Wolf Creek Father (Wolf Creek, Arkansas Book 3)

by Penny Richards

  As usual, the heartfelt words brought a measure of peace and put Allison’s own problems into perspective. Midway through the final song before the sermon, she became aware that there was a lot of head-turning and whispering going on. Brady, Cilla, Bethany and even Ellie turned to look toward the commotion in the back. Their triumphant smiles could mean only one thing. Colt had come to the worship service.

  Her heart seemed to stumble before settling into a faster rhythm. Her gloved fingers tightened on the edges of her hymnal, and she fought the urge to turn and see for herself if he was really here.

  What did it mean, after he’d turned and walked away from her the evening before? Had he had a change of heart? The song ended, and the minister stepped to the pulpit. Whatever the reason, she would have to wait until after services to find out.

  Brother McAdams was perhaps fifteen minutes into his sermon when Allison heard the door at the rear of the building open. Heavy boots thudded on the wooden floor. Once again, she resisted the impulse to turn and see what was going on. Once again, the children had no such reluctance.

  She heard Cilla and Brady murmuring to one another and then Cilla leaned across Ellie and whispered, “Dan’s come for Pa.”

  Allison’s heart plummeted. She had no earthly idea why Big Dan Mercer would interrupt a church service, but common sense told her that whatever it was must be important. She heard two pairs of boots headed toward the door. Moving faster than she’d ever seen him, easygoing Earl Pickens, who owned the newspaper, passed down the aisle toward the pulpit. The preacher paused midsentence, knowing he’d lost his audience, and leaned over to hear whatever it was Earl whispered into his ear.

  Allison saw the alarm on his face and the way his body stiffened. Not good news.

  The minister stepped aside and Earl took his place at the podium. “Sheriff Garrett wants to apologize for the interruption,” he told them, “but Dan just came to tell him that Ace Allen got word that Elton Thomerson and his buddy escaped from prison sometime last night.”

  Loud murmuring swept through the crowd, and the only thing Allison could hear with any clarity was “Ace.”

  “What’s Ace Allen doing delivering messages? I thought he was serving time with Elton,” someone called from the other side of the room.

  The preacher stepped forward. “Though it isn’t common knowledge, Mr. Allen was only in prison a short time after Elton claimed Mr. Allen was his partner in the robberies that had plagued the county the last several months. That wasn’t true. Sheriff Garrett arrested the guilty party, who confessed, and Mr. Allen was freed.”

  Conversation exploded. There were disgruntled murmurs, exclamations of disbelief, curiosity and downright anger. As usual, there were a few voices more demanding than others.

  “When did this happen?”

  “Why weren’t we told?”

  “Where’s he been all these months?”

  “If Allen wasn’t Elton’s partner, who was?”

  Earl held up a hand. “Everyone please listen.”

  The room became silent. “The man who’d been helping Elton rob people who were coming and going from town was a guy—an Indian—from over around Murfreesboro by the name of Joseph Jones. We all know what kind of misery Elton has dealt to the people of this town, and Gabe and Sarah know firsthand.”

  All eyes turned to Gabe Gentry and Sarah VanSickle, both of whom had suffered Elton’s brutality back in the spring. Sarah’s face had taken on an ashy tint and she clung to Randolph’s arm.

  “Everyone knows what Meg has gone through at his hands. I see she isn’t here today. The sheriff and Ace are worried that Elton will go to the farm, so that’s where they’re headed. That’s all I can tell you right now.”

  The babble of voices filled the room, questions for which there were no immediate answers. “Quiet, please,” the minister said. “Under the circumstances, I think we’ll dismiss early. But first I think it would be appropriate to offer a prayer for the sheriff and his efforts. Earl?”

  Earl began to pray. Allison closed her eyes and bowed her head. Her mind whirled with what she’d just heard, as well as the implications. This was something she’d never considered as she’d woven daydreams about life with Colt. Wolf Creek had little crime—mostly an occasional round of fisticuffs or someone indulging in a drunken binge. But there were times like today, when he was called on to deal with something or someone that was truly dangerous. Elton was one of those people, and this was one of those times.

  The prayer ended and true to his word, the minister wrapped up in record time. The members were soon spilling out the door, chattering about what had happened.

  “It’s scary to think that Elton’s on the loose, isn’t it?” Ellie asked, as she and Bethany strolled along beside Allison.

  “Very.”

  “Who’s going to take care of Cilla and Brady?”

  Allison glanced around. Though no one had been appointed to care for them in Colt’s absence, he knew there were plenty of folks who would be happy to do so until he returned. “Me, I guess.”

  “Why don’t you come home with us? I’m having bacon, tomato and lettuce sandwiches. There’s plenty.”

  Reluctant to be alone with her troubling thoughts, Allison smiled her gratitude. “That sounds lovely, thank you.”

  “Miss Grainger?” Brady asked, tugging on Allison’s sleeve. “Is Pa gonna be okay?”

  Would he? She couldn’t lie to Brady, but neither could she deny him the comfort he was seeking.

  “I’m sure your father has told you that his job is sometimes dangerous, Brady.” Though she spoke to the boy, her gaze moved from him to Cilla. “But we also know that he is very good at what he does. So are Dan and Ace. Why, you’ve seen how fast and accurate Ace is with his target practice.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Brady said, but his eyes glittered with tears.

  Allison placed a hand on his shoulder. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Ellie has invited us to eat with her and Bethany. After that, we’ll have Cilla and Bethany play the piano for us. How does that sound?”

  “Will you teach me how to pray, Miss Grainger,” Brady asked, “so I can pray for my dad and the others?”

  Allison’s gaze met her sister’s. Ellie offered her a poignant smile. Allison heard the thickness of tears in her voice when she said, “Of course I’ll teach you to pray, Brady, but there’s nothing to it. We just tell the Lord what’s on our hearts. As soon as we get to Ellie’s, we’ll say another prayer for your pa and Dan and Ace to be safe and ask Him to keep us from worrying.”

  “Then what?”

  “And then we trust that He’ll grant what we ask for,” she said.

  Brady flung his arms around her and buried his face against her middle. “I love you, Miss Grainger.”

  Allison’s hands cupped the back of his head, holding him close and offering him what comfort she could. “I love you, too, Brady,” she whispered.

  As she spoke the words, she knew she meant them. How wonderful it would be to be a mother to this ornery, smart, incredible little boy and his sister. She didn’t think she could bear to give up the time she spent with them, but how could she continue to do so and not lose her heart completely? Besides, if the truth were known, she feared it was already too late.

  She glanced at Cilla. Though her back was ramrod-straight and she didn’t say a word, the expression in her blue eyes was one of thanks.

  Allison ruffled Brady’s hair. “Come on, you two. Let’s go eat, and after Cilla and Bethany play for us, I’ll trounce you all at checkers.”

  * * *

  The noontime meal was a fairly solemn affair, but as usual, Ellie’s simple lunch was amazing. It escaped no one’s notice that Brady stayed extra close to Allison, which only deepened her regret and sorrow.

  It was midafternoon when the t
hree of them left Ellie’s and made their way home. Not a breath of air stirred anywhere; even the tree branches seemed to sag beneath the weight of the oppressive heat that rose from the parched earth in waves Allison could feel through the thin soles of her Sunday shoes.

  As soon as they entered the house, she left the children in the parlor and went into the kitchen to get them all a cold glass of water.

  When she got back, she found Brady sprawled on the davenport fast asleep. Poor little guy! Though he’d seemed to enjoy the time at Ellie’s, the day’s stress had taken its toll. She set down the tray of glasses and went over to lift his feet onto the sofa, reasoning that it wouldn’t hurt just this once.

  “Shall we sit on the back porch?” Allison whispered to Cilla. “That way we won’t wake Brady.”

  Cilla nodded, and followed Allison into the kitchen. They carried two bentwood chairs to the back and placed them in the shaded area at the end.

  “We need rain,” Allison said, staring out across the meadow at the cloudless cerulean sky.

  “Pa says if we don’t get some more soon, the farmers will lose their crops.”

  “He’s right.”

  After they sipped their water in silence for a while, Allison said, “I know you’re as worried about your father as Brady is, but we have to keep praying and trust that God will protect him and the others.”

  “I know.” Cilla took another swallow of water. “I don’t remember a lot about my ma, but I do remember that sometimes when Pa left that she would walk the floor and cry.”

  “Being married to a lawman must be very hard on his family.”

  Cilla looked at her a moment, as if she were trying to decide something, then blurted, “Is that why you won’t marry him?”

  Allison knew her surprise must be obvious. One thing about the Garrett children—they were not afraid to walk where angels feared to tread. Never in her life had she experienced any children as blunt and outspoken as Brady and Priscilla Garrett.

  “Well,” Allison said, careful to choose words that would skirt the main part of the question, “I confess that until he was called away this morning, I’d never given any consideration to the dangers that go with his job. I mean, Wolf Creek is a pretty quiet town, and it’s seldom something like the Elton Thomerson jailbreak comes up.”

  “But you would...miss him if something happened to him, wouldn’t you?” Cilla persisted, a frown wrinkling her smooth brow.

  Miss him? The very thought of something happening to him made Allison’s blood run cold. She wasn’t sure what she might do if he didn’t come back. Like it or not, she loved him and could not imagine her world without him. She had the sudden notion that refusing his proposal was the dumbest thing she had ever done. Was it?

  “I’d miss him very much.”

  “It’s church, isn’t it? You said you could never marry a man who didn’t love God.”

  “Yes, I did tell you that.”

  “But Pa came this morning!” Cilla cried. “Don’t you think that means he’s going to try to change for you?”

  “I don’t want him to change for me,” Allison said. “I want him to change for himself. That’s the only way he’ll ever find true happiness and peace, Cilla. People can go to services all their lives and not be a true Christian. We serve God because we want to, not because we have to, or just to make someone else happy.”

  Cilla stared into her water glass and thought about that while Allison’s heart ached for them both.

  “What if he does change? Really change? Would you marry him then?”

  “Oh, Cilla!” Allison breathed, on a little chuckle. She reached out and smoothed a palm over the child’s gleaming brown hair. “It isn’t just about me and what I would do. In an ideal world, people marry because they love each other. And in our case there’s you and Brady to consider.”

  “But we like you and we told him we wanted you for our ma, so that’s all taken care of. The question is, do you love Pa?”

  Again, Allison was amazed by the child’s forthrightness. “I...care for him very much,” she admitted.

  “That means yes,” Cilla said shrewdly. “I haven’t heard him say it, but I know he loves you, too. He’s been like a dog with a sore paw ever since you turned him down.”

  “I’m afraid that’s just wishful thinking on your part.”

  “No, it’s true!” Cilla set her glass on a small table sitting between the two chairs and leaped to her feet. She plunged her hand into her skirt pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper out. With a triumphant grin, she held it out to Allison.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it. You’ll see.”

  Frowning, Allison reached out a cautious hand and took the page from Cilla. She couldn’t imagine what it could be.

  Cilla stood there, a wide smile on her face, her hands clasped together in anticipation. Allison unfolded the page that had been torn from a tablet. The heading leaped out at her.

  PROSPECTIVE BRIDES

  * * *

  Elton was here, no doubt about it. Both his and Joseph Jones’s horses were tied near the front of the small tumbledown house.

  A woodpecker hammered away at a nearby tree, and a squirrel chattered high above. When they’d arrived, Colt and his deputies had hunkered down behind a rotted, fallen tree in the midst of a thicket of young persimmon sprouts that provided good cover and made a respectable observation place.

  Even in the shadows of the woods, the heat was oppressive. An occasional rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, threatening rain. That had happened a lot since the brief but torrential storm that canceled the ice-cream social the previous week, but so far the warnings hadn’t produced a single drop of moisture.

  They’d been here since before noon, and it was about half past three. He was getting thirsty, and waiting for something to happen was growing wearisome. With some silent hand signals to his friends, Colt eased through the trees toward the horses that were tied farther back in the woods, intending to fetch the canteens.

  About an hour ago, they’d heard one of Elton and Meg Thomerson’s babies crying and a lot of yelling back and forth between her and Elton. Ace had tensed and Colt could see the muscles in his jaw knot in fury. All had been quiet since.

  After retrieving the canteens, Colt slipped back through the woods, handing one to each of his friends. He unscrewed the cap and started to take a swallow when Dan jerked his head toward the cabin and whispered, “Look there.”

  Elton had come out onto the porch, shoving Meg in front of him, using her as a shield. She was terrified.

  Colt put the cap back and lowered the metal container to the ground by the strap, while he reached for his rifle with his free hand, peering through gaps in the drooping leaves of the scrub trees. Kneeling, Dan rested his weapon on the stump of the dead tree. Ace stood slowly, his rifle at the ready.

  Meg’s hair had come loose from its pins, and Elton’s hand was twisted through it to hold her in place. His other hand gripped the revolver he had pressed against her side. She was cradling her left elbow against her body with her right hand. Sounds of her soft sobbing mingled with the moaning of the wind and the sounds of the woods.

  Ace muttered something in either Cherokee or Celtic. Whichever it was, Colt didn’t understand a word of it, but he got the gist nevertheless. A muscle knotted in Ace’s lean jaw.

  “Hiding behind a woman’s skirts?” Ace taunted so that Elton would have no trouble hearing.

  “Keep your mouth shut, breed,” Elton screamed back.

  He was drunk and probably still drinking. After all, he’d been deprived of his favorite pastime while he was behind bars. Elton, a country boy with more than his fair share of “blarney,” as Ace might say, was once considered one of the best-looking men in the county.

  Always one to have
his way with the women, he’d set his sights on Meg, a pretty little thing who came from a poor family. He’d charmed her and wooed her and bought her pretty things, and when she’d come up pregnant, he’d done the right thing according to society’s standards and married her. It might have been the right thing to do in the eyes of the world, but her marriage had been pure hell for Meg.

  “Are the kids okay?” Colt called.

  “Don’t you worry about my kids,” Elton said. “I’d never hurt a hair of their heads.”

  “Then let them come out, and Dan can take them back to town.”

  With the children gone, it would be two less people Colt had to worry about getting hurt in the standoff he knew was to come.

  “They’re fine right where they are,” Elton insisted.

  “You know this isn’t going to end well for you, Thomerson, so why don’t you give yourself up?” Dan called.

  Elton laughed, an ugly sound with no kinship to joy. “Your deputy deaf, Sheriff? I ain’t changed my mind in the last couple minutes.”

  “Then what are you doing out here?”

  “Well,” the outlaw drawled, “I just want you all to take a good gander at my pretty wife. She ain’t hurt too bad right now, but that’s easy changed if y’all don’t hightail it back to town and let me leave here in peace.”

  To prove his point, he gave a hard yank on Meg’s hair. She gave a sharp cry of pain. “I can hurt her real bad, and you know I’ll do it if I have to.”

  “You know I can’t just let you ride away from here, Elton,” Colt called. “My job is to bring you in. I’d prefer to take you in alive, and it would be a lot easier for everyone if you just let her go and you and Joseph give yourselves up.”

  “I don’t think so, Sheriff. Prison life don’t agree with me. If you’da just let well enough alone, my good friend Joe woulda had time to move the loot. Then when we broke out, we’d have been long gone, and none of this would be happenin’.”

  Colt forced a bitter laugh. “The problem with that is you lied and sent my friend to the pen when he didn’t belong there. The law is all about justice, Elton.”