by Judith Pella
TWENTY-FOUR
The house was unusually quiet when Maggie stepped inside. She wasn’t certain she wanted to be alone right now; however, she knew she didn’t want to answer questions, either. She’d had a nice talk with her mother the other day, but something told her that what had happened in town was not a matter she’d be able to discuss with Mama. She didn’t know how Mama would react to the fact that Evan Parker was in love with her. He was Florence Parker’s son. It would not sit well. Neither would Maggie’s confused thoughts about the confession.
“Anyone home?” she called.
“Just me,” came Grandma’s voice.
Maggie felt as if she’d been given a reprieve, as if a prayer she hadn’t even spoken had been answered.
Grandma was sitting at the table, sewing in her hands. Maggie caught a brief glimpse of her work before she folded the piece with the design inside and laid it on her lap. She thought she saw a flash of red-and-yellow material. There might be a reason her grandmother was being secretive about it, so she said nothing, despite her curiosity. Perhaps this was a wedding quilt for Ellie.
Maggie sat in a chair adjacent to Grandma. “Where’s Mama?”
“She and Ellie went to help Mrs. Wallard and Kendra with some sewing.”
That reminded Maggie of the package she had laid on the table. “I guess I’m too late with this.”
“What’s that?”
Maggie tore away the string and opened the paper. “I got some yardage for a dress, you know, for Boyd’s wedding. I should have gotten it sooner, I guess.”
“It’s very pretty. I didn’t know you liked pink.”
Evan had said she would look stunning in that color. Even now, hours later and with all that had happened since, a color to match the dress goods still rose up her neck at the thought of Evan’s compliment.
“It certainly does bring out the roses in your cheeks,” Grandma said dryly, a twinkle in her eye.
Maggie clasped her hands against her cheeks, though it was too late to hide her reaction. “I was just told I would . . . ah . . . look nice in this color, that’s all,” she said defensively.
“And I think you will.” Grandma fingered the fabric. “Your mother is going to be busy these next couple of weeks. Why don’t I sew a dress for you?”
“Oh, would you, Grandma?” Maggie couldn’t have been more pleased. Though Mama was an excellent seamstress, Grandma was even better. She would make a dress as beautiful as any in Godey’s Lady’s Book. In fact she would be able to look at a picture from the magazine and reproduce the dress exactly.
“I’d be happy to. We can look at some pictures right now and figure out what you’d like.”
The prospect of the new dress had lifted Maggie’s spirits momentarily, but the events of the day still weighed on her too heavily for her to be much good at choosing dress designs.
“Maybe later, but thank you very much,” Maggie said. “I better go up and change. It’s going to be milking time soon.” But she made no move to go. Instead she ran her hand over the fabric that Evan had liked. He’d been so kind to her, protective and decent, and she had repaid him terribly, first yelling at him, then not speaking for two whole hours! He must surely hate her now.
But he’d said he loved her. Loved! No, it couldn’t be. She must have heard wrong. Loved? Could it be?
“Maggie, dear, is everything all right?” asked Grandma.
Maggie had almost forgotten Grandma was there. Maggie gave a big sigh. “I didn’t have such a great day in town. Nothing is going as I planned.” Spying her sewing basket in the corner where she kept it, she jumped up, grabbed the handle, and brought it back to the table. She had six blocks done for her sampler. She lifted them lovingly from the basket. “Grandma, would you feel awfully bad if all this work was for nothing?”
“Me? It is your work, Maggie. My joy in teaching you is there no matter what.” Grandma paused, running a finger thoughtfully across her lips. She studied Maggie a long moment. The creases between her brows were drawn and deep. Finally she spoke. “Tell me what happened in town, dear.”
“The worst is that I am going to have to testify against Tommy,” Maggie replied. “And there’s nothing that can be done about that. Maybe there’s nothing to be done about the other thing, either.” She dropped the blocks into the basket and plopped back into her chair. “It is hard to give up something that has been so important for so many years. That’s what I should have told Evan. That’s why I was really angry and why I couldn’t talk about it. But why is it hard to give up something I’m not even sure I want anymore?” She was hardly aware of her grandmother now and was simply debating with herself. Grandma must have realized that. She only sat and nodded with encouragement. “But it was like I was seeing Colby for the first time—and I didn’t like what I saw. Sure Evan called Colby a couple of names, too, but I could see he didn’t mean them. The things Colby called Evan, though, were just plain cruel. And I could tell he meant to hurt Evan with them. He just wasn’t nice. And he didn’t have to hit Evan so hard! He nearly knocked his teeth loose! It wasn’t called for. Poor Evan couldn’t even land one good punch. All Colby had to do was walk away. But, no, he knocked Evan senseless—”
“Is Evan all right?” Grandma cut in with concern.
“I think he lost a tooth. And his jaw looks like he has a real apple in his cheeks. His spectacles were crushed—oh, my goodness! I forgot he couldn’t see. I let him drive home alone!” Agitated and worried, she started to rise. What could she do now? She could saddle a horse and ride after him and see that he got home okay.
Grandma laid a hand on Maggie’s arm. “I’m sure the horses will get him home safely. They have made the trip between the two houses often enough lately.”
“They probably won’t come back here again!” she declared glumly.
“Sounds like that bothers you more than what you learned about Colby?” There went Grandma with her questions!
“It all bothers me!” Maggie exclaimed. “Did I want Colby all these years without really knowing him? What did I see in him?”
“He’s a charming, handsome young man. Even my old eyes can see that. How much time did you spend with Colby until now? Or perhaps it is merely that you are measuring him against another and he has come up lacking?”
Maggie gaped at her grandmother. This last comment of hers went beyond her usual questions. It was more like second sight or something. Maggie realized she had often compared Colby to Evan. What she hadn’t realized, or let herself see, was how many times Colby had lost in such comparisons.
“That can’t be, Grandma,” Maggie breathed.
“What can’t be?”
“You know what!” Maggie shook her head in denial. “I simply can’t accept that. He’s a Parker, for heaven’s sake!” Again she gave her head a shake. “This time, Grandma, the answer to all your questions is no. I don’t care how Evan feels.”
“How does Evan feel?”
“Oh no, you don’t, Grandma! No more questions!” She jumped up. “I have to bring in the cows.”
Maggie went upstairs, changed her clothes, and slipped outside without taking any more questions from her grandmother. Then with great force of will she diverted her thoughts from both Colby and Evan. Anyway, she had something far more important to worry about—Tommy’s trial.
Fortunately, the cows knew it was time to come in, and she didn’t have to give them much thought when she brought the two milk cows into the barn. And she certainly didn’t have to think about the milking. So her mind picked away at the problem of the trial. It didn’t take long for her to decide that she had to lie. It would be her word against the deputy’s, if indeed he was the one who had clued Mr. Cranston in on her secret. Not exactly just his word, now that she thought about it. Evan knew. Would Cranston question Evan? Could he question the opposing lawyer? Tommy also knew, but he wouldn’t contradict her.
Lying was her only choice. But she wasn’t very good at lying. Mama might have to
ld her often that she had a cunning way of sidestepping the truth, but that applied only to harmless fibs. This was pretty big. She was intimidated by the sheriff and probably would be by Mr. Cranston, as well. What if she babbled or couldn’t get her story straight?
Perhaps the best approach would be to just say she couldn’t remember. It had been a couple of months. They couldn’t expect her to remember a conversation that far back, could they?
She imagined the scene as she milked Bessie.
“Miss Newcomb, did you have a conversation with Tommy Donnelly regarding his desire to ‘get back’ at his father?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Come now. Surely you would remember when someone threatens their own father.”
“I can’t remember.”
“Your Honor, this girl is obviously lying. She must go to jail!”
Dismayed at her own dismal rendering of the courtroom scene, she yanked too hard on Bessie and was nearly knocked off her stool.
“Sorry, Bessie, but I don’t know what to do! I can’t lie, yet I can’t betray Tommy. And no matter what Evan says, I think when folks hear what Tommy told me, they will think twice about self-defense. What would you do? You and Blackie are close. Would you send her to the slaughterhouse? No, you’d lie to protect her, wouldn’t you? It’s the decent thing to do. Sometimes lying isn’t wrong if it’s done to protect someone. Right?”
Besides Evan, there was only one other person Maggie could talk to about this. But Zack was really busy lately, spending much of the little spare time he had in St. Helens with Reverend Barnett. Even Ellie didn’t see him very much. When Zack had been a fake minister, he had counseled Maggie to keep quiet about what Tommy told her. He probably would have had no problem back then to also agree with her about lying. But now that he was about to become a real minister, would he feel the same?
She knew she was grasping at straws to even ask the question. There would not be a single person, except perhaps Tommy himself, who would counsel her to lie, especially in a court of law where the consequences would be dire. But wasn’t that what friendship was about, making sacrifices for your friend? Wasn’t that called “the greater good” or something? A lie would save a person’s life. That had to be the greater good.
Her head started to ache with these deep musings. She was glad when Georgie came in to help with the chores. He began forking hay into Jock’s and Samo’s stalls.
“Are Mama and Ellie home?” Maggie asked Georgie as she began milking Blackie.
“I didn’t see ’em when I went in to change,” Georgie replied. “Hey, Maggie, next time you see Evan tell him how much I like that hat of his.”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
“You see him a lot more than I do. Tell him that Cissy Fergus thought I looked right natty in it.”
Georgie’s interest in Cissy was certainly persisting. Well, at least Cissy was not at all like her homely, somewhat uncouth sister Iris who, at twenty-two, was probably going to end up an old maid. Cissy was pretty with red curls and freckles. She giggled a lot, though basically she was pleasant company. But Georgie was too young to be so serious about one girl.
She glanced at her brother and was more aware than ever at how grown-up he was becoming. He would soon be fifteen and was as tall as Dad, if not taller. The rigorous farm work was building a muscular physique on him. In a few years he would vie with Colby in good looks. And now she realized Georgie would surpass him where character was concerned, too.
Seeming to prove this observation, Georgie said, “You know, that Evan is a real nice person, not at all like his snooty sister or his mother. Must take after his dad, or maybe it was because he was away from home so much. Are you sweet on him, Mags?”
“What?” Had Grandma put Georgie up to this?
“Well, he’s here a lot. I was just wondering.”
“Of course not!” she said with more force than was needed.
Shrugging, Georgie went about his work, saying no more. Maggie returned her attention to the milking, her thoughts wandering again. She tried to think of the trial, but that went nowhere except to the moral question, which would only be answered when she took the stand at the trial. So, try as she might to concentrate on serious matters, she kept thinking about Evan. She thought of their first meeting when he tripped on the carpet and spilled his punch all over her. She thought of his accidentally letting the chickens out, then grinning as together they chased them down. She thought of his stepping on her toes as she tried to teach him to dance. And of the time he slipped down into the muddy ditch, pulling her after him.
All those thoughts made her smile. Evan made her smile. Not because he was funny and clumsy, but because every time she was with him, she felt happy. Even the time she had felt most miserable about the rumors, he had literally turned cartwheels just to make her smile.
Then she remembered how badly she had treated him today. She felt a sudden impulse to saddle one of the horses and ride to his house right then and there to tell him how sorry she was.
Yet what would be the point? If she could not respond favorably to his words of love, would he want to see her? He’d risked a great deal to say them. He’d risked rejection certainly, when he no doubt still felt the sting of Tamara’s rejection. And he’d risked their friendship. She knew Evan well enough to know he wouldn’t have done so lightly. He’d meant what he’d said.
How could she face him if she did not feel the same way? She cared too much for him to risk breaking his heart, as Tamara had.
TWENTY-FIVE
The courtroom in the St. Helens courthouse was small but seemed even more so now with perhaps a hundred folks crowded in the room. Maggie didn’t know even half the people. She thought many were simply seeking cheap entertainment. Well, the county had no theater, and few acting troupes ever graced the community, so the folks had little else but this kind of amusement. The level of noise and activity in the room resembled a fair more than a serious legal proceeding.
Though Evan had described some court protocol to Maggie, she still felt as though she had entered foreign territory. She thought Dad and Mama felt the same way as they stood beside her at the doorway, hesitant to proceed farther into this strange and forbidding world. There were some familiar faces. Several neighbors who could get away were present, but she suspected most were there to testify, not to be mere spectators. She saw Zack on the other side of the room and waved. Ellie had stayed at home with Grandma and Georgie to do all the chores that could not wait till the end of the trial. Dad, Mama, and Maggie would stay in town for the duration rather than make the arduous drive twice a day for who knew how long. Evan thought two or three days.
The spectator seats were filled to capacity, with many folks standing in the aisles. A railing separated the litigators’ tables and the judge’s bench from the assembly. The first row of seats was almost empty, obviously being saved. Maggie saw that Jane Donnelly was the only one in the row. Just as Maggie wondered if she and her parents could be so bold as to take these vacant seats, the only seats left in the room, Mrs. Donnelly turned and waved for them to join her.
“I saved the seats for you folks,” she said to Mama. “I wanted friends close by.”
“I’m glad you did, Jane,” Mama replied, taking the seat next to Mrs. Donnelly. Dad took the next seat and Maggie the one beside him. “We are here to support you,” Mama added with a caring smile.
Maggie knew that Mrs. Donnelly had no family close by because she and Tom had migrated here twenty years earlier from California. No sisters, no brothers, and no parents—it was almost as if Tom had wanted to drag her away from all her loved ones. But seeing Mama clasping Mrs. Donnelly’s hand, Maggie realized that the horrible man hadn’t been entirely successful. Mama and Mrs. Donnelly were almost as close as sisters.
“I can’t believe so many people have turned out for this,” Dad commented.
“Morbid curiosity,” Mrs. Donnelly said, her lips tightening with her disapprova
l. Naturally she’d be upset that her son should be the object of such a thing, that folks wouldn’t have come if they thought everything was going to turn out happily. Some were probably even hoping the spectacle would culminate in a hanging.
There had never been a legal hanging in the county, and Evan felt strongly that Tommy wouldn’t hang. But he might go to prison, and from what Maggie had learned about the state prison, going there was a fate worse than death. One way or another Tommy’s life hung in the balance here, and she became more and more determined to lie about what Tommy told her.
Soon the attorneys entered the courtroom. Mr. Cranston had a strut to his step. He grinned at the spectators. She had never met the man before the events involving Tommy had occurred and had only known his reputation for being drunken and lazy. But he looked quite in command of himself now. He must realize that winning a trial like this could be a huge boost to his career. Not only was there a reporter from the local newspaper, the Oregon Mist, but someone had said a reporter from the Portland newspaper, the Morning Oregonian, was also present.
Maggie knew Evan had not taken this case out of ambition, but she saw now how winning could favorably affect his future. Maybe it would boost his confidence to the point where he would feel able to return to the law firm in Boston. She knew his mother was pushing him in that direction. Maggie didn’t like this line of thinking. He had to win this trial, yet it made her stomach queasy to think of him leaving.
Evan’s entrance was far more thoughtful than his opponent’s. He looked directly at Mrs. Donnelly and offered her an encouraging smile. Maggie thought he looked pale, more so than his usual city pallor, which had been darkening since he was spending more time outdoors. Though the swelling of his jaw had subsided, an ugly bruise remained. Perhaps that’s what gave his skin such a greenish cast.
