Dejectedly, he turned and headed back outside. There had to be some way to make the mayor believe Gage was the right man.
“Good morning, Mr. Grayson.”
A familiar voice snapped Gage back to awareness and his surroundings. The mayor’s son approached the steps, his smile wide. “Good morning, Mr. Owens.”
The men shook hands then Albert nodded toward the building. “Were you coming from speaking with my father?”
“My original intent was to speak with him, but someone else is currently taking up your father’s morning.”
Albert shrugged. “My father is a picky man. He only wants what is best for Lewiston.”
“I can appreciate that, but I’m not very patient. Then again, I shall have to be if I want to live here.”
Albert laughed. “You’re correct.” He folded his arms. “Did you enjoy yourself at my father’s gathering last night?”
“Yes, I did. Well, after the horrific event, that is.”
“It’s so sad what happened to Doctor Johnson.” He frowned and shook his head. “I haven’t heard whether they’ve captured the killer or not.”
“I pray they have. The shooting rattled many people at the party. In fact, I noticed that Miss St. James left soon after the doctor died.”
“Yes, she did.” Albert scratched his chin. “I feel just terrible that I wasn’t able to see Adella home. The night brought back terrible memories from her past, I fear.”
Curiosity peaked Gage’s interest. What could have possibly happened in her past? She had muttered Buchanan Gang, and now Gage wondered if someone she knew had been killed by the one gang the law couldn’t seem to capture. “Really? How so?”
“Not many people know, but a similar situation happened to her family seven years ago. The Buchanan Gang killed her parents and older brother by burning their house.”
“So who was the man she referred to as her father last night?”
“Mr. St. James. He and his wife have raised Adella and her sisters, and...” He stopped suddenly and color faded from his face.
Strange that Albert would act this way. “Go on,” Gage urged.
“Um...well...you see—” Albert gulped noisily then wiped the cuff of his sleeve across his forehead. “Actually, I don’t have time to explain. I have a meeting, and I must be going.” He nodded then moved toward the courthouse. “I hope you have a good day, Mr. Grayson.”
Odd behavior...
Unease washed over Gage, bringing with it a sense of familiarity. Something wasn’t quite right. In fact, in a way he felt like he’d already lived the story Albert tried hard not to tell him...and it actually happened seven years ago? That was when the Buchanan Gang was in Virginia City and had killed the doctor’s family by burning down their house.
“Oh, before I go—” Albert stopped and turned toward Gage. “Please don’t say anything to Miss St. James. Bringing up this bad memory is not good for her emotional state, and as I’ve mentioned, not many people know about it.”
“I understand.” Although Gage said it, he really didn’t understand. How could he not say anything to Miss St. James now? Back in his mind, he wondered if what happened in her past was the same thing he remembered. Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep quiet just because it wasn’t good for her emotional state. Not knowing wasn’t healthy for Gage’s state of mind, either.
Gage wondered about the mayor’s son as the man scampered into the building as if he couldn’t wait to get away from Gage. The other man’s reaction while telling the story about Miss St. James was quite confusing, too. It was almost like he’d spoken out of turn and was embarrassed. Then again, that’s exactly what happened. Why else would Albert tell Gage not to say anything to Miss St. James?
Gage wouldn’t say anything to the emotionally disturbed woman...yet. What were the odds Miss St. James had lived in Virginia City seven years ago? Gage would definitely delve deeper into the woman’s past to find the truth.
Walking back to collect his horse, he wondered how he could bring up the subject with Duchess. Clearly, she was still put out with him. He could tell by her actions and tone of voice last night. So how could he ask her questions when he knew she wouldn’t respond in a kind manner?
There had to be another way. Perhaps the kids in her class would know. Excitement danced in his head from the mere idea and he almost patted himself on the back for thinking it. Talking to her students was the key to discovering about Miss St. James’ past.
He hurried his step until he retrieved his horse stabled in the livery—already saddled and waiting for him—then he mounted and rode off toward the schoolhouse. A wide grin pulled on the corners of his mouth as he directed the animal. When the little red-brick structure came into view, his heartbeat quickened. Even though he didn’t want to talk to her, he did want to prove to her he was a considerate and kind man. Hopefully, he would be able to talk to a few students before she noticed and put a stop to it.
Nearing the schoolhouse, he slowed his steed. The children were not outside playing as of yet. He took his time stopping the animal before dismounting. Across the street from the schoolhouse was a Blacksmith. Gage led his horse by the reins closer to the barn. This would be a great explanation to why he was so close to the school.
As he tried not to chuckle with anticipation, he tied his horse to a post and went inside the barn. The pang-pang of metal hitting metal being hit rang through the air. Heat from the stove filled the room. The closer he walked to the Blacksmith, the hotter Gage become. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead.
“Good morning,” he greeted.
The middle-aged man with black hair pulled away from his pounding and met Gage’s gaze. The man placed his tools on a bench then stepped closer. “Good morning.”
“I’m new around town, and I was wondering if you had time to look at my horse. I worry that with all the traveling I’ve been doing as of late, I might not be keeping a good eye on my steed’s shoes.”
The Blacksmith swiped his hand over his forehead, flipping back his long hair. “I do have time, but not until after I finish what I’m doing at this moment. I hope you don’t mind waiting.”
“Of course I don’t mind. My horse is already tied outside, so I’ll just take a stroll through town until you’re finished.”
“Good idea.” The man nodded. “What’s your name, stranger?”
“Gage Grayson.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Harry Kimball.” He held up his dirty leather gloves. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but I’d hate to get your clean clothes soiled.”
“I understand.” Gage tipped his hat, turned, and left. Once he stepped outside, he breathed in the spring air, grateful for the small breeze today. How anyone could stand to work in a hot barn all day long was beyond him. He’d grown up working beside his brothers and his Pa outside most of the day on their family’s cattle ranch. Now that was a great way to grow up.
He took a quick glance across the way at the empty yard in front of the school. Hopefully Duchess would let the students out for a break soon. Many questions plagued his mind, and he couldn’t wait to find answers.
As he let his attention wander from the schoolhouse up the street, other structures caught his eyes. A barber shop, a millinery, and beside that a jewelry store. Across the street from that was even a bookstore.
Gage arched an eyebrow. This town was more civilized than he first realized.
Farther up the street, a group of five men with a ladder were stringing a banner from one lamppost to another. Dogwood Festival May 6th. That was only a week away.
Gage scratched his chin. Dogwood...like the dogwood tree? He studied the beautiful colorful blossoms on the trees lining the street. Then again, having a festival to celebrate the dogwood trees wasn’t a bad idea at all.
Out of the corner of his eye, a movement caught his attention. Peeking around the side of the barber shop stood a boy with a rifle. Tattered and dirty clothes hung on his thin frame, and his ratted blond hair h
ad a cowlick on the side, making a lock stand straight up like a turkey’s feathers. His hands clenched the rifle so tight his fingers were white. His gaze directed on the men hanging the banner in the middle of the street.
Curiosity nudged Gage into action. He crept on quiet feet toward the lad. The closer he came, the more recognition struck. This was Jimmy Johnson—the boy whose father was shot and killed last night.
Gage’s heart dropped into his boots. Jimmy was seeking revenge! Gage wasn’t about to let another person get killed.
Jimmy aimed his rifle, but because the men kept moving, the lad lowered the weapon and shifted. He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath then raised the rifle again. Within seconds, he lowered it and shuffled his feet once more. Gage could feel the boy’s frustration, but cold-blooded killing was not the answer.
Thankfully, Jimmy was so preoccupied that he couldn’t hear Gage sneaking up behind him. Almost there... He prayed he could take the weapon from the lad without getting injured in the process.
Jimmy lifted the rifle again. This time, his limbs didn’t quake, and his aim was sure. Gage’s heartbeat stopped. He wasn’t going to get to the lad soon enough, and he quickly said a silent prayer for help.
From behind them toward the schoolhouse, children’s cheerful voices floated in the air. Jimmy must have heard it, because he swung around to peer toward the schoolhouse. The lad saw Gage and his eyes widened. Gage lunged toward the boy and snatched the rifle out of his hands in one smooth movement.
Jimmy’s brows drew together as lines of anger creased his forehead. “Gimme back my gun!”
“Not if you’re going to shoot someone.”
“Of course I am. What do ya think I’m doin’? Rabbit huntin’?”
Jimmy reached for his rifle, but Gage took another step back. “I can’t let you do this.”
Tears formed in the boy’s eyes. “But ya don’t understand. It wasn’t your father who died last night.”
Memories resurfaced with his brother, Matthew, had been shot and killed for no reason other than he’d married the wrong woman. “I do understand your pain. My brother was shot and died a merciless death. But taking another man’s life is not the answer. Let the law judge sentence the killer to hang.”
Jimmy sobbed. “Do ya know how badly I want to see those other men die?”
Gage glanced at the men still hanging the sign. “Are those the men who shot your Pa?”
“I...think so.”
Gage gasped. “You think so? What if they’re not? Then you would have killed an innocent man!”
A tear slipped down the boy’s cheek. “I miss my pa, and I want him to be proud of me.”
“I know you do, but do you honestly believe your pa would approve of this? Would your pa want you to murder a man in cold-blood?”
More tears joined the first. It took only a few seconds of silence before Jimmy shook his head. “No. Pa would not want me to do that.”
Gage exhaled deeply. “What made you think those men were the ones who shot your pa?”
“Because one of the men has the same hair color and has the same build.” He shrugged. “And I recognized his walk earlier.”
“Then hurry to the sheriff’s office and fetch him. Let the sheriff ask the questions and sentence the men. I’ll keep an eye on them while you go.”
Sniffing, Jimmy wiped his nose on the cuff of his sleeve. “It’s that burly redhead in the green shirt. I don’t know his name, but he looks a lot like the one who pulled the trigger.”
Gage nodded. “I won’t let him out of my sight. Now run!”
Jimmy broke into a run, his gangly long legs moving fast. Gage released a pent-up sigh and said a silent prayer, thanking God for His help with putting the right words in Gage’s mouth that could help the boy.
Whispers from nearby had Gage swinging around to see who was there. Several children from school stood in a cluster, watching with wide eyes. Luckily, Miss St. James was not with them.
He smiled and motioned his hand. “Please go back toward the school. All the commotion is over now.”
Most of the children turned back, but one girl wearing a dark pink dress stepped toward him instead of retreating. She had to be in her sixteenth year or in that vicinity, but she had the loveliest brown hair and blue eyes. In fact, her eyes reminded him of the Miss St. James he saw last night at the mayor’s meeting when she was so lovely...and frightened. Inwardly, he scolded himself for even thinking of that irritating woman.
“Excuse me,” the girl said coming closer. “I couldn’t help but hear what you said to Jimmy.”
Gage took a quick glance over his shoulder at the men hanging the banner. Redhead was still amongst them, so Gage turned his focus back on the girl. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
She shook her head. “No, I applaud you for convincing him not to kill that man. Jimmy really is a good person.”
“I’m certain he is. I could tell he struggled with his thoughts.”
“My name is Lydia.” She smiled.
He tipped his hat slightly. “I’m Gage Grayson.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, so you are the man who...um...helped my sister yesterday morning when she fell down the hill.”
Shock splashed through him like a bucket of cold water. “Your sister? Duch...um, Miss St. James is your sister?”
“Yes.”
Now he could see the resemblance and knew why he had thought of Duchess a moment ago. Lydia had a youthful glow about her that made her eyes sparkle. He had yet to see that in Duchess’ eyes—although they did come close when she’d gazed upon Albert last night.
Quickly, he glanced at the men hanging the banner, and redhead was still there. Gage looked back to Lydia. “Well, I can only imagine what your sister told you about our run-in yesterday morning. I’m embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t a very polite person to her.”
She giggled and her cheeks turned a bright pink, confirming to him that Duchess had said something bad. Then again, she had every right. “Lydia, as much as I would like to continue our conversation, I think you had better go back to school. I believe the street is going to liven up here in a bit once Jimmy and the sheriff come.”
She switched her gaze toward the sheriff’s office. The humor on her expression vanished and her eyes widened. “Yes, they are coming right now.” She met Gage’s stare. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” Quickly, she turned and hurried back to the school.
Gage wished he’d had more time to talk to Lydia—to find out about her and Duchess’ past, but, right now he needed to help Jimmy and the sheriff in any way. Keeping the rifle in his hands, he strode toward the redhead—who still hadn’t noticed the lad and the sheriff. Finally, the sheriff called out to the redhead. The man jerked toward the lawman, then in a split-second, broke into a run in the opposite direction. Sheriff and Jimmy trailed behind on quick feet.
Luck was on Gage’s side because the redhead barreled his way. Aiming the rifle at the man, Gage yelled, “Stop or I’ll shoot.”
The redhead pierced Gage with an evil glare, but slowed to a stop and held up his hands in surrender. Gage didn’t move his aim until after the sheriff grasped the redhead’s arm and slapped some iron cuffs on his wrists.
“I’m innocent,” the redhead yelled.
“Harvey Jensen,” the sheriff growled, “your actions are proving otherwise. You are under arrest.” The sheriff yanked the redhead toward the jail.
Jimmy looked at Gage, his misty eyes glazed with appreciation. Without a word, he nodded and took the rifle away from Gage, then followed the sheriff.
Gage smiled, happy to have been able to assist in some way and very thankful another man hadn’t been killed. Unfortunately, it had not been that easy to find his own brother’s killer.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Gage turned toward the Blacksmith shop, wondering if his horse was ready. Immediately, his gaze pulled toward the schoolhouse. All the children stood watching him once again, but this t
ime their teacher was with them. Wearing a pretty blue dress, she’d fixed her hair in the tight, schoolmarm bun she had it in the first time they met. Instead of the judgmental expression she’d always had whenever he looked upon her, surprise registered on her face through her wide, amazing eyes. Slowly, her mouth stretched into a grin.
For a moment, happiness filled his chest. Perhaps he had convinced her he wasn’t a bad person after all. He touched the brim of his hat and gave her a mock bow, smiling.
Suddenly, her smile faded as her face hardened. Lifting her stubborn chin, she walked into the school. Sadness crept inside his heart. It appeared as if the duchess would never change her mind about him, so perhaps speaking with her students wasn’t a wise idea after all.
Shrugging, he headed toward the Blacksmith, but from up the street, his name was called. He stopped and turned to see who was trying to get his attention. Mayor Owens hustled his way, waving an arm.
Gage motioned a greeting back, and hurried to meet the older man. He hoped he would hear some word today. Now would be even better.
“Mr. Grayson, I’m glad I saw you,” the mayor said breathlessly.
“I’m happy to know you were looking for me.” Gage grinned.
“Well, I have had time to think about whom to sell my piece of land to, and I have come to a decision.”
Finally! Gage held his breath, hoping to hear good news.
“Mr. Grayson, you come from a good, respectable family, and you seem like a genuinely nice man, but I have decided to sell my land to someone else. I’m sure you will find another piece of land in another town.” He held out his right hand to shake.
Defeat was a hard emotion to swallow—and it even tasted bitter—but Gage shook the mayor’s hand. “I appreciate your time, nonetheless. You have a beautiful town here, and I’m sure anyone would be lucky to live in it.”
The mayor nodded once, then turned and walked away.
An ache grew in the middle of Gage’s forehead, pounding faster with each beat of his heart. Why had he felt that the mayor would give the land to him? After meeting the man yesterday and visiting with him at the gathering last night, Gage thought for sure he had it. So what had caused the mayor to change his mind?
Reach for Heaven Page 5
