Shadow of Shame: Book 1 of the Shadow series

by Barbara Goss

  “What church do you go to?”

  “I drive to Trinity Church.”

  “Why do you go that far when Grace is just a few minutes away?”

  “It’s only a few miles. I direct the music there.”

  “I wish you would come to our church; my father would love it. We don’t have a choir director—we don’t even have a choir yet. Our piano player's about to retire, and we don’t know who we’ll get when he does.”

  “I went there years ago when it was still in the old building. I’m quite comfortable at Trinity, but I'm disappointed that there's no Sunday School for Zoe.”

  “Her name's Zoe?”

  He nodded.

  “I would love it if I could take her to our Sunday School.”

  Jonas took a few minutes to think about how he should answer. He would naturally like for Zoe to attend, but he didn’t know how advanced she was for a four-year-old. He did know she’d be five in a few months, though, and it would help him seeing Ivy regularly, as well. He wondered if she'd be put off by Zoe’s race. Some people still weren't accepting of people who were different. Indians in the area were still treated harshly in town. He thought it sad.

  “I like the idea, at least until my church decides to start one. They seem to be dragging their feet on this, and I don’t know why. I think it’s causing families with children to switch over to other churches, and no church wants to lose its people.”

  “I’ll need to see how advanced she is,” Ivy said. “I’ve no way of knowing how much she knows because of the conditions you’ve described.” They stopped talking when they noticed people nearby.

  “Can we talk more about this after you pay for the clothes?” Ivy asked.

  “Sure,” he said.

  She smiled. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

  They strolled the boardwalk toward Jonas’s buggy. The salesman had given him a crate to carry the clothing in. He was thankful he had the foresight to bring the buggy instead of riding his horse.

  He put the box on the floor of the buggy, and then turned to her. “Do you want to sit with me for a few minutes and talk?” He held his breath that he hadn’t been too forward in asking her into his buggy.

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  He helped her into the buggy and jumped in beside her. His new buggy was a red two-seater with a black canopy.

  “I love your buggy,” she said. She ran her hands along the upholstery. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you. It’s fairly new. I like it because it’s small, and only needs one horse to pull it.” He was struck by how beautiful she looked in his carriage.

  “So, about the Sunday School,” he said. “I’m going to take you up on that offer, but as I said, I’m not even sure if she can talk. I haven’t had a chance to see much of her, and she was pretty quiet on the ride home. My housekeeper bathed her, and then she fell asleep. She slept in one of my shirts.” He chuckled after he said that.

  “How darling! Can you tell me anything about her life so far?” she asked.

  “I don’t know much. She was supposed to be living with her grandmother, but we stopped in for a visit today and found her in deplorable conditions—I mean, health risk deplorable—it was a pigsty, really. I can’t even describe it. I just found a comforter, wrapped her up in it, and put her into Caleb’s buggy.”

  “Oh dear! How horrible!” Jonas read sympathy in her eyes and expression. “If you allow me to visit her—at your convenience, of course—I could assess her abilities for you. I’d also like for her to get to know me…if I’m to take her from you for Sunday School.”

  “That’s a good idea. I hadn’t thought of that. Stop by any time—tomorrow, the next day, or whenever you can. I’m always on the ranch somewhere, and Thelma can ring the bell for me.”

  “Have you a nanny for her, or is your housekeeper going to care for her?” Ivy asked.

  “We found her a nanny today. Ingrid Smith. Do you know her?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m still quite new to the area, and I don’t know many people,” she said.

  Jonas was enjoying her being beside him in the buggy. He wished he could prolong her company, but he had to get the clothes to Zoe, as the poor child needed them. “I guess I should get these clothes home,” he said finally. “Can I drop you anywhere?”

  “That would be lovely. I’m going to the hardware store to pick up my sister. She’s visiting with a friend there,” Ivy said.

  “It’s right on my way,” he said, and he moved the buggy forward.

  Ingrid had Zoe upstairs, dressing her and putting away her clothes, when Quinn stopped by. As usual, Jonas had heard him ride up, answered the door, and invited him in.

  Jonas always listened for guests, due to the expensive horses he housed in the stables. Each year he added more. His father wanted him to get a watchdog, but he’d kept putting it off. Now he decided he should probably look into it, since with a child in the house, he might miss hearing a rider approach.

  Jonas invited Quinn into the sitting room.

  “I can’t stay, Jonas. I have to pick Mary Beth up. I just wanted to try to talk you into coming tonight. I’m seriously begging you.”

  “Why? So you can laugh at me holding hands with women, and skipping around to fiddle music?” he said with a chuckle.

  “I know.” Quinn also chuckled. “It’s silly, but women love it. You do what you have to sometimes.”

  “Sounds like you have a hook in your jaw, Quinn.”

  “I might. I just might.” Quinn sobered. “C’mon Jonas. Come with us.”

  “Seriously, Quinn, why do you want me there so badly?”

  “I’m worried about Boyd with Ivy,” he said.

  “You weren’t when you set her up with him to pick out a horse,” Jonas said.

  “I know, but Phil Monroe just told me Boyd’s been at the Silver Slipper most of the afternoon, drinking, and who knows what else. So now I’m worried—I’ll be busy with Beth and won't be able to keep a sharp eye on him. I admit it’s all my fault, which makes me feel even worse about it and worry all the more.”

  Jonas felt a little uneasy about it now, too. He thought about Boyd being inebriated while he was with Ivy, and his blood began to boil. “What time does this thing start?”

  “Around seven,” Quinn said.

  “I can’t go with you now—I have a man coming to pick up a horse—but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said. “But I’m not dancing.”

  After the man picked up his horse, Jonas asked his foreman if he’d mind staying a bit later to watch the place while he was gone. He wasn’t used to leaving the ranch at night, and he felt uneasy about it. It was easy to get a worker to watch the place, since they all liked the overtime.

  He looked at his pocket watch; it was six-thirty, and he hadn't washed up or changed his clothes yet.

  Ivy watched Boyd rein in at the front of the Jeffries' home in a buggy as fancy as Jonas’s. Ivy invited him into the foyer when he came to the door, and introduced him to her parents, who were seated in the sitting room off the foyer. They were courteous, but not overly friendly. They didn’t like dances, and were a bit upset that Ivy was going to one. Ivy’d had a bit of a discussion at dinner with them about it, and they'd communicated to her how they felt. They told her that if she wanted to go, she certainly could, but they still did not approve.

  Ivy felt that sometimes her parents were a bit too strict, and followed the Bible a bit too literally. Times change, she thought.

  Ivy and Boyd made a hasty retreat.

  Boyd assisted Ivy into the buggy, and then he lighted the lanterns on the sides of his buggy, because it had grown too dark to see the road. He headed the buggy toward the Hanleys' barn dance.

  As they approached the Hanleys', the sight nearly took Ivy’s breath away. The oversized barn had its doors thrown wide open, and the ground had been strewn haphazardly with straw. People danced, not only in the barn, but also in the yard in front of the barn. Lant
erns were strung around the entire area, painting a festive atmosphere. She could hear the fiddles and people laughing as they had danced, and she couldn’t wait to get out of the buggy to see things first hand.

  Boyd rode around to the side of the barn where the buggies and horses were parked. As soon as he stopped, she started to jump down.

  “Wait!” he called, “not so fast. I need to talk to you a minute.”

  Ivy slid back into place and waited. He leaned closer. When he spoke, it was close to her face. “I just wanted to tell you how lovely you look tonight, and that I’m happy you agreed to come with me.” He patted her hand.

  She smelled alcohol on his breath, which shocked her, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Was he drunk, or had he just had a drink before he'd picked her up? She'd never been in this situation before, and she didn’t know quite how to handle it. Instinctively, she backed away.

  “No problem. Can we go now? I’m anxious to see my first barn dance up close.” She slid out without waiting for his answer, and began walking toward the front of the barn.

  “Hey, wait for me!" he called after her. "I want everyone to see who I’m with tonight.”

  He caught up with her, and put his arm around her, but she shrugged it off. “Don’t, Boyd. We’re just friends—we're not a couple.”

  “What?” he pulled on her arm, halting her progress.

  “Let me go, Boyd!”

  Boyd held his hands up in the air, as if to say, 'no harm, no foul.' “All right, all right. Don’t get excited. I’m just in a great mood tonight, that's all.” He laughed. “Just call me Mr. E. All the ladies do.” He belched loudly and the smell of whiskey permeated the air.

  “You’ve been drinking! You’re drunk!” she said.

  “I've had one or two today.”

  Ivy shook her head. “I’m sorry, Boyd. I can’t be with you. I don’t approve of drinking. I’ll have Quinn take me home.” She started walking toward the barn when he grabbed her by the arm again.

  “C’mon, loosen up. We’ll have fun. I know all about ministers’ daughters. I was seeing one when I lived in Salina. She was one hot number.” He rolled his eyes.

  Ivy began to panic. It was dark on their side of the barn, and she was alone with him. He had her by the arm and wouldn’t let her go. She didn’t know what to do. She thought she’d try to be nice about it, and try to throw him off his guard.

  “Boyd, l don’t think you really want to do this. My father will be very upset with you if I go home and tell him—”

  “Okay, okay. Just give me one little kiss, and then I’ll let you go, I promise.” Boyd pulled her closer. “I told you to call me Mr. E,” he laughed, then puckered up and leaned close to her face. The whiskey on his breath gagged her.

  Ivy tried to kick him, but he held his lower body too far away, and stretched his upper body closer.

  “Let. Me. Go!” she said firmly, and when he didn’t, she screamed as loud as she could. She became frightened, alone in the dark with a drunken man, and she screamed a second time.

  Boyd put his hand over her mouth, and with the other, grabbed her tighter. “C’mon, just one little—” mid-sentence, Boyd flew into the air, and was thrown, hard, against someone’s carriage. “What the—”

  Jonas began to punch him in the face and upper body.

  Quinn appeared then, and yelled to Jonas, “Take it easy, Jonas! You’ll kill him!” Quinn struggled to pull Jonas off of Boyd. “Easy…let him go. I have him.”

  Jonas slowly released his grip on Boyd. Quinn held Boyd by his shoulders in order to keep him from swinging back at Jonas.

  Boyd swore at Jonas, and said, “Why should you of all people care what I do with a woman? You never did.”

  “Enough, Boyd,” Quinn said. He tried to direct Boyd toward his buggy, but Boyd broke free.

  “All I wanted was a little kiss.” Boyd waved his arms as if to keep himself from losing his balance. “That’s a lot less than you took from Minnie Kreider. You need to mind your own business, Jonas Armstrong.”

  “Shut up, Boyd. You need to go home. Right now you’re in no shape to be around a lady,” Quinn said. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”

  “At least I didn’t get a girl with child, and then treat her so badly she died,” Boyd shouted.

  “Take your hands off me,” Boyd yelled at Quinn. He shrugged himself free. “I’m going.” He staggered over to his buggy, and drove around to the other side of the barn, and sped off down the road.

  Ivy stood there in shock. What had just transpired? Was Boyd telling the truth about Jonas? Peggy did say he was married, and that his wife had died, and she’d mentioned a baby.

  Jonas and Quinn turned their attention to Ivy. “Are you all right, Ivy?” Quinn said.

  When Ivy nodded, Jonas asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Ivy replied in a shaky voice. “I just want to go home.”

  “I’ll take you,” Jonas offered.

  “No!” she cried, quickly backing away from him. “I’m sorry. Quinn will take me.” She saw the hurt on Jonas’s face, but after what Boyd had said, she didn’t feel safe with anyone except Quinn.

  “All right,” Quinn soothed. “Jonas, will you tell Peggy, and Mary Beth where I’ve gone, and that I’ll be right back?”

  Jonas nodded.

  Quinn led Ivy to his buggy. She was shaking, and Quinn wasn’t sure if she was scared or cold. He put his jacket over her shoulders, and pointed his buggy toward her house. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked as they neared the Jeffries’ home.

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  Quinn pulled up in front of Ivy’s house and touched her on the arm. “Ivy, will you let me explain what Boyd said about Jonas?”

  “Is it true?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “Some of it, is,” Quinn said. “But he’s completely turned his life around since then. All three of us were wild five years ago. It all started when we began to hang around with Boyd. He was a bad influence on us, but we still should have known better. I behaved every bit as badly as Jonas and Boyd. We did a lot of womanizing, but after what happened to Jonas, I learned my lesson. So did Jonas. But, Boyd never stopped his drinking and womanizing.”

  “How did Jonas end up married? And how did his wife die?” Ivy asked.

  “She was pregnant—”

  “Oh, no!” Ivy exclaimed. She started to get out of the buggy.

  “Wait, Ivy.” Quinn gently grabbed her arm to keep her in the buggy. “Since I’ve told you this much, I have to tell you all of it. It isn’t fair to Jonas to give you only half of the story.”

  “I’m not sure I want to hear it, Quinn.” She removed his jacket from around her shoulders and handed it to him.

  “Peggy told me you had a crush of sorts on Jonas,” he said. “Tell me something, Ivy. Before tonight, how did you feel about him?”

  “I thought he was the kindest and most generous man I’d ever met.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I have doubts. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Yes, he married Minnie, and yes she was with child,” Quinn said. “He admitted that he could have been the baby’s father, but he also knew, as well as everyone else, that the baby could have been almost anyone’s. Minnie was a bit—shall we say, free with her charms? Yet despite her other lovers, she pointed her finger at Jonas. We think she heard he was building a new home, and thought he had money.”

  “So he k-killed her?” Ivy asked.

  “Good heavens, no!” Quinn said. “Jonas wouldn’t hurt anyone, even in his wildest days. Minnie died during childbirth. Jonas was never mean to her. He just ignored her because he felt she’d ruined his life. He had to marry Minnie when he was just eighteen. As it turned out, the baby wasn’t his after all.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The baby is colored. She was probably Samson’s. He was an African man who worked at the blacksmith's shop. He left town shortly after Minnie got married. Personall
y, I think he really cared for her.”

  “I’m telling you all this because I don’t want Jonas to get hurt again. I don’t want this story to get out all over the town, and I don’t want you thinking badly of him. Jonas has punished himself enough over the past five years. He was asked to leave Grace Church at a time when he probably needed it the most. He went over to Trinity Church, and gave his life to God. He hasn’t been with any women or had a drop to drink from the day he gave his life to God, but he still punishes himself.

  “As his best friend, I’m begging you to not mention this to anyone, including my sister. I’m thinking most people have forgotten that incident, and I’ve been trying to get him out to enjoy life again. He’s been almost like a recluse all these years. He hasn’t been anywhere socially, but he came to the dance tonight because he was worried about you.”

  Ivy bit her lip. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

  “And,” Quinn continued, “he needs friends like you and me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Quinn. If my father should hear—”

  “Exactly. Your father doesn’t need to know. Unless…well, for now at least, he doesn’t need to know.”

  Ivy rubbed her face with her hands, “Oh, Quinn, I think I hurt Jonas tonight when I refused to let him take me home. He looked so stunned and hurt by my rejection.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You can make it up to him. Be his friend, Ivy. It would really help him out. Take my word for it—Jonas is not the same man as he was five years ago. He’s turned his life completely around. Not only does he go to church every Sunday, but he's also the music director there. He leads the choir, picks the Sunday music, and plays the piano for the services. He feels that he owes God, and has to make up for what he did wrong.”

  “So he isn’t a complete recluse, then?” she asked.

  “Church is about the only place he ever goes, except to town for supplies. I visit him often, and he has a brother who lives nearby, and a father. We're all trying to get him to live again.