by Susan Page Davis, Darlene Franklin, Pamela Griffin, Lisa Harris
“Yes. It’s delicious.”
He poured a bit of coffee in the cup and then added milk warmed in a pan before stirring them together. “I understand heating the milk is the secret to a good cup. I’ll let you add whatever sugar you want.”
After he set breakfast on the table, he carried on light banter while they ate. With each bite, she regained a portion of her equanimity. When she had finished, she felt less frightened of speaking with him, even if not quite ready.
Daniel cleared the table and fixed them both another cup of coffee. “Shall we move to the parlor?” His gentle smile encouraged her to move.
Daniel took the overstuffed chair that was Lewis’s favorite seat, and Clara’s worries returned. She set down her coffee cup.
He leaned forward. “I am willing to listen to whatever upset you so this morning.”
No. I can’t. I won’t.
He paused, and when she didn’t answer, he spoke again. “But I suspect you’re a lot like me. You don’t want to talk about it.” He raised an eyebrow, and she nodded.
“That’s what I thought. So, I’ll tell you why I came here instead. I need to talk to Lewis, is all. We’re concentrating on—”
“Bank employees. Of course.” She couldn’t put off the decision any longer. Should she say something or not? “I’m afraid he’s not here.”
“I noticed his horse was gone when I put my horse in the barn.” Daniel sipped his coffee.
“When do you expect him home?”
“He doesn’t tell me his plans.” I made him leave. “He may not come back for a few days, since the bank is closed.”
“And do you know where he went?”
She shook her head, and he sighed. “Please tell me as much as you know about his movements this week.”
“I suggested he apply for the job. Which he did.” The fact that it had brought her so much joy at the time now hung heavy in her heart. “He spent the last two days at the bank, and last night he took me out to dinner.”
“Dinner at the café. Fannie mentioned that to me this morning.” Daniel looked to the window and then back at her. “She said he paid her with this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin.
The color that had brightened and softened Clara’s face fled in an instant, and Daniel’s heart sank. No, please, no. He didn’t want his suspicions confirmed any more than Clara would want to believe it.
“He said Simeon paid him yesterday.” She glanced away.
Daniel turned the coin over in his palm. “Do you know if he has more coins like this?”
She hesitated. “Not for certain.”
He waited her out. He didn’t want to put words into her mouth, but silence often provoked further conversation.
“I found a coin purse in his room, but I didn’t look in it. For all I know, it’s filled with pennies.”
“Let’s go see, then, shall we?” Without giving her time to protest, he set down his cup and headed for the stairs. He heard her soft tread behind him and paused. “It’s that way.” He didn’t need her to point the way since a faint but perceptible odor of liquor was evident.
Clara followed him as far as the doorway. “The coin purse was underneath the bed.” Misery dripped from her voice.
Daniel’s hand scooted around the cavity but encountered nothing but a few dust balls. “It’s not there. Does he have any other hiding places?”
She hesitated, perhaps unwilling to intrude on her adult brother’s privacy. Her mouth thinning in a straight line, she went to the bureau and opened the second drawer, where she pulled out a cigar box from the far corner.
“As a boy, he put his most prized treasures in here.” Clara ran her hands over the top.
“A never-fail fishing lure. The ribbons he won at school. Any rock that he found especially interesting. That kind of thing.” She lifted it to her ear and shook it, as if guessing the contents. “It’s too light for anything heavy.”
“Let’s open it and see, shall we?”
Clara gave it to Daniel, her teeth biting into her bottom lip, and retreated to the door.
The box that had seemed enormous to him as a boy now fit in one hand. He hefted it and looked at the clasp. “Doesn’t look like it’s been opened for a while.” He smiled at her, and the worry on her face lessened by a fraction.
He lifted the cover and breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing there but the mementos of a man’s boyhood, darkened by grime deposited over the years. To make certain, he lifted out the items one at a time, checking for anything hidden at the bottom of the box. A sheet of paper, folded in half, detailed a map with X marking the spot of some buried treasure. The crude writing and crayon pronounced the work of a child, not a grown man. Not that he expected Lewis to leave a map to his treasure, in any case.
The thought wouldn’t leave him alone, though. What had worked well before might serve the same purpose a second time. He and Clara needed to go on a treasure hunt.
Chapter 11
Do you know anything about this?” Daniel handed Clara the map. He headed out the bedroom door and back down the stairs. He heard a slight giggle and relaxed.
“Lewis was fascinated by the stories of the famous pirate LaFitte.” Her face softened, and he saw traces of the young girl she had been. “Papa told him no pirates ever came to Vermont, that we don’t even have an ocean here, but Lewis loved to pretend. He spent an entire summer searching for buried treasure. Whenever I needed to find him, I’d have to follow his latest treasure map.”
“Did he bury treasure of his own?” Daniel wiggled his eyebrows.
“Of course!” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh.”
Daniel took a deep breath. He wished he didn’t have to ask the next question. “Can you find the spot marked on this map?”
“But he was just a child….” Her voice trailed away. “I know exactly where it is. Come with me.”
She could have avoided the question, but Clara wasn’t that kind of woman. Tension screamed from her shoulders, as rigid as a plumb line, but she led him outside. “The big red box is the barn, of course.” She pointed to an overgrown field to the west. “And the round green circle is the field Papa let lie fallow. Behind that are the trees. The black circle is the well, or rather, where the well used to be.” She studied the map again, a crude X covering a field of purple and blue. “He dug his hole in a patch of wildflowers. He made me mad when he destroyed all that beauty for pretend treasure. It’s this way.” Without warning, she took off across the yard, and he let her take the lead. Right now, she’d welcome his company about as much as a polecat.
She led him about a five-minute walk into the woods, far enough to feel like an adventure to a small boy. The place where she stopped looked a lot like the woods around them.
“I believe this is the place, although it’s hard to tell.” She gazed into the tree branches. “The tree has grown since then, but I see the crook where I used to climb.” Her face colored.
“I spent a summer climbing trees before I decided no girl should do such a thing.” She shook her head. “Whatever he buried is in this spot. There’s only one problem.” She gestured.
“Neither one of us brought a digging tool.”
“That’s all right.” Daniel bent down to examine the spot. “No one has dug here for years. We’d know if there had been any recent activity.”
The last of the worry lines disappeared from Clara’s face. “Then he hasn’t been here.” She acted like it proved Lewis’s innocence, but then her shoulders slumped. “Not that that means anything.”
Daniel put his good arm around her shoulders. “Let’s head back. Things will sort themselves out.” She allowed his embrace, leaning into him, and his heart sang.
Clara welcomed Daniel’s strength of mind, of character, of body. How tired she was of doing things on her own, taking care of a brother like a parent instead of being his older sister and friend. She made no move to put space between her and Daniel, lost in their own p
rivate Camelot. She could rest there forever. All too soon they reached the fields and then the yard. He let go of her shoulder and opened the door to the barn.
She lit a lamp to chase the shadows. If only she could find a lantern of truth to light the way through the mess with Lewis. She looked out the open door, willing him to return with an innocent explanation. In her heart, she knew that wouldn’t happen.
“Even if he is involved, he didn’t act alone.” Daniel shuffled his feet.
She turned a snort into a hiccup. “Does that make it any better?”
“Maybe not in the eyes of the law, but it matters to me. Sometimes a group of men will do things they would never do as individuals.” His eyes grew dark, and she wondered if some dark memory haunted him.
He shook himself and walked to the back wall. “Are these yours?” He pointed to a pair of heavy saddlebags.
She shook her head. “They belong to Lewis.”
“Do you mind?” Assuming her assent, he lifted the bags from the peg and brought them to her. As soon as he opened the bag, odors assaulted her. The condensed aroma of tobacco and whiskey cleared her breathing, and spices reminiscent of church and kitchen tickled her memory—Lewis’s cologne.
“I’ll have to take this with me.” Daniel didn’t move, his forage cap in his hand. “I won’t tax your conscience and make you promise to tell me when you see Lewis again. I will leave that between the two of you and God.” He looked at her then, and the sad smile on his face made her tingle all over.
She wanted to throw herself into his arms, to promise him the moon, but she couldn’t.
“I appreciate that.”
He handed her the map, letting his hand linger a moment longer than necessary before he grabbed the reins of his horse. The horse moseyed toward the barn door, keeping pace with her steps. After mounting the horse, Daniel paused. “I meant what I said earlier. Every word.” He bent over and kissed the top of her head. Then with a kick into the sides of the horse, he burst into the sunshine and headed away from Clara.
She wandered into the house, dazzled and dazed. She looked in the same mirror that had reflected her in her dressing gown earlier. The same rosy cheeks and bright eyes stared back at her. She patted the top of her head, where she could feel the imprint of his kiss. Before she could change her mind at such a foolish act, she grabbed a pair of scissors and cut a small swatch of hair from the crown of her head and slipped it into a locket. Not until she finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes did she realize they hadn’t once discussed her plans for the school. Where had her brain disappeared when it mattered? Hiding in the shadow of her heart, apparently. If she couldn’t get Daniel Tuttle out of both heart and head, she might have to find another place to start her school.
From then on, the day worsened. The promising sunshine of early morning clouded over by midafternoon and settled into a perpetual twilight indicative of snow. Where had Lewis gone? She regretted her threat. The last place he needed to go was among people who would encourage further wrongdoing. “Lord, You know where he is. And he is Yours.” At least she thought Lewis was a Christian. As a boy, he had gone forward at a revival meeting and been baptized. For a time, he hungered for spiritual things as much as she did. What had happened to him?
The hours stretched out like the expanse of the ocean the one time she had seen it. Even Walden couldn’t hold her attention today. Turning mattresses and adding quilts burned some of her energy before she extracted the Atlantic Monthly to copy the story for Libby.
By day’s end, snow fell like a fine mist, covering the ground with a crazy quilt design. She went to the barn for the evening chores. The unique aroma of Lewis’s cologne seemed to hang in the air, taunting her. How hadn’t she recognized it before? Maybe she could blame it on her sniffles.
The door swung open, light outlining a shadowy figure on horseback. Afraid as never before, Clara backed into the far corner, where she hoped the darkness would hide her. But then she recognized the profile and knew her brother had returned.
Lewis whistled, a march that rang in her ears, and she slid down the wall. He had no right to be so happy, not when he had brought such misery on the town.
The time had come for Lewis to take accountability for his actions. She would go to Daniel in the morning and tell him she would help him in any way she could.
“Are you certain about this?”
Clara’s determination almost faltered under the kindness of Daniel’s gaze, but she held on. “Yes. If he’s innocent, I want it proven. And if he’s guilty, then … I do him no favors by protecting him from the consequences of his actions.”
The weight on Clara’s heart had lightened when she found Daniel at the jail, since she didn’t leave home until after Lewis had left. What if he asked questions about her destination? Oh, I’m just going into town to talk with Captain Tuttle about catching you and the other bank robbers.
“Very well.” Daniel drummed his fingers on the desk. “Your timing is perfect. Simeon is joining me in a few minutes to discuss our plans.” He stood and retrieved a coffeepot from the stove. “Want a cup? I’ll warn you: It’s my usual mud. Maybe I should serve it to you in a bowl with a spoon.”
She giggled. Trust Daniel to find a way to bring humor to the sad situation. “I’ll pass, thank you.”
He poured himself a cup and put the pot back on the stove. “I’m surprised you came into town, with the snow last night.”
“That dusting wouldn’t keep a bear in his den unless he had already settled in for his winter’s nap.” She didn’t know if she was pleased or offended that Daniel saw her as a fragile flower ready to wither at the first sign of bad weather.
He saluted her with the cup.
Silence stretched. “Did you ask about the saddlebags?” She had to know the answer.
Daniel’s smile faded. “Beaton recognized the scent. It was the same one he smelled on the day of the robbery.”
A sliver of hope disappeared with the answer. Clara glanced at the clock. As the minute hand inched toward the top of the hour, the front door opened, and Simeon Tuttle poked his head in.
“Daniel, I didn’t know you had an appointment. I’ll come back.”
“No, come on in. Miss Farley is going to take part in our discussions.”
The banker hid well any surprise he felt. That inexpressive face probably served him well in business. Not Daniel. His eyes ranged between surprise and delight and anger with very little attempt to hide his emotions.
Simeon dragged the only other chair in the room to the front of Daniel’s desk and cocked his head in Clara’s direction. “How can we help you? We’re not ready to finalize the arrangements about the house with the recent problems at the bank.”
She shook her head. “That’s not why I’m here.” A glance at Daniel told her he left the explanation up to her. Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, she said, “I want to get to the truth about Lewis. If he is involved, and even—Lord be thanked—if he is not. And to identify who else might be responsible.”
“Ah.” Simeon settled back in his chair and rubbed his chin with his hand. “I appreciate that.”
“Daniel—Captain Tuttle—said you had a plan?”
“We worked it out yesterday.” Simeon glanced at Daniel, who nodded. “We need to replenish cash in the bank, since they wiped us out.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t look so worried.” Daniel smiled at her. “We have a plan.”
So you say. “And that is?”
“A decoy.” Daniel gestured for his brother to explain.
“I will let it slip that we are expecting a lockbox by carriage tomorrow—on Saturday, when the bank is ordinarily closed. The carriage will stop at the bridge, where the money will be transferred to a single rider.”
“Me.” Daniel grinned. “As well as a posse of men prepared to take action, but they will be well hidden.”
Clara’s heart shuddered. The proposal exposed everyone involved to danger.
“We’re going to be sure they know exactly where the exchange will take place. When I examined the old bridge yesterday, I noticed a lot of good hiding places. An excellent place for an ambush.”
“If robbery is attempted, we’ll catch them red-handed.” Excitement stripped years from Simeon’s countenance.
Clara caught sight of the handcuffs dangling from the wall behind Daniel’s desk, ready for the bank robbers. A vision of Lewis dragged off to jail like a common criminal swam before her eyes, but she hardened her heart. He would only be arrested if he was involved. “How can I help?”
Simeon held his hands in front of him, and she noticed how white and clean they were, indicative of someone who worked with his brain and not with his hands. Unlike Daniel’s strong, brown hand, which promised single-handed rescue if the need arose. “Please tell Lewis that we need the bank employees back in the morning. I’ll send a messenger as well, but I want to reinforce the request.”
Daniel blew air from his cheeks and slapped his hand against the heavy desk. “And if you should happen to mention the gold shipment …” His eyes grabbed hers, daring her to say no.
The windowless building crowded in on Clara, stealing her breath with its stale odor of past sins and justice applied. “I’ll do it.” With those words, she stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” If she didn’t leave soon, she’d faint on the spot.
Once outside, deep breaths of the cold autumn air shocked her into alertness. She considered going to Dixon’s to check for new books. Before she had decided her next move, Daniel and Simeon left the jailhouse.
As Simeon headed for the bank, Daniel approached her. “I’ve thought about your requested changes to the house.”
Thoughts swirled in Clara’s head for a moment before the change of subject registered.
“Good. I’ve wondered what the status was.” She forced a chuckle. “When I wasn’t worrying about Lewis.”
“Shall we discuss the changes over one of Fannie’s fine breakfasts?” He gestured in the direction of the café, a smile warming his face, as if the fact she had agreed to betray her brother didn’t matter.
