s sake.”

  Tears burned her eyes. She felt as though a fist were squeezing her chest, breathing had become such a challenge.

  “Dunno why ya’ve not listened to me,” Theo said. “I’ve been right all along. Who knows what else she’s likely to do, if ya go on letting her loose.”

  “Ridiculous!” Mrs. Alton exclaimed. “Jeremiah Alton, I suggest you get yourself off to Folsom’s River Run Hotel tonight. You’ll be needing a place to rest your head. I’m so angry, I’d much rather not argue with you right down to the wee hours of dawn.”

  With that, the lady marched out of the office, her abundant maroon sateen skirts swishing with her every step. She slammed the door for punctuation.

  Faith felt weak, shaky, and without anywhere to sit she began to sink to the floor.

  As she went down, Nathan caught her. Her gaze, previously blurred with tears, cleared as she stared into his eyes. He didn’t flinch, and stared right back, his gaze questioning but no longer warm, kind. The moment stretched in awkward, charged silence.

  Through the flannel of her gray dress, Faith felt the warmth of Nathan’s arm around her back, his strength as he supported her, his growing righteous rage as he stared at a woman he feared capable of such heinous crimes.

  That thought gave her the strength to right herself. She was innocent.

  Faith took a step away from the logger and closer to her jailer. “I’m ready to face whatever I must, Marshal Blair. I know what I’ve done, and what I haven’t, and I’m determined to prove myself incapable of any of these dreadful charges. I am also ready to trust my Lord to see me through. How soon will that judge of yours arrive? I cannot wait to put an end to this madness.”

  Chapter 14

  Two horrid days later, Faith wondered what could possibly have possessed her to accept being locked behind bars so easily. Especially since she hadn’t done anything to warrant imprisonment.

  Nevertheless, rough brick walls chinked together with lumpy mortar surrounded her. Against the far wall, the marshal had set a narrow cot with a thin mattress that gave off a musty scent. It offered scant comfort, seeing as it was stuffed with either straw or hay or corn husks. The ticking itself was dingy, and she cringed any time she had to let it touch her skin. The boards on the wooden floor hadn’t been put in too well, and wide gaps had grown on either side of each wobbly one. Iron bars covered the single window, and precious little light ever stole in, even during the daytime hours.

  The worst indignity, however, was the chipped and discolored enamel chamber pot the jail provided to each cell, sitting right out in the open. Faith cringed whenever her body demanded she surrender her self-respect and put the disgusting thing to use.

  She’d asked for a Bible, but had been denied due to the jail’s utter lack of reading material.

  “You’re the only prisoner who’s ever asked, ma’am,” Marshal Blair had told her, a touch embarrassed by his need to turn her down.

  As soon as Mrs. Alton came to visit, however, a tasty meal in hand, Faith repeated her request.

  “What do you mean, he didn’t find you a Bible?” the reverend’s wife asked, aghast. “That was a most reasonable request, Faith, my dear. How could Adam do such a thing? Him a Christian fellow, and all.”

  Faith experienced a momentary pang of sympathy for the marshal, who was about to feel the exquisitely polite wrath of the righteous lady. “He mentioned I was the first prisoner to ask for anything to read, and in particular for the Good Book.”

  She shook her head, her lips pursed and her brows drawn close together. “Well! I do declare.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him, Mrs. Alton,” Faith said, her sympathy growing. “I’m sure he was doing his job.”

  “Hmph!” She clapped her hands together. “And none too well, I’ll say. We’ll see about providing all the prisoners with a copy of the Father’s Word from now on. That’ll be the Bible Society’s newest missionary outreach, and here in our own backyard.”

  True to form, the reverend’s wife marched out of the jail after she gave Marshal Blair an earful, and less than a half hour later, she returned with a lovely leather-bound copy of the Good Book in hand, one Faith suspected had come directly from the reverend’s office. She didn’t want to think how the man would feel about the woman he believed had stolen from him and his congregation winding up with his book. Perhaps he’d see it as ministering to a sinner who needed God.

  “You do know you could go into my room for my own Bible,” Faith said.

  “This was much quicker than rummaging through your things.”

  Nothing she said had dissuaded Mrs. Alton, and after the lady left, Faith spent hours reading, soaking her bruised heart in the Father’s love.

  The slow-moving time in jail had also provided her with a great number of hours to think. While she knew, without any doubt, that she hadn’t done a thing to put Mr. Parham’s life at risk, nor had she taken a penny of the church’s money, much less the collection box full of the Bible Society’s funds, she had begun to question her memories of the night when Roger had died.

  Then, when Olivia came to visit, the two women went through Faith’s memories over and over again.

  “Tell me one more time what you know—know for absolutely sure—happened the night your husband died,” Olivia requested.

  As her anxiety sharpened again, Faith paced the narrow cell. “It all began when I went against Roger’s wishes that morning, and took Nathan’s supplies to the camp.”

  Each time the two friends shredded the meat off the bones of an event, Olivia would give the details a different turn under the light of scrutiny. And, as had happened each time they’d talked about the relevant parts of the last few weeks, Olivia again gave careful consideration to Faith’s words, and soon enough came up with yet one more new question.

  “I don’t believe you’ve told me exactly why you felt you yourself had to take the order up the mountain,” Olivia said. “I would think it’s more a job for a man than for his wife. Besides, you know as well as I do that there were two perfectly able-bodied Nolan brothers who could have—and should have—done the job themselves.”

  Faith shrugged. “Roger wasn’t especially meticulous about carrying out his duty to his customers. This was at least the second or maybe third time that Nathan’s order disappeared after Roger and Theo brought it to the store from Bountiful but before Nathan came after his supplies.”

  “Disappeared?”

  “I don’t know what else to call it.” Faith’s frustration with Roger had yet to dissipate, in spite of his untimely demise and the time gone by. “One moment everything was stacked neatly in the back storage room, and the next it was gone. I never saw where it went. I never even knew if someone picked it up while I was…oh, busy with the laundry or baking or seeing to the animals in the barn.”

  “Do you think Roger might have taken it on his own? Did he ask Theo to deliver it? Or perhaps, as you said, someone did come for it and you simply didn’t realize it.”

  Faith took the time to consider the possibilities. “Now I think about it, I don’t think so. I always took care of the mules, so I knew each time he took them anywhere, and during the three years of my marriage, Theo never had anything to do with them. Goodness, the whole town knows Theo spends almost all his time down here in Bountiful, far too busy loitering to do any work around the general
store.”

  “Very well, then. I suppose we can rest assured he didn’t take those orders anywhere.” She thought for a moment. Then her expression grew alarmed. “Don’t tell me Roger charged Nathan more than once for those missing shipments.”

  “Oh, no. Roger wasn’t stupid enough to try anything like that. He just didn’t have any scruples about the timely delivery of a complete order.”

  When Faith sat back down on the nasty cot, Olivia stood and paced a bit herself. “So you’re saying the supplies Nathan ordered disappeared more than once. What happened the next time you realized they were gone?”

  “I didn’t know any more than that I’d helped store the supplies in the back room, but then, when I had to fetch something from the back, his order was no longer there.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. Roger had been listening. He came into the store, and took over. Sent me to see to supper.”

  “But you’d been running the store when Nathan arrived.”

  “That’s right. I was there when he arrived, serving a customer. One of his new hired men had come to lay in what he needed for the winter up at the camp.” She shrugged. “Roger gave Nathan a silly answer, but as soon as he left, Roger did put in a new order to replace what had disappeared.”

  “I see…”

  Faith let out a burst of breath. “If that’s the case, my friend…why, I must say, you see far more than I do.”

  Olivia grimaced. “I’m sorry. I used that phrase more as a simple comment. I have to agree. I don’t see too clearly, either.”

  Faith’s frustration gained yet another head of steam. “Yes, Olivia, I understand very, very little of what’s happened so far. All I can tell you is that I made up my mind to get the camp’s replacement supplies up to the men the moment they arrived, no matter how or why they disappeared.”

  Her friend’s expression turned thoughtful again. A few moments later, she asked another of her incisive questions. “Do you suppose Roger sold them?”