by Ginny Aiken
Sweet Father in heaven, where is that strength you promised?
Chapter 18
Nathan couldn’t help but be impressed by Faith’s quiet strength. She’d held herself with such courage as she’d walked down the aisle in the saloon that he’d been powerless to keep from putting one foot before the other and following her outside.
The chill of the wind hit him as deeply as did the shaky state of her future.
He still didn’t understand the connection between the Army men and the Nolan brothers. It was the most unlikely friendship, and he couldn’t see them as drinking partners, certainly not in the way Theo and Hector Swope were.
Had it been about the liquor? They could always take their supplies of spirits to the post and do their drinking there. What else had bound them? What had they been up to?
Nothing good, he feared. His dear mother had always held to the notion that things done under cover of darkness and during the hidden hours of the night were rarely those that put a body in a good light before the Lord. Not that Theo or Roger ever bothered to place themselves in any but the worst light before Nathan, so the brothers likely didn’t worry about the Almighty’s eyes.
At the jail, Nathan bid Faith farewell. Her nod was her only response. With that mantle of nobility about her, she sailed into the prison, and for some odd reason, he felt as though a bit of the light in his world had just gone out.
He scolded himself for the rare, fanciful thought.
As he turned to leave, he heard a man call his name. When he turned, he saw Mr. Peterson hurrying after him, a fist clutching his brown wool coat tight against his neck, his leather satchel clamped tight in his other hand.
“Blasted wind!” the older man groused. “This street is nothing but a huge funnel, hurling these gusts right through your town.” He shuddered. “If you’ll indulge me a bit, Mr. Bartlett, I’d like to beg a few minutes of your time. It’s about Mrs. Nolan’s trial.”
Unease pooled in Nathan’s gut, but he couldn’t see how he could avoid the conversation. He nodded. “Where would you suggest we talk?”
“My room at the hotel,” Mr. Peterson answered. “I don’t know that we’d have enough privacy anywhere else.”
The man’s desire for privacy alarmed Nathan further, but at all times, the lawyer had struck him as a straightforward, sincere man. While curiosity and concern reared their heads, it stood to reason that he wouldn’t learn any more until they reached Mr. Peterson’s room. He didn’t know if he found himself walking faster because of his impatience or because of the biting wind.
In the hotel, the lawyer led him to a small, neat room at the end of the second-floor hall. “It’s rather plain, but it suits me. It provides a bed, a thick, warm quilt, a small wardrobe, and a table and chair. All a man needs to get his work done, and then rest. Please take the chair.”
Although he would rather not sit, Nathan felt he didn’t have a choice. Still, he hoped his natural tendency to pace and fidget when something weighed heavy on his heart wouldn’t rise up and embarrass him. Once settled, he gave Mr. Peterson time to gather his thoughts.
The lawyer set his briefcase at the center of the table, slipped off his gloves and tucked them into the pocket of his coat, then hung the coat from a hook on the wall by the door. Only then did he face Nathan.
“I won’t lie to you, sir. I’m worried. I sometimes can tell where the jury stands, but this time…I’m not certain what they’re thinking.”
Nathan stiffened. “Are you saying you’ve given up?”
“No, no. I haven’t given up yet, and I’ve asked Marshal Blair to bring the three soldiers to town—”
“Marshal Blair and I have spoken with them. We didn’t find anything of interest when we did. Besides, the judge already told the jury to go deliberate the case. Will he call them back? And if he does, then what? He told them to take their time, but I’m sure he won’t want them to delay a decision. Isn’t it too late to bring the soldiers before the jury?”
“The marshal insists he’ll have them here in the morning. We doubt the jury will be done that soon. And I want to buy us some time. Something…something’s missing, not quite right, even though I can’t quite tell you what.”
In spite of his better judgment, a spark of hope sprang to life in a tender corner of Nathan’s heart. “Let’s hope the jury’s not fast at all. You’ve put into words the same odd feeling I’ve had.”
“I’m glad we’re agreed.” Mr. Peterson crossed to the small window, and, while gazing out, continued. “I don’t want to rely on the obvious, since I—and you—have that sense that we’ve missed something. Don’t give up thinking back on all that’s happened, on every conversation you’ve had about the crimes, anything you might have seen and given no importance. The answer usually hides in plain sight.”
Although the lawyer’s words gave him a measure of hope, Nathan felt mounting frustration. What had they all missed? He shook his head. “Here I thought we had little time to try to find the culprit while we waited for the judge’s arrival. We truly have no time now. And yet…I can’t give up.”
Mr. Peterson smiled. “Neither can I. I wouldn’t be much of an advocate if I did, now would I?”
Good to know he didn’t stand alone in his determination to help Faith. Still…“What can we do that hasn’t been done?” he asked.
Mr. Peterson gave Nathan a speculative look. “Well…” he said, drawing out each letter as he continued to stare. “There is something we should consider, since it stands a chance of succeeding.”
“And that would be…?”
“We agree I wouldn’t serve Mrs. Nolan particularly well if I didn’t explore all the legal avenues available, right?”
“That seems obvious.”
“Even though the ideas we consider might appear extreme, right, Mr. Bartlett—”
“Call me Nathan, please.”
“Very well, Nathan.”
He crossed his arms. “Could you explain what you mean by extreme?”
“Unusual, I suppose. Unusual situations sometimes call for unusual solutions.”
Unease began to grow in Nathan’s gut. “How unusual is it for someone to be accused of a crime they didn’t commit?”
“That’s not unusual at all. But we’re dealing with a lady, a lady, Nathan, accused of killing her husband then setting their home on fire to hide what she has done. Not only that, but also the husband’s heir accusing her of stealing the last bit of his inheritance, leaving him destitute as a result of her crimes.”
The unease approached a sickly sensation. “But…you don’t think she did it, do you? All of it? Even poisoning Lewis Parham? And stealing the cash box at the church?”
“I don’t think she’s guilty of any of it, and I encourage you to rest at ease in that regard. It’s just that I can’t reassure the whole town of her innocence.”
“I suppose you have an unusual solution to Faith’s unusual situation in mind. What would that solution be?”
“Remember,” the lawyer said, “what’s most important for me is to protect Mrs. Nolan. There is something you can do that might ensure her safety and her future.” He took a deep breath. “You can propose and take on her debts as your own. That might satisfy Theo’s greedy nature. He might be persuaded to drop the charges against her, which would prevent a hanging sentence. When you make restitution to Theo, she will be out of danger.”
Nathan laughed without much humor. “You’re a bit late with your suggestion, sir. I already tried to marry her. She wasn’t having any of it.”
“Really! And why not? It would seem the most sensible solution.”
Nathan shook his head. “It would, wouldn’t it? But Faith Nolan is made of sterner stuff than most. She already married out of need rather than want once before. She insisted she would never marry again for any but the right reason. She wants abiding love and affection, and neither one of us knows the other well enough for that.”
The lawyer slapped his thigh. “T
he lady is quite something, isn’t she? The more I get to know her, the more I like her.”
Nathan realized that, even though she’d refused his proposal, he found himself in the same position as Mr. Peterson. The thought of a future with her grew stronger inside him. Had he tried hard enough that time to persuade her? Had he taken her refusal much too easily? Should he try again?
Before he could think the notion through, the lawyer continued. “Well, then, if she won’t wed you, we’ll have to find the one who did kill Roger Nolan. And why he did it.”
“How do you suggest we go about it?”
Mr. Peterson made a face, then turned to his satchel. He withdrew the notebook Nathan had seen him use more than once and flipped through the pages in silence. As the silence drew out, Nathan began to grow uncomfortable, but he was reluctant to break the other man’s concentration. The lawyer faced him again when he was about to burst from the wait.
“I don’t have much here about that Indian raid you and your men stopped,” he said. “What can you tell me about it?”
Nathan shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. The Indians left around these parts have been hiding from the soldiers, whose job it is to get them to Idaho. Can’t say as I blame them for wanting to stay on their people’s lands, but the government does have its rules. These men looked hungry, had no money, and winter was coming. I persuaded them to take food and some cash I could spare back then. I doubted the Nolan brothers would feel generous, seeing as it wasn’t in their nature. I negotiated with the Indians, and they left with what I offered. The store was safe.”
“I thought I heard say that Roger did business from time to time with the Indians.”
Nathan shrugged. “He wasn’t reliable. A couple of times, Roger only delivered part of the orders I paid for in advance for my logging camp at the time we’d agreed. I had to wait to receive the rest until…” He thought back. “The first time it happened, I waited until Roger got around to bringing the supplies up the trail—a month, maybe two. The most important time, the time that involves Faith, it took her taking it upon herself for us to get the critical part of our order. Who knows when Roger would have delivered our food.”
“Did he regularly sell food to the Indians?”
“I don’t think it was regular. He likely sold to the Indians any time they could pay his prices. Other times, I doubt he gave a thought to what might happen if he said ‘no’ after he said ‘yes.’” Something Nathan had heard the day he and Adam rode to the fort came to mind. “I wonder… From what I hear, Roger sold quite a bit of liquor to all comers. It seems likely he was selling spirits to the Indians rather than food.”
The lawyer arched a brow. “That’s against—”
“The law. I know. I doubt that would have stopped Roger for one minute. If it meant money in his pocket, he would have broken every law the government passed. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that’s what caused the trouble in the first place that one time I lent a hand to calm things down.”
“Amazing what the lust for liquor can do to a man.”
“And for cash.”
They fell silent, and Nathan thought about all that had gone wrong on account of Roger’s less-than-upright nature. After a bit, he said, “A man has to wonder what part Roger played in his own death.”
The lawyer raised a shoulder. “We won’t know until we find the one who killed him. Which brings me back to what I mentioned a while back. Have you given up on marrying Faith Nolan? The more I learn about the Nolan brothers, the more I think we might stand a chance of changing Theo’s mind about that trial if you get Faith to go along with our plan.”
He hadn’t given the notion much thought after Faith had turned him down. He had been relieved in a way, seeing as how his life would have become even more complicated than it already was had she taken him up on his offer. He had no time for a new bride, no money for Faith’s debts as well as his business. Although he admired her, and in spite of his growing attraction, he still didn’t know her well enough to assure her of any kind of devotion.
“I haven’t much thought along those lines since the day she said no,” he said. “But there’s not much to lose by asking again—aside from another chip off my pride.”
The lawyer smiled and proceeded to encourage Nathan to try. As he listened to the man’s arguments, he couldn’t stop the anticipation that sparked to life inside him. Marrying Faith wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to him. And marrying him was far from the worst that would surely happen to her if…well, if Theo had his way.
He stood. “It makes sense for me to think on it a mite, pray some more, seek the Lord again.”
“Talk to Faith, too, don’t you think?”
“That, too.” He headed for the door. “I’d best be on my way. I’ve a few things to do, and time’s passing fast. I agreed to meet Eli, and he does hate to be left to wait.”
They said their good-byes, and Mr. Peterson walked Nathan to the hotel room door. “Don’t spend too long chewing on this notion,” the lawyer said. “Try and have an answer by morning, please. You don’t have the luxury of time. I suspect that jury will come back with their verdict fairly fast, even if one takes into account the time it’ll take to question the soldiers. And then…unless we have the culprit in hand, it might be too late to strike a deal with Theo.”
As Nathan strode down Main Street toward the Bank of Bountiful, he couldn’t ignore his milling emotions. He’d never been one to jump into anything without a great deal of thought, planning, and consideration from all possible angles.
“What should I do, Lord? I need time to think, to weigh all the problems that might arise. But Peterson wants me to act by morning. I don’t know if I can bring her around to our way of thinking that fast. She’s not one to rush into something like this any more than I am.”
He couldn’t believe he was contemplating marriage again.
Marriage.
To Faith Nolan.
Once again, a reasonable man had urged him to marry her. Was God using these men to bring to Nathan the wisdom he wished for?
He’d tried to win a yes from her once before. It hadn’t worked. Would he succeed this time?
Respect, admiration, and the normal appeal the pretty lady held for him had by now melded into true attraction. He had to be honest, before God and with himself. He could—would—no longer deny it, not after all the hours he’d spent face to face with God.
He cared for Faith, for the woman, even more than for the victim.
Yes, he would do everything in his power to make Faith Nolan his bride.
No matter what it might take.
It had been years since Faith had slept through a whole night in peace. The night before had been no different. And how could it have been otherwise? The jury had been sent to decide her fate. None of those six men had looked at her with anything that even resembled mercy.
No matter how strong her faith, no matter how much at peace she might be with her place in eternity, the fact remained that she didn’t want to die. Not for someone else’s crimes. Someone somewhere knew who had killed Roger and burned the store, who had poisoned the banker, who had set a horse loose on Main Street, who had stolen the cash box from the church.
But, who?
Who had taken the time to make it look as though she’d been the one? Who wanted her gone? Or at the least, locked up for the rest of her life?
She thought back over the scant years of her life. There was so much she hadn’t done…so much she’d missed.
Like freedom, something she’d lost when the Indians killed her folks. Longing filled her heart. She’d never realized how lovely, how joy-filled, how free her years growing up had been. Mama had nearly died, laboring to birth a baby brother that never drew his first breath. The Lord hadn’t blessed the family with another child, so her parents had treasured everything about Faith. She never could have imagined what she would one day face…what her marriage to Roger held in stock.
; She knew marriage wasn’t like that. She’d seen it at home, she’d read about it in Scripture, she’d held the dream in her heart.
Men weren’t all like Roger. She knew.
She knew Papa, Reverend Alton…and Nathan, as well.
Faith remembered Nathan’s proposal. How could she not? It embodied what she’d always wanted. It spoke to her of the future and hope.
She longed for the safety and security she felt when Nathan carried her in his arms, close to his chest. Faith wished his proposal had been real, not something inspired by his sense of duty. While she didn’t know him well enough to feel the kind of love her parents had shared, she wished she’d known herself loved that much. By a man like Nathan Bartlett. He’d come to represent everything she’d ever dreamed of.
To be fair, she didn’t know quite what she felt for him. Her life had been in such turmoil, she didn’t rightly know if she could even name those feelings right then. She knew there was gratitude, but gratitude wasn’t all she felt for the handsome logger. Still, until she knew love existed between her and a man, one like Nathan, she wouldn’t let the need for safety and protection send her into another marriage for practical reasons alone.
Although the future she faced was one of uncertainty, she knew she wanted whatever God had in store for someone like her, the plans He had for her life. She knew if she married Nathan, he’d make sure she had everything she would ever need.
Everything, that was, but the kind of love her parents had shared.
“How are you?”
Faith stiffened at the unexpected greeting. She turned and to her surprise, Nathan stood outside her cell, Adam Blair at his back. The logger stood aside while her jailer unlocked the iron-bar door and let him in.
“I don’t know when the judge will be sending after Missus Nolan,” the marshal said. “But I reckon you’ll have some time for your visit.”
“Thanks, Adam,” Nathan said. He waited until Marshal Blair left before turning to Faith. “How are you?” he asked again, more softly this time.
