by Linda Ford
Jane smiled, grateful for her understanding. “You could come with me to Maryville, you know. Aunt Althea wouldn’t mind.”
“Mother would never agree. You know how she is… I can’t go to the mercantile alone without her dictating my every move.”
Louise’s heels clacked on the floor, signaling her return. “Jane, you have a visitor. Mr. Leighton is waiting for you on the porch.”
Caroline’s mouth compressed. “Go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on Clara.”
Tossing her a grateful look, Jane deposited her cup on the credenza and hurried outside. Tom pivoted at her approach, black Stetson clenched in his hands. A black kerchief hung about his neck, and his midnight-blue shirt was rolled up at the sleeves.
“I apologize for interrupting.”
“Has something happened?”
“I received a letter.” Voice sounding odd, he lifted a wrinkled envelope. “It’s from my brother.”
Sinking onto the porch swing, she gripped the chain connecting it to the ceiling. His features were carefully controlled. His eyes were another story.
“He says he’s finally come to his senses and that he’s ready to be a father to Clara.”
“Does he expect you to return to Kansas?”
“He’s coming here. What he’ll decide to do after that is anyone’s guess.”
The metal chain bit into her palm. “I can’t fathom what you’re feeling right now.”
Guilt flashed. “I want to believe he’s changed.” Tread heavy, he joined her, the wood creaking under his added weight. “What if seeing his daughter resurrects his grief, and he can’t handle it? What if he fails her again?”
Jane covered his hand, throat thickening at the thought of them suffering. Please, God, spare them that. “Then you’ll be there to help her. Just like you’ve always been.”
“I’m her uncle, not her father,” he said at last, defeat and confusion darkening his eyes. “I’m not supposed to feel as if Charles is intruding on my family.”
“Tom, listen to me.” She gave his hand a little shake. “You’ve been her substitute father for a long time. You moved her back here with the intention of raising her all on your own. It’s only natural for you to feel that way.”
“I want to trust him.”
“You have reason not to. Perhaps it would be wise not to let him take Clara anywhere until he’s proven to you he’s capable of being the father she needs. He owes you that much.”
Jane’s own reservations were rising to the surface. Charles couldn’t take Clara away. Tom wouldn’t be the only one crushed.
The door opened, and Clara rushed over. “Uncle Tom! Marianne stole my doll and won’t give it back.” Tears pooling in her eyes, she looked at him, fully expecting him to fix her problem.
Her chest constricted. How would Tom cope if Charles took her away? How would Jane?
Caroline appeared in the doorway. “I tried to stop her, but she was insistent on seeing you.”
“It’s all right.” Tom waved off her apology and tucked the letter in his pocket.
The blonde shot Jane a piercing look before going inside.
Thumbing away Clara’s tears, he said softly, “Did you ask her to give it back?”
She nodded vigorously, dark ringlets bobbing. “Three times.” She tried to arrange her short fingers to show the number but couldn’t quite manage. “She still didn’t.”
“How about we go and talk to Marianne? I’m sure if we explain how important your doll is to you, she’ll understand why you’re so upset.”
She looked doubtful. “Okay.”
Tom turned his head to look at Jane. “If you’re finished here, we could go the mercantile together. Your sister has completed the last of Clara’s wardrobe.”
Aware he shouldn’t be alone right now, and eager to support him in any way he’d allow, she stood and smoothed her skirts. “I’d like that.”
His obvious relief told her she’d done the right thing. After righting the situation with Clara’s friend and bidding Louise and Caroline goodbye, they loaded into the wagon and set off for town. The adults remained attentive to Clara’s account of her afternoon. While they commented in all the right places, Jane was certain Tom was as preoccupied as she.
When he’d parked the conveyance by the boardwalk and assisted them down, Clara skipped ahead, no doubt excited to see her new clothes as well as the mercantile’s assorted goods.
Jane walked close beside him. “How long until…”
“I’m not sure. Possibly a week or two, if I’ve calculated the dates on his letter right.”
She might not be here. From the moment of Tom’s return, he’d comforted her through Roy’s betrayal, supported her during this fiasco with Lee. He’d been a true friend. Her entire being rebelled at the thought of abandoning him in his time of need.
Inside the bustling store, Nicole spotted them at once. She rounded the counter and, after greeting Tom and Jane, bestowed a bright smile on Clara. “I’ve something for you, Miss Clara. Want me to show you?”
She looked to Tom for his decision, smiling when he nodded.
“We’ll be in my shop.” Taking her hand, Nicole led her into the hallway connecting the mercantile with the office, storeroom and her seamstress shop in the rear.
At the sound of raised voices behind them, Tom placed his hand against Jane’s back and edged closer to her.
“What’s going on?” she said.
“No idea.”
In front of the wall where town notices were posted, Quinn was attempting to placate the group of onlookers. “I don’t know the details, ladies and gentlemen. Please take your questions to Sheriff Timmons.”
Working his way through the curious patrons, Quinn’s frown grew more pronounced as he neared.
“What’s all the fuss about?” Tom said.
“Jed Hamilton was found dead early this morning, sprawled in the middle of Main.”
Dread settled like a weight in Jane’s midsection. Jed wasn’t known for being sober.
“Do they know how he died?”
“Timmons is of the opinion he was run down. They found a half-consumed jar of moonshine next to his body. There’s talk of bringing in federal agents.”
Her insides turned to stone. As if he sensed her unease, Tom curved his fingers about her side. No wonder the townsfolk were up in arms. Revenuers meant serious trouble. Not everyone in Gatlinburg and the surrounding areas shared the same views on home distilleries. Some families considered it an inherent and important part of their heritage and culture. Others argued the money they made allowed them to pay their property taxes and support local businesses. Still others were completely against it, citing the ills of alcohol.
“Has Timmons officially decided to bring them in?”
“I honestly don’t know. He’s being tight-lipped about the whole situation.” He gestured to the counter and the line of customers. “I’ve got to go.”
Tom maneuvered her to an empty corner. “We have to talk to the sheriff.”
The prospect of repercussions frightened her. “Shouldn’t we wait? You and Josh have been monitoring Lee’s place and haven’t seen anything incriminating.”
“You don’t call frequent visitors incriminating? Outsiders who have no legitimate business in town?” He kept his voice low. “And what about the mash barrels in his shed?”
“Nothing good will come of this.”
“I know you’re in a difficult position right now—”
“Jessica despises me,” she whispered hotly.
“She may be hurt and angry, but she still loves you.” His mouth softened. “What would you rather have happen? Shane Timmons investigating Lee’s activities? Or total strangers—government agents—bent on wiping out tax defrauders?”
“I guess there’s nothing I can do at this point to make her hate me more.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
He couldn’t get Charles’s words out of his head.
I’m ready to m
ake things right between us and provide the life Jenny would want for our daughter.
Tom was grateful his brother had at long last gotten a handle on his grief. His apology, while sincere, was just words on paper. They couldn’t begin to make up for his poor decisions. His neglect. And ultimately, his abandonment.
He needed to see his brother in the flesh. See his eyes, his expression, his mannerisms when he apologized.
Surrounded by sewing machines, spools of thread and needles, and frilly things that made him uncomfortable, Tom crouched to Clara’s level.
“Jane and I have business to tend to here in town. Miss Nicole is going to keep you company until we return.”
She looked past his shoulder to where the sisters conversed in the hallway. “I like her. She’s nice. Like Jane.”
“They are both very nice,” he agreed.
When he’d arrived at the post office and recognized the slanted scrawl on the envelope Mr. Ledbetter placed in his hand, his first instinct had been to find Jane. He’d craved her comforting presence and sound advice. Hadn’t thought twice about barging in on the planning committee’s meeting. He’d had to get to her.
His brother’s impending arrival wasn’t the only thing troubling him.
Jane’s trip was drawing nearer. His attempts to get a clear understanding of how long her visit would be had failed. She insisted she hadn’t decided. And now that she and Jessica were at odds, he feared she would delay her return.
He had no idea how he was going to cope with his brother’s homecoming and all that might entail without her.
“You look sad, Uncle Tom.”
He blinked. “I do?”
“Uh-huh.”
His niece had inherited traits from both parents. Green eyes like Charles’s, which were also identical to his own. Chin and nose like Jenny’s. Such a pretty child. More importantly, she’d been blessed with the same kind spirit her ma had possessed.
Lord Jesus, I was finally getting used to this whole fatherhood thing. I don’t know what I’ll do if Charles decides to take her back to Kansas.
There was more, so much more on his heart. Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to utter every single thought and emotion. The Lord saw into the depths of his soul and understood without him having to explain.
Clara braced herself against his shoulder and popped forward to buss him on the cheek.
“What was that for?” He looked at her, bemused.
“To make you feel better.”
A reluctant smile broke through. “It’s working.”
“Candy works, too.”
At the impish dimple gracing her cheek, he chuckled and tapped her chin. “If you’re really good, Miss Nicole might give you a piece.”
Pushing upward, he turned and addressed Jane. “Ready?”
“I suppose.”
Despite her misgivings, she looked composed. Determined. That was his Jane. She didn’t hide from responsibility, didn’t postpone unpleasant tasks. She did what needed doing without thought to her own well-being.
Since his return, his admiration for her had grown by leaps and bounds, deepening to such a degree he found himself wondering if what he felt for her was more than mere friendship.
The notion was a disturbing one. Even if she were receptive to his suit, she’d never accept that he could care for her. In her mind, Megan was his ideal woman. Anyone else would be a poor substitute. Stubborn as she was, he wasn’t sure he’d ever rid her of the conviction.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he offered his arm and led her through the mercantile and onto the noisy boardwalk. Folks hurried to the bank and post office. A few men gathered outside the livery, pipes dangling from their mouths. A young lady emerged from Josh and Kate’s business, a wrapped parcel that looked to be a framed photograph held protectively to her chest.
When they’d traversed the dense traffic on the street, he stopped with his hand on the jail door. “I can speak to him alone, if you’d prefer.”
Peeling away a flame-colored strand from her cheek, Jane squared her shoulders. “No. I can do this.”
He allowed her to precede him into the jail’s front room, a tight space big enough to house Shane’s desk and a couple of hard-backed chairs. Stationed behind his desk, the sheriff’s rugged features were inscrutable as a group of men blasted him with questions regarding Jed Hamilton’s death and his plans for involving the federal government.
Tom didn’t envy him his job. Shane would be forced to walk a precarious line with this bootlegging business.
He held up a hand for silence. “There are a lot of unanswered questions surrounding Jed’s death. My deputy and I will be putting all our energy into solving what happened. As for bringing in federal agents, I haven’t made a decision about that yet.”
The men tried to talk over each other in an effort to voice their opinions. Tom and Jane remained close to the exit. Shane put a finger to his lips, and a piercing whistle bounced off the walls.
“Enough,” he barked. “I’m aware of the arguments against bringing in outsiders, and I’ll take them into consideration. For now, you need to go on about your business and let me do my job.”
Grumbling, the men shuffled out, many of them remaining on the boardwalk outside the jail. Shane sighed and lowered his large frame onto his chair.
“What can I do for you folks?”
Waiting until Jane had seated herself, Tom followed suit, propping his hat on his bent knee.
“We’ve got some information that might aid your investigation.”
Shane leaned forward and propped his arms on the desk, interest flaring. “Not exactly what I expected you to say.” Glancing from one to the other, he said, “I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Jed Hamilton.”
“We weren’t. But we know where he likely got that moonshine.” Jane threw Tom a desperate look. Reaching over, he threaded his fingers through hers, meeting Shane’s pointed glance without flinching. He was offering her nothing more than friendly support. That’s what he’d tell Josh if the sheriff decided to mention it.
But would it be true?
He scraped his thumb over her knuckles. “Start from the beginning.”
With a jerky nod, she explained everything she’d seen and done.
“You impersonated your sister?” Shane’s usual reserve fell away, jaw dropping. “I’m impressed.”
At Tom’s glare, he backtracked. “Not the wisest course of action, of course, but that took courage.” Propping his arms on the desk, he studied Jane. “I suppose the reason she’s not here is because she isn’t speaking to you?”
Her hand tensed in his hold. Tom gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Unfortunately not. She’s agreed not to mention this to Lee.”
Somber once more, Shane scooted his chair back and, standing, reached for his hat. The gold star winked on his chest.
“I’ll head out to Cavanaugh’s now.” His eyes shouted a warning. “Keep this to yourselves.”
Tom shoved his own hat on. “You need my company?”
“Nah. I’ll round up my deputy.”
Tom held the door for Jane. “Be careful out there,” he said over his shoulder.
Shane’s grin was more of a grimace. “Always.”
They weren’t five steps from the jail when Jane went rigid beside him. Her startled gasp was nearly drowned by the rustle of harnesses as a wagon rolled by.
He took her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“That man on the corner. Do you see him?”
Not sure whom she was referring to, he scoured the crowd, stiffening when his gaze encountered that of a man staring right at them. “The one with the scar?”
“And silver hair. Tom—” her fingernails bit into his skin “—he’s the one who came to Lee’s the day of the picnic. He knows I was there. And he knows I got a good look at him.”
The blood pulsing through his veins turned sluggish. “And he just saw us exiting the sheriff’s office.”
She turned frightened eyes on him. “He’ll know we told.”
The man in question pivoted sharply and, dodging in and out of the throng, made for the rear alley.
“He’s leaving. No doubt on his way to warn Lee.”
“He won’t make it in time.”
Moments later, pistol shots rang out in the direction he’d gone. Unease flowed through those around them. Farther down the boardwalk, a mother hauled her young child into the café, worried face visible through the glass. A pair of men ahead of them drew their weapons, turning in circles to scan the street.
Tom’s frown deepened. “He will if he creates a disturbance to delay Shane.” Taking her arm, he hustled her in the opposite direction, toward the mercantile. “We’re not sticking around to see what happens. I’m getting you and Clara away from here.”
He had a sinking feeling that they’d started something big, something they couldn’t reverse, and there were no guarantees he could keep them safe.
*
The ride to her cabin was a quiet one. Even Clara was subdued.
Tom had thought it best to bring her straight home. Jessica needed to be told the news.
As she was about to disembark, he stalled her. “I’ll pick you up in the morning. Seven o’clock sharp.”
“That’s not necessary. I have a weapon, and I know how to use it.”
“Indulge me, Jane.”
There’d be no skirting his resolve. “Fine.”
“See you then.”
She waved. “Drive safe. Bye, Clara.”
Holding on to the side, the little girl smiled a farewell, her head bobbing as the conveyance rolled over uneven ground.
Jane remained in the yard long after their departure, head full of all that had happened. Charles was on his way to Gatlinburg. No one knew how that would impact Tom’s future. Shane and his deputy were on their way to investigate Lee, or soon would be. How that would affect Jessica’s future Jane was afraid to venture a guess.
When she grew tired of batting away mosquitoes, she trudged inside, her spirit burdened.
Jessica sat at the table, hunched over a bowl of pinto beans, her disinterest plain. Her features were drawn, the worry line between her brows threatening to become permanent. Jane’s heart squeezed into a painful ball.
