Charlotte’s throat constricted; then she found her voice. “Why’s that?”
“He’s missing some money from his deposit today. Claims he and Reuben were at the bank, ran into each other. Reuben helped him pick up the money.”
“You don’t think Mr. Woodward’s saying—”
Pa raised his hand. “Don’t worry. He was only asking about Reuben since he heard I hired him. I told him I’d vouch for Reuben. We haven’t had anything missing since he’s been here.”
“It’s not fair.” But Charlotte didn’t blame his distrust. She didn’t want to trust Reuben at first.
“I know, but that’s how people are. Seems like there’s a few who want to give him a fair shot. I’m going to talk to him tonight, warn him in case there’s trouble in the future.” Pa sighed uncharacteristically. “Well, you’d best finish up. Ma’s laying supper on the table.” He didn’t chide her for not being inside the warm kitchen and helping, and Charlotte wanted to hug him for it. She had not taken refuge in the barn for longer than she could remember and now realized why she’d loved its peacefulness as a child.
“I will.” She waved at Pa and watched him leave. The barn door groaned as he closed it behind him.
Charlotte started half thinking, half praying as she brushed Belle. This afternoon of solitude was meant to be a time of speaking with the Lord, away from distractions. But Reuben and his family had somehow followed her thoughts into the barn.
She could not imagine losing her brother and not knowing where he was. Last letter she had read, his first-year studies in Lincoln were going well. She knew her parents sacrificed to send him to school, and she was proud of him.
Her thoughts turned to James. Her parents neither encouraged nor discouraged the possibility of him calling. Charlotte moved to Belle’s hindquarters and started working some snarls from the mare’s tail. But what did she want?
All the prayers she’d sent heavenward so far about James had been met with a resounding silence. No yes or no, no warning sign. Or was it that she didn’t want a warning? Or was it because her former love for Reuben and his subsequent rejection made her leery about opening her heart to another? The thoughts chased themselves around her head.
Belle shifted her weight and nearly stepped on Charlotte’s foot. She moved away in time and patted her mare’s neck.
“Sorry, Belle.” She’d been brushing too vigorously, and the mare had sensitive skin.
Reuben had warned her about James. She wanted to drag the meaning out of him, but if he was as stubborn as when they were children, he wouldn’t budge. Did she trust the warning? Reuben had nothing to gain…or did he? She thought about Mr. Woodward’s questioning.
Charlotte tossed the brush onto the straw and placed both palms on her forehead. Her swirling thoughts reached a frenzied pace.
The barn door groaned open again, and a blast of air made Charlotte step closer to Belle, who snorted and moved to the edge of the stall. Another horse answered.
“Who’s there?” Please, not James inviting himself for supper.
“It’s me, Reuben.” The sound of his voice made her feel warmer. And relieved.
Charlotte picked up the castaway brush and met Reuben outside the stall. He led Checkers into the barn. The young mare’s ears twitched.
“Has she been a good horse so far?” Checkers turned at the sound of Charlotte’s voice, and Charlotte touched her velvet nose.
“So far she’s been smart and strong.” Reuben grinned, a sight Charlotte hadn’t seen in years. “She’s the first of many horses that will run cattle.”
“So you’re planning to start a ranch then?”
Reuben nodded. “I want to continue what my father started. Or tried to start.”
“Lots of opportunities here.”
“That there are.” He looped the reins over one hand and adjusted his hat.
“Where will you get the money?”
“I’ve got some put back. I’ll save and work. I can make furniture to sell. I learned how to build tables and chairs in prison.” Reuben’s face flushed. Charlotte believed him and tried to calm the flutters in her stomach.
“The Ladies’ Aid Society is having a box social.” The words came out before she could stop them. As if he would be interested.
“Oh. When is that?”
“Saturday night.” She was already fussing over her box, hoping to decorate it well. “The money is going to the children’s home in Laramie.”
“I will most definitely be there and bid high.” Reuben swallowed. “I think about children like Benjamin and what he might have lost by not being in a proper home. I think the children need some place warm and safe to live where they can get good teaching.”
Reuben turned from her and led Checkers to an empty stall. Charlotte followed.
“I hope Benjamin’s all right, wherever he is. Have you heard anything yet?” She stopped and watched Reuben close the gate to the stall.
“No, nothing.” The sigh he gave echoed the wind increasing outside.
Charlotte shivered. “Pa and I were talking earlier. If you need help…” She touched the sleeve of his coat and realized how thin it was.
He shrugged off her hand. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
“Let me get you another coat then. You must be freezing in this one.” Her breath made puffs in the air.
“No!” Reuben stepped around her.
She followed again, feeling like a puppy at his heels. “Why? Let me do something.”
He whirled to face her, and she collided with him. She could scarcely breathe. He took her by the shoulders.
“I don’t deserve your help. Work on your box for the social. I’ll bid on that.”
Charlotte nodded. “I wish, back then…” He reached up to her face, then let his hand fall. “I know, Charlotte. I know.”
Charlotte sat at the table and tried to fold the thick pasteboard to make her box. Thanks to Momma’s coaching, she’d managed to cook some chicken and make biscuits that wouldn’t break off someone’s teeth. She already had a spare length of blue ribbon tied into a bow that would adorn the top of her box.
Momma came from answering the door. James followed her from the front room. Momma’s eyebrows rose so high they were nearly lost in her hairline.
“Good afternoon, Miss Charlotte.” James set his hat on the table although no one had invited him to stay.
“Hello.” She tried to smile and focused her attention back on the box. Now that James had seen her box and the ribbon, of course he would know which box was hers. At lunch Charlotte had left the materials at the end of the table, hoping Reuben would notice it when he came in from work. If he had, he said nothing. Not since their moments in the barn together had they spoken, except for the usual everyday greetings.
“You’re quiet today.”
“Ah, yes, well, I’m getting ready for tonight.”
“May I see you to the church?”
The question hung in the air while Momma lurked in the background. Charlotte looked up at James. His eyes brimmed with sincerity. She recalled Reuben’s warning. Reuben would not lie to her for his own gain. At least she hoped he wouldn’t.
“No, but thank you all the same. I’ll be riding with my parents tonight.”
James snatched his hat from the table. “I see. I’ll call again sometime.” He turned on his heel and left the kitchen. The front door banged behind him.
Charlotte released a long, slow breath.
“I’m so glad you said no.” Momma fetched a clean cloth for Charlotte to place inside her box. “Your pa and I have been talking, and we don’t think James is a man you should be spending much time with.”
“Why didn’t you say so? I would have told him ‘no’ sooner.” Charlotte arranged the cloth.
Momma touched Charlotte’s blue bow. “You were always the headstrong one. I wanted you to see for yourself. Be patient. Your time is coming.”
Charlotte tried to smile at Momma, but her eyes f
illing with tears surprised her. She didn’t know how much longer to wait or what exactly she was waiting for.
Chapter 6
Reuben could see the white box with the big blue bow on the table at the front of the chapel. That box had to be Charlotte’s. He recalled that the bow he’d seen on the Jeffers table at dinnertime was blue. He glanced in Charlotte’s direction. Patches of red glowed on her cheeks.
“What am I bid for this fine supper, last box of the night?” Albert Booth held it up for all to see.
“Ten dollars!” Someone else’s voice rang out. James, of course.
Heavenly smells drifted across the room. They reminded Reuben of Ma’s cooking, and the memory panged him. If he wanted to eat tonight, he’d better get a move-on.
“Who else to bid on this fine meal? Remember—the money goes to Ladies’ Aid.”
Now was his chance. “Fifteen dollars!”
Reuben ignored the gasps of the crowd and the sharp look from James. Surely the fellow didn’t plan on going as high as Reuben, who had enough cash in his pocket to outlast Mr. James Newspaper Writer. He sure hoped Charlotte had learned to cook. Enjoying her company would be enough, though, regardless of the supper.
Albert Booth grinned over at James. “Any more bids?”
“Twenty dollars.” James nodded.
Reuben’s stomach growled. “Twenty-five.”
Now came the whispers. “Where’d he get that money?”
“Thirty!”
More roars from the crowd. James had leapt to his feet. Charlotte went pale, and Reuben wanted to tell her she had nothing to worry about.
Albert Booth stared him down. “Anyone else?”
Reuben remembered the times he had stolen, once pilfering a donation plate such as rested on the table at the front of the room. Why the Almighty had shown him such great mercy, he didn’t understand. He hoped tonight would go a ways to paying Him back.
“Forty-five!”
Whoops rose up around Reuben, and someone clapped him on the back. He saw James conversing with a friend, maybe the same one he’d been talking with about Charlotte. The man showed James empty pockets.
James faced Mr. Booth. “Fifty dollars.”
The look in James’s eyes told Reuben he’d come to the end. Maybe the fellow didn’t have such a great poker face after all. Reuben stood a mite taller.
“Sixty dollars.”
The room fairly buzzed. James threw his hat on the floor while Reuben went to claim his supper box. He didn’t regret the money. But he hadn’t counted on the ruckus when he withdrew cash from his inside jacket pocket. Mr. Booth shook his head while he counted the money. Mrs. Booth fanned herself and appeared as though she needed smelling salts.
Reuben didn’t care. He searched for Charlotte, who had her back to him and was speaking with a few of the other women from church. One younger unattached woman giggled when he approached.
Charlotte’s cheeks looked as if she’d spent an hour in front of the mirror pinching them. “Hello.” Her glance darted from her friends then back to him. “I had some help with the cooking.”
“That’s all right.” Reuben found himself grinning. “Ma’am, let’s sit down and have us some supper.”
He turned and nearly walked smack into James.
“Where’d you get all that money?” His brows furrowed. His dark eyes held a demanding glare.
“I earned it, fair and square.” Reuben clutched the box instead of going with his gut inclination to shove the man out of his way.
Charlotte tried to step between them. “James, don’t.”
Reuben balanced the box on one hand and touched Charlotte’s shoulder. “No harm done. He realized he was mistaken, didn’t he?”
James leaned closer. “You think you’ve got people fooled, but you haven’t fooled me. Wait and see. I’ll make sure this whole town sees you for the fraud you are.”
“I’m not that person anymore.” Reuben’s stomach growled. His expensive supper was waiting, and his temper was tighter to rein in the hungrier he got.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
There came Albert Booth. “Gentlemen, is there a problem?” He stood as if ready to intervene. A few in the room had stopped dining to stare at the face-off.
Reuben waited for James to answer and gritted his teeth.
“No, sir.” James kept boring into Reuben with those burning molasses eyes. “But I’d keep my wallet close by if I were you.”
Only Charlotte’s firm squeeze in the crook of Reuben’s elbow kept him from taking a swing at the man. Lord, I sure need Your hand to hold mine back right about now.
James pushed past them both, and Reuben released a pent-up breath.
“Son, you did good.” Albert gave him a nod, then went back to his wife.
“Let’s sit down and eat, and you can tell me how wonderful everything tastes.” Charlotte moved closer to his side, not releasing her grip on his arm.
“Thanks.” Reuben found a quiet place at a bench in the corner. He settled onto the seat. The rest of the crowd seemed to be enjoying their meals. Would his past continually trail him like this? No wonder he had delayed coming home for so long. He removed his coat and laid it on the bench behind him.
He watched Charlotte unfold a pair of napkins. She handed one to him.
“Here. Wouldn’t want you to muss that nice shirt of yours.”
Charlotte had their meal spread between them quick enough. He asked the blessing and wasted no time tearing into the largest piece of chicken in front of him.
“I’m glad you won.” She gave him a small smile that lit the corner of the room.
“I am, too,” he said around a bite of chicken. “This is one more step toward atonement.”
Her face flushed again. “What do you mean?”
“You see, after I made my peace with the Lord, I promised Him I would make up for as many wrong things as I could. To show Him I was sorry. Reverend Mann said it was needful that I do.”
“Needful?”
Reuben nodded. “To make sure I was forgiven.”
“I believe in making restitution when you can, but, Reuben, you can’t atone for your sins.” She touched his hand, an act that made his throat grow a knot. He hoped no one had seen the gesture.
“You don’t understand.” Reuben moved his hand away from hers. “I’ve done so many wrong things that the scales are heavy against me. God’s scales.”
“What about grace?”
“What are you talking about?”
Charlotte leaned closer, close enough that he could see the sprinkle of freckles remaining on her cheeks. “God’s grace and the forgiveness He gives us tip the scales in our favor. Well, better than that. He knocks the weights off the scales, and we don’t owe any more.”
Reuben set down the chicken bone and grabbed a biscuit. He tried to think about her words. The scales knocked clean. Not owing anymore. The thought of weights being lifted from him sounded like a breath of fresh air, the kind a man inhaled when sitting on top of a mountain.
“You don’t know what I’ve done, Charlotte.” The flaky biscuit did little to soothe the churning Reuben felt inside his stomach. “It’s easy for you. You haven’t drifted off the straight ’n’ narrow more than a few paces in your life.”
“But I’ve still been wrong. I battle with—with pride, a sharp tongue, a bitter attitude. Quite often, in fact.” Charlotte was trying to look him in the eye, but at the moment he found a second biscuit more interesting and wouldn’t glance her way.
“Charlotte, I was an outlaw. I lived without thought of right or wrong. I don’t think asking for forgiveness is all I have to do.”
“Are you saying that what Jesus did for us wasn’t enough?”
“Of course not.” He didn’t care if she saw the biscuit lolling around in his mouth. Tonight was not going as he’d planned. Not at all. He had wanted to see if there might be an inkling of love for him inside Charlotte, but instead he’d gotten tossed onto th
e grill over an open fire.
“Reuben, there’ll always be people like James wanting to fling your past in your face. But as you told him, that’s not you anymore.”
He wanted to believe her, to kiss the lips on her earnest face. Right now, though, he felt as if the hangman’s noose had settled around his neck.
“Miss Charlotte, I thank you kindly for the superb meal and your company.” Reuben stood and nodded to her while reaching for his hat. He found his coat, which had slipped to the floor, and put it on.
“Where are you going?” Her eyes pleaded with him to stay.
“I reckon I need some air.” With that he turned on his heel and walked away. If he could but step away from his past so easily.
Reuben paused at the door when he reached inside his outer pocket and felt a piece of paper. He slid it out and found a five-dollar note.
This was not his money. The cash he’d withdrawn from the bank for supper, he’d tucked inside his chest pocket. He did not recall anyone giving him cash, either.
Someone was out to smear him, and he had a pretty good idea who’d like to try. He stood outside in the chilly air and felt a long, slow burn inside.
“Reuben Wilson?” He turned at the sound of a voice at his elbow.
“I’m Ed Smythe…from the telegraph office?”
Reuben’s heart leapt inside him. “Have you received word?”
Ed withdrew a folded paper from his pocket. “I was hoping you’d be in town Friday, but since you weren’t, I thought I’d bring this tonight.”
“Well, thank you.” Reuben received the paper and watched Ed stride toward a waiting team.
He read the paper.
“Colt Wilson. Inmate at Texas State Penitentiary, Huntsville.” The chief warden had replied to Reuben’s inquiry.
Oh, Ma. I’m making good on my promise. Reuben needed to speak with Sam as soon as possible about leaving for Texas.
When Charlotte emerged from the chapel with her ma and pa, Reuben found Checkers and watched, hoping to speak to Sam without having to face Charlotte.
Texas Brides Collection Page 35
