by DiAnn Mills
“Martha, are you afraid of Turner?” Ben’s soft tone was what Grant appreciated about his brother-in-law. Compassion for the downtrodden.
“Normally, I’m not afraid of much, but I have my sons to consider. Now you can arrest him, right?”
“Ellen identified him as her attacker.”
“We have to find him first,” Ben said. “He supposedly left town.”
Grant glanced out the open window of his office. No breeze today. Just the stifling heat that caused tempers to soar and strong men to grow weak.
Jenny, are you safe?
*****
Jenny watched the countryside disappear as the train passed by tall, spindly pines and green, rolling hills dotted with colorful foliage. The steady click of the train wheels against the track took her farther and farther away from the people and the town she loved. Her lace handkerchief rested damp in the palm of her hand from wiping away the many tears. Each time she recalled a special moment with Grant, Rebecca, the Andrews family, Miss Mimi, or Ellen, her eyes flooded again. All that she had left from the summer rested in the fond memories forever embedded in her heart.
“Miss, is there anything I can do for you?” a kindly porter said.
“No, thank you.”
The porter smiled. “I’ll check with you later.”
Jenny brushed away the wetness only to have her eyes water. Pleasant recollections drifted by, much like the miles, leaving a landscape of beauty far behind, never to be forgotten and never to be recaptured again. She knew no regrets in coming to Texas. How could she? For there in that country town she had found the meaning of love and a real relationship with Jesus Christ. Without a doubt, she knew her trip had been the result of divine intervention. This fact alone comforted her as the train chugged along.
Little Rebecca would grow into a fine young lady. Jenny wanted to remember her niece on special occasions with small sentiments. After all, she didn’t really want Rebecca to forget her aunt Jenny.
How could I ever have thought she would be better off with Mother and Father or me? A permanent lump seemed to have settled in her throat. How selfish she’d been when what she really needed was to experience God’s unconditional love.
Images of Grant crept into her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to push them away. She wondered how long before he forgot her—how long before he began escorting another woman to church. Oh, how she loved Kahlerville’s young doctor. His green eyes flashed vividly across her mind. If only he’d loved her in return, then she might be there today. But Grant knew all her ugly traits—how she’d tried to steal his precious Rebecca. Nothing good could come from a love begun in deceit.
Pushing the summer from her mind, she envisioned teaching school and going on with her life without her parents’ influence. She whimsically hoped for a softening of their spirits, even though she knew such a feat was impossible. They had little use for Christianity or those who professed such beliefs. Of course, not so long ago, she had shared in their opinions.
She had ignored their disapproval of her activities and continued to write cheery letters in which she spoke of the people and events going on around her. She needed for them to see she was happy and content, more at peace than she had ever thought possible. Jenny smiled in guessing her mother’s reaction to the news of her daughter learning how to cook.
Jenny sensed a special closeness to Jessica, and someday she planned to instill in her own children the value of telling them how much they are loved. A twinge of regret nibbled at her in the decision to leave the journal with Grant. She’d reread many portions of it, enough to memorize the treasured entries so dear to her. How grand if she’d discovered where Jessica had deposited the money and then presented it to Grant for Rebecca and the young women from the brothel. Nevertheless, she felt Grant would have no difficulty in deciphering its contents.
She looked around at the few passengers. Two men sat several seats in front of her. From time to time, they talked quite loudly and smoked foul-smelling cigars. She remembered how the smell had made her stomach retch on her trip to Texas, and she shuddered at the thought of the sickness returning. The older couple opposite her appeared deeply engrossed in a newspaper and spoke in low whispers. No other passengers were on the train.
She couldn’t help but feel ashamed and embarrassed about her first train ride to Texas. It didn’t matter that she’d been ill. She’d still treated people horribly. Jenny hoped she might see some of those same faces again so she could apologize for her previous behavior.
She wanted to do so much for Jesus, to have her life count for good, and to touch people’s lives the way she’d been touched by Him. Jesus rode with her on the lonely train back to Ohio. She knew He understood her sadness and the pain in leaving Kahlerville.
Little time remained before school started, and she needed to prepare herself for the new students. Already she intended to use hymns in her piano lessons and to utilize the optional opening time at the beginning of the school day for prayer and devotions. Once she had ignored it, but no longer. Bible verse memorization and student-read scripture would benefit not only the students but also the teacher.
Her mind swept over Cleveland’s familiar streets and the churches solidly built on their corners. Finding a suitable church home might take awhile.
A man sat down beside her, interrupting her reflections.
“Good morning, Jenny.”
She gasped, alarmed with the instant recognition of the man. Caution and control fought to keep her steady. “Aubrey, what a surprise.”
“I gathered you’d feel that way.” He flicked a bit of dust from his jacket.
“I thought you’d left town earlier.”
“A bit of unfinished business brought me back.” His violet eyes looked menacing, and she noted his smile and charm from past encounters had vanished.
The handsome features that once had attracted her to Aubrey Turner now filled her with morbid dread. The revolver lay in her reticule. She’d use it if he refused to leave her alone.
“I certainly hope your business is pleasant.” She searched for the porter.
“It all depends upon you, my dear,” he said.
“I know you mean well, but I really need this time to be alone.” She despised the game she played with this vile man.
“I’d planned for us to engage in some delightful conversations.”
Aubrey opened the left side of his jacket and revealed a small handgun. Before she could fully acknowledge the danger, he neatly slipped it from a strap around his shoulders and shoved the barrel into her ribs.
“Do not utter a sound,” he said. “Let me explain a peculiar fact about this type of handgun. It has a short firing range and sometimes misses the target entirely, but at this distance I believe accuracy isn’t a problem. You are mine, dear Jenny, to do with as I choose.”
Chapter 34
Grant saddled his spotted mare at the livery. He filled a saddlebag with extra bullets and strapped a holster around his waist. It had been a long time since he’d tied on a gun, and it felt foreign, uncomfortable, out of place. He’d been an expert marksman at one time, but that was years ago. Using violence to settle differences was against everything he believed in, but so was murder. His mind crept back to his fight with Sam Detterman. This wasn’t the same. With a deep sigh, he checked to make sure he’d included two canteens of water. The sun beat down hard—hot and relentless.
“Don’t you go looking for trouble,” Ben warned, watching him make ready. “You best let the law handle this.”
He ignored the warnings and tightened the cinch.
“Grant, why don’t you stay here and let us handle this business with Turner?”
“While you let him go after Jenny? I don’t think so. Not that I doubt your capabilities, but you stated what you could and couldn’t do.” He yanked on the girth. “Just wire those train stops for me. Maybe the law can get their hands on him or keep Jenny safe until I get there.”
“B
ut—”
He shook his head. “Look, Ben, you know when I set my mind on something, nothing changes it.”
“All right. I’ve already sworn in Frank, so don’t be worrying about your family. And I’ll be praying for you.”
The sound of an approaching rider captured Grant’s attention. In an instant, he recognized his brother. Morgan had stopped by the house earlier, and the two had argued about Grant taking out after Jenny. This time his brother rode one of his prize stallions—a sleek animal, all black except for a white star above its eyes.
“Is this a send-off party?” Grant said. “Or are you offering me one of your best horses?”
“Neither,” Morgan said. “I’m riding with you.”
“No, you’re not. This is too dangerous for a family man.”
“You have a child, too, little brother. I’m not letting you go after Jenny or Turner alone. No point in arguing with me. I’m the oldest.”
Grant’s temper simmered hot, and he wondered how to get rid of Morgan. “We haven’t had a good fight in years, but I’m in the mood for one now.”
“Might not set well that the town’s doctor and lawyer were brawling in the street—good Christian men that we are. Besides, I saw how you and Sam Detterman looked after the Fourth of July.” He narrowed his eyes. “My mind is set on going with you.” He pushed his hat back and revealed a receding hairline.
Grant glared at him. “I don’t need your help.”
“You don’t have a choice in the matter.”
He expelled a deep breath, realizing his brother definitely was the expert in debate. “And how does Casey feel about this?”
“She’s fighting this one on her knees.”
Grant swung up into the saddle. “Your wife has more sense than both of us. If you’re coming, let’s get going. Time’s wasting.”
*****
The longer Jenny sat, the more she battled the nausea churning in her stomach. Aubrey Turner had trapped her. Unspoken words between them, linked with the journal’s truth, caused her to shiver uncontrollably. She wanted to leap across him and shout for help, but instead she sat numb with fear. At least she still had her reticule within her fingertips.
“And if you decide to go ahead and scream, I also have a revolver that could easily eliminate the passengers or employees of this fine Union Pacific coach.” Aubrey smiled candidly, tilting his head as though engaging her in an intimate chat.
She breathed a prayer for deliverance. “What do you want from me?”
“I believe you already know the answer, being the smart young woman that you are. My money, please. After all, that is why you traveled all this way.”
She fought the rising panic. “I have no idea what this is all about. I came to learn about my sister.”
Aubrey stared at her, his eyes emotionless. A slight smile played upon his lips. “You came to Texas to recover the money Jessica stole from me. I don’t think I’m mistaken when I say you and Ellen were in this scheme together.”
“What money?” The words of the journal scrolled across her mind. “If my sister stole money from you, I don’t know where it is.” How quickly could she retrieve her revolver? Would he really hurt these innocent people?
“You sound as ignorant as Ellen.”
“Ellen was Jessica’s friend, and now she’s mine. I came to Texas to visit my niece and learn what I could about my sister’s death. I had never met or heard of Ellen until Grant Andrews told me about her.” Jenny feared she was losing control. Hysteria twisted and rose like a vine that threatened to choke the life out of her.
“And you have no idea where Jessica put my money?”
His face slowly turned crimson. Father often grew angry this way, but his temper did not trigger the fear that this man evoked. “I swear to you I have no idea.”
“Ellen insisted the same thing.” He jabbed the gun barrel deep into her side. “Right up until I finally had to kill her. Her begging scratched at my nerves—just like that old lady where she used to live.”
Jenny’s mouth grew dry, and the words refused to form. “Ellen . . . you killed Ellen? And Mrs. Lewis?”
“And you’ll end up just like them if you don’t tell me what I need to know. The old woman just keeled over, but Ellen was a fighter.”
She feared the terror would overcome her sanity. “If I knew where Jessica hid your money, then I’d tell you.” She moistened her dry lips. “You can go through my trunk and see for yourself.”
He chuckled. “I intend to go through everything you own, and if that doesn’t bring me any satisfaction, then I’ll search every inch of you. The latter may be quite enjoyable. At least your sister always took pleasure in that sort of thing.”
“I’d rather be dead.” Instantly she regretted her words.
“I can accommodate your wishes.”
“Please, listen to me. Would I willingly offer my trunk and bags if I had anything that belonged to you?”
He turned in his seat to face her and smiled as though filled with unwavering devotion. The small gun pierced her ribs. “Possibly. The fear of death brings about strange behavior in most people.” He caressed her cheek. “I detest the thought of soiling your pretty blue traveling attire. No matter. I’ll get my money from you with or without your assistance.”
She shuddered. Casey would have been smarter than this. She’d have out-thought this disgusting animal.
Aubrey picked up her trembling gloved hand and kissed it lightly before placing it back in her lap. “There’s a stop scheduled in a few hours, pretty lady. You and I will get off there so I can continue my questioning.”
“But there’s nothing to find.”
“Well, looks like I’ll need to dispose of you, doesn’t it?”
Her pulse quickened. “Then you’ll have three murders on your hands.”
“It will be one of many.”
Jenny chilled to the bone. The vine of desperation tightened. “I can’t give you what I don’t have.”
“I’m positive you know more than you indicate, so relax and enjoy the journey until we get to the next town. I’ve already informed the porter to have your belongings ready. And I’ll take your reticule. There may be something of interest there for me.” He reached for her bag. In the next moment he laughed. “Clever girl. I’d never have guessed you had a gun. You do surprise me. Your sister detested them. You have amazed me on more than one occasion, like boarding the train to this forsaken dirt hole without your parents’ knowledge.”
Jenny sank back into the seat, terrified and unable to sort through her thoughts to think, to plan. She couldn’t even pray properly. Turner had killed Ellen! Precious, dear Ellen, whose only crime was friendship.
My dear sister, I know you never intended for those you loved to be killed over Aubrey’s money. I wish I had the journal. I’d gladly give it to him so he could figure it out for himself.
But Aubrey didn’t know about the journal. He couldn’t link any of this to Grant, and that might guarantee his and Rebecca’s safety.
Perhaps she might gain permission to excuse herself for a moment of discretion and find someone to help her. Surely the conductor had a weapon to protect the passengers. Railroads were supposed to be prepared for emergencies. Folding her hands primly, Jenny decided to sit quietly and concentrate on every prayer she’d ever heard. In a little while she’d plead her situation and hope he’d not be cruel enough to deny her a moment of privacy.
As Turner had stated, a few hours later the train screeched and began a slow halt. Jenny watched Aubrey carefully study two men standing at the railroad station. Both of them wore badges. Her spirits lifted. Surely the lawmen could free her. Her previous plan of seeking help failed when he refused her the necessary room.
Thank You. Hope lifted her spirits. Aubrey had said they must prepare to disembark from the train. She relaxed slightly. They would pass right by the two men wearing badges.
Oh, Lord, help me to break away from him, and please don’t let
any innocent people get hurt.
“We’re departing from the rear.” Aubrey grasped her elbow. “I’ll have someone from the hotel get your trunk.”
Before she had a moment to contemplate his decision, Jenny found herself pushed along the aisle and out the rear door. Her feet barely touched the ground as the train still moved along its track.
If only those men could see that she was in danger. But if she called out for help, Aubrey might shoot one of them. No one here knew he had murdered Ellen. No one knew he’d threatened her. Her hope was futile.
Aubrey hooked her arm into his, and together they strolled into the noisy hotel. She held her breath, repulsed when he signed the hotel register as Mr. and Mrs. Charles Windsor. Pulling a silver dollar from his pocket, he flipped it to a youth standing nearby.
“Here, boy. Fetch my trunk at the train stop. There will be another one for you when you bring it up to our room. The name is Windsor, Charles Windsor.”
The excited youth sped from the hotel lobby, banging the door behind him and irritating the matronly hotel clerk. Jenny glowered at Aubrey, but he pressed a kiss against her cheek and smiled, clearly displaying his milky-white teeth.
“I loved Jessica,” he said. “She was the one woman who could have had everything I own. The mere sight of her took away my breath.”
He reminded her of an oleander—handsome but deadly.
The matronly woman warmly welcomed the two and handed him the keys to a second-floor room. Together Jenny and Aubrey mounted the stairs, and he ostentatiously complimented her loveliness. Once inside the room, she found the courage to challenge his obvious foolishness.
“And how will you get my trunk using the name of Charles Windsor?” The question held more daring than she felt.
Obviously annoyed, Aubrey removed his jacket and laid it fastidiously across the back of an overstuffed chair.
