“I love Jeff Hicks, with my whole heart.” Allie blurted this out, hating that Jeff had not heard it from her first, and that she’d to reveal something so personal to a woman who could not understand any emotion that didn’t involve her. “He gives me joy.”
“You promised Daddy you’d take care of me!”
How that statement had once struck fear in Allie’s heart. During his years on this earth and then from his grave, Amos Ford had ruled her with iron edicts. Now, perhaps because the love of her life was in mortal danger, she realized that there were more frightening threats than a dying man’s admonition, and greater sins than abandoning a pledge made under duress. She felt as if the shackles with which her father had bound her all those years ago now fell away.
“I have taken care of you, all of your life and nearly all of mine. I’ve seen you through those hysterical tantrums you faked, and I’ve doted on you and tried in every way to please you and keep you happy. I spoiled you. I’m finished now. For God’s sake, Olivia, you’re twenty years old! It’s time you grew up.” As unaccustomed as Allie was to losing control, it felt wonderful to speak her mind after a lifetime of keeping everything inside for fear of upsetting her sister, or angering her father. The blinders had been stripped from her eyes—Allie realized that Olivia was much stronger that she’d ever guessed.
“You can’t leave me here!”
“I can, and I will.”
As Allie started to step around her sister, Olivia suddenly sank to the floor and her limbs stiffened in the beginning throes of a spell. For just an instant, Allie’s feet froze to the boards, and that old sense of panic washed through her. But then, sanity returned. This wasn’t a spell; it was merely another attempt on Olivia’s part to bring her to heel.
The anger that had begun simmering in Allie on the way home now erupted into a full rage in the wake of her quickly evaporating panic. Uncertain of what possessed her, but glorying in the heat of it, she snatched up a towel that Olivia had left lying on the kitchen table. She bent to shove it into her sister’s clutching fingers.
“While you’re thrashing around down there, make yourself useful and dust the bottom of the wainscoting. Your servant has just quit.”
Olivia’s eyes stopped rolling and she gaped at Allie in startled amazement. “But I—Altheeah! Come back!” Miraculously recovered, she twisted onto her knees and made a frantic grab for Allie’s skirt. “Don’t go! I’m sick. You can’t just walk off when I’m having a spell!”
Allie jerked her hem from her sister’s clinging grasp. “I am doing exactly that.”
It was all so clear to her now. She walked through the kitchen to the hall and climbed the stairs with Olivia thundering up the treads behind her on legs as sound and sure as Allie’s own. When Allie reached her room, she pulled an old carpetbag from beneath her bed. It smelled musty inside. Of course, it would—when had she ever used it? Musty or not, it would have to do. She plucked her silver brush and comb from the dresser and shoved them into the bag. Then, resolutely, she began emptying the drawers.
“What are you doing?” Olivia demanded, wild-haired and pale. She took the underwear that Allie put on the bed and carried it back to the dresser.
“I told you. I’m going.”
“But where? I want to come with you!” Briefly, the two women struggled over a camisole—Allie tried to pull it away from Olivia, and Olivia worked to put it back in its drawer.
With a final yank, Allie captured it and stuffed it into her bag. “Why?”
Olivia wrung her hands and began crying. “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t know how to do anything.” She narrowed her eyes. “You would never teach me about cooking or sewing.”
“That isn’t true, and you know it isn’t. I tried to show you lots of things. You didn’t want to learn. For heaven’s sake, you won’t even make your own tea. All you wanted to make were doll clothes.”
Olivia attacked from a different position. “You stole my mother from me. I never even knew her. Daddy always said you were supposed to be watching her, but you were off wasting time while she went to the barn! It’s only right that you take her place.”
Allie didn’t bother to reply. She couldn’t respond to that accusation, and nothing she said would make any difference to her sister. Allie had lost her mother too that day, and there had been no one who even tried to fill the void. She packed as much as she could carry and closed clasp on the bag while her sister stared at her, goggle-eyed.
“Take me with you!”
“For the last time, Olivia, no! Don’t you see I can’t be with you anymore? I can’t. Not after everything you’ve done, the dummy in the barn, spying on me, bearing false witness against Jeff—”
Desperately, Olivia smoothed back her hair and dragged her sleeve across her streaming eyes. “I’m sorry about everything, Althea, truly I am.”
Allie wanted to believe her. Oh, how she wanted to. But her abrupt switch was so obviously meant to sway her, Allie resisted. “You’re not sorry. Olivia, you need to find out what it means to be a responsible adult. A lot of women your age are already wives and mothers. You can’t go on pretending that you’re twelve years old. At least, I’m not going to help you pretend any longer.” She looked around her bedroom, the one she had slept in since her girlhood, making sure she’d taken everything she would need. “I’m going to get a room at the hotel and wait for Jeff’s trial. You can have the farm and everything on it.” She added, “I’m sure Father would want it that way.”
Olivia’s face crumpled again. “I think you’re just being hateful!”
“No, I’m saving myself. And I’ll do whatever I can to save Jeff.”
Allie turned and walked out to the hallway and down the stairs, wondering what it would be like to have a grown-up relationship with her sister. She supposed that she’d never know.
As she crossed through the parlor and the kitchen again, she glanced at the rooms where she had spent her entire life. Again, Olivia was fast on her heels.
“I’ll fix it so that Jefferson man never sees daylight again,” she shouted after Allie. “They’ll hang him and you’ll be back here. You’ll see!”
Allie tugged on the hem of her light jacket and adjusted her grip on the carpetbag. She was filled with uncertainty and fear for the future. Like Olivia, she’d never been on her own. But she walked away from the house in the waning daylight without once looking back.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“It’s true that Floyd Endicott’s involvement in the vandalism potentially weakens his testimony. But I have spoken with Olivia Ford and I found her to be a charming young lady. Her sweet innocence will make her a credible, sympathetic witness. I think a jury would believe her.”
Jeff stared at Royal Purdy, the nervous, pencil-necked lawyer on the other side of the bars, who spoke so dryly of what would be a life-or-death event for him. Purdy was a shirttail relative of Will Mason’s wife and he looked as if he’d never seen a day of physical labor in his life, or spent more than a minute in the sun. Hardly more than a wet-nosed kid in a boiled shirt, he was pale and slight, with light hair and eyes. Jeff got the impression that this was the lawyer’s first case. He’d agreed to let the young man represent him because his price was right—free. But every minute spent in his company convinced Jeff that he might be better off defending himself.
He took to pacing the limited floor space of his cell. “Olivia Ford could make some people believe that the sun rises in the west, but that wouldn’t make it true.”
“Hmm, well, I’m afraid, Mr. Hicks, that your case doesn’t look very good. There are two people who don’t know each other, both claiming to have seen you sink a pick into Mr. Matthews’ head. Miss Ford even says she saw you carry it to the field.”
“I didn’t kill Cooper Matthews. Hell, I never even saw a pick on that farm. There must be some way to prove that she’s lying.”
Plainly, Royal Purdy believed them as well. “It would be extremely difficult.”
“What are you saying, then, Mr. Purdy? That you’ve changed your mind about representing me?”
“Oh, my, no. Every accused man deserves legal representation, and I’ll do the best I can considering the adverse circumstances. I’ll come to court with you and intercede if the prosecution steps beyond the bounds of its rightful authority.”
Such as organizing a lynching, Jeff thought darkly. Purdy gathered up his papers, none of which appeared to pertain to Jeff’s case, and called for Will to let him out.
Left alone with his thoughts again, Jeff stopped his pacing and rested his forehead on one of the cold iron bars while he considered his situation. He’d been in jail for three days and with each sunset, his hope for deliverance dwindled a little more.
Allie—God, it hurt just to think her name, much less to envision her beautiful face. But he did it anyway, the way a person might keep touching his tongue to an aching tooth.
He closed his eyes. If he was very careful, if he thought only of Allie, he could imagine her without the interference of her bitchy sister, and before the awful morning that had landed him in here. He could see her lying in his arms in the moonlight, her lips trembling slightly just as he bent his head to touch them with his own. He could feel her warm body, smooth and finely made, writhing beneath him, joining his very spirit to hers.
Like it had happened yesterday, he saw her standing in the orchard that afternoon he’d come back from town, the breeze tugging at the strands of her hair while she fed those little birds from her hand. She’d had her back to him and the wind had molded her skirts to her shape, revealing a nicely rounded bottom and slender legs.
He remembered her tending the scratches on his arms when he’d crossed paths with her climbing rose on the front porch. Her touch had been infinitely tender and soothing—he’d wished he could lay his head in her lap while she stroked his hair.
He still wished that.
Allie had tried to visit him every day, and every day he’d refused to see her. Originally, he’d thought that he’d get out of here after the details of the murder had been sorted out, and they could go on about their lives as they’d planned.
Now, he wasn’t nearly as certain. In fact, left alone with this much time on his hands, there was nothing to do but think. And in the thinking, he was reaching some conclusions.
One such conclusion was that he would see Allie the next time she came to visit, if there was a next time. He’d turned her away so often, he wouldn’t blame her for not coming back. But he’d like to look at her one more time.
He had the feeling it might be the last time.
~~*~*~*~~
Allie looked out the window of her hotel room, twisting the corners of her handkerchief into points. Dark clouds gathered in the southern sky. The air was heavy and threatening—rain was coming. It matched her mood.
What a curious experience it had been, staying in the hotel. While checking in, she’d spoken very quietly to draw less attention to herself. Allie was not unaware that a lone woman renting a hotel room might set tongues to wagging. And if the woman was a Ford sister, it was guaranteed. The clerk, however, apparently had no sense of discretion, and had bugled her name in a voice loud enough to carry through the lobby. Every neck in the vicinity had craned in her direction. And when the clerk had turned the register around for her to sign, there had been a space on the page that asked for an address—she’d almost laughed. After all, she really had no address, did she?
The room was surprisingly homey, with pleasing, flowered wallpaper and a desk and chair by the window. She ordered her meals sent up to her room, to avoid the curious stares of other diners at Elmira’s Café, and too, because it seemed so very lonely to eat in a restaurant by herself. Up here, Allie had a view of the street below, which bustled with more activity than she was used to in the pastoral quiet of the farm.
At night, she’d lie in bed and listen to the rowdy voices and clanking piano coming from the Liberal Saloon, down the street. The sounds, though muted by distance and walls, carried easily in the summer darkness. In the morning, shortly after sunup, shopkeepers up and down both sides of the thoroughfare emerged to sweep their stoops and wash the dust from their sidewalks to get ready for the day’s business. It was all much different from the country hush and solitude.
She wasn’t sorry about her decision to leave Olivia and the farm. But the novelties of having no one to answer to, no chores to do, no meals to cook, were luxuries she could scarcely enjoy when the circumstances were so dire. With nothing to do but think and worry, she spent most of her time staving off tears.
Oh, dear God, how she longed for Jeff. She missed him more than she thought it possible to miss another human being.
He had still refused to see her when she went to the sheriff’s office. Although she hadn’t told Will Mason any personal details, she suspected that he knew her interest in Jeff was more than that of a concerned employer. He’d considered her with a searching, empathetic gaze every time he returned from the cell holding Jeff. Oh, Lord, he probably thought she was an unwanted female admirer Jeff wished would just quit pestering him. And maybe that’s how Jeff really felt.
Allie’s stomach clenched at the idea. She didn’t want to flog herself with self-doubts but what else could she think?
I can’t leave you . . . You made me remember what it means to be a man.
Had it really been just a few days ago that he’d held her in his arms and told her that? It had been one thing for him to ignore Olivia’s previous attempts to run him off, but this—God in heaven, this robbed him of his freedom and threatened his very life.
Well, Allie wouldn’t give up. Jeff’s trial was tomorrow—the constitution guaranteed a speedy trial, didn’t it? Judge Cavanaugh and a prosecutor would be here and set up their courtroom in the Liberal Saloon.
She would see him before then. She must.
Testing her fledgling resolve, she turned from the window and went to the washstand to rinse her face. Crying and moping accomplished nothing. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she repinned her hair and pinched a little color into her cheeks. The ugly bruise on her cheekbone had finally faded, and now she just looked white and scared.
Well, she had lived like a victim most of her life, letting herself be carried along by what others thought and said. That was the old Althea Ford. This new woman, Allie Ford, the one who’d left the only home she’d ever known to strike out for an unknown future, wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer again. Until he told her otherwise, Jeff Hicks was still the man who had promised her a better life somewhere else. If he wanted to withdraw his offer, then he would have to tell her so to her face. She put on her jacket and picked up her reticule.
Crossing the room to the door, she gripped the knob and took a deep breath. Then she stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
~~*~*~*~~
“Good afternoon, Sheriff Mason. I would like to see Jeff Hicks, please.” Allie made every effort to keep her eyes off the silver badge on the sheriff’s vest. She made certain her back was straight and her chin parallel with the floor. She would be firm. She would not be denied again.
Will Mason sat at his desk. Until she had so rudely interrupted him, he had apparently been drinking coffee and studying a dog-eared copy of the Oregon Statesman. “Yes, ma’am. You come on with me.” He folded the newspaper with a snap and pulled his big iron key ring from the side drawer of his desk.
Allie felt her jaw drop before she quickly closed her mouth again. Goodness, being firm had worked the first time she tried it. She hadn’t even had to make the carefully worded, polite demand she’d rehearsed in her mind on the walk over here from the hotel. She followed Will to the heavy oak door that separated her from Jeff, thinking that the sheriff’s tall, wide-shouldered stature resembled the hardwood itself. He unlocked the door and without bothering to announce her, he stood back to let her pass.
The first thing that struck her was the profusion of closely
set, vertical bars. Her eyes madly sought Jeff in the small enclosure—he was a big man, he should be easy to spot. But when she saw him sitting on a bunk against the wall, he looked smaller than she remembered, as if he’d physically withdrawn into himself.
She rushed to the cell door. “Jeff!”
He looked up, unfolding his tall form, and came to his side of the bars. Reaching between them, he took her face in his hands. “Oh, God, Allie, honey— Let me look at you.” His fingertips brushed over her mouth and nose and brows, as if he were a blind man. He reached for her hands and held them to his lips, pressing kisses on her knuckles.
This horrible place couldn’t diminish his handsomeness, but he looked as if he rarely slept. Obviously he hadn’t shaved since he’d been here, and Allie made passing note of the blond and brown stubble of his beard. Dark smudges beneath his eyes gave him a hollow look, and his face seemed thinner. To see him this way, caged and vulnerable, was more painful than she’d expected. She wished this iron barrier were not between them so that she could pull his head down to rest on her shoulder and stroke his hair.
“I’ve been here every day. Did you know that? Will Mason told me you wouldn’t see me.”
He laced his fingers with hers. “I know. I wanted to, but—” He gestured at his wretched prison with his free hand. “How could I let you see me in here? Hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes I had on my back when Will brought me in. At least he’s going to loan me a suit for the trial.” Lifting her palm to his cheek, he closed his eyes for an instant. “God, I’ve missed you, Allie. I’ve had a lot of time to think these past few days. There hasn’t been anything else to do. I knew had to see you one more time so I told Will to let you in if you came to visit again.
“If! Of course I came!” She searched his lean face. “Are you eating? Is the sheriff treating you well?”
“I’m all right, honey, I’m all right.” She found no comfort in his words. He didn’t look all right.
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