The Way Home (23 page)

She was talking as she walked into the living room, seemingly oblivious to the thick silence she encountered. “You’ve been gone so long and I — Oh!” Her gaze fell on Meg and she broke off in midsentence, her small mouth forming a little round O of surprise. Her eyes widened as she took in the condition of Meg’s face. The swelling along her jaw had gone down, but the scratch on her cheek was still an angry red streak across her pale skin and there was no concealing the fact that she had a black eye.

“Oh, my!” There was shocked delight in the exclamation. Here was a juicy piece of gossip if ever she’d seen one. Not that she was one to gossip, of course, but telling her three dearest friends wasn’t the same thing at all. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked hopefully.

“Not at all,” Helen said, rising to greet her. “How are you, Edwina?”

“I’m fine.” The two women bumped cheeks. “How was your trip?” Edwina’s eyes darted around the room’s occupants, taking in Meg’s huddled misery, the palpable anger that surrounded Ty, and the fine lines of tension in her friend’s face.

“We had a lovely trip,” Helen said, as calm as if they were chatting over a cup of tea. “I hope we can have a nice chat later.” She took Edwina’s arm and began herding her toward the door.

“Well, I certainly didn’t mean to come at a bad time,” Edwina said, throwing a longing look over her shoulder.

“Not at all, my dear. But I would like to unpack and freshen up.” There was iron under the polite tone and Edwina sighed, recognizing defeat.

“Of course. But you must tell me everything.” Clearly, “everything” included the interesting little tableau in the McKendricks‘ living room.

“Of course.” Helen had managed to get her almost into the entryway when the front door opened again. This time it was Jack who walked in unannounced.

“The door was open so I came in,” he said as he entered the living room.

“Seems like we’re getting quite a little gathering,” Elliot commented, speaking to no one in particular.

“I think it’s going to get even larger,” Jack said, throwing Ty a worried look. “I passed Sheriff Marlon on the way here and he had Harlan Davis with him.”

Jack’s announcement left silence in its wake, a silence Edwina Vanderbilt was more than happy to break.

“Whatever would Sheriff Marlon being doing coming here?” she questioned. With a deft move at odds with her size, she slipped away from her hostess’s grasp and came further into the living room. “And why is he bringing Mr. Davis with him?”

She fixed a bright-eyed look on Meg, not even troubling to conceal her curiosity. With a sound that approached a moan, Helen McKendrick lifted her hands, whether in prayer or simply to say that she gave up, Meg wasn’t sure. Elliot continued to puff his pipe, though his dark brows drew together in a worried frown. Ty said nothing, but a muscle began to tick in his jaw.

As for Meg, she wasn’t sure what she felt. In the last forty-eight hours, she’d been dealt a number of blows, both physical and emotional. There was, she realized, a limit to the amount of pain and fear an individual could absorb. She’d reached that limit. The news of her stepfather’s imminent arrival caused only a sluggish stir of alarm.

She leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes, wanting nothing so much as to crawl in a dark hole somewhere and lie there until the world returned to normal. Only she wasn’t even sure she knew what normal was anymore, she thought wearily.

“Don’t worry.” She felt Ty take her hand, his fingers tense around hers. She opened her eyes to look at him. She thought that perhaps a soldier facing a battle he knew he was fated to lose might look much the same. “Don’t worry,” he said again.

She wanted to tell him that she’d gone beyond worry to a not unpleasant feeling of numb acceptance, but before she could say anything, the doorbell rang.

“Well, at least
some
people still ring the bell,” Helen said tartly.

“I’ll get it.” Ty squeezed Meg’s hand one last time before getting up to answer the door.

“Hello, Sheriff.”

“Tyler.” Ben Marlon touched the brim of his khaki hat. His expression was pleasant but official enough to make it clear that while he might be a friend of the family, he was here on business. He was a large man, with the kind of build that people always said came of having big bones. He was nearly sixty and had constituted Regret’s only law enforcement for as long as Ty could remember. “I need to talk to you.”

“I guessed as much.” Ty looked past him to where Harlan Davis stood. He felt a certain satisfaction at the way the smaller man paled when their eyes met. And a definite regret that he hadn’t buried his fist in Davis’s mouth.

“You think we could continue this inside?” the sheriff asked. “It’s a bit chilly out here. Besides, I never did like conducting official business in full view of God and anybody else who happens to be looking.”

Ty’s hesitation was imperceptible. The last thing he wanted was to let Davis into the house. He didn’t want the man within fifty feet of Meg. But he didn’t think the sheriff would agree to letting Harlan stand on the porch. He stepped back without a word.

“Thank you, Ty.” Ben stepped inside, reaching up to doff his hat and tuck it under one arm. Ty was pleased to note that Davis nearly sidled through the door, attempting to keep as much distance between them as possible.

Since there was no way to avoid it, Ty led the way into the living room. While the necessary courtesies were being observed, he crossed the room to stand next to Meg, who was still huddled in one corner of the sofa. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see her trembling at the sight of her stepfather, but he could see no reaction at all.

“Well, now, I guess we might as well get to the point of all this,” Ben said, having greeted Ty’s parents and Edwina Vanderbilt, who’d planted herself in a chair with an expression that said it would take considerable effort to persuade her to leave. He nodded to Jack and glanced at Meg, who hadn’t lifted her head since he’d entered the room. He settled his attention on Ty.

“Mr. Davis here, he claims that you threatened to kill him, Tyler. Said you came into the hotel yesterday and, without any provocation whatsoever, threatened to do him bodily injury. Says he can produce witnesses who’ll say the same. Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Helen said sharply. “Tyler wouldn’t do any such thing and you know it!”

“I’ve got to hear it from Ty, Mrs. McKendrick,” Ben said, his smile holding both apology and determination. “Ty?”

“I told him I’d kill him if he came near Meg,” Ty admitted slowly.

“Well, of course, it’s one of those things one says but doesn’t really mean,” Helen said quickly. “If the police were called out every time someone threatened to kill someone, they wouldn’t have any time for catching real criminals. Which is exactly what you should be doing right now, Ben Marlon. Not standing in my living room questioning my son as if he were a common thief!”

“I’m sorry to intrude, Mrs. McKendrick. If you’d rather, I could ask Ty to come down to the courthouse and we could settle it all down there,” he suggested gently.

Under other circumstances, Ty would have been hard pressed not to laugh out loud at seeing his mother so neatly silenced. At the mention of the courthouse, she blanched, the color draining from her face, leaving two neat spots of rouge standing on her cheeks. Ty knew, as if he could read her mind, the picture she’d immediately conjured: Ben Marlon leading him into the courthouse in handcuffs while the entire town looked on.

“That’s quite all right, Sheriff,” she said in a weak tone. “I’m sure this can all be settled here.”

“I hope so.” He turned back to Ty. “You want to tell me why you felt the need to threaten to kill Harlan Davis if he came near his own stepdaughter?”

“Because he beat her.”

“j
Beat
her?” Ben’s shaggy eyebrows rose as if to chase his receding hairline. “That’s a pretty serious word, Ty. I know you and the Harper girl have been real friendly this summer and I can understand you getting a mite upset about someone lay in’ a hand on her, but a man’s got a right to run his family as he sees fit and — “

His voice trailed off as Meg lifted her head and looked at him. Where she was sitting, weak sunshine spilled through a nearby window to illuminate her bruised face. Ty had had nearly two days to get used to it, and it was still a shock each time he looked at her. Clearly it had an even stronger impact on Ben Marlon. He stared at her for a moment, his face tightening, and then he turned to fix a steely gaze on Harlan Davis.

“I didn’t hurt the girl,” Davis said, stumbling in his haste to get the denial out. “She fell and did that to her eye. She’s lying if she says I ever laid a hand on her.”

Hearing Davis deny what he’d done when the evidence of his brutality was plain for everyone to see fanned Ty’s smoldering anger to a red-hot blaze. He heard a low growl and was surprised to realize that it came from him.

“Ty.” Jack’s low-voiced warning stopped him from doing what every instinct urged, which was wrapping his hands around Davis’s throat and choking the life from him, to hell with whoever was watching.

With an effort, he stayed where he was. It wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he lost his temper. The important thing was to take care of Meg, not to satisfy his need for revenge. It was his fault Davis was here at all. If he hadn’t gone to see him yesterday, hadn’t humiliated him … But he had and now all he could do was try to deal with the consequences.

“It must have been quite a door to do that kind of damage,” Ben was saying. He loomed over the smaller man but Davis didn’t back down.

“It was a door and you can’t prove different.”

“Apparently the girl says otherwise,” Ben pointed out.

“She’s lying. She’s done it before.” Seeing no change in the sheriff’s ominous expression, he abandoned that line of defense. “It doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not. Long as she’s a minor, she’s in my charge. I don’t care what you think I did. I want McKendrick arrested and I want my stepdaughter back home where she belongs.”

Ty felt Meg shudder and he put his hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her, though God knew he’d precious little reassurance to offer.

“Well, now, as far as arresting Ty, I wouldn’t feel right about doing that. Like his mama pointed out, people say a lot of things they don’t mean when they’re all in a lather. I’d feel pretty silly arresting him.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Of course, if he actually was to kill you, then that’d be another story altogether,” he said, seeming to consider the point. “I reckon I’d have to arrest him then.”

Jack’s snorted laughter was drowned out by Harlan’s gabbled protest, which the sheriff ignored.

“However, as far as Miss Harper going home …” He paused and shook his head regretfully. “I’m afraid I’d have to agree that Davis has the right of it. Until she’s eighteen or married, the law says she belongs at home.”

“You’d send her back there after what he did to her?” Ty protested.

“Not me, son. But the law says a minor belongs with her folks.”

“What does the law say about this kind of abuse?” he demanded, gesturing to Meg’s bruised face.

“You’d have to go to court to do anything about that,” Ben said. His look was regretful but firm. “I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying that’s the way it is.”

“Well, she’s not going back there. That’s all there is to it.”

“Now, son, I sympathize with how you feel, but the law is the law.” Seeing the set of Ty’s jaw, he sighed. “I’ll tell you what, how about if I promise to keep an eye on her? And if there’s any more trouble, she can come direct to me and I’ll deal with it.” The look he turned on Harlan Davis said he wouldn’t be averse to “dealing” with him. “How about that, Meg?” he asked kindly.

“I … That’s very kind of you, Sheriff,” she whispered without lifting her eyes from her lap.

But Ty knew she wouldn’t go to the sheriff, not for the kind of abuse Davis might deal out; not after the way she’d begged him not to tell anyone what had happened, that she couldn’t bear the shame if anyone were to find out the truth. If he told Ben what had really happened, the sheriff would come down on their side and Meg would be safe.

But she’d never forgive him. And if he was willing to risk that, he still wasn’t sure it was the best thing for her. Even if he kept her away from Harlan, what was she going to do? Where was she going to live?

“Actually, there’s a very good reason Meg can’t go home, one I haven’t mentioned yet.”

“Ty, no!” Meg’s protest was horrified. Obviously she thought he was going to tell them that Davis had tried to rape her.

“It’s all right, honey. We’re going to have to tell them sooner or later.”

“Tell us what?” That was his mother, sounding impatient. “I don’t see how anything you say can change the facts, Tyler. The law says she belongs with her people, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Ty, please,” Meg whispered.

He gave her shoulder a playful squeeze and laughed, wondering if anyone else heard the strained sound of it, wondering if he’d lost his mind to be doing what he was about to do; unable to see any other way.

“There’s really no question of her going anywhere with anyone but me, actually. You see, Meg and I were married yesterday.”