Bachelor's Puzzle (27 page)

“Don’t even think such a thing!” Ada said. “We are friends.” They both knew that was enough, that Jane would do the same for Ada. “Now, dear, I’m’m going to go upstairs and get a bed ready for you. You must be exhausted.”

“I couldn’t sleep until I know Tommy is all right.”

“I’ll wake you the minute Tommy comes,” Ada said with confidence, though she feared the boy wasn’t going to show up anytime soon. If there had been an accident, he might be afraid to come forth. She didn’t want to think of all the other possibilities.

Seeing that Calvin was feeling even more awkward than she, Ada suggested that he fix another pot of tea, and she went upstairs. She found all the children in the girls’ room sitting quietly on the bed.I t was a remarkable sight, for normally all four together meant a lot of bouncing, bickering, laughter, and noise.I t showed Ada just how mature they were becoming, even Georgie.

“Jane is going to spend the night with us,” Ada said. “Girls, she’ll take your room since it is probably the cleanest. We’ll make up a bed for you in with the boys.”

“I’ll take care of it, Mama,” Ellie said.

“Mama,” Maggie said, “Boyd thinks Tommy shot his dad. Is that true?”

Ada had forgotten that Boyd had been at the scene of the incident. She thought that might be what Calvin was thinking, as well, considering his reticence.

“We don’t know for sure,” Ada said with a glance at Boyd.

“Mama, we found Tom in a clearing just west of Asher’s Pond,” Boyd said. “Dad and I have gone there before to hunt pheasant. I t looked like at least two men had been there, and they’d been drinking. The jug of moonshine was nearly empty.I t could have been an accident, but if Tom fell where he was shot, he was out in the open, not obscured by trees or anything.”

“Of course it was an accident,” Ada said.I t was monstrous to even consider any other possibility, though, indeed she had.

“Are you gonna call for the sheriff?” Georgie asked.

“Dad told me he would go into St. Helens in the morning,” Boyd said.

Maintown had no sheriff or constable of its own. There simply wasn’t enough need to support one. Just as there were no elected officials.If leadership was called for, it usually fell to a handful of the leading men—Calvin, Nathan Parker, and Albert Stoddard, for the most part.

“Children,” said Ada, “whatever you do, don’t repeat any of this to anyone. Not only could it be hurtful to Jane, but it could start unfounded rumors. And we don’t want that.”

“Rumors are gonna fly,” Maggie said, “no matter what we do.”

“Just as long as they don’t come from our lips,” Ada warned, with a brow arched pointedly toward Maggie.

“I just want to know the truth.I want to know that Tommy is okay,” Maggie said.

“That is what we all want,” Ada agreed. “Now, let’s get this room ready. I fear we will have a long night ahead of us.”

That prediction turned out to be right, for even as Ada came back downstairs from preparing a room, Jane broke down again. Grief was settling in, and almost more devastating was fear for her son. She was certain he was lying dead out there, as well, that the two had been attacked by hooligans or thieves. Ada finally suggested that Calvin go after the pastor. Perhaps he’d know what to do in such a situation. At the very least his presence would be a comfort.

But when Calvin returned with ReverendL ocklin around ten o’clock that night, the minister looked almost as distressed as Jane. Only then did Ada remember the altercation he’d had with Tom Donnelly. Surely he could not feel responsible in any way for the tragedy. More than likely he just felt too inexperienced to deal with something like this. Maybe it had been a mistake to call him.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” the reverend said, in a rote sort of way, not insincerely but as if he was speaking from a litany.

Jane looked at him with surprise. “Pastor, you didn’t have to come.”

“Of course I did.I want to help you in any way I can.”

“Can you pray with me?”

He looked around at Calvin and Ada, almost desperately, before answering. “Yes, let’s pray.” He paused. “Dear L ord, be with Jane in this time of her grief and comfort her and . . . ah . . . strengthen her.” He fumbled over similar ground for a few more minutes until he finally said, “Amen.”

Ada realized she had never really heard Reverend L ocklin pray an impromptu prayer. The prayers he prayed in church were far smoother and more practiced than the one he’d uttered just now, as if carefully written out beforehand. She had not given it much thought until now. She found it a bit perplexing that she hadn’t noticed, but she’d personally had no call to request individual prayer from the pastor, and he certainly had not offered it.

He stayed for about a half hour and then left. He was no more out the door than Maggie hurried down the stairs and slipped outside. Ada didn’t question her daughter. Perhaps she desired to pray with the pastor, as well. Ada reminded herself that Maggie was one of Tommy Donnelly’s few friends.

TWENTY - THREE

“William!” Maggie called.

Zack had descended the porch steps and was halfway to where his horse was tied to the front post. He cringed inwardly as he heard the familiar voice call that name. He regretted having allowed her to use his given name because he was certain it meant far more to her than merely a name.

Yet he could not very well ignore her, not when he bore the greatest guilt for encouraging her. He turned.

“What is it, Maggie?” he asked with a weary sigh.

She flew lightly down the steps toward him. She was dressed in her usual overalls, with a yellow shirt. Her hair was loose, brown curls bouncing as she jogged to where he stood. Her tanned, freckled skin glowed in the moonlight, her large green eyes luminous. When he realized how he was appreciating her beauty, he chided himself in view of the recent tragedy. But how could he think straight when he was so tired?

“William,I must talk to you,” Maggie said.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” he asked. “It’s awfully late.”

“I have to tell you something because I don’t know what I should do about it.”

“All right,” he replied with a resigned shrug.

Grabbing his hand, she led him to the garden patch.I t was backed with a low stone wall that offered a good place to sit. When he realized this was going to take longer than he thought, he tried to be patient, as a good minister would.

“William,” she began when they were settled on the wall, “first, you’ve got to give me your word you won’t tell anyone what I am about to say.”

Reasonably, he replied, “I can’t do that unless I know what you’re going to say.”

“But you are a minister, so anything I tell you is under some seal of confidentiality.”

“That’s for Catholic priests—”

“No, it’s for ministers, too,” she argued. “I read that somewhere. You can’t tell no one what a person tells you in confidence.”

“Okay, Maggie, if you say so.” What could she possibly tell him that he’d want to repeat? If it was about that kiss, he definitely wanted to keep it quiet.

“Well,I talked to Tommy Donnelly yesterday,” she continued. “He told me his father had been real hard on him about going to church and that he, that is Tommy, wasn’t going to take it anymore. He said that since he saw you beat his father, he was no longer afraid of him. He said next time his father pushed him, he was gonna push back.I’m’m afraid to tell anyone this because if I do, it may make them certain Tommy shot his father.” She paused and took a deep breath. “If the sheriff is called in, do I have to tell him? I know it will just make things worse for Tommy.”

Zack hardly heard a thing after her comment about Tommy saying that after Zack had beat up Tom, Tommy said he was no longer afraid of his father. His stomach lurched, and the first thing that came to his mind burst through his lips.

“Are you saying it’s my fault?” he snapped.

“What? No, of course not. I would never.”

He knew she was telling the truth. I t was his own sense of guilt that made him think of blame. But it wasn’t his fault. How could he be responsible for how some crazy kid interpreted his actions?

“William, you mustn’t for one instant think you had anything to do with what happened. Those two have been at each other’s throats since long before you ever came here.”

Maggie didn’t understand that what she said only heightened Zack’s feelings of guilt. Was it a coincidence that years of Tom’s abusive behavior finally came to this tragic head so shortly after Zack’s fight with him? Even as the case for Zack’s blame seemed to grow stronger, he tried to deny it.

“That’s right,” he said. “No single man can cause events like this.”

“But I fear what I know can cause a lot of trouble,” Maggie said.

Zack made himself focus on her problem rather than his own. “If Tommy killed his father on purpose, Maggie, he needs to face justice.” That’s what a minister would say. Then Zack thought of his own situation. He had accidentally killed a man, yet if he had been caught by the law, he doubted anyone would ever believe it had been accidental. He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that alone would have convicted him. Justice was a fine word. I t just wasn’t always fair. There probably was no conclusive proof whether Tommy had shot his father accidentally or otherwise. But Maggie’s information could easily tip the scale toward guilt, and that could hang the boy who, at seventeen, was old enough to be treated as a man. He might be able to get off by pleading self-defense or even temporary insanity by way of drunkenness. Either way it meant a lot of grief for the boy, not to mention grief for Maggie, who would feel she’d betrayed a friend. And Tommy’s grieving mother didn’t need this, either.

“If Tommy did kill his father,” Maggie said, “he deserved it.”

Zack was tempted to run and have no part in this. The last time he had tried to help someone, namely Tom Donnelly, the man had ended up dead. Maggie was looking up at him with imploring eyes. She needed her minister’s help, and Zack had a funny sense that she needed
his
help, as well. Zack Hartley’s experiences might serve better just now than William L ocklin’s, despite his earlier mistakes.

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” he said finally. “At least not right away. L et’s see how everything shakes out. Tommy might already be long gone and probably better off, too.”

“Will they go looking for him?”

“Not without your bit of information. They’ll just assume, at worst, that he accidentally shot Tom and ran off because he was scared or couldn’t face his mother. They might investigate a little just to make sure it wasn’t some stranger who did it.”

“What if they ask me point-blank?”

“You’ll have to tell them, then. You can’t lie.I t could make you an accessory or something. You can say you didn’t come forward with it earlier because you didn’t think it was important. It was the kind of thing Tommy was always saying. Don’t just blurt it out, either. Make them coax it from you so it looks like you really have forgotten it.”

She arched a brow. “You know, William, for a minister, you sure know how to sidestep the truth.”

Defensively, he said, “You don’t have to take my advice.I t still may be that I led Tommy astray.”

“No you didn’t, William,” she rejoined earnestly. “And I will take your advice.I know you’re right.”

He left the Newcomb place feeling worse than ever, his misery having less to do with his tired, aching body than with a strange queasy feeling in his heart.

Trying hard to attribute that odd sensation to something physical, he hoped some food would help. Mrs. Copeland’s stew, still warming on the back of the stove, was tasty even if a bit dried out. But a bowl of it didn’t help what was beginning to eat away at him. He went up to his room, and the first thing that greeted him after lighting the lamp on the bed table was the quilt, now a bit rumpled from his taking a nap on it earlier. He didn’t want to be reminded that it hadn’t really been meant for him.

Turning sharply away from it, he strode to the desk and sat in the chair so he could take off his boots. There he was met with another unwelcome sight—his sermon for tomorrow’s service. He prepared new sermons for the first and fourth Sundays of the month, which happened to be the Maintown service. This would be the fourth Sunday in July. He realized this was his fourth new sermon since coming here. I t shocked him to realize he’d already developed a routine, a habit, for this life as a minister.I n so many ways he believed he belonged here more than the real William Locklin, the man who had never set foot in Maintown, who had never met the wise Calvin Newcomb or his caring wife or their lovely, sweet daughters. He’d conversed with every citizen, supped with almost all of them. He’d played horseshoes with the men, jested with the children, and charmed the women.

“And don’t forget, Zack,” he told himself sourly, “you also led an impressionable boy to shoot his father.”

Bah! He argued with himself. No one knew exactly what had happened out there in the woods between Tommy and his father.I did what I thought was best. Would William L ocklin have done any better? He was a strapping fellow who might just as well have thrashed Tom Donnelly. Zack tried to ignore the fact that in a large part he hadn’t really been hitting Tom, but rather his own stepfather. He’d had a rage in him William probably wouldn’t have had.

With a sigh that closely resembled a groan, he ran his hands through his hair. He was so tired, that was all. Everything would look better after a good sleep. But there was that sermon before him and the reality that tomorrow, despite the tragedy and even because of it, he would have to give these people a church service. By eleven o’clock tomorrow nearly everyone would know what had happened, and they would want the support and comfort of their pastor, of him. Though everything inside screamed that he was an inept fool who was doing more harm than good, he also knew he could not run out on these people when they needed him most. They needed a minister, and he was all they had.

He’d picked a sermon for tomorrow at random from Markus’s book. Maybe he should change it to something more appropriate to the current situation. However, there was no way he could copy and memorize a new sermon before morning. He’d have to stay with the one he had already started.