And all she’d done was beg and throw fits and criticize because he wouldn’t give her what she wanted. She’d never asked why. She’d never tried to listen to him. She’d never given him what he needed most. Instead, she’d withheld her affection and denied him the compassion he so desperately needed.
She ached from the knowledge of what she’d done. And what she’d continued to do, for she had acted the same way with Wyatt.
Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself.
The Bible verse rang in her head. She hadn’t shown charity or patience or consolation. She’d thought only of herself. Bitter tears ripped out from deep inside her.
And now it was too late.
* * *
While Mason saddled his horse, Wyatt sorted out events. “If Baxter didn’t take the stagecoach to Greenville last night, he’d still be in town. He’s not the type to walk twelve miles.”
“He could’ve hired a mount.”
“Baxter hates to part with a dime.”
Mason grunted as he cinched the saddle. “He’s probably not tightfisted when his neck is on the line.”
“True. He paid for the stagecoach to get here.”
Mason frowned. “When exactly did he say he arrived?”
“He didn’t. I assumed he came on the afternoon stage.”
Mason looked up sharply. “Yesterday’s stage from Greenville was delayed. I think it got here around seven or eight.”
That meant the evening stagecoach Wyatt had seen had been the eastbound one, not the westbound. “Then he definitely didn’t leave last night.”
“Probably rode here already knowing what he planned to do so he could head out the minute he finished setting that fire.”
Wyatt calculated quickly. “He has at least two hours on us.”
Mason frowned. “But where would he go?”
“Back to Greenville.”
“You sure? Wouldn’t he want to throw off any pursuers?”
Wyatt knew in his gut that he was right. “Baxter’s overconfident. Trust me. He’d head straight back to where he has the officials in his pocket.” And the henchmen to “convince” people of his point of view. “Besides, he doesn’t think anyone would suspect him, and no one would if he hadn’t lost that pocket watch. He probably saw Hicks passed out in the yard and figured we’d blame him.”
“We did at first.” Mason patted his horse’s flank. “Do you think Baxter would’ve put Hicks up to it?”
The idea had crossed Wyatt’s mind. “You know Hicks better than I do. Would he set a fire if Baxter paid him enough? Baxter had a purse full of gold coin.”
“Might have.” Mason considered Wyatt’s question while he finished saddling up. “Except Hicks didn’t have any gold on him when we found him, and even Vern couldn’t drink away that much that fast. More’n likely this falls squarely on Baxter. At least I hope so. I’d hate to think we released an accomplice.”
“I think you’re right. Baxter had to be at the schoolhouse to drop the watch. He wouldn’t have given it to a drunkard.”
Mason looked relieved as he mounted. “We’ll check at the hotel to make sure Baxter stayed the night and then ride hard for Greenville, try to make up some time. The railroad grade’ll get us there faster than the road.”
Wyatt pointed toward the mill. “The quickest route is through open country. It’d give us a chance of cutting him off.”
“You know the way?”
“In my sleep.” Wyatt itched to loose Dusty. “We’ll get him.”
Mason nodded his approval. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll bring in a little higher help.”
“Higher?”
Mason pointed upward. “God.”
* * *
Charlotte couldn’t dwell in emptiness. Somehow she had to find Wyatt and beg his forgiveness. Holly had been right. Charlotte should have told him how she felt. She should have shown it each and every day.
Well, God willing, she was going to start right now. If anyone knew where to find Wyatt, Mason would. So she woke Sasha from her nap, got her shoes on and headed for the sheriff’s office.
The air still reeked of acrid smoke, though only wisps rose into the clear blue sky.
“Where, Mama?” Sasha trotted along obediently, probably hoping they were going to get candy at the general store.
“We’re going to see Sheriff Wright.”
“Why?”
The poor girl didn’t understand, and Charlotte didn’t see how she could explain without frightening her, so she kept her reply to the bare minimum. “I hope to catch your papa before he rides off on his horse.”
“Hor-sey.” Sasha skipped beside her, picking up on the one thing that excited her most.
Charlotte sighed. Before long, Sasha would beg to get back on a horse. It was natural she would, but it would still frighten Charlotte.
They soon reached the sheriff’s office, but the door was locked.
In the middle of the day? Charlotte looked around. Maybe Mason was investigating the fire. Or he might have gone home. Even though the teacherage had survived the fire unscathed, Holly had wept over the loss of the school. Mason was the kind of man who’d stay close to his wife when she was hurting.
Though Charlotte hated to intrude, her mission was urgent. Wyatt could be across the county by now. Holly would understand.
While keeping a tight hold of Sasha’s hand, Charlotte turned and headed for her friend’s house.
* * *
God? Wyatt stumbled over the concept of praying for every little thing, but after the fire, he knew prayer could be answered.
“You always pray for help in your investigations?” Wyatt asked as they rode side by side through town after Ned Minor confirmed that Baxter left late this morning.
“You bet. God’s the best help a man can get. He sees everything and knows just what to do.”
Wyatt was skeptical. “And He answers you? Every time?”
“I didn’t used to think so. In fact, I’d pretty much run from Him since my first wife died. Blamed myself because I was gone when the homestead was attacked. I lost her and—” His voice cracked. “Phoebe was with child.”
Wyatt caught the quiver in the man’s voice, and he looked away. Mason had lost even more than Wyatt had. While Charlotte and Sasha had never been in danger in the fire, Mason had lost his wife and baby. If anyone could understand the hurt Wyatt was going through, Mason could.
“But that’s the past.” Mason cleared his throat. “And God blessed me with a second chance. Can’t believe it sometimes—” he chuckled “—but I sure am mighty grateful. I know God’s behind it all, and I’m doing my best to trust Him with things.”
Wyatt mulled Mason’s words as they neared the mill. The man had a real, practical faith and didn’t claim he was perfect. In fact, he made it sound like God would answer even though he wasn’t always centered on the straight and narrow. The idea was a breath of fresh air, and considering Wyatt had promised to do whatever God asked if He would spare Charlotte and Sasha from the fire, he warmed to this new way of thinking about God, as if an ordinary man could partner with the Creator of the universe.
It gave him strength. “We’ll cross here and then head west.”
The new footbridge easily handled their weight. Once they crossed, Mason brought his horse up alongside.
“Before we head out, I gotta know if you found something on Baxter that you haven’t told me.”
Wyatt had no reason to hold anything back now. “From what I can tell, the orphans that end up in his orphanage disappear in quick order.”
“Disappear?”
“He says they’re sent to families, but I’ve scoured the countryside and can’t find a single one of those families except maybe Star Plains farm. Found a scrawny boy there. Scared half to death and struggling to do a man-size job on a Sunday. That doesn’t sound like it’d fit that orphan society’s rules.”
“What’d the owner say?”
>
“Didn’t hunt him out. I was afraid the boy would get in trouble, so I left well enough alone. The man probably wouldn’t have talked to me anyway.”
Mason pondered his words, and Wyatt could see that steely determination set in. “You think Baxter’s selling the kids?”
“Selling. Slavery. Call it what you want. Baxter takes in pretty near every orphan that comes to Greenville and near as I can tell, none of them are ever seen again.”
Mason spurred his horse to a trot. “Then let’s get to business.”
While they rode across the open country, Wyatt pondered Mason’s words of faith. The man was honest and trustworthy, the kind of friend Wyatt had missed since the war. Moreover, Mason trusted Wyatt—after clocking him, that is.
Wyatt grinned. He deserved to get some sense knocked into him, and there was no better man to do it than Mason.
He eyed the sheriff. He was tough as nails yet could melt at one look from his new bride, all while handling a rambunctious boy. Mason had everything Wyatt wanted. And faith, to boot.
Wyatt gnawed on that as he slowed Dusty to a walk.
Mason came up alongside. “Where now?”
“We’ll drive hard until we reach the creek and then let the horses have a swallow before driving hard again.”
Mason nodded, and they took off, side by side when possible, Wyatt leading the way when necessary. With every hoofbeat, Mason’s words pounded into Wyatt’s head. God knows what to do. Could He straighten out the mess Wyatt had made? Could He show Wyatt how to stay in Evans Grove? When Wyatt thought Charlotte was trapped in the fire, he’d known he loved her. The thought of his wife and child dying tore him up worse than anything he’d ever experienced. Yet he’d pushed Charlotte away when she wanted more. He’d given her no hope. He’d left that letter.
The words he’d scrawled burned into his head. Now that the job’s done, I’m leaving, just like we agreed. They were cruel, heartless and a lie. Something had changed in him, and he no longer wanted to run. San Francisco no longer beckoned. He didn’t care if he ever saw it. What could a city offer compared to the love of a wife and daughter? Nothing. Not one thing.
With all his heart he wanted to stay in Evans Grove, but how could she ever take him back after his cruel words? And anyway, once she learned he’d burned women and children, she would run from him. He couldn’t keep that a secret now that Miss Ward knew.
It was too much to hope Charlotte could love him. She was a good, kind woman who’d known the loss of parents and a husband, yet hoped for the future. What kept her walking forward? Was it the same faith that Mason had expressed?
By the time they reached the creek and rested the horses, Wyatt wondered if faith was what he was missing. He’d had it once, years ago, but the war had taken it away. He glanced at Mason. Would the man understand?
“Sorry again that I had to get rough with you back at the fire,” Mason said after a long draw on his canteen. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and offered a drink to Wyatt.
“No, thanks.” Here was the perfect opportunity. Wyatt rubbed his sore jaw. “You got a solid swing. Reminds me of a friend in the war.” A friend who’d died in his arms.
“Must have been awful.” Mason didn’t look at Wyatt, but the set of his jaw said he understood.
“That’s one way to describe it. Did some things I’m not proud of.”
“We all have.”
But this wasn’t the same. Killers didn’t become deputies. Miss Ward might have told Mason some of it, but surely she hadn’t told him all. Once Mason knew everything, he’d ask for the badge back. But it was time to come clean. Wyatt had carried this burden for too long. Before he faced Baxter and risked his life, he had to get this off his chest.
“I was with Sherman.” Wyatt paused, but Mason didn’t react. “Marched with him through Georgia. Fought to capture Atlanta, and then moved south to Savannah. We stole what we wanted, slaughtered the livestock and set fire to everything that would burn.”
Still Mason stayed silent.
Though every word hurt, Wyatt had to continue. Confession wasn’t supposed to be easy. “I lit my share.”
Mason finally faced him, his eyes expressionless. “You didn’t light the one today.”
“You don’t understand.” Wyatt gritted his teeth. “Everyone was supposed to be gone, but I saw them. Women and children. Old men. Innocent people. I don’t know exactly who, but I saw their shadows in the flames. I watched them die. I’m responsible. I killed them.” The words brought a cold sweat even on a hot day.
Mason kept his silence. He could have said what the pastors tried to tell Wyatt, that he’d been seeing things, that the flames played tricks on his eyes, but Wyatt knew what he’d seen and heard. He knew the price he had to pay.
“I thought...” Wyatt choked on the words. “I thought Charlotte and Sasha would have to pay for my sins, that they would die because I’d killed the innocent.”
Wyatt couldn’t look at Mason, couldn’t see the man’s disappointment and revulsion. He waited for Mason’s recriminations, but only the wind and the babble of the creek pierced the air. Long minutes passed, but the sheriff said nothing.
“You see why I had to leave,” Wyatt said flatly. “Charlotte and Sasha deserve better.”
He heard Mason set down his canteen and draw a breath, but the sheriff didn’t speak right away.
“Did you know that Jesus forgave murderers?” Mason’s voice was rock-solid.
The unexpected words shot through Wyatt’s head. He thought back but couldn’t remember that in the Bible stories of his childhood. “He did?”
“Yep. He forgave the men who killed him.”
The pounding of Wyatt’s heart couldn’t blot out the truth of Mason’s words. Jesus forgave the men who’d killed him. He’d hung on the cross and asked Father God to forgive them. Who else could do such a thing? Surely not the people Wyatt had killed.
He shuddered. “The people I killed wouldn’t forgive me, even if they had a chance. I can’t forgive myself.”
Mason spoke slowly, each word hitting with force. “That’s hardest of all to get past. I hung on to a pile of guilt. Thought I didn’t protect my wife. Blamed myself. See, it was easier to hang on to all that guilt than to let it go.”
Wyatt understood what Mason went through. He’d experienced it, too. “That’s how I felt when I thought Charlotte and Sasha were in the schoolhouse. That’s how I still feel about what happened in Atlanta.”
Mason acknowledged his words. “Thing is, I couldn’t move on until I made things right with God. It’s the only way. He’ll forgive any mess we’ve made as long as we’re sick about doing it and don’t want to do it again.”
“But it won’t bring back the people who died.”
“Nothing will. But if they had Jesus as their Lord, then they’re in heaven with Him now. I know my Phoebe and our baby are there.”
Wyatt grappled with what Mason was saying. The man had lost his wife and child. Wyatt would have given up living if Charlotte and Sasha had died. Yet Mason persevered, became stronger and even found a new family.
“How? How did you do it?”
“By getting God’s forgiveness and letting Jesus lead the way.” Mason clapped him on the shoulder. “Trust me. There’s not a thing you’ve done that God can’t forgive. Jesus already paid the price for our sins. All you have to do is let Him be your commander. Put all your faith and trust in Him, and He’ll lead you to the right path.”
With shocking clarity, Wyatt knew Mason was right. He wanted what Mason had. He wanted to move past his terrible sins. But... “Will Charlotte forgive me when she knows the truth?”
“I don’t know, but women have a right uncanny way of setting aside our faults. Amazes me every time.”
Wyatt had to cling to that hope. He knew he couldn’t go on the way he had since the war, slowly dying inside. He needed the new life that Mason had.
“What do I do?”
Mason swallowed. “I’
m no preacher, but it seems to me you just gotta get on your knees and speak man-to-man with God. Tell Him what you did wrong and surrender to Him.” He stepped away, leaving Wyatt in private.
Wyatt didn’t hesitate. After removing his hat, he dropped to his knees and spilled out everything to God.
“I’m sick about it,” he said after choking out the terrible deeds he’d done in the war. “I wanted to be a good man. I wanted to do what was right, but then my friends got killed, and hatred got hold of me. I stopped feeling anything, and when they ordered us to burn, I lit everything on fire. I thought revenge would take away the pain of losing the people I loved. When I got Margaret’s letter, saying she’d married someone else, I got angry. Then the Rebels killed my friends. We’d grown up together. I convinced them to join the army. They had wives and girls back home and whole lives ahead of them. I blamed the enemy. I wanted them to suffer, but I didn’t expect women and children to die. Can You forgive such cruelty?”
Wyatt hadn’t wept since his best friend died in his arms, but tears flowed now as he choked out each word.
“Mason says You can. That You already have. I don’t understand it. I don’t deserve it. But if You can find a way...I’m begging You. I’ll do whatever You want. You’re in charge from now on. Take what’s left of me, and do what You want.”
Exhausted, he sank onto his heels. The wind smoothed across his face, ruffling his hair and drying the sweat from his brow. The creek still rushed past. Dusty nickered and stomped impatiently. Everything was still the same outside, but not inside. The darkness in Wyatt’s heart had been scoured out, the slate wiped clean. It still hurt, but in a good way.
He lifted his gaze and saw Mason readying the horses. Time to finish this job. As Wyatt slapped his hat on his head and stood to meet the task at hand, he knew that the outcome was no longer in his hands.
Strangely enough, that felt right.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Wyatt is with Mason.” Holly poured tea into her dainty porcelain teacups. “He figured they’d be heading for Greenville. I’m sure they’ll be back as soon as they can.”
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