Grace

by Peggy McKenzie

  Sheriff Grayson stuck his hat on his head and bolted for the door. He seemed as relieved as she was not to have a pregnant woman taking up residence in his jail. A thought suddenly stopped her short.

  “Mr. Hanover, shouldn’t we notify John about posting bail, won’t that mean he— “

  “Yes, dear. Your husband will be posting your bail. He can come sign the bail bond ticket as soon as we have decided on the exact amount. The sheriff knows where to find him.”

  Sheriff Grayson nodded. “Yep, he said he’d be at the Holy Moses. I’m hoping he won’t be three sheets to the wind like the last time he visited there. It’ll make him signing the bail bond ticket look more coerced, I’m afraid.”

  Grace grabbed her bonnet and shawl and followed the sheriff out the Hanovers front door. Mrs. Hanover hugged her on the porch and Mr. Hanover followed her down the steps. She carried a huge amount of guilt that her new husband was going to have to bare the financial burden of posting her bail. Curious, she gathered up her courage and asked the one question she was afraid to know the answer.

  “Um, Mr. Hanover. Sheriff Grayson. How much money are you thinking the judge will consider adequate for my bail?”

  Mr. Hanover grinned. Then the sheriff grinned.

  “I’d say those beautiful bay horses I’ve always admired should be adequate, don’t you think Grayson?”

  Grace stumbled on the boardwalk. Both gentlemen sandwiching her grabbed an elbow and steadied her.

  “But, John will never turn loose of those horses. They are his pride and joy. “Mr. Hanover added, “And, if I were a less than honorable sort of solicitor, I would arrange for you to be kidnapped just long enough to have a shot at owning those horses. Fine team, aren’t they, Sheriff?”

  Sheriff Grayson turned to Mr. Hanover and grinned, straight white teeth beneath his bushy moustache. Grace had never noticed before but the man was quite handsome when he smiled. And yet, he was not nearly as handsome as the husband who was about to give up his prized team of perfectly match draft horses for a pregnant wife accused of murder. She wondered if love could get any more selfless than that.

  “Oh, hell no! I am not using my team of draft horses for bail.”

  John sat on the bar stool next to Billy Buchanan and it was Deja vu all over again. He wobbled on the stool but this time it was because Billy was falling all over him. He had almost nothing to drink this time.

  “Well, if she’s wanted for murder, you’ll have to post bail. It ain’t a very nice jail but don’t tell the sheriff I said that. He’s kind of partial to his jail, you know.”

  “Billy, maybe you should slow down on that rotgut. Last time you and I were here, it didn’t turn out so good. Here let me order you something to eat. Charlotte--”

  “Yeah, that was something wasn’t it. You. Me. Like old times. Except this time, you were getting married. To a stranger.”

  Billy slide off the bar stool and John caught him before he hit the floor.

  “Let’s go sit at a table. Charlotte, bring Billy’s food over here when it’s ready.”

  “Sure thing, John.” Charlotte sashayed close in and pushed her breasts on John’s arm. John pulled his arm away and pushed Billy’s chair closer to the table so he could lay his head down if he needed to and from the looks of the way he was swaying, he’d need to any minute. Charlotte huffed and left them alone.

  “You member last time you got married? ‘Member? With Lizzie.”

  John braced himself for the stab of pain Lizzie’s memory always delivered. He was surprised when it didn’t come.

  “Yeah, Billy. I remember. It seems like only yesterday and then other times it seems like a lifetime ago.”

  John twirled the brown liquid in his glass wishing he could erase the memory of Lizzie and his child laying in their bed—ash gray. Stone cold. He shook his head to rid himself of the vision.

  “Let’s talk about something else, Billy. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. I can’t be fighting ghosts from the past when I have a real life wife who could be in serious trouble.”

  “Yeah, I’m real sorry about that, John. She didn’t look like a murderer. She had a real kind face.”

  John sat for a minute filtering through the chaos in his mind. Something Billy said wasn’t right. But what was it?

  “Billy? What do you mean you are sorry about that and she didn’t look like a murderer?”

  Billy stopped all movement. He sat stone still but John could tell his drunken mind was spinning as fast as it could. What was going on here? “Billy. I asked you a question. What did you mean--?”

  “When I saw her at the general store. She looked real nice. Not at all like someone who would kill someone.”

  John shook his head trying to separate the web of lies from the truth. It was in there. John knew he had the answer. He just couldn’t get it to come out in an orderly fashion. He pushed his drank away. Think, John. Think.

  “You saw Grace in the general store. But how did you know she was wanted for murder, Billy?”

  He watched Billy’s panicked face. So the little shit did know something. But what? If he knew about Grace being wanted for murder, he had to have seen the wanted poster. But he hadn’t met Grace then. So he didn’t know the woman on the wanted poster was his new bride. Grace wasn’t from here, so how could he have known?

  “You son-of-a-bitch! You were waiting at the train station when Grace arrived that day. You wrote that letter to Grace in Kansas City. You proposed marriage to her. On my behalf! You didn’t say a damned word the day she arrived. In fact, you were the one plying me with liquor to get me good and drunk. To make damn sure I married her.”

  He could tell by the fear in Billy’s eyes he had hit the mark head on. Why would Billy do such a thing? It was beyond his comprehension. But God as his witness he would get to the truth or he would go to jail for beating the holy hell out of his former best friend.

  He stood and grabbed Billy by the scruff of the neck.

  “You better get to talking you little bastard or I’m gonna wipe this floor with your bare-naked sorry ass.”

  He figured Billy would fight back but instead he rolled up in a ball and began sobbing. What the hell?

  He dropped Billy on to the floor. When Billy just hid his face in his arms, John sat on the floor next to him and waited. Charlotte brought Billy’s food. John waived her away.

  “Billy? What’s goin’ on? How—why would you bring someone here to be my wife when you know what happened to Lizzie? It doesn’t make sense.”

  John watched Billy sobbing, trying to understand what could possibly have happened. Nothing he came up with made any sense. Losing his patience, he grabbed Billy by his shirt collar and sat him up straight.

  “Talk or I’m gonna beat the livin’ daylights out of you, Billy Joe Buchanan. Tell me what you did!” He screamed in Billy’s face. He saw the resignation in Billy’s eyes so he let go his collar and waited beside his longtime friend. “Now tell me what the hell you did.”

  Billy wiped his eyes and nose across his sleeve. John watched him sit hunched on the floor. Billy wouldn’t look in John’s direction but he finally did start talking.

  “So, John. How long we been friends, you think?”

  Irritated, John shrugged. “I don’t know, Billy. Since we were in nappers I guess. What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Yeah, we been best pals since I can remember. We did everything together. Remember? We fished. And hunted. And when we got old enough, we chased us some girls. That is until Lizzie. You remember that day when I was teasin’ her and I made her cry. She ran to you, John. You were her hero, she said. You remember that day?”

  Billy picked at a hole in the knee of his pants.

  “Yeah, I remember Billy. What has that got to do--,”

  “You were her hero. She thought I was nothing but a fool. A joke. And from that day on, you two were stuck like glue. You. And Lizzie.”

  John watched the sadness in his friend’s fa
ce trying to figure out what this had to do with Grace. And then it hit him.

  “You loved her too. You wanted Lizzie. And she chose me.”

  Billy nodded.

  “That must have hurt. A lot. But you never said anything. To either of us.”

  “That’s not quite true, Johnny Boy.”

  Billy pulled himself up by the back of the bar chair and turned wounded eyes on John.

  “That’s not quite true.”

  John stood with Billy and waited to see what he would do next. He had to know the truth and it seemed Billy had something to get off his chest.

  “You and Lizzie were so happy. And I was happy for you. I truly was. As much as I could be knowing my best friend married the only girl I would ever love.”

  “Billy. You’ve had plenty of girls since then. I’ve seen you around town— “

  Billy threw the plate of food across the room and everyone in the Holy Moses stopped what they were doing. John shook his head at Charlotte to leave the plate where it lay. The place was now deathly quiet. Every customer focused on the two of them, curiosity in their faces. John was beginning to fear the truth Billy was about to share.

  “But not like Lizzie. I didn’t love them other girls. They was just girls I used to fill in the void that Lizzie left in my heart.”

  “I’m sorry, Billy. I didn’t know you felt that way. I don’t think Lizzie knew you felt that way either.”

  “Not in the beginning. Not when you got married. But yeah, she knew. I couldn’t hold my feelings to myself anymore so I rode up to your house one day when you was haulin’ freight. And I made her listen to me.”

  A sick feeling of dread washed over his skin, the hairs on his arms standing at full attention.

  “How did you make her listen to you, Billy. What did you do?”

  He watched Billy’s emotions chase each other across his vacant eyes. He heard the squeaking motion of the saloon door and looked up to see Sheriff Grayson, Grace and Mr. Hanover standing just inside the entrance. He shook his head for them to stay where they were. They waited and listened.

  “Billy. What happened when you went to visit Lizzie?”

  “She was happy to see me. I felt so good because she was happy to see me. Me. The Jokester. The Fool. So, I sat down when she asked me to and I took the coffee she offered. She was talking about the baby being born soon. And she was mad because she asked you not to go and you did anyway. I took that as a sign. So I told her.”

  “You told her what, Billy?” He spoke in hushed, soft tones to keep Billy talking. He needed to know what happened to Lizzie. And his son.

  “I know you was my best friend, John, but my heart hurt so bad I just couldn’t take it anymore. And when I seen her all swollen up with the baby, and she was really mad at you, I thought maybe this was my chance to save her. You know, convince her she loved me and not you.”

  John should have been livid that his best friend was sneaking around his wife behind his back but he just couldn’t muster the anger. All he felt was pity for his friend. Billy was a lot of things but he didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

  “And did she, love you and not me?” John gently prodded.

  He watched Billy’s sadness turn to anger.

  “No, she didn’t. She still loved the great and mighty John Malone, Hero Extraordinaire. In fact, she laughed at me. Thought I was kiddin’ her.”

  “Billy, what happened to Lizzie? Did you hurt her in some way? Did you kill her?”

  Billy jumped away from the table and grabbed John by his shoulders with a grip so hard John was tempted to push him off. But it was the look of desperation in Billy’s eyes that stopped him.

  “I would never hurt Lizzie, John. Not in a million years. Not on purpose.”

  Billy slid his hands down John’s shoulders and grabbed both his hands and held them against his cheek now wet with tears.

  John stood unmoving, his mind working overtime trying to put the pieces together.

  “I went along with Lizzie. I pretended I was joking like she thought. Always the jokester. That’s me. But, a man’s got pride, ain’t that right, Johnny Boy?”

  “Yeah, that right, Billy.”

  “She got up to let me out the door and she got all dizzy. She said sometimes she did that when she got up too fast. I grabbed for her but I couldn’t catch her in time. She fell down your front porch stairs. You know how steep them are, don’t cha John?”

  “Yeah, Billy. I know how steep they are.”

  John guided his friend back to the table and sat him in the chair. He nodded for Charlotte to pour another drink. He still had his full glass so he waited in silence until Charlotte had filled Billy’s glass and backed away from the table. He looked around the room. Not one person in the Holy Moses made any attempt to leave. All eyes were on him and Billy. This wasn’t going to be easy to hear but he had to know what happened to Lizzie the night he left her alone.

  Billy drained his glass of whiskey. He finally raised his head and looked into John’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, John. I tried to save her. I did everything I could. But she started bleedin’ bad so I carried her into the house. It wasn’t long ‘till the baby came—a little boy, John. You woulda been proud of him. But, he was all blue and not breathin’. I blowed air in his mouth like I seen the doc do before when the calves were stillborn. I blowed air a long time but it didn’t do no good. They was both dead.”

  “Why didn’t you go get help?”

  Billy jumped up out of the chair, his eyes wild with fear.

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said, John? They was both dead. There wasn’t no help other than what the good Lord could give them. I said words over their bodies and then I cleaned them up best I could. I couldn’t stand for Lizzie and the boy to lay there all alone but I knew they was dead and there weren’t nothing else I could do for them. So I covered them up with a blanket and I left them there.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me what happened, Billy? You had to know I would have believed you, didn’t you?”

  “I couldn’t stand myself, John. The guilt was eatin’ me up. Here I was trying to talk your wife into running away with me. And I was gonna take your baby too. I been riddled with guilt. I just had to make it up to you somehow.”

  Suddenly, everything Billy had been trying to explain became crystal clear.

  “That’s why you wrote the letter to Grace. You ordered a bride to replace Lizzie. You wanted to give me back what you took from me. A wife.”

  “I didn’t know how else to fix things, John. You was so happy with Lizzie and the baby coming and all and then when Lizzie died you blamed yourself. I couldn’t stand to see you sufferin’ for somethin’ that was my fault.”

  “But that’s just it, Billy. It wasn’t your fault. Lizzie could have fallen down those stairs whether you had been there or not. I should have been there with her. She was mad at me because she sensed something was going to happen. It wouldn’t have mattered who was there. She took a hard fall and there wasn’t nothing anyone could have done to save her or the boy.”

  John tried to wrap his arm around Billy’s shoulder but his friend shrugged it off.

  “Maybe. And maybe not. But I was wrong in being there. After the funeral, I was gonna tell you what happened, but I was gonna leave out the part about, you know, me tryin’ to steal your wife and all. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had caused. By that time, too much time had gone by and I couldn’t prove what I was sayin’ so I kept my goldarn chicken shit mouth shut. I’m a no-good coward, John. I don’t blame you a bit for never speaking to me again. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you for shooting me dead right here on this spot.”

  “Billy, listen to me— “

  “No, you listen John. I owed ya. For all the times you came to my rescue when Big Elmo Green tried to beat the crap out of me—an’ that’d be more than once, you know. You stood up for me just like you took up for Lizzie. Hell, you were everybody’s hero.

  “So
, one night I was drinkin’ hard and I couldn’t get Lizzie or your boy out of my head. All that blood. I felt so bad. And sudden like, an idea just came to me. Like an angel dropped it on my head or somethin’. Anyway, I figured out a way to fix things for ya.

  When I heard about the town council sending letters to that newspaper in Kansas City looking for brides, I thought to myself what better than getting’ a new wife. So I wrote a letter and sent it to the town council and it went on to Kansas City and that newspaper. No one knew it was me that wrote the letter.”

  “So you were trying to find me a replacement wife to take Lizzie’s place? Didn’t you know that wouldn’t work, Billy? You can’t just pick a wife out of a catalogue and order a happily-ever-after.”

  “Don’t I know that now. But hell, I didn’t know there’d be murderers among ‘em. I thought they’d just be nice girls and I’d pick a pretty one to make you happy—like Lizzie did. I sure made a mess of things, didn’t I, John?”

  “You sure did, Billy Boy. God help me, you sure did.”

  26

  Grace stood just inside the door of the Holy Moses and listened to John’s friend tell everyone what really happened to Lizzie that night. John wasn’t responsible for anything except loving his wife and caring for his misdirected best friend. Who would have dreamed that Billy had been with Lizzie when she had died or that he was the one who sent the letter to the Matrimonial News requesting a wife for John.

  So John had been telling the truth all along. He truly didn’t want a wife. Her heart ached at the thought she and the Hanovers had forced him into marriage. What was he thinking now that he knew how she came to be his wife? And she was a wife wanted for murder.

  Whatever happened with the murder charge, she wouldn’t tie John down to a woman with so much baggage. She had always been a fighter. She would do it again without his help. She owed him that much.

  “Mr. Hanover, I think it best we make ready to leave for Kansas City. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can solve this messy situation.”