The Parson's Christmas Gift (15 page)

“N
ame’s different, Zane. It could be someone else. What do you make of it?”

“It’s her.” He barely recognized his own voice.
What kind of trouble are you in, Journey?

Reed smacked his shoulder. “We don’t know the whole story. What else does it say?”

“Wanted for murder, arson and theft. In the state of Georgia,” Zane read. “There has to be some mistake. She wouldn’t do those things.”

“It’s hard to say what some folks will do under the right circumstances. You have to admit it yourself, Zane, she’s awfully skittish for someone with nothing to hide.”

“But murder? Tell me you think she’s capable of killing someone. Even physically—she’s so small.” He laid the poster on the table but couldn’t tear his attention from it. He didn’t want to remember the gun she’d drawn on him in the barn.

Reed peered out the window, shaking his head. “No. No, I don’t think she’s capable of it. But that’s not the point. She’s a suspect at the very least, and I think it’s best if we bring her in and get this settled.”

“You can’t arrest her. She’s finally starting to trust us.”

Reed read the poster again. “Maybe we have reason to not trust
her.
”

Zane locked a fist in his hair and blew out a heavy breath. “Does it have to be right away? If she were going to run, she would’ve done it before now. She’s stuck in Walten until spring breaks. That gives us time to find out what happened. Besides, it’ll soon be Christmas. I get the feeling she hasn’t had many nice ones.”

The sheriff scratched his mustache. “If she’s convicted of murder, she won’t have any more Christmases, nice or otherwise. But it isn’t her name. And it would explain the connection between her and this Baines fellow. They must be related somehow. Maybe a brother or something. I agree it’s not likely she’ll run for a few months yet.”

“Thanks, Reed. You don’t know what this means to me.” Zane rubbed a hand over his face.

“I expect you don’t know what it means to yourself.”

Zane thought he would elaborate, but Reed turned back to the fire and sat in the closest chair.

Zane stood to go, pulling his muffler around his neck. “I appreciate your help with this. I’ll stop by in the morning on my way out of town.”

Reed looked up, coffee cup midway to his mouth. “You’re leaving now?”

“I already found out more than I wanted to know. I need to turn in early so I can start fresh tomorrow. I have a congregation to get home to.”

“What about Baines? You want me to keep hunting for more on him? It would help to know Journey’s connection to him. Until we know more, we can’t count her out.”

Zane pushed his hair back under his hat. “I’d appreciate it. You’ll wire me if you learn more?”

“Sure enough. But remember, this could have nothing to do with the gold maps,” Reed said.

“I think we’re both too skeptical now for that.” Zane grinned and pulled on his gloves. “But I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, and I’ll be in touch. Pray about it, won’t you? I don’t want to force Baines’s hand, I don’t want my judgment clouded about Journey’s involvement and I don’t want to put the town at risk by holding on to what I know for too long.” What if they were working together?

He pulled on his warm coat. “But, if this man’s claims are true, many people could benefit from the money a mine could generate, even if there’s a fraction of the gold in Walten that’s been found here. It’s going to take more discernment than I have.”

“Deciding when to come in out of the cold takes more discernment than you have,” Reed joked, then sobered. “I’m always praying for you and Walten. I grew up there, you know.”

Zane nodded and moved to the window. “Looks like the wind has picked up.”

“You’ll have a hard ride ahead if you want to miss the next snowfall.”

Zane moved to the door. “Should I head out tonight?”

“I think if you don’t get some sleep you’ll fall off your horse before you hit the trail.” Reed leaned back in his chair. “You’ll make it. It won’t do to take the scenic route, is all.”

“Thanks, Reed. For everything.”

“You stop by in the morning. I’ll have a letter for Aunt Rose.”

“Will do. See you bright and early.” He stepped out into the night. The wind pierced through his heavy coat. Its howl silenced all other sounds around him.

Street fires burned low and at wide intervals, providing little light and even less heat. Zane expected they would soon be smoldered to prevent the risk of spreading to nearby buildings as the night winds picked up.

A noisy shuffle came from the left as he passed a narrow alley. He felt the crack of a heavy board across his back before he could turn. Surprise forced the air from his lungs. He twisted, trying to get away, but only felt himself dragged farther and farther from the dim fires.

A flash of pain at the back of his head, and his feet became useless. Blackness threatened to blow in with the storm, but stones cut into his cheek, rousing him again.

An arm pinned him to the wall. He sensed that his attacker was at least a head taller. The voice that rumbled down to him confirmed it. “If you were as smart a man as you think you are, Pastor, you wouldn’t have been digging around where you have no business.”

He tried to pull his scattered thoughts together, to make sense of it all.

“Come, come, now—has the cat got your tongue?” Another jolt knocked his head into the wall. Something solid pressed against his throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’ll make it real simple, real simple. Let this alone, and stay away from Maura.”

He heard a mumbled response, then realized it was his own.

“All you need to know is your precious Journey isn’t so innocent. Or do you know that already? Stay away from her. Mind your own business, and you stay alive. I’m sure we understand one another,” the voice said. Zane tried again to identify the tone, but the echo resounded in his head, tinny and far away as he spun around into the harsh wall again.

Zane swung out, determined to get away. Reed…Reed could help. One fist found only air, but the other clipped a shoulder—at least, he thought it was a shoulder. The way the light and darkness danced around in his head, he couldn’t tell for sure.

A fist in his gut doubled him over, leaving him unable to recover before a slash of pain cut across his head once more. This time, he fell down through the darkness, into something cold and wet.

Lord,
he prayed. But his thoughts went no further and the darkness consumed him.

J
ourney stared out the window above the kitchen sink and scrubbed furiously at a pot. A cold sliver of ice sank to the pit of her stomach, despite the dishwater that steamed around her. The snow blew white on the horizon, blending with the sheeted clouds in the sky.

Where was Zane? Tucked in somewhere warm, she hoped. She’d been surprised at his sudden decision to make a trip to Virginia City. Even more worrisome was the fact that Hank had left on his business trip the day before him.

She couldn’t bring herself to ask questions. Not knowing for sure was easier. If Hank tried to work another angle, she’d have to tell others of her involvement with him, especially Zane. Could he help? What would Hank do? Best not to think about it.

Miss Rose had insisted on a rare Monday-afternoon trip into town. She seemed her spunky self but a mite quieter than usual. Something had her worried, too. Journey wiped the last plate and stacked it, then grabbed the dishpan to throw out the lukewarm water.

“Oh!”

Miss Rose stood behind her. The mucky water sloshed over the kitchen floor.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just going to get another log for the fire. That wind is blowing right through the cracks.”

“I’ll get it. You should stay bundled up and close to the heat. It’s drafty out here.”

Miss Rose smiled. “I’ll tell Zane you were dutiful in hovering over me in his absence.”

Journey swallowed and bobbed her head, setting the pan of water back into the sink. “It’s the least I can do. Will he be back for Sunday’s service?”

“Oh, yes. He expects to be back Friday evening, late.”

She walked behind Miss Rose, carrying a few extra logs into the sitting room. “I’m sure you’ll be relieved to see him.”

The woman paused, adjusting her shawl over her shoulders.

“Oh, I miss him, but I’m not worried about him. The Lord will watch out for him, and He can do the job much better than I could. I notice your friend Mr. Baines hasn’t been around, either. I hope there’s nothing wrong.”

Journey concentrated on stoking the fire, wanting to protest the use of the word
friend.
But better not to draw more attention to it. “He’s out of town this week.”

Miss Rose settled back in her rocker, adjusting a pillow under her head. “It is a funny coincidence, you meeting up with him again all the way out here.”

Journey swallowed hard and brushed her hands on her apron. “I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll both be back before you know it, itching to be around underfoot.” Miss Rose closed her eyes for a nap.

Journey slipped into the kitchen. She didn’t know which bothered her more, the fact that Miss Rose was probably right or the fact that deep down she didn’t believe it could be that simple.

A blinding white…

Cold. Darkness. Each registered in his mind as separate ideas, but he thought no further than that.

Someone rolled him over. Light stabbed his eyes and he tried to raise both hands to block it but only one responded. Someone lifted him by his coat lapels, and he swung at his attacker. But his feet slipped, unable to support him.

“Zane! What happened?” He knew the voice that echoed in his head. “It’s me, Reed.”

Zane swung his head up and leaned forward, determined to balance himself. The bleary form of Reed Knox swam before him, and he wondered what he was doing.

“Cold out here.” His words slurred together, like his tongue had grown too large for his mouth.

“I know, buddy. Come on, let’s—”

He dropped again into the cold darkness.

He waved to Sarah, sitting by the fireplace. She smiled at him but didn’t say a thing.

Suddenly, fire slithered along the floorboards, creeping up the rockers of her chair, and he darted forward. But as he fought the burning heat, a scream rang out. He looked through the flames to see Journey falling into their grasp.

“Whoa! Whoa, there.”

Zane felt a weight at his shoulder, pinning him down. He gasped when he tried to throw off the heaviness, and pain ripped through his head and side. He opened his eyes and found Reed staring, his eyebrows curled together and mustache scrunched tight. He looked to be in need of a shave, too.

“Do you really look that bad, or is my vision that blurry?” It sounded like someone else’s voice saying his thoughts.

“What kind of fool question is that? I’ve been up all night with you carrying on. Do you remember what happened?”

Zane glanced around the room, having learned not to make any sudden moves. He was in the sheriff’s office; they were looking for something here last night. Wasn’t it last night?

“How long have I been out?”

Reed pulled up a chair and sat. “You kind of roused when I dragged you in here, I think. I found you halfway down the street, half covered in snow in the alley by the bank. If it weren’t that I keep an eye out for Old Petey, I might’ve missed you.”

“Old Petey?”

“Let’s say he’s a regular. He’s sleeping off a drunk in the back right now. He walked in on his own not long after I dragged you in here. How do you feel?” Reed gave him a scrutinizing look.

“Like I ran into a wall.”

“From the looks of it, you did—a couple times. What happened?”

“What time is it?”

“It must be getting close to noon. Why?”

Zane shifted up on the bed, not easy with one arm in a sling. “Last thing I remember, we were looking at wanted posters. Then I woke all trussed up like a turkey.” He managed a smile. “So what’d you do to me?”

“You go around smiling like that in the shape you’re in, folks will think you’ve lost every plum in your pie.”

Zane swung his feet out to the floor and cradled his head in his hand. “Honestly, Reed, I don’t remember. You didn’t hear anything?”

“Lie back down. You wouldn’t be going anywhere now even if you were right as rain. The snowstorm’s raging out there,” Reed said, nodding toward the front windows.

“I guess that’s a no, then?”

Reed shook his head. “I’m just glad I found you when I did. It’s a wonder you didn’t freeze to death.”

Zane eased to his feet, swinging his good arm out as his view got shaky.

“Sit down!”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I need to move around some.”

“I knew I should’ve had the doctor take your pants. That’d keep you in place.”

“You’ll know better next time,” Zane said with a grin. He shuffled to the window, ignoring the stitch in his side. “How long do you reckon this storm will last?”

“Not long. It’s moving fast. But then I don’t imagine you’ll feel much like sitting on a horse for a couple of days, anyway.”

Reed stepped over and set a chair by the window. Zane sank into it, lips curled together. “I’ll have to wire Miss Rose.”

“I figured I’d wait until you roused before I sent word.”

“Good. Don’t tell her anything that will worry her. It’s probably just a thief looking for money.”

Reed laid a heavy hand on Zane’s shoulder. “I’ll tell her you’ll be home sometime next week, and not to worry. She’ll figure the storm delayed you. But we both know this isn’t about robbing a preacher.”

Zane turned back to stare at the driving snow through the windowpane. “Reckon you’re right. Maybe I did get hit harder than I thought, because I’m thinking someone didn’t want me to make it home too fast.”

“Who knew you were coming?”

“Miss Rose, Sam and Abby, Journey…”

Reed looked at him.

Zane leaned back in the chair, trying to ease the ache in his ribs. “It wasn’t Journey.”

“So tell me how you know this.”

“Because,” he said, rubbing his temple with his thumb. “Because it was a deep voice.”

“You remember now?” Reed slid forward on his seat, waiting.

“Not much. Just that the voice was deep and came from above me.”

“Like the voice of God?”

Zane grinned. “Real funny when you’re not the one wearing the sling.”

“Sorry. But we know it was a man taller than you with a deep voice. Strong, too, I’d say, by the looks of you.”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting a fight. Besides, we don’t know what
he
looks like this morning,” Zane said.

“True, but we do know he walked away.” Reed walked over to his desk in the corner of the dim room and opened a drawer. “Anyway, I think I’ll search back a little further in the posters. Where’s Hank from?”

“Georgia. Abby said Journey had lived there, too.”

Reed scratched his mustache with his thumb. “I’ll send a wire and see if anyone’s heard of Baines. It’s worth a try.”

Zane nodded and smothered a yawn. It stretched his ribs too much. “Think it’s time for a nap.”

“Terrible to get old,” Reed said, giving him a hand up.

He stood without help, caught his balance and wavered back to the bed. “I reckon you’re the one who’d know.”