Not even that dummy she’d found in the
barn.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Never trust happiness.
An old cowboy, who’d broken more bones than
Jeff had years, had told him that once. Jeff had been standing at
the far end of the bar at the Liberal Saloon, doing his best to
find the bottom of his whiskey bottle, when the graying old guy
came in, limping slightly. Jeff had never seen him before, and
never did again. He’d had a wise dignity about him, though, that
made him seem taller than he really was. He’d looked at Jeff
briefly, but long enough to make it seem as if he’d seen into his
head and read his troubles. Standing a respectful distance down the
bar, he’d asked no questions, but ordered a beer and told Jeff
about a cowboy’s existence. It was a good one, but lonely. To stave
off the loneliness, the cowboy had married a beautiful woman and
fathered three fine children. Life had never been better or more
sublime. He’d loved them more than he thought it possible to love.
A man couldn’t have asked for more. Then one winter when the snows
were deep, influenza had taken them all.
Never trust happiness. It’ll double-cross a
man every time.
It had been a good lesson.
Wishing he’d remembered it sooner, Jeff lay
on the stinking mattress in the jail cell and stared at the
water-stained ceiling. It all smelled and looked much worse now
that he was sober, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure how many
hours he’d been here, but he’d watched a rectangle of sunlight
cross the floor and climb the wall.
Happiness, sweet and poignant, had been just
within his reach. He’d closed his fingers around it briefly, held
it to his heart, and sighed with profound relief upon finding
it.
And now . . .
Murder. He’d been arrested for Cooper
Matthews’ murder, and Olivia Ford had arranged it merely by
pointing her finger at Jeff. It had been so simple, so much easier
than all the other stunts she’d pulled up to now. He certainly
didn’t think she’d killed Cooper, but hadn’t it worked out nicely
for her?
Will Mason had told Jeff that Judge Cavanaugh
would come to town in a few days for the trial. Would a jury of
Jeff’s peers believe Olivia? A crazy Ford sister? Yes, possibly,
because it was socially unacceptable to question a lady’s veracity,
even if that lady was spiteful and vindictive. Besides, Jeff had no
allies in Decker Prairie anymore. It had been a long tumble from
his days as sheriff to his status of the town drunk who’d been
prone to sleep in upstanding citizens’ doorways and barns. No one
knew or would care that he’d managed to climb back out of that dark
pit he’d wallowed in for over two years.
Jeff could view it all with a detached
indifference, even a sense of the inevitable, until he thought of
Allie. And he thought of her every other minute. Oh, damn, but she
didn’t deserve this. He’d promised her so much more—hell, he’d even
promised her the moon one night. A man who had nothing to give
could afford to give away the moon, couldn’t he? But stuck in this
cell, his only gift to her now would be heartache.
Just then, he heard the key turn in the main
lock. Will Mason walked in and spoke to him from the other side of
the bars.
“
You have a visitor, Jeff. Althea Ford
wants to see you.”
Jeff didn’t look up, but he closed his hand
into a tight fist on his thigh. He wanted to see her so damned bad,
he had to stop himself from flying to the cell door. But as much as
he yearned for Allie, to touch her hands and look at her beautiful
face, his pride wouldn’t permit it. He didn’t want her to see him
this way. It was a hell of a time for him to develop self-respect.
If it hadn’t been so pathetic, he would have laughed—for years he
hadn’t cared what anyone thought of him or how they saw him.
“
No visitors.” His reply sounded gruff
and low, but it was the only sound he could make with his throat so
tight with emotion.
He felt Will move closer. “You’re in a high
holy mess this time,” he said quietly.
Jeff’s head came up sharply. “It sounds like
you’ve got me tried and convicted already.”
“
No, I don’t. I’m glad to see you sober
and cleaned up. It’ll help you in court. But two eye witnesses are
going to be hard to dispute. You need a lawyer.”
Jeff made a disgusted noise. Standing up, he
paced around the small enclosure with his hands jammed in his back
pockets. “Right, a lawyer. And how will I pay him? With my sterling
reputation in Decker Prairie?” He came to a stop in front of
Will.
The sheriff idly turned the big iron key ring
he held. “I might be able come up with someone who’ll help.”
“
Do you think I killed
Cooper?”
“
It doesn’t matter what I
think.”
“
It matters to me!”
A gaping moment of silence engulfed the small
room before Will answered. “I don’t think you meant to kill
him.”
“
Great,” Jeff snapped sourly. “I guess
I can count on you to give the judge a character
reference.”
“
I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I
said I wish to God I wasn’t the sheriff right now.”
“
Sure, I believe you, Will. Go home to
Caroline tonight and tell her what a lousy day you had! Things look
a lot different from this side of the cage—you should shut yourself
in here sometime and enjoy the view. And while you’re at it, try
picturing old Charlie Acton and his son closing their carpentry
shop for a couple of days to build you a custom-made gallows at the
end of the street.”
Will sighed. “Are you sure about not wanting
to see Miss Althea?” He gave Jeff a speculating look. “She seems
pretty concerned about you.”
Jeff heard the question in Will’s comment,
but he wasn’t willing to reveal personal information. They’d been
friends at one time, he and Will, but things were different now,
about as different as they could get. He shook his head and went
back to the bunk.
“
Do you want me to give her a message
for you?”
“
No, goddamn it! Will, just leave me
be.”
Will nodded, apparently taking no offense,
and turned to leave. With his hand on the big oak door separating
his office from the cell, he said, “Jeff, you might think you’re
alone in this. But you’re not––I promise you that.”
Then he was gone and Jeff flopped down on the
stained mattress, with only his thoughts for company. He might not
want to let Allie see him in jail, but that didn’t stop Jeff from
seeing her. She was vivid in his mind’s eye, as delicate as a bird,
as strong as tempered steel. He pictured her red hair, curling in
tendrils over her creamy skin, like cherries on porcelain, her
blue-gray eyes that seemed to find all the hurting places hiding
inside him and ease the pain. Just to look at her made a day
brighter. Holding her in his arms had brought peace to his spirit,
and a happiness he’d not expected to know again.
The last of the daylight hours passed with
her in his heart, and sunset gave way to purple-shadowed twilight.
He could imagine sitting on a front porch swing, watching the dusk
with a single glass of whiskey on his knee. Allie sat next to him,
holding their baby to her breast. Before them spread acres of
planted fields, tilled with his sweat and love of the land, sowed
with seed and his love for his wife and child.
Jeff rolled over on the on the creaking bunk
to face the wall, and a single sob worked its way up from his
chest. He wished to God that Allie were with him now.
~~*~*~*~~
Allie trudged along the final, dusty quarter
mile to the farm, her feet like lead. Even her skirts felt heavy as
she dragged them with her. She had to pass the ruined field on the
way, still white with salt and dotted with sacking. The crushed and
mangled plants had already begun to dry up. Jeff had been right—not
a single one could be saved.
What a living nightmare this day had been.
How could she have flown to such heights in Jeff’s arms last night,
only to be plunged to the depths of despair today?
Of course, she knew the answer, and it could
be summed up in a single name: Olivia.
Olivia—her sister, her own kin—had sat in
Will Mason’s office and told him that she’d seen Jeff murder Cooper
Matthews with a pick. She’d told the lie with such wide-eyed
innocence, Allie realized how she had been duped all these years.
Olivia was a very accomplished actress. Allie, tight-lipped and
quietly furious, had sent her home while she stayed behind at the
sheriff’s office to visit Jeff.
But then, oh, then, worst of all—Jeff had
refused to see her and her heart had broken. Of course he would
want nothing more to do with her. The Ford family was responsible
for his latest round of torment, from Olivia’s fit at the dinner
table to her accusation of murder.
As Allie approached the house she could hear
Olivia’s piano. The notes were high and sweet and true, as if the
woman playing them had not a care in the world. And no
conscience.
Anger, righteous and throbbing, bubbled to
the surface in Allie. Remembering what Jeff had said this morning,
she repeated it to herself—she couldn’t take this anymore, not for
a minute. Some things were too monstrous to be endured, and Allie
had reached her limit. She would have it out with Olivia as she’d
planned this morning.
Determination gave her new energy and drove
her stride like the pistons in a steam engine. Lifting her skirts
slightly, she marched over the path to the back door, up the steps
and into the kitchen. She reached up to unpin her navy straw
hat.
“
Olivia!”
The melody of Stephen Foster’s “Beautiful
Dreamer” trailed off and the piano fell silent.
“
Olivia, come into the kitchen right
now!”
The swish of taffeta announced her sister’s
approach. She entered the room wearing the same open, innocent look
she’d shown to Will Mason. “Althea—I’m so glad you’re home! Look,
I’ve started our supper.” She pointed to the stove where a pot of
unpeeled, finely chopped potatoes had boiled down to an inedible
brown mush.
Allie now recognized this ruse. Olivia had
used this kind of maneuver over the years, anytime she believed
she’d overstepped her bounds. Exasperated, Allie demanded, “Do you
realize what you have done? The damage you’ve caused?”
“
Oh, dear, I know I’m not very good in
the kitchen. I can start over. I’ll just toss that—”
Allie crushed the straw hat she still held in
her hands, her knuckles white. “Just stop it, Olivia! Stop it right
now! I’m not talking about potatoes or your deliberate
incompetence. Why did you tell Sheriff Mason that horrible lie
about Jeff?”
“
It’s not a lie! I did see him outside
last night, and he was carrying a pick. He went straight to the
field, and he argued with those men.”
“
Those men you paid to salt our
land?”
Olivia lifted her chin. “I did no such thing!
The argument got worse and then he hit one of them in the head with
that pick. I saw it!”
“
Why have you done these horrible
things to me and to Jeff? You’ve lied to me, tricked me, and
practically put a noose around Jeff Hicks’ neck! I want to know why
you would condemn an innocent man.”
“
He killed once, he could do it again.
Anyway, how do you know he’s innocent? Were you with
him?”
The question took Allie aback. “N-no! Of
course not. I just know what kind of man he is.”
Olivia’s childlike face hardened into a
shrewd expression. “Now who’s lying? I saw you last night—you and
him. Together in his bed, all sweaty and breathing hard.”
Allie stared at her sister, overwhelmed by a
vague nauseous feeling. Olivia had always kept odd hours and Allie
had never really known what she did at night. But now, the idea
that she had watched her and Jeff while they— Oh, God, it sickened
her to think about.
Allie finally found enough breath to speak.
“How dare you? That was none of your business!”
“
I even heard him ask you to go away
with him. Everything was fine until he came here, and he wouldn’t
leave. But he’s gone now, and I know he won’t be coming back. So
everything will be fine again, and our lives will go back to the
way they were before.”
Allie could scarcely credit the twisted way
her sister’s mind worked. To think that she actually believed Allie
would be content to return to the prison of catering to her whims,
to have no happiness or contentment or companionship—it staggered
the imagination.
“
Olivia, know this—no matter what
happens, our lives will never be the same as they were before. I
will leave this farm regardless of what happens to Jeff. But if
he’s convicted, God forbid, I’ll leave Decker Prairie and I will
never speak to you again. If you think I’m joking, I swear to you
that I am not.”
“
You would put that—that farmhand ahead
of me?” Olivia put special emphasis on the word, as if it described
the lowest form of life on earth.
“
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.