“There’s a spot on the river at my farm.” That’s quite romantic, she didn’t add.
His smile slipped. “Honey, I can’t be gone that long. I have orders to finish.”
Ida Mae took a moment to inhale deeply and exhale slowly. She suspected that might be the case but had hoped he could simply close his doors the way she had. “I understand. But a girl can hope.”
“Why don’t we plan on going there after church on Sunday?”
“There’s another church picnic.”
“Ah, all right. How about—”
“Let’s just go to the edge of town on the green overlooking the northeast corner,” she suggested.
“Fine, you ride. I’ll escort ye.”
Ida Mae mounted and sat sidesaddle. “Olin, are your parents not—”
“No. They had Kyle bring ye to town for your honor. They felt ye have had enough trouble, so if someone other than me escorted ye home, they thought it wouldn’t produce as much gossip.”
“Probably so. But I prefer your company.”
“And I prefer yours. Ye are the sweetest joy in my life.”
They traveled a few blocks to the edge of the town and sat down on the green knoll overlooking the Wingate plantation. Slaves worked in the distant fields. It seemed odd to see so many. Most, if not all, of the yeoman farmers didn’t own slaves. Olin reclined and leaned on his elbow. “ ’Tis a fine day, lass.”
“Yes.”
“Now that we be alone, tell me what happened the other day with Cyrus.”
“It’s as he said, he came to deliver the ham and I froze at seeing that huge knife when I opened the door. I’m certain it was an overreaction due to the events that have transpired.”
“Aye, ye are probably right. That was a right small ham.”
Ida Mae giggled. “Tender, though. But yes, I think he killed one of the young ones. Perhaps they were low on food.”
“Honey, ye should consider hiring Kyle to look after your farm.”
“Trust me, I have been. I’ve written to my brothers and warned them that we’ll receive little, if any, income this year. I’ve heard back from Bryan and he said not to fret over it. All indications are he’ll be having a bumper crop this year. He also suggested that I sell the property and come live with him and his wife.”
Olin stiffened.
It pleased Ida Mae to see that reaction in him. He truly did care about her.
“Selling your farm is an answer, but it’s good land and should make ye a profit if it is farmed well.”
She couldn’t agree with him more. But she didn’t want to spend the entire hour speaking about such matters. “Olin, I’ve missed you.”
He sat up and slid closer. “Aye.”
“Why did the sheriff tell you to leave the other day?” Sheriff Thatcher hadn’t said a word about it to her, and she knew it had to do with appearances. But really, it was daylight, and they were in public. Who should be concerned about her and Olin speaking with one another?
“I’m not certain. Mayhap he suspects someone else besides Percy.”
“Do you think I’m still in danger?”
“I don’t know. But nothing has happened since Percy was arrested.”
“True.” Ida Mae pondered her own fears and concerns. “I haven’t seen any sign of anyone breaking in or attempting to. There have been no notes—”
Olin jumped up. “That’s what has been bothering me about this. I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it, but that’s it.” Olin paced back and forth on the knoll.
“Finger on what?”
“The notes. Percy couldn’t have written those. He might have had someone help him, but he didn’t stay in school past third grade. He’s been working on the farm all his life. He doesn’t read well. And he certainly can’t construct the penmanship we saw on those notes.”
Prickly brushes of gooseflesh rose on her body. Someone was still out there who wanted to do harm to her. “Then who?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll not have ye spend another night in that building.”
“But—”
Olin laid a finger to her lips. “I think we should put ye in hiding for a day or two and see what happens. The old cottage on my parents’ place is clean and ready. I’ll sneak out there tonight and bring food and supplies.”
“No. I can’t go on the run again.”
“But ye must. Don’t ye see, we have to bring whoever is after ye out of the woodwork. I won’t go with ye. I’ll come to work and pretend to be shocked and see what interest that brings.”
“But the sheriff. . .”
“Will question me as long as the day has light, plus some, I’m afraid. I’ll be his prime suspect.”
“Shouldn’t we tell him?”
“Mayhap, but let’s pray about this. I don’t want us running off without the Lord’s blessing.”
Ida Mae didn’t want that, either. She didn’t want to be running off, period. She certainly didn’t want to go in hiding in a cottage with no one around, alone, and without visitors, without Olin. Her body ached to be held in his arms.
❧
Olin silently prayed he was doing what the Lord would have him do. Something about Cyrus Morgan still bothered him. And he still didn’t have a clear picture as to why the sheriff would have him leave Ida Mae’s side after a horrific experience. He didn’t want to believe the sheriff was aware or possibly involved with the strange events. It couldn’t be that, he argued with himself for the twentieth time since the incident. After having some measure of peace about hiding Ida Mae in the cabin, he left her on the knoll. She rode off to his house, never returning to her business.
He went back to work as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t long before Sheriff Thatcher came knocking at his door. “Olin.”
“Sheriff.”
“Where is she?”
Who? he wanted to ask but decided not to bait the sheriff. “In hiding.”
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing.”
The sheriff rubbed the back of his neck. “Then why? And I want more than a single word or two response, understand?”
“Percy couldn’t have written those notes. His skills are limited in those areas. He only finished third grade. After that he worked on the farm.”
“I thought education was a major part of your kin’s heritage.”
“Aye, but Percy’s father is not Scots-Irish. He doesn’t see education to be as important as his mother’s family does.”
The sheriff leaned back on the edge of the counter. “Then you went back to my original plan to hide her to flush out the culprits.”
“More or less. This time I’m not hiding. This should rattle whoever is after her. If I’m in the dark as to where she is, then he truly will be.”
“You’ll be watched.”
“I suspect so. I’ll join her in a few days if nothing develops.” Olin reached for his tin snips and cut the edge off the piece he had been working on when the sheriff came in.
“You two have kept my hands full the past few months.”
“Aye, I’m truly sorry for that. But I think this goes beyond Percy and his hatred toward me.”
“I believe you are probably right. I’ve heard some rumblings lately that suggest someone might be trying to persuade Ida Mae to marry him so he can have her property.”
“Who?”
Sheriff guffawed. “Half the folks say it’s you.”
Olin dropped the snips.
“Hang on, son. I didn’t say I believed them. I believe there is some truth in this rumor, along with others. Ida Mae in hiding might just bring some to the surface. You have to trust me. I can’t tell you who I suspect because of that temper of yours.”
“What temper? I haven’t done—”
“That temper. You control it, yes, but it still flares. I saw it the other morning, too. Can you trust me?”
“Do you trust me?” Olin wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.
“Yes.”
Olin’s shoulders relaxed. “All right, I’ll trust ye.”
“Good. When you see Ida Mae, pass on a message to her. Let her know I’m aware and am still investigating.”
“Yes, sir.”
Olin watched the sheriff leave and went back to work. The minutes ticked by at the speed of a snail crossing the street. He couldn’t go to her tonight. He’d have to send John or Kyle to go to town and then sneak around to the cottage. Whoever the sheriff was after would certainly be watching. He fought the desire to go to Ida Mae’s side. He wanted to protect her but his best protection was to stay away. Lord, help her understand.
Eighteen
For two days Ida Mae prayed, read, and reread the scriptures, partly out of boredom, but also because she was searching for answers. Not that anyone could ever truly understand the ways of God. Perhaps she should sell the property and move in with her brother Bryan and his wife. If it weren’t for the properties she owned in town, the little income she made from spinning would not support her.
And where was Olin, and how did he fit in this conflict? Every time they tried to spend a moment with one another something came up. It reminded her of the corduroy roads in the area—up, down, up, down, bumpy at best.
The passage from Proverbs that she and Olin had shared the first time she went on the run repeatedly came back to mind. But after two days with no human contact, Ida Mae felt like screaming. She settled for a cool bath in the creek, the same stream she had bathed in the day she was supposed to marry Olin. That day seemed like an eternity ago.
She wouldn’t stay here much longer. Instead, she figured, she should travel to her brother’s home in Kentucky and visit with them for the winter if nothing changed. Dressed and ready to take her bath, she slipped out of the cabin and headed for the stream. She figured it would take a forty-five-minute walk, if she had her bearings straight. Generally, she was pretty good with directions, but her current ability to concentrate was sorely diminished.
A horse and rider approached, and it was too late to hide. Ida Mae continued her walk, then noticed it was Olin’s mother.
“Ida Mae!” Mrs. Orr called out. “How are ye?”
Relieved. “Fine, I was going to take a bath.”
“Let me join you.”
Company sounded good. Mrs. Orr slipped off her horse and walked beside her. “How are ye really?”
“Bored.”
Mrs. Orr chuckled. “Aye, I would be, too. Can I bring ye some more books?”
Ida Mae nodded. She always loved to read, although at this moment in time she wished for something else. “Do you have a spinning wheel?”
“Aye. Would ye like some cotton to spin? I finished the wool.”
“That would be wonderful.” Anything would be wonderful, even weaving. Ida Mae mentally ducked as she imagined her mother listening from heaven at that thought.
“Do ye need more food?”
“Not yet.”
“I don’t understand why ye can’t stay in the big house with us. Olin says ye need to be in hidin’, and I suppose he knows, but it seems silly. We don’t get many visitors here.”
“That would be nice.” As bored as she was, it was more comfortable than having to be social, especially in her dark moods of regret and wondering why things had gone so wrong in her life since her parents died.
“I came to tell ye that Percy is out of jail. The judge told him to pay restitution for the damages and he was free to go.”
“Percy knows about the cabin.”
“Aye.”
“Am I safe?”
Mrs. Orr grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t know, lass.”
❧
Olin walked into the sheriff’s office as ordered. “Sheriff.”
“Mr. Orr, take a seat. I’ll be right with you.”
Amos Bentley stood a few feet from the sheriff. “I’m tellin’ ya, Sheriff, it’s those miners. I’m losing livestock left and right. Ain’t like they can’t afford to pay for their food.”
“I’ll look into it.”
Amos nodded. “I’ll check in next week.”
“You do that, Amos. Have a good day.” The sheriff stepped toward his desk, sat down, and wrote a note. Then he raised his head to focus on Olin. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What?”
“Someone broke into Ida Mae’s room. They tore it apart and. . .” The sheriff seemed to be collecting his thoughts. “And left evidence that she struggled and was possibly killed.”
“What? Who?”
“I don’t know. She’s safe, right?”
“Aye. I’ve watched from a distance, but I can tell she’s still at the cabin.”
“Good. ’Cause there are more problems.”
Olin braced himself.
“I hate to do this, son, but it appears you were the one to kidnap her.”
“Pardon?” Olin held on to the arms of the oak chair so tightly his hands started to shake.
“Exactly. You’re being framed for Ida Mae’s murder.”
“By whom?”
“If I knew that we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“What do we do now?”
“We wait. It’s early and most folks aren’t aware yet that something has happened. As you know, news travels fast in these parts and I expect to find folks in an uproar. Would you mind spending the day behind bars?”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. But I suspect you’ll be framed for some other crime that I can’t disprove and you’ll end up behind bars anyway. If you are already in jail that won’t be possible.”
“But. . .” Olin clamped his mouth shut. Anything he said right now was being weighed. There seemed to be some level of doubt in the sheriff’s eyes. At the moment he seems to believe me.
“Olin. . .” The sheriff’s words trailed off as the door banged open.
Cyrus Morgan bustled in with the weight of a sledgehammer. “Sheriff, I. . .” He paused and focused on Olin, then narrowed his gaze. “Ida Mae is missing.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Cyrus finally broke his gaze and looked at the sheriff. “What are you doing about it?”
“I’m looking into the matter. She might be visiting—”
“Her room has been ransacked.”
The sheriff leaned back. “And you know this how?”
Cyrus stammered. “A—a friend told me.”
“Care to name names?”
Cyrus stepped back. “Rosey Turner.”
Rosey Morgan, your wife, Olin wanted to blurt out.
“And how did Rosey hear this?”
Cyrus stretched his neck to the side. “I don’t know. She just told me and I came running over here. Ida Mae and Rosey’s family are good friends. As you know, I rebuilt her house and am running her farm this year.”
“Yes.” The sheriff relaxed his posture. “I appreciate your concerns, Mr. Morgan. But, as you see, I already knew and am investigating it fully.”
Cyrus’s gaze shifted back to Olin, then to Sheriff Thatcher. “Let me know if you find out anything. Ida Mae and I were close.” He pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to the sheriff. “Real close. And if you ask me, I think Mr. Orr has some questions to answer. She probably refused his advances—”
“Mr. Orr, sit down!” the sheriff bellowed as Olin shot to his feet. “And why was this a secret?” The sheriff held up the piece of paper.
What could be on it? Olin tried to get a glance but couldn’t. It looked to be a parchment of some sort, fairly new but very wrinkled.
“Ida Mae asked me to keep our marriage a secret.”
“Marriage?” Olin squeaked as he dropped back into his chair.
“Yes, she and I married a few months back.” Cyrus grinned.
How can that be? Olin gripped the arms of the chair. Father, give me grace and strength.
“Cyrus, this does put an interesting spin on my investigation. If this paper is real—and I will be
checking into its validity—then I will need to check Ida Mae’s farmhouse to see that she’s not at home with you.”
“Of course she’s not at home. Why would I come here to you if she were at home?”
“I don’t know. Why would you keep the marriage a secret?”
Olin found his voice. “I heard rumors that Cyrus married Ida Mae several months back.”
Cyrus grinned. “I got drunk one night and let it slip out. But ever since I’ve kept my mouth shut. Ida Mae wanted to keep it a secret—something to do with the settlement of her parents’ estate. I told her I didn’t care about the inheritance. She had to work things out with her brothers, though. They wanted to sell the properties, but Ida Mae and I wanted to keep the farm.”
“I see.” The sheriff shifted back in his seat and scanned the document in front of him. “Who’s the judge?”
“Judge Weaver from Montgomery County.”
The sheriff simply nodded.
“Ida Mae felt it would help keep our secret longer. Ya know how folks can be around here.”
Olin didn’t know what to believe. How could she have married this man? It didn’t fit. And why would she proclaim her love for me and attempt to marry me but not go through with it? Dread washed over him. Is this why she couldn’t, because she was already married to Cyrus? Olin’s anger shifted from Cyrus to Ida Mae.
“Pardon me. You two obviously have a lot to discuss. I hope ye find your wife, Mr. Morgan.” Olin slipped out of the sheriff’s office. The bright sun caused him to close his eyes. How could I have been such a fool?
❧
“Ida Mae, are ye through, lass?” Mrs. Orr called out from behind the bush.
Leaning her head back under the cool water, Ida Mae rinsed her hair again. “I’ll be right there.” Summer bathing in the river was such a delight. It was far less work, and the gentle roll of a stream seemed to relax one’s muscles, rather than having to fill your own tub and drain it after you were cleaned.
On shore, Ida Mae dried herself off.
“Are ye decent?”
“More or less.” She wouldn’t want to be caught in her underclothing with anyone else but felt comfortable enough with Mrs. Orr.
“Would ye like me to brush out your hair?”
Corduroy Road To Love Page 14
