Carol Ritten Smith (32 page)

“Oh Tom.” She knew, by verifying the signature’s authenticity, she would lose custody of the boys. “What can we do?”

He didn’t know. Oh, that he did. Tom stood. His knees knocked. “Your Honor, I’d like to say something.” His Adam’s apple seemed lodged in his throat. “Judge, the boys have everything they need in Whistle Creek … love, guidance, friends. If they went back to Duggan, they’d have none of that. I couldn’t love Davy more if he were my own son.”

Memories of afternoons spent with Davy came flooding through
. Davy, his little buddy. What would he do without him?
Tom swallowed hard. “And Bill, well, I’ve grown to respect him. He’s got convictions and dreams. He may be only sixteen, but he’s a fine young man.”

Bill blinked at the unexpected compliment. Tom stared straight at him and a bond was forged.

“Sir,” Tom went on, “words on a piece of paper shouldn’t overrule what a person knows in his heart to be right. Please, don’t take — ” His throat constricted and he didn’t know if he could finish. He closed his eyes, concentrating on forcing out the words. “Please don’t take the boys from us.”

Judge Stone stroked and pulled on his long beard in almost the same motion he might use when milking a goat. “That was one fine speech. Mighty fine indeed, and if this were an elocution contest, you’d get a red ribbon. But this is a custody hearing and not even a judge can dispute a will. I grant Mr. Parkerson custody of his two nephews.”

“
No!
” A scream tore through the courtroom, and Beth realized it had come from her.

Davy sobbed against Bill’s shoulder and, half crying himself, Bill consoled him, saying, “It’s all right, Davy. I’ll take care of you.”

Tom felt like he’d been flattened by a forty-ton train. He sat speechless, stunned.

Lanson hastily approached the desk. “Your Honor. Surely — ”

“My decision holds. This case is closed. Court is dismissed.” One final hammer of the gavel and their future was sealed. Judge Stone exited through the side door.

Mead, jubilant with the ruling, danced a little jig over to Beth and snatched the will from her hand. “Too bad,” he flaunted, “but the law is the law.”

Tom jumped up and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. “Listen, you piece of pig manure, you’d better take good care of them. You harm one hair on those boys and I’ll hunt you down and kill you. So help me, I will.” Tom shoved him away, and Mead stumbled backwards.

Parkerson straightened himself and his clothing. “We’ll all go back to Whistle Creek this afternoon, just like one big happy family. I’m giving you until tomorrow to get the boys’ things ready. I think that’s being fair, but I’ll be takin’ them home to Saskatchewan with me on tomorrow’s train.”

• • •

Beth remembered very little of the train ride home, except that she felt like crying the entire way and it was only by sheer will that she hadn’t. But Davy cried, inconsolably, and by the time the train pulled into Whistle Creek, he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

Surprisingly, Parkerson remained at the opposite end of the train car and never once came near them. Beth decided it was because of Tom’s menacing glare thrown at him every time he even glanced their way.

Mary and Earl were waiting at the station, Tom having telegraphed ahead with the dreadful news. From the train station they went directly to Betner’s where Mary had supper waiting. Beth could not recall if she ate or not, nor what was said over dinner, if indeed there was a conversation. Her only thoughts were of tomorrow and how at this very same time, Davy and Bill would be gone, and she’d feel as if half her life had been torn from her.

Immediately following supper, Bill went to say goodbye to Annaleese. Tom and Beth departed soon after, taking a despondent Davy home to bed.

He was put in the guest bedroom again, in the bed that would have been his if things had worked out the way they should have. To Beth he seemed so much smaller this time, fragile almost, shrunk down under the covers so only half of his head poked out.

She sat on the edge, while Tom stood at the headboard, feeling about as useless as the bedpost. “It won’t be nearly as bad this time, Davy.” She fussed with his blankets to avoid looking him in the eye, certain she would burst into tears if she did. “Daisy will have had her calf by now. Remember how you got to bottlefeed the last one? The way he bunted at the bottle and just about knocked you on your behind?” Davy nodded. “Well, I bet you’ll get to feed this one, too. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Davy shrugged.

“And the gophers will be out,” she continued. “You and Bill can snare them again, just like you used to do.” She chattered on, hoping to convince Davy living again at Duggan would be an adventure, yet all the while thinking this entire ordeal was a nightmare and how unfair it was that a few scribbles of a pen could bring about such grief.

Tom stroked Davy’s brow gently. “And I’ll have a look around to see if I can find my old slingshot. Then you can bean them right between their beady eyes.” He gently drilled his finger into the bridge of Davy’s nose. “Right there,” he said, forcing a smile.

“But I’d rather stay here,” Davy protested weakly.

“I know, sweetheart.” Beth nearly choked with emotion and she looked up at Tom for support.

“And we wish you could too,” he answered softly, “but for now you have to go.”

There was an empty silence for a few moments and then Davy rolled onto his side, as if shutting them out. “I wanna go to sleep, now.”

“Don’t you want to say your prayers before you go to sleep?” Beth asked.

“Don’t feel like it.”

“But you always — ”

Tom gently squeezed her shoulder, stopping her from further exhortation. He nodded silently towards the door.

She kissed Davy’s head lightly, and the realization she might not have the opportunity to kiss him goodnight again for quite some time caused her eyes to burn with tears, and her throat to clamp shut. She sat there for several heart-wrenching seconds, loathe to leave her little brother’s side. Finally, Tom grasped her arm and drew her away.

Outside Davy’s room, he pulled her into his embrace, and they leaned on each other for support like two straw bundles in a stook.

And finally, in the privacy of their bedroom, Beth sank onto the large bed and succumbed to her tears. She’d never known a physical pain quite as raw or as agonizing as this feeling of hopelessness and loss and worry.

Tom rocked her back and forth, sharing her pain, and it was all he could do not to break down, too. But his love for her made him strong, stronger than he ever thought he’d need to be.

Minutes later, when her tears began to subside, he shifted her in his arms so they sat face to face. Her nose was red, her lips splotchy, and her eyes puffy. She was the most pitiful sight he’d ever seen, yet he never loved anyone more. He wanted to hold her, protect her and love her forever.

“All the way home I was thinking there has to be some way to make this better,” he said.

“If only there was. I can’t believe my father would give Uncle Mead guardianship. He couldn’t have known what kind of man Mead had grown to be.” A fresh flood of tears threatened, and Beth blinked them back.

“I’m going to get Lanson checking into the will. But in the meantime, I’ve got an idea. Since the judge won’t let us have the boys here in Whistle Creek, maybe we should move to Duggan.”

Beth was speechless. A tear rested on her cheek and Tom rubbed it away lightly with his big flat thumb. “Move? Tom, you’ve worked so hard to make your business successful.”

“I know, but this is more important.”

“But you’ve lived here all your life. All your family is here.”

Tom brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Not all. Part of my family will be in Duggan too.” He gazed at her with an intensity that burned right through her and kindled a small flame of hope. “Think of the advantages. If the boys need us, we’d be right there, not two hundred miles away. And don’t you think Mead would go easier on the boys if he knew we were around?”

It was true. As much as Mead liked to flaunt his authority, Beth knew he was a coward.

Tom continued. “And you could see Davy every day on his way to school.”

She brightened. “I could!” Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and began planting soft sweet kisses all over his face. “Thank you. I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”

“Beth, I love you. My life wouldn’t be worth a tinker’s damn if you were unhappy. So call me selfish, but I plan on spending the rest of my life making you happy.”

“You are the most generous man I have ever known, and I love you dearly and I promise to spend the rest of my life making you equally happy.” With that end in mind, she kissed him fully on the lips.

Tom had all good intentions of tucking her into bed and then sleeping downstairs. The day had been long and tiring and she needed to rest.

But it seemed his new wife had a different intent. When he went to pull away from her, she held him tight. She kissed him again with a passion that surprised him.

His arousal was rapid and full. “Dear Lord, Beth,” he said throatily, “what you do to me.” He leaned her back on the mattress, his body half covering her. His lips crushed against hers, nearly bruising them against her teeth. She opened her mouth, accepting his delving tongue as it raked from side to side. He groaned. “I can’t help myself. I love you so much.”

Beth was too impatient for conversation. “Don’t talk, show me.”

He drew her to stand before him. Their hands frantically removed their own garments. Their breathing became labored with expectation. Tom’s pants and underwear came down in a single push. He stood on one foot, dragged a pant leg off, then hopped wildly on the other foot to yank the other pant leg free.

Beth dropped her skirts, pulled down her cotton drawers and crinolines, and left them in a frilly heap on the floor. She fought with the tight buttons of her bodice.

“Leave them,” he ordered gruffly. His eagerness to know her again was matched only by her desire for him. Too impatient for any preliminary touching, Tom laid her back on the edge of the bed, wrapped her legs around his waist and took her swiftly.

The bed frame squeaked and its headboard drummed a lively rhythm against the wall until it reached a thunderous level. But the only sound they heard was their song of love making.

They certainly didn’t hear the small boy exit the bedroom across the landing. They didn’t hear him tiptoe down to the kitchen to don his coat and shoes. They didn’t hear him slip outside.

By the light of a waning moon, Davy started running. He had to hurry if he was going to make Tannerville by morning. He had to talk to the judge one more time, convince him how important it was that he and Bill be allowed to stay with Beth and Tom.

He ran down the train tracks, slipping often on the frosty wooden ties. The moonlight reflected off the rails, two silver lines converging to a distant point on the horizon. Beyond the horizon was Tannerville. In between was the trestle crossing over the creek that Whistle Creek was named after.

• • •

Dawn was breaking when Tom heard the pounding on the door downstairs. He pulled on the pants, still bunched on the floor.

Beth was awake immediately. “Surely it’s not Uncle Mead already!”

“If it is, I’ll knock his block off. We have until this afternoon before he’s supposed to come.”

It was Lanson at the door, coat pulled up to his ears to ward off the chill of last night’s frost. Beside him was a hefty man, a stranger. They both were grinning ear to ear.

“What’s going on?” Tom asked, letting them in.

Lanson removed his gloves. “Tom, I’d like to introduce you to the Honorable Judge Stone, the real Judge Stone.”

Tom was silent, stunned.

Judge Stone chuckled. “I can understand your shock. I have to admit I was rather surprised myself when Mr. Lanson met me when I returned from fishing and told me what had happened. It seems my janitor thought it would be fine and dandy to impersonate me. He is now looking out from the inside of a jail.”

“I’m still afraid I don’t follow.”

“Follow what?” Beth asked as she joined the men in the kitchen. She pulled her robe tight around her.

Tom made the necessary introductions.

She shook her head. “If you’re Judge Stone, then who … ?” She sank into a chair, confused.

Tom indicated the gentlemen should also seat themselves, and then quickly tossed some logs into the stove to chase away the cold.

The judge explained. “As I was telling your husband, Mrs. Carver, that charlatan was my janitor, Newly Jones. From what he told us, he met up with Parkerson in the saloon, and after a few free drinks, he agreed to help your uncle gain custody of your brothers.”

“Why would he agree to do that?” Tom asked. “Just for free drinks?”

“Plus a tidy sum of four hundred dollars.”

Beth huffed. “Uncle Mead barely has four dollars let alone four hundred.”

“Apparently Newly is easily duped.”

Tom turned to Lanson. “You suspected something, didn’t you?”

“From the moment the trial started. Everything was so unconventional. So after the trial, I asked my aunt if she knew Judge Stone and she did, but the man she described was certainly not the man in court. I merely waited for the real Judge Stone to return from fishing.”

“So now what happens?” Tom asked. “Do we have another trial?”

“We could,” the judge answered, “but what would be the point? Parkerson will soon be sharing a cell with my janitor and will be otherwise engaged for several years.”

For a moment there was silence and then Tom let out a whoop. Beth covered her open mouth with her trembling hand. “Does this mean … ?”

Tom picked Beth up and swung her once around the kitchen. “It sure does, darling. We have custody of the boys.”

“But the will?”

Lanson was quick to answer. “It is of no consequence now, but I’m willing to bet my gold ring it was forged.”

“It’s over? We’re safe?”

“Better than that, we’re a family,” Tom corrected, hugging his wife.