Grooms with Honor Series, Books 10-12

by Linda K. Hubalek

  “All right. Now that I’ve calmed down, come to my senses, and accepted my future, can we go back to town? I’m excited to look at the houses now,” Mary asked.

  Kiowa relaxed his shoulders while studying Mary’s sly smile. Mary might have grown up with money, but that didn’t prevent her rough childhood, or keep her from losing her first husband. She’d learned to accept and adapt, and she would again with this latest challenge. And he’d be right by her side this time.

  *

  “What do you think, Burdette?”

  Kiowa watched as mother and daughter eyed the rooms in the house for sale. It didn’t matter that one was in a rolling chair and the other on crutches, they were on a mission to make this house a home.

  The women, including Mary’s mother, Darcie, and her grandmother, Flora Donovan, had quickly dismissed the house on Second Street.

  “I like the large windows in the front room and kitchen,” Burdette answered as her crutches thumped across the wooden floor.

  “Mama? Grandma?” Mary asked the other women in the room.

  Kiowa kept silent, knowing his opinion didn’t matter against these four. And that was all right. He wanted Mary and Burdette to have the house they wanted. Kiowa and Nolie would be fine living in anything, as long as it had a roof. As long as the womenfolk were happy, so would they be.

  Darcie touched the door frame between the living room and kitchen. “The house is only twenty or so years old. The rooms need painting and some cosmetic fixing, but it’s a solid house.”

  Kiowa could tell Darcie was excited her daughter and family might be living just down the street, but she was wise in letting Mary make the decision instead of her pushing it.

  “Plenty of room to add on the back of the house, and even plant some shade trees along the alley,” Flora added her own thoughts. With all of them living back East at some time in their previous lives, they all thought of adding trees whenever possible.

  “Kiowa? Your vote?” Mary turned her chair to see him. He’d been leaning against the far wall of the living room letting the women talk to their heart’s content.

  “Whichever one you and Burdette want. I don’t think Nolie cares.” The boy ran up the stairs when they first walked into the house and still hadn’t come back down. Kiowa could hear Nolie’s footsteps as he explored the empty upstairs. He was probably hanging out of the attic’s front window by now.

  Mary and Burdette looked at each other and broke out in grins. “This house!” they said almost simultaneously.

  Kiowa loved the look of two, no, make that four happy women.

  “The bank is taking care of the house sale for the owners, so I’ll go close the deal. Mary, do you want to go with me now, or do you want to wait here until I get back?”

  Mack had built a temporary ramp to get Mary and her rolling chair up the front porch steps and front door. It was steep enough that a man had to push the chair. Now that they were going to buy the house, Mack would build a long ramp on the side of the house that would end on the side of the porch.

  “Can we pick out room colors now, Mama?” Burdette asked anxiously.

  “I think we’ll still be talking about decorating even after you’re done at the bank, Kiowa. Please come back later.” Mary’s smile and twinkle in her eyes melted Kiowa’s heart.

  Things would work out for their family after all.

  Chapter 12

  Pastor Reagan stopped mid-sentence of his sermon and turned his head to look out the side windows of the church building.

  Because it was a cool morning, the windows and front doors of the building were closed, but Mary could hear something ringing in the distance.

  “Somebody go outside and check! I think it might be the fire bell!” Pastor called to the ushers.

  As soon as the front door was open, the frantic and constant tones of the bell was obvious.

  “It is the fire bell! Get to the station!” yelled the pastor as he jumped down the pulpit steps and tore off his preacher’s coat as he ran for his office door to the side of the sanctuary.

  “I’ve got to go, Mary. Someone will be sure you and Burdette get safely outside,” Kiowa hurriedly told her as he climbed over her chair and ran for the door.

  Mary hated her rolling chair was in the church aisle, blocking the hurried exit of every man who’d been sitting in the pews for the Sunday morning service, but it couldn’t be helped.

  Mary grabbed the back of Nolie’s jacket as he scrambled over her lap.

  “Stay out of the way, Nolie. Only help with the fire if the men in charge direct you too.”

  “Yes, Ma,” was Nolie’s answer as he rushed past with the rest of the congregation pouring out of the church.

  Darcie and Amelia waited in the pew in front of Mary until the crowd was past them.

  “Let’s get you and Burdette out of the church now,” her mother said as they watched the last of the people exit the building.

  Mack had built a ramp over part of the church steps to give Mary access to the church without someone having to lift her and the rolling chair inside. The ramp was narrow though, so Amelia guided the front of the chair down as Darcie pushed from the back, getting Mary down to the boardwalk in only seconds. Burdette went down the steps with her crutches and was walking in front of the rolling chair as they followed the crowd.

  About two years ago a fire station was built to hold fire-fighting equipment, buckets, ladders, and a horse-drawn water wagon. It was manned by volunteers to fight any fire that threatened a structure in town.

  “I wonder who was ringing the bell at the station?” Amelia asked as they walked past the schoolhouse.

  “Who wasn’t in church this morning?” Mary asked, wishing she could run to the fire instead of being carefully rolled to the scene by her mother.

  The Shepards sat toward the back of the right side of the church and had a good view of the congregation. A person could see who was missing because everyone usually sat in the same pew each Sunday.

  “I can’t say I noticed anyone in particular, other than Doctor Pansy wasn’t by Mack, and Edna wasn’t in the Clancy pew,” Darcie answered from behind Mary.

  “It would take someone strong to flip the latch to release the rope to even ring the bell,” Mary answered. It had been a concern to secure the bell to keep children from ringing it as a prank.

  “Why not just run to the church to get help?” Amelia asked as she lifted the handle of the chair to help it get over a bump in the boardwalk.

  “I imagine the person was closer to the bell, and knew it would call people to come, not only from church, but anyone who was at home instead of at the service.”

  “Thankfully, the fire isn’t downtown, and I’m not seeing a big roll of smoke.” At least not from Mary’s seated position.

  Burdette had thumped ahead on her crutches, but now she was headed back toward them at a pace that Mary was sure would cause her to stumble.

  “The blacksmith shop is on fire!” Burdette screamed for Mary to hear before she turned back to get to the blaze.

  “No! No! It can’t burn down! All of Kiowa’s work is in there!” Mary shouted, wishing she could get out of this chair and dash to Kiowa’s side.

  She knew he’d try to get inside to save his jewelry. But what if he couldn’t get back out?

  “Mary! Sit down! You’re going to tip the chair over!” Her mother warned. “We’re almost there.”

  Mary clutched the arms of the chair as both Darcie and Amelia were pushing her chair now since they’d gotten off the Main Street boardwalk and were finishing the distance on the dirt street at the end of the block.

  Most of the women and young children from church were a safe thirty feet from the building watching while the men fought the fire.

  Men and older boys had a bucket brigade going from the livery’s water trough, to the front of the blacksmith shop. The liveryman was pumping the cistern well handle as fast as he could to refill the trough.

  Three men, Ki
owa, Cullen, and Marshal Adam, were throwing water on the blazing doors as fast as the buckets could get to them. Nolie and his classmates were picking up the dropped empty buckets and running them back to the trough to be refilled.

  The two wooden doors of the shop were burned at the bottom, but now it was steam and mud coming from the fire instead of smoke and flames.

  Mary touched her mother’s hand as it squeezed her shoulder.

  “The fire is out, Mary. They saved the building.”

  Mary sighed with relief as Amelia pushed her toward the group standing behind Kiowa. She wanted to be sure Kiowa hadn’t been burned from fighting the fire. As she studied his profile, she could see trickles of sweat tracing through the soot on his face. Black burned holes in his formerly white Sunday shirt meant his trousers and vest were in the same shape. But at least he wasn’t hurt. Mary’s heart squeezed to think she could have lost him if the fire hadn’t been put out and he’d rushed inside to save something.

  Shivers ran down Mary’s back with another thought. By the half-burned wood scraps that had been pushed away from the door, the fire had been intentional. What if someone had started the fire during the night when they were inside sleeping? What if they had set fires under each of the doors and windows? How, in her disabled state would they have gotten out?

  Doctor Pansy left the bucket brigade now that the fire was out and slowly strode to the front of the building. Her clothes were soiled like the rest of them.

  “Marshal, I was the one who rang the fire bell. I was over at Myers overnight, delivering Marie’s first baby. On the way home, I saw the beginning of the fire. Burning lumber scraps were piled up against the doors and the smell of kerosene was strong. I tried to use one of the longer boards to knock the rest away from the doors, but the fire was spreading too quickly.”

  “Glad you thought to ring the bell instead of trying to put it out yourself, Doctor. Good work. You saved the blacksmith shop and anything else the fire might have spread to,” the Marshal praised her. “Did you see anyone around the building as you were walking this way?”

  “No, I’m sorry I didn’t. But after I went to ring the bell and came back here, some of the lumber had been kicked back against the doors,” Doctor Pansy announced.

  “Then I know who started the blaze, because we saw him run from around the front of the building as we raced to the fire,” Kiowa’s voice vibrated with his anger.

  “Who?” Marshal asked as he narrowed his eyes.

  “Herbert Tolbert.”

  Mary gasped at Kiowa’s words. Did the young man deliberately set the fire? Why, knowing it would cause damage and endanger people?

  Chapter 13

  "No! You're not going to have Herbert arrested! He didn't do anything!" Tolbert yelled as he shook his fist in Kiowa's face.

  "Your son piled up wood against the doors and set them on fire! That's arson!" Kiowa shouted back as townspeople gathered around the two of them.

  Luckily, the thick wood of the front double doors of the blacksmith shop were only partially burned at the bottom, but they were singed black all the way to the top of the railing. If the flames had gotten to the edge of the roof overhang, the whole building would have gone up in flames. And the flames haven’t crept inside because the dirt floor around the forge didn’t catch on fire like a lacquered wooden floor would have done.

  But if the fire hadn’t been caught in time, Kiowa would have lost both the building and the contents. And Mary, if she had been inside alone.

  "Maybe someone else just gave you a message that you're not wanted here."

  "What? I'm not wanted here? What gives you the right to say who lives in town? This is a free country, Tolbert." Kiowa hissed back. He wanted to crush his fist into the loudmouth's nose, but that wouldn't help the situation.

  "You're just a low life half-breed, Kiowa," Tolbert said as he jutted out his jaw.

  The gasp of the crowd around them echoed in Kiowa's head and fueled his temper but Tolbert continued as Kiowa stood there in shock.

  "You closed your blacksmith shop anyway, so why stick around? Mary and her kids would be better off without you here, humiliating them with your so-called marriage."

  Tolbert mentioning Mary added heat to Kiowa's anger.

  "What if my wife had been inside the living quarters of the blacksmith shop when Herbert set it on fire? Mary could have died if the fire hadn't been put out in time."

  Kiowa stepped back when Marshal Adam pushed his way between them.

  "That's enough. Tolbert. Where's Herbert? I want to talk to him," the Marshal demanded.

  "No, you don't need to talk to him. He didn't start this fire! It was Kiowa's careless use of the forge and trash around it."

  "The forge is cold since I haven't used it this week, and the fire started with wood scraps stacked on the outside of the building!" Kiowa shot back.

  "Herbert’s home in bed with a stomachache, Marshal. Otherwise he would have been in church like the good son he is,” Tolbert said smugly.

  "We saw Herbert run around the corner of the blacksmith shop when we left the church and saw the fire!" Kiowa yelled in frustration.

  "No, you just want to pin it on Herbert because he..." Tolbert stopped and clamped his lips tight.

  Because his son started a fire about six years ago when he threw a flaming kerosene-soaked rag wrapped around a brick through his father's barbershop window. If Fergus Reagan hadn't heard the plate glass break and ran into the barbershop to kick out the brick, the whole downtown would have burned down. All because the boy wanted to go home to Kentucky and thought if his father's business was gone, then they'd leave. The kid had no sense when he was young, but this prank was downright malicious and vengeful.

  And if Herbert hadn’t thought of setting this fire on his own, his father’s hateful talk probably gave Herbert the idea. Tolbert was always bad-mouthing people in public. Kiowa could imagine what the prejudiced man said at home to his wife and son.

  “Go home and get your son, Tolbert, then meet me back at my office,” Marshal announced.

  “No, I won’t! This is all Kiowa’s fault for thinking he can live here. He needs to go to a reservation!”

  Kiowa stared at the man. How dare he even suggest that.

  “I wasn’t the only person who saw Herbert in front of the smithy when we ran out of the church,” Kiowa assured the Marshal and he looked around, glad that several men nodded in agreement.

  “I saw Herbert too,” Fergus added. “Adam, I’d check for soot and the smell of kerosene on his hands and clothes when you find him.”

  “You’re just siding with Jones because you’re all Indian lovers!” Tolbert accused the Reagan brothers who had moved to stand behind Kiowa.

  Kiowa felt bolstered knowing that Angus, Fergus, Cullen, and Seth had his back. Their help and friendship over the years had meant the world to Kiowa.

  “Marshal!” Everyone turned to look down the street as Mack called out. Mack had Herbert by the back of his shirt and was practically dragging him down the street. The boy fought to get away, but he didn’t have a chance against Mack, who was a tall, muscular man.

  “Let go of my son, Reagan! I’ll sue you for mistreating him!” Tolbert raged as he met the two and tugged on Herbert’s arm.

  Mack kept walking and dragging Herbert until he was next to the Marshal. “I caught Herbert by the chair ramp I built for Mary Jones.”

  “That’s not a crime! Turn him loose!” Tolbert protested.

  “You want to know what Herbert was doing by the ramp? He was using my new lumber for the house construction project to fuel the fire he was starting under the ramp,” Mack growled.

  “Where’s your mother and sister, Nolie?” Kiowa asked as Mack’s words changed his anger to panic. What if they went to the house after leaving the church?

  “We’re right behind you, Kiowa,” Mary answered from the group of women standing around Mary’s chair. “We’re safe.”

  “I assume you got the fi
re out at the house, Mack?” Marshal asked, the calmest man of the group.

  “Yes, but Reuben Shepard stayed there to douse it with water if it flares up,” Mack assured Kiowa.

  “Let go of my boy!” Mrs. Tolbert pushed through the crowd and pounded her fists against Mack’s arm. Mack looked down at the woman as if she was a pesky fly.

  “I caught Herbert red-handed with a can of kerosene and matches, Mrs. Tolbert. And there were two other witnesses too, Reuben Shepard, and my father. We were checking to be sure there weren’t other fires in town and saw Herbert toss the match onto the kerosene-soaked lumber that ignited the fire.”

  Hearing Pastor Reagan had witnessed the fire caused Mrs. Tolbert to sag against her son’s back, but it seemed to make her husband madder.

  “Pastor Reagan would side with his son rather than mine. Maybe Mack started the fire because he wanted the half-breed and his family to leave town too.”

  “Quit talking, Tolbert. You’re adding as much fuel to this hatred fire as your son,” Marshal Adam glared at Tolbert before turning to Herbert.

  “Your father said you stayed home from church because you were sick, Herbert. Obviously, you’re well since you’ve been seen two different places this morning. Did you start these two fires?” Marshal Adam asked point blank.

  “They need to leave town! They’re poison to our society!” Herbert sneered and spat toward Kiowa.

  “Answer my question, Herbert. Did you set those fires at the blacksmith shop and the Jones house on purpose?” the Marshal asked again.

  Herbert’s face bunched up in anger. “Yes, I did, and I’ll do it again until they leave!”

  “Herbert Tolbert, you’re under arrest for arson, stealing lumber, and damaging property,” Marshal’s deadly stare at the young man finally showed how mad the lawman was. “You’re going to jail right now because you confessed your crimes.”

  “No! You’re arresting the wrong person. Kiowa Jones should be locked up for moving into town. Herbert was only trying to get Jones out of Clear Creek!”