by Linda Ford
All he wanted was a chance to prove the McCoys were good people.
He reined away and headed straight for his grandmother’s home. At least she had never accused him. A suspicion burned the edges of his brain. Did she suspect Linc’s father and simply not say so to spare Linc’s feelings? Did she have doubts about Linc? Hadn’t she said he should stay away from Sally? As if in her heart she didn’t believe he was good enough to be in the same circle of friends as a Morgan girl?
He allowed Red to slow his pace.
Did anyone in this town believe a McCoy was capable of being a decent person? Did his own grandmother?
How long before Sally heard everyone’s opinion of him? How long before she looked at him with the same guardedness or outright suspicion?
Not that it mattered. She intended to marry Abe Finley. He wondered if the two of them had discussed it already, or if it was merely an unspoken understanding.
Never mind. He was in town to ease his pa’s dying hours and perhaps help his grandmother. He wouldn’t let the opinion of a few…or many…drive him away.
He rode into the yard, took Red to the barn and brushed him down before he headed for the house. His palms were sweaty, and he scrubbed them on the side of his trousers. One thing he intended to get straight right here and now—what did Grandmama think?
The door crashed open.
Grandmama looked up, startled by his noisy entrance. “Linc, is something wrong?”
He jerked out a chair and dropped into it. “I saw Mr. Stewart.” He tried to tame his thoughts lest they burst out in unfair accusations. “He made it clear I am under suspicion as a McCoy and not welcome in this perfect little town.”
Grandmama’s short laugh was mirthless. “The town is far from perfect, and I’m sure Mr. Stewart doesn’t speak for everyone. At least, I’ve never heard that anyone voted him official spokesman.”
Linc gave her a direct, demanding look. “Does he speak for you?”
His grandmother looked shocked. “You have always been welcome here.”
“Do you think the McCoys stole those jewels?” He deliberately aligned himself with his father and brother.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to think so, but after your mother died.... Well, your father was pretty upset and didn’t much care what he did.”
“So you think he might have taken them?”
She considered his question for the briefest moment. “I prefer to believe a person is innocent until proven guilty. And in this case, there was no evidence against your father. That’s good enough for me. It should be good enough for you and for all those people out there, too.”
Satisfied, he nodded and went to check on his pa.
He appreciated his grandmother’s attitude, but it wasn’t shared by everyone.
He wondered what opinion Sally held.
Or perhaps he didn’t want to know.
Chapter Six
Sally watched from the window for Linc’s appearance the next morning. Abe left instructions for her to tell Linc to paint the front fence before he started converting the barn into a garage.
Abe had left for work early. Carol had already departed for school.
It had been a good morning. Robbie came to the breakfast table on the first call, dressed neatly and ready for the day.
She and Abe looked at one another in surprise. As they studied each other, she saw in his expression something she’d never seen before—approval. But even more. Something that made her want to fidget.
Sally lowered her eyes first. She wished she could take credit for Robbie’s compliant behavior, but knew it was Linc’s doing. The boy was eager to see him again.
She tried to make herself believe she didn’t share the anticipation.
“Nice to see you here on time,” Abe said to Robbie.
“I got work to do,” Robbie said with utmost sincerity.
Again Sally sent Abe a look of surprise and amusement.
Abe shifted away first this time to study his son.
“Really? What are you doing?” He sounded every bit as doubtful as surprised.
“Building a fort.”
“Ah. Of course. Well, eat up and do your chores first.”
Sally had smiled at Robbie’s eager obedience as he ran to obey and then dashed outside. She looked out the window. Robbie had found a bunch of twigs and began to construct a fence around his hole. She realized with a start these twigs were from Linc’s pruning yesterday. He must have broken them to the right length for Robbie to use. Her heart felt bathed in warm honey to think he would do this little extra for the boy.
Robbie looked up and waved to someone she couldn’t see, then bounded to his feet and raced toward the barn.
Yesterday Linc came to the door upon his arrival. Today it seemed he didn’t intend to, which meant she would have to leave the security of the house in order to relay Abe’s instructions.
She removed her apron and draped it over the back of the chair. Then she changed her mind and again tied it around her waist. This was not a social call. He was here to work, and she had her own chores to take care of.
Ignoring the mirror in the back room, she went directly out the door. Robbie had disappeared, hopefully into the barn. The big doors stood open and a murmur of voices came from inside.
She paused at the gaping doorway and stared into the gloomy interior. “Hello?”
“We’re over here.” Linc’s voice came from a distant corner.
She hesitated, not wanting to join him in the shadows. Afraid of revealing too much of her confusion in the low light. “I need to talk to you.”
Muffled footsteps brought Linc to the bright patch of sunshine, Robbie at his side. “What can I do for you?”
A thousand things flooded her mind. Fun things. Picnics in the sun. Walks at dusk. Star watching—she jerked her thoughts into submission. “Abe said to ask you to paint the front fence first. He says there is paint in the last stall of the barn.”
“Sure. Not a problem.” His eyes flashed with humor, as if he’d read her wayward thoughts.
She lowered her gaze to Robbie. “Don’t get in Mr. McCoy’s way.”
Robbie stuck out his bottom lip. He hung between wanting to impress Linc with his good behavior and wanting to inform Sally what he thought of her order. Normally he would have exploded into a rage, but after a moment of struggle, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t bothering Linc, am I?” He appealed to the man at his side.
Linc ruffled the boy’s hair. “I have no complaints.”
Sally considered her options. Forcing Robbie to leave Linc alone would surely precipitate a scene, and she didn’t feel up to dealing with one of his tantrums. “What about your fort? I saw you building a fence.”
“Yup.” But no indication the boy meant to move.
Deciding it was up to Linc to tell the boy to leave if he didn’t want him hanging about, she retreated into the sunlight and turned toward the house. “I’ll be back to check on you.”
“Okay,” Linc and Robbie said in unison.
She stopped and slowly turned. “I meant Robbie.”
Linc grinned unrepentantly. “You’re welcome to check on me, too.”
Their gazes locked and went deep. Her heart stirred with a feeling unfamiliar, unsettling and equally unwelcome. “I’m sure you don’t need it.” She fled for safety behind the kitchen door.
She would avoid returning to the pair, but she worried Robbie would get into trouble. She could imagine him doing a number of things she would regret. But they moved outside to start painting the fence, which allowed her to glance out the side window in the back room to see them. Of course, she couldn’t help it if doing various chores made it impossible to avoid the room and just as impossible to avoid the window. So she told herself, even as guilt heated her cheeks. She had no business admiring the way a man’s muscles rippled as he applied long smooth strokes of paint.
Enough. She spun from the window and did not return for
fifteen determined minutes. She glanced out and saw Linc still at work, but she saw nothing of Robbie.
The boy could be anywhere. She rushed from the house and looked around. No Robbie. She called his name.
Linc straightened. “He’s in the barn.”
She lengthened her stride as she hurried for the building. “Robbie?”
“What?” he answered from the corner.
She edged closer and saw he’d found some cans and lengths of leather and was constructing something. If she had to guess, she’d say the cans were horses, and he’d hitched them to a piece of wood that might be meant to be a plow or some sort of equipment. The boy was a farmer at heart. Too bad his father was a town man. Too bad Abe didn’t see the value of hard physical work.
Sally’s mind wandered, forbidden, to Linc and the way he made work look easy, even seemed to enjoy it.
Her thoughts were particularly wayward this morning. She made up her mind to do something about it. “I have to go to the store. Clean up and come with me.”
Robbie threw himself to the ground and kicked his heels. “Don’t want to. You can’t make me.” His voice was tight.
Sally already knew defiance was his middle name. Nothing short of a lightning bolt would force the boy to change his mind. She stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out two pennies. “I have a hankering for one of those candy sticks. I thought you might want one, too. I guess if you don’t want to come, I’ll buy myself two.” She paused a beat. “Unless…” She waited.
He stopped kicking but lay still a minute, making sure she understood he didn’t give in easy. “Guess I’ll go,” he muttered, as if he did her a great favor.
“Fine. Cinnamon is my favorite flavor. What’s yours?” She reached for his grubby hand. Today she would not insist he wash up. Hopefully they would not encounter his father, who would surely disapprove of taking his son out in such a dusty state.
“I like ’em all, but maybe I’ll get a licorice one.” He took her hand and accompanied her peacefully.
They went out the gate and had to pass Linc on their way to the store. He stopped painting and watched them approach.
“I’m going to the store,” she said quite needlessly, as if it mattered to him.
“Have fun.” He waited for them to pass.
She continued onward, vowing not to look back, but as they turned the corner she glanced his direction. He still watched. Knowing he’d seen her looking, she jerked her attention to the sidewalk in front of them.
A few blocks later, she and Robbie entered Sharp’s store. A gaggle of women turned as they stepped inside.
Sally’s heart stalled. Why did they all stare at her? She handed Robbie a penny. “Go buy a candy stick for yourself.”
He needed no second asking.
Sally turned to Mr. Sharp. “Can I get some canned peaches?” She planned to make peach cobbler for supper. “Two dozen eggs and…” She felt the women crowd close as she completed her order.
How long could she ignore them? She bent over an ad for Dodd’s Kidney Pills tacked to the countertop and pretended a great deal of interest in the product.
Her pointed disinterest didn’t deter the women one bit. Not that she really expected it would.
“I hear the McCoys are back in town.” The words were accented by a loud sniff.
“Maybe they think Mrs. Ogilvy has more valuables to steal.”
Sally straightened but kept her back to the women, not wanting them to get any satisfaction out of her reaction. No doubt the protests flooding from her mind would be evident in her expression, but how dare they accuse Linc of such despicable motivations when he’d come because of his dying father?
“Don’t suppose they’ll do the noble thing and confess.”
Several jeers greeted the remark.
Sally turned to face them. She knew each of the women. Mrs. Brennan was a known gossip, as were her three grown daughters standing at her side. Miss Carter, a bitter spinster who liked to imagine the worst of everyone. But seeing Bessy Johnson and Granny Smith with them surprised Sally. She faced that pair. “I would think you’d give a man the benefit of doubt.” She spread her glance across the others. “And how cruel to think of such things when Harris McCoy is barely cold in his grave, and Mr. McCoy is not likely to recover from his injuries.”
The women stared at her.
“Why Sally Morgan,” Bessy Johnson protested. “Are you defending the likes of the McCoys? Surely you haven’t fallen under their spell somehow.”
As one, the group shook their heads and made tsking noises.
Sally’s cheeks burned. She shouldn’t have spoken out so harshly. So rashly. “I’m sorry. I know nothing about what happened before we came.” All she knew was what she had seen and felt the past few days.
“I suppose that explains a lot.” Miss Carter patted her arm, as if to say only Sally’s innocence allowed her to speak out on behalf of the McCoys. “You didn’t see the three of them always eyeing up things and ducking down abandoned alleys when a decent person came along.”
“Maybe they understood the decent people of Golden Prairie meant to shun them and didn’t plan to give them a chance.”
As a group, the women sighed.
“You are far too innocent and trusting for your own good,” Mrs. Brennan said. “But I warn you, Sally Morgan, watch yourself around that young McCoy.”
Granny Smith leaned closer, favoring Sally with more than a hint of peppermint. “I hear Abe has hired the younger boy to do odd jobs. Is that true?”
Sally nodded mutely.
“How odd.” Granny Smith turned to the others. “Doesn’t it seem strange to you?”
They murmured agreement.
She returned her snapping gaze to Sally. “Why would he do such a thing?”
Relief eased the tension in Sally’s lungs. She could answer this truthfully and freely. “He told me the man was innocent and deserved to be treated fairly. Said it was his duty as a leader in the church to show a good example.”
The women drew back, practically creating a vacuum around Sally.
Mrs. Brennan was the first to recover. “He thinks he’s being fair? Sounds like he’s judging the rest of us. Well, I declare.” She drew in a long-suffering gasp. “He’ll live to regret his decision.” She pinned Sally with her unflinching gaze. “I hope you are wise enough to give that young man a wide berth.”
Sally tried to keep her expression blank, revealing none of her guilt and wariness, though she wondered if she succeeded when Mrs. Brennan’s eyes narrowed.
“You must be careful around such men. They have a way of turning a person’s thoughts into turmoil so what you always knew to be right and good suddenly doesn’t seem enough.” She turned her attention to her three gaping daughters. “Never let a man—any man—divert you from the straight and narrow path.”
“Yes, Mama,” they murmured in unison, then flashed looks ripe with accusation at Sally.
Is that what they thought? All of them? Sally went round the circle, looking at each woman and the variety of expressions. Some harsh and accusing, like the Brennans. Others leaned more toward resignation, as if feeling sorry for Sally. For something they had already decided she’d done. Miss Carter alone managed to reveal a touch of compassion.
Their silent accusations were unfounded. Their compassion unnecessary. She knew right from wrong. Even more, she knew what she wanted from life, and that was a home and security such as she’d known when Father was alive. Which Abe could give her. She drew herself up as tall as she could. Her voice rang with pride. “You judge me to be a silly young woman. I should think you would know better. You all know me well enough to know I always do what is right.”
Mr. Sharp handed her the basket of things she’d ordered. She took it and faced the women again.
“I not only do what is right, as you all know, I do what is wise. Come along, Robbie.” Her head high, she marched from the store, thankful that Robbie followed without making a fuss.
The women waited until the screen door slapped shut, then they all began to speak at once.
Sally couldn’t make out what they said, but she heard the surprise in the collective chatter.
“What did they mean?” Robbie asked.
She’d hoped he hadn’t heard or hadn’t listened. “About what?”
“They said bad things about Linc, didn’t they? He’s not a bad man. He’s a nice man.”
“They were talking about a different time.” But not about different people. She would do well to keep it in mind.
But who was Linc? She tended to side with Robbie. He seemed like a good, kind man. He’d returned to make sure his father was comfortable in his final days, even though he likely knew the kind of reception he would receive.
Or was she being naive? Choosing to see only what she wanted to see?
They were almost back. Linc continued to paint the fence. As they drew near, he stood and wiped his hands on a rag. “I’ll take that.” He grabbed the basket and carried it to the kitchen table.
“They were talking about you,” Robbie said.
Linc shot Sally a look ripe with regret. “Looks like a great candy stick.”
Sally realized she’d forgotten to buy herself one.
“Yup.” Robbie sucked on it. “Why did they say bad things?”
“Did they?”
Robbie took the candy from his mouth. “I couldn’t understand what they said, but they did this.” He puckered his mouth and looked cross. “I know what that means.”
Linc chuckled. “I guess you probably do. But seeing as I didn’t do anything naughty, you must have heard them wrong.”
Robbie studied him a moment longer then, seemingly satisfied, wandered out to the fort under construction.
Sally watched him cross the yard, all the time aware of Linc studying her.
“So the opinion of the good folk of Golden Prairie hasn’t changed?” His words were low, as if resigned to the inevitable.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t pull her gaze from watching out the window.
“What do you think?”
His question, so direct, so void of emotion, jarred her from trying to maintain disinterest. She jerked her gaze to him and saw something in his eyes that said he wasn’t as uncaring as he tried to portray.
