“Yes, sir. We understand each other .”
“Good.” His head bobbed. In a few minutes, soft snores filled the porch. Johnny leaned over and gently removed the pipe from the judge’s hand.
Ragan pushed the screen open with her hip, balancing a wicker basket.
Johnny got up to help. “I’ll get that for you.”
She smiled. “Thought you might walk me home.”
“I’d like that.”
A full moon lit the path to the Ramsey place. As Ragan walked hand in hand with Johnny, the companionable silence was a far cry from the turmoil of the day’s events.
“It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?”
“I could have lived without it.”
“Johnny.” She paused in the middle of the road, moonlight playing across her feminine softness. “I’m glad you’re staying.”
He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Three hours ago you wanted me sent to prison.”
“I want you alive.”
His hand tightened on hers, and they walked on. “I’ll be staying a while.”
“For me?”
“Might be. You or Kitty.” He drew her closer as they walked.
“What about Bledso?”
He wished he knew. “Maybe someone will mistake him for a polecat and shoot him.”
She leaned up for a kiss. “Just so it’s not you.”
Maybe someone would mistake him for a polecat and kill him. Stranger things had happened. It would be nice to think about settling down in a place like Barren Flats with a woman like Ragan Ramsey.
When they set off again, Ragan giggled. “Some thought the blast was an earthquake. What did you think?”
“I didn’t have time to think. I was flat on my back, staring up at the sky.”
They broke into infectious laughter. Each time one gained control, the other burst out laughing again.
“I thought Florence was going to beat Hubie with that umbrella!”
“She did! I saw her whack him a couple of times on the way back to town.”
“She was as mad as that old hen Everett nicked during the practice.” He told Ragan about Everett’s wild shooting and his attempts to teach him to hit the target. “I was trying to help him win the Greener. But in addition, I wanted to know where I could put my hands on a gun if Bledso ever rode through. I’m not proud of it, and I knew I was putting the judge’s program in jeopardy, but I didn’t touch the gun, Ragan, and I wouldn’t have unless I’d had to.”
She sighed softly. “I understand what drove you to that, but it worries me that you would consider putting the judge’s program in jeopardy for any reason. God has shown you mercy, Johnny. Judge Leonard could have hanged you that day.”
“I’ve considered that.”
It was hard to confess his motives, even to her, but he was proud of the friendship he had established with Everett. And it felt good to no longer be hiding anything from her.
“At least the mystery of the donkey cart is solved,” Ragan said.
“I wonder how many late-night trips Carl and Hubie made carrying that home brew out there.”
“More than they’d admit, I bet. There was a lot of fuel for that fire.” They broke into laughter again.
When they arrived at the Ramseys’, the house interior was dark. Ragan stepped up on the porch and peered in the front window. Everyone had retired for the night. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I hope the girls weren’t worried about me.”
Johnny set the basket on the step. “Do you have to go in this soon?”
“Well,” she sighed, coming back down the steps. “It’s been a long day, and you have to be up earlier than usual in the morning.” She met his gaze and burst out laughing again.
It took a second for him to join her. “Not funny,” he said reaching for her.
“Shhh.” She giggled, laying a finger across his mouth. “We’ll wake the family.”
He slowly pulled her to him, lowering his mouth to taste each sweet-smelling fingertip that still held the flavor of supper. When she murmured her pleasure, he drew her into his arms. “You’re beginning to grow on me, you know that?”
She leaned closer, offering her neck. Pushing her hair aside, he kissed her fragrant skin, resting his mouth against her ear. “You smell good too.”
Closing his eyes, he drank in her essence. Moonlight and the faint scent of the judge’s tobacco on her dress. She fit him as if she were made for him. Maybe God was trying to make up for a wrong.
“It’s Maddy’s lemon water. I sneak a dab here and there.” Her breathing switched tempos. “Procky said he didn’t mind. It makes him think of his wife.”
Turning her into him, he kissed her, lightly at first, then drawing her deeper into his embrace. When their lips parted, she rested her head on his shoulder. “What am I going to do about you?”
“I don’t know, but for what it’s worth, I’m real fond of you too,” he murmured.
“You are?”
“I am.”
“That’s not good enough,” she whispered. “Say you’re fond enough of me that you’ll stay alive for me.”
He pulled her to him again, his mouth closing over hers. He wanted to live for her, more than he’d wanted anything for a long time, but something inside refused to let go of his quest for revenge. A lifetime of hatred was difficult to put aside.
Later that night, when he lay back against his pillow, the faint scent of lemon still lingered on his skin.
Kitty turned around on his chest a couple of times and then plopped down. Twitching her tail, she eyed him sleepily.
Could he give up his pursuit to kill Bledso? Once the issue had been so clear cut, but it was murky now.
Maybe his family’s vindication wasn’t in seeing a worthless, nogood piece of humanity eradicated, but rather from seeing the surviving son productive and happy and going on with his life. It was a new thought, one he’d never imagined before. He closed his eyes, the taste of Ragan still on his lips.
Was it enough for him?
Chapter Forty-Six
A thunderstorm threatened the Founders’ day celebration during the night. Thunder and lightning shook the ground, but by morning the skies had cleared and a bright sun shone on the town. The grass dried, and outdoor activities began in earnest. Teams strung red, white, and blue bunting across both ends of Main Street, and store owners tacked patriotic streamers to their storefronts.
Men swung heavy scythes, and weeds disappeared like magic. Women set up long tables in the churchyard and arranged chairs. The south end of Barren Flats began to look like a county fair.
Ragan waved to Jesse Rehop as his wagon rumbled past, loaded with benches for the spectators at the shooting contest. As the mule team topped the rise, Jesse turned and yelled over his shoulder. “Hey, Cliff. Come up here!”
Carl Rayles and Shorty Lynch dropped what they were doing and followed Clifford Kincaid up the hill.
Ragan frowned. What were they gawking at? Johnny and Everett were building the new dynamite shack just beyond the rise. She could hear the ring of hammers from where she stood.
“Excuse me, Minnie. I’m going to see what’s so interesting over there.” She laid a tablecloth aside and walked up the rise to join the men. She could hear their conversation as she approached.
“Now, that’s a fine piece of work. Makes the old structure look downright embarrassing.”
“Shore does. Didn’t know Everett had it in him.”
“Don’t think it’s so much Everett as it is McAllister. I was watching them work the other day. McAllister seems to know what he’s doing with a hammer,” Carl offered.
The four men eased closer and peered at the construction.
“Built real sturdylike. Take a cyclone to topple this one.”
“Or a big blast.” Shorty winked at Carl.
“Admiring the new building, gentleman?”
Ragan tried not to let her pride show, but it was nearly impossible. The new construction
was more than lumber and nails. Johnny was creating one fine piece of work.
“Yes, sir,” Cliff said. “That boy’s a real carpenter.”
Ragan swelled with bliss, and she had to be careful not to strut as she walked back down the hill to rejoin the women. She glanced back over her shoulder, grinning when she heard Carl yell at Johnny and Everett to stop work and come join the festivities.
“C’mon up here, Everett!” Cliff echoed. “You need to get in a little practice before that shootin’ contest this afternoon.”
The thought of Everett throwing his hammer aside and vaulting over the sawhorse tickled Ragan.
The past month, the change in Everett was one more thing the town could attribute to Johnny McAllister.
These days, Everett walked with a new confidence. The strenuous physical labor had produced muscles that were invisible a month ago. Long hours in the hot sun had tanned the clerk’s skin nut-brown, and the hard work had perked up his appetite. He’d packed a good ten pounds of muscle on his lanky frame, and the extra weight suited him well.
By nine o’clock, Main Street was full. Neighbors welcomed relatives from surrounding counties, and friends gathered in small groups.
After lunch, Ragan saw that Julia Curbow had Johnny cornered near the watermelon table, introducing him to all her friends.
“Jonathan, this is my best friend, Lydia, from Cedar Gulch.”
Then a moment later, “Jonathan, this is my best friend, Lucia, from Brown Branch.” The spunky widow dragged Johnny through the crowd, showing him off. “And this is my best friend, Mona Joann, from Tom’s Canyon.”
When Johnny passed Ragan for the third time, she teased in a loud whisper, “Why Jonathan, you are just the sweetest man. Let me introduce you to my best friend.”
Johnny finally escaped Julia’s clutches and found a shady spot for himself and the judge. The two men seemed to be deep in conversation when Ragan noticed them later. She considered taking her two favorite men some lemonade, but she decided they had more important things on their minds.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The judge tapped his pipe bowl. “I’m proud of you, son. You made a mistake, but you’re paying your debt. One slip isn’t going to impede your progress. And you’ve been good for Everett.”
Everett was busy entertaining several of the town’s eligible young women. The new dynamite shack had made the telegraph clerk somewhat of a celebrity.
“He’s a hard worker.”
“That boy was raised in a strange family. His daddy took off soon after Everett was born. An uncle moved in and helped Everett’s mother and grandmother put food on the table, but he was an overbearing man and never had much good to say about the boy. Everett’s mother never quite took to her son, though she raised him with strong moral convictions, and he always did well in school.” The judge sighed. “I suppose that’s why Ragan’s always been so good to him. Over the years, Everett has latched onto her like a lifeline.”
Johnny smiled. Who could blame him?
“Working with you these past few weeks has turned him into a man.”
When Everett spotted the two, he excused himself and walked over to join them. “Afternoon, Judge.”
“Afternoon, Everett. Turned out to be a nice day.”
“Yes, sir, real nice. Can I get you a cool drink, sir?”
“No, think I’ll just go over and help myself to another piece of Mazilea’s chocolate cake. My, that woman can cook.” He wheeled off, heading for the desserts.
Everett fell into step with Johnny, and they walked to the area where the shooting contest was scheduled to start in little under an hour.
“How’s your aim today?”
Everett shrugged. “Not worth a hoot.”
Johnny grinned. “Just remember to keep that arm steady.”
“I’ll try, but however the contest turns out, I’m not doing it for Ragan anymore.”
“No?”
“She’s in love with you, John.”
Johnny shook his head. He was in love with her, but he didn’t know if he could saddle her with a man with a record. “Once my sentence is served, I should be moving on.”
“You’ll break her heart.”
The last thing he wanted to do was break her heart, but he loved her enough to walk away. All of her life she’d been a caretaker; he wanted more for her. Her law degree and eventually a man solid with God and in good standing with the community. He was none of those.
“When I leave, Ragan can go on with her plans. She’ll go off to school, and someday she’ll find a man deserving of her love. I’m not the settling-down kind.”
Clearing his throat, Everett dropped his voice and glanced around. “Shoot fire, I’d hate to see you leave myself. I’ve never had a real friend before…hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, Everett. I was thinking the same about you.”
What are you going to do, McAllister? Put your life on hold forever? Let a woman like Ragan slip through your fingers so you can pursue scum like Bledso? Ignore something like Everett’s admiration and loyalty? Friends like him rarely come along. A friend like that would stand beside you through thick and thin.
Bledso wasn’t worth a hair on Ragan’s or Everett’s head. Why couldn’t he let it go and get on with his life?
“We’re good friends now,” Everett reminded.
Nodding, Johnny concurred.
“I’m giving her to you, John.”
“Who?”
“Ragan.” Everett paused and turned to face Johnny. “I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember, and she likes me—in a brotherly sort of way. But she loves you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I may not be the biggest or smartest man around, but I know Ragan. And she’s in love with you. You’re the best man for her.”
“Best man?” Johnny paused, digesting the gift. “Between the two of us? I’m not the best man, Everett. I’m the ordained man.”
“Huh?”
“I may be the one God has in mind for her, but I cannot imagine why. You’re the best man, and the woman God has for you is out there. You’ll meet her someday, and then you’ll understand just how complex love can be.”
“Well.” Everett grimaced. “She’s taking her own good time getting here.”
The hour for the shooting contest arrived. The men, faces drawn with concentration, had taken their three shots at their targets. There’d been some mighty fine exhibition.
Now, all eyes were centered on the last contestant.
Silence gripped the area.
Everett clutched his big blue pistol and steadied his arm. Sweat beaded his lower lip. Staring down the sight, he slowly squeezed the trigger. His arm jerked upward, and the bullet actually landed on his target.
Carl Rayles checked the board for accuracy and then shook his head. “Well, that was close.”
Everett craned his neck to see. “It was?”
“Weren’t bad. Take your second shot.” Mayor Rayles stepped back, his eyes on the large X.
Hubie Banks paced behind the benches, his eyes glued to the target. The brand-new Greener double-barrel shotgun, displayed in a leathertooled case, rested on a nearby table.
Everett closed one eye, squeezed the butt of the pistol between both fists, and sighted. His eyes closed as the shot rang out.
“Hit it square in the middle this time!”
“Let me see that!” Hubie Banks pushed through the onlookers and snatched the board from the mayor’s hands. He studied the bullet holes, then silently handed back the target.
Everett’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not the judge, Hubie. Go sit down.”
The saloon owner stalked off.
Everett returned to his mark and, taking careful aim, fired his last shot.
“Half inch to the left of the X,” the mayor called out.
Everett bit his lower lip.
“Still pretty good shootin’. Definitely in the running.”
The mayor added Everett’s target to the pile, and the men began to put away their guns. “That’s it for the contest, gentlemen. I’ll announce the winner of the Greener before the fireworks tonight.”
Everett flashed Johnny a relieved grin, and Johnny released the pent-up breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Now he knew what it was like to have a kid.
Toward dark, the festivities started to wind down. Women gathered the leftover food and packed it away, and lanterns were lit. Older children played stickball or captured fireflies in glass canning jars.
Mothers with small babies spread blankets on the ground and settled down to nurse their infants before the annual fireworks display started.
The brand-new shotgun went to Hubie Banks again this year, but Everett came in third. The telegraph clerk shook Banks’ hand and warned him that next year would be different. He turned and met Johnny’s eyes in the crowd, and with a huge grin he saluted him.
While the prizes were distributed, Johnny wandered through the crowd until he located Jo, sitting with Fulton Ramsey. During the day he’d noticed that Ragan’s father seemed more lucid than usual. Tonight his eyes were bright as he watched the activity going on around him, even though it was getting close to his bedtime.
Seating himself on the ground beside Jo, Johnny grinned at her. She smiled back.
“Guess who I just saw at the lemonade stand?”
She lifted her brows. “Who?”
“Benny Dewayne I-can’t-live-without-you Wilson.”
Her eyes lit with excitement. “Is Emma with him?”
“No, I saw her talking to Austin Plummer’s boy.” He leaned closer. “Benny looked like he could use a pretty girl’s company.”
Jumping to her feet, Jo tidied her hair. “Really?”
Chuckling, Johnny said, “Go on. I’ll keep your father company.”
Jo hurried toward the lemonade stand, still fussing with her hair as she walked.
“Enjoying the events, Mr. Ramsey?”
Fulton turned his head. He smiled vaguely, digging in his vest pocket. A moment later he produced a wooden giraffe and pressed it in Johnny’s hand. “God watches over them.”
Johnny nodded. “Yes, sir, he sure does.”
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