Sister's Choice (6 page)

“Have they set a date for your trial?” Zack asked.

“They said the next time the circuit judge comes through.

He was here last week, but my lawyer still weren’t here from Portland yet, so they had to put it off. I still don’t like my mama spendin’ so much on a fancy city lawyer. But Mr. Cranston has a bad touch of ague and ain’t up to a trial.”

Mr. Earl Cranston was the only lawyer in the county, and even Maggie knew he wasn’t someone into whose hands you’d want to place your life. He spent too much time in the local saloons, so it was a blessing he was sick. Maggie wondered, however, if there was more to his reluctance to take Tommy’s case. Maybe he didn’t want to fight a losing battle. That worried her. She thought of Evan with his law degree from a fancy school. Maybe he would agree to help, but she decided not to say anything to Tommy, so as not to raise his hopes.

“Your mother can afford it,” Zack said, “so don’t you worry.”

“Yeah, ain’t that somethin’? Who’d a thought my pa had stashed away so much cash while we lived like poor folks?” He shook his head, looking bemused, then his eyes hardened. “I ain’t sorry he’s gone.”

“That may be so, Tommy,” Zack said, lowering his voice and looking to the door that led from the office to the cells, “and no one has a right to blame you for feeling that way. But Chet gets bored and has a habit of eavesdropping, so it might be prudent to not say things like that before your trial.”

“Prudent?” asked Tommy. “What’s that?”

“Smart,” explained Maggie. “It means the smart thing is to be careful what you say. Folks who don’t know you like we do might take it wrong.”

“I should lie, then?”

“No. Don’t lie about anything,” Zack replied. “But . . .” He glanced at Maggie. Apparently he was perplexed about how to explain the fine line between lying and simply not incriminating oneself. “Look, Tommy,” Zack went on when he saw Maggie couldn’t help him, “don’t talk to anyone about your pa or what happened to him—except to your lawyer when he comes. Mr. Werth will know what to do and who to talk to.”

“I guess I can do that. I don’t care to talk much about it anyway.”

Taking that cue, Maggie launched into a report of Main-town news. She told about the various visitors. Tommy didn’t remember much about Evan, except that he was real smart. Thus, with Zack’s help, she managed to fill the next half hour with conversation. She hated to admit it, but she was relieved when the deputy came in to say their time was up. She hugged Tommy and Zack shook his hand; then they were led back into the office. Maggie wasn’t thrilled to see that the sheriff had returned and was seated at his desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Hartley,” said Sheriff Haynes. He cast a critical glance at Maggie. “I don’t like to have children come into my jail,” he added sternly.

“I’m not a child!” exclaimed Maggie, momentarily forgetting her trepidation.

With more of a voice of reason, Zack added, “I’m sorry, Sheriff, but Maggie is eighteen, not really a child.”

“Does your father know you have come here?”

“Yes . . . sir,” Maggie replied, finally remembering her manners and the fact that she didn’t want to give this man any reason to question her further.

Zack asked, “Sheriff, do you know why Tommy’s lawyer hasn’t come to see him? His mother and I went to Portland two weeks ago to speak with him and hire him.”

“Haven’t heard a word from him. Our backwater town is probably low on his list of priorities.”

“Well, it isn’t right that Tommy should languish away in jail waiting on the sluggish wheels of justice. I see no reason why you can’t release him into my custody until the trial starts.”

“You see no reason, Mr. Hartley?” Haynes’s tone was laced in sarcasm. “Only a few weeks ago, you came very close to getting arrested yourself. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that you are no longer the respected circuit preacher.”

Maggie wanted to rise up in defense of her friend, but as awful as the sheriff ’s words were, they were true. She couldn’t argue against them, but she could offer an alternative.

“My father could take custody of Tommy,” she said.

Haynes arched a brow. “Your family is closer to Tommy than I thought.”

Maggie gulped. Now she was in for it.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” the sheriff added quickly. “Tommy ran once. I won’t risk his running again.”

Maggie and Zack wasted no more time there. They were both anxious to get away from the sheriff, Maggie for her secret, and Zack probably because he feared the man might find a reason to arrest him after all.

They found Ellie in Dolman’s. Everything on Mama’s list had been carried out to the wagon, and now Ellie was looking through some of Mr. Dolman’s catalogues.

“Maggie, I have to show you something,” she said excitedly as they entered the store. “Zack, you can’t look. Okay?”

He smiled. “I’ll just go out to the wagon and see that everything is secured.”

When he was gone, Ellie opened one of the catalogues to a page of wedding gowns. She poked her finger at one in particular. “That’s it. That’s the gown I want.”

“It’s really beautiful,” Maggie said, trying to make her enthusiasm equal her sister’s. She was, in fact, glad to have something to take her mind off the trip to the jail. “Do you think Mama will let you buy a store-bought dress?” She saw that the price was thirty-five dollars and fifty cents! That was more than a month’s wages at the sawmill.

“Of course not, and I wouldn’t ask for something so extravagant. But Mama can surely make a pattern from this picture, and if not, Grandma definitely can. Mr. Dolman said this catalog will be replaced with a new one in a few weeks and I can have it after that. Until then, I’ve made a sketch to show Mama.”

“Wow, Ellie!” Maggie said, her voice slightly rough with emotion. “You are really getting married! I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s not as if I’ll be leaving Maintown.”

“But everything will change.”

“It won’t be long before you’ll be married, too.” But Ellie looked a little uncertain herself, as if the excitement of
getting
married had made her forget what
being
married meant.

Maggie was worried they both might start to cry right there, so she quickly added, “Have you found me a bridesmaid dress?”

Ellie flipped over a page in the catalog. “What about this? Perhaps in pink?”

“Ellie, you really wouldn’t make me wear something so frilly!” Maggie forgot her previous melancholy. “It looks as if they used every inch of lace in the country to make it.”

“Oh, but my heart is set on it,” Ellie beseeched.

“Well . . . ”

Ellie burst out laughing. “Even I wouldn’t wear that dress,” she said between giggles.

Maggie gave her sister a playful punch in the arm. “I guess you got me good.”

“It doesn’t happen often. Your mind must be elsewhere. Oh! That reminds me. I have a thought about—”

Just then Zack poked his head into the store. “You ladies about ready?”

They were in the buckboard and headed home when Ellie returned to the thought she had left incomplete earlier. “Maggie, I was thinking about what you said last night, you know, about how you’ll never get around Mrs. Stoddard to get to Colby—”

“Ellie!” Maggie gave a quick, uncomfortable glance in Zack’s direction. She and Zack could talk about a lot of things, but never about her romantic troubles.

“Zack already knows about you and Colby,” Ellie stated matter-of-factly. “I didn’t think you’d mind. Zack and I talk about everything.”

“She didn’t have to say much,” put in Zack. “It’s pretty obvious how you nearly melt when he’s around.”

Maggie groaned. “I suppose everyone knows! Even Colby.

I’m such a fool.”

“Only those who know you well can tell,” Ellie said. “It’s really not that obvious.” She gave a sideways glance at Zack.

“Not at all,” Zack recanted, but rather lamely. “I could tell only because I already knew.”

With a shrug Maggie asked, “So what were you thinking, Ellie? I obviously need every bit of help I can get.”

“There is one thing that will surely impress Mrs. Stod-dard—your sewing ability.”

“I’m doomed, then. If you and Mama couldn’t teach me, then it is impossible.”

“You are forgetting the one person who can teach you to sew if no one else can—Grandma Spooner.” Ellie grinned triumphantly, as if it solved everything.

“I don’t know . . .”

“She’ll be able to teach you. I know,” Ellie said.

“What if I’m just a sewing dunce?”

“You have never learned because you were never properly motivated. You never cared about learning. You’ve got some motivation now, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” Visions leaped into Maggie’s mind of her making a fabulous quilt of fancy laid-on work with tiny stitches that would make one cross-eyed trying to find them. She saw Mrs. Stoddard’s eyes light up with admiration, immediately nudging her son into Maggie’s arms. The fantasy was enough to raise her hopes a little. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, and I think it is meant to be with Grandma coming now.”

“Does Tamara Brennan sew?” Maggie asked, though she was pretty sure of the answer.

Ellie replied honestly. “We learned needlepoint at Mrs. Dubois’, and she was very accomplished at that.”

“I’ll never be able to learn before she gets her clutches into Colby.”

“You’ve got to try.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask Grandma.”

FIVE

Mama probably didn’t like the fact that she was a younger image of her mother, just as Maggie wasn’t thrilled when everyone also told her that she, Maggie, was exactly like her mama. It wasn’t that Maggie didn’t love and admire her mother and even aspire to many of her finer qualities, but like anyone else, she wanted her own identity, wanted to be unique. Not to mention the fact that she and Mama were constantly butting heads. Could it be they argued so much
because
they were alike? Had Mama and Grandma argued a lot when Mama was younger? They seemed to get on well now.

“Maggie, you are being unusually pensive,” Grandma said.

“Huh?” Maggie replied, pulling her thoughts back to focus on the activity in the Newcomb kitchen. She was just in time to catch her mother casting a peculiar glance in Grandma’s direction, like an unspoken signal or something she hadn’t intended for Maggie to see. What was that all about?

“Goodness! I am so happy to be here.” Grandma reached across the table and patted Maggie’s hand. “I have missed my grandchildren.”

“Too bad I’m the only one around right now,” Maggie said. Grandma had arrived that afternoon. Not knowing exactly when Grandma would come, Ellie had run into Maintown to get thread at the general store. She would be home soon. Boyd was working up at the lumber camp and wouldn’t be home until Saturday. Dad was out in the field harvesting their potatoes, and Georgie was helping him—Maggie would have been there, too, except Mama thought there ought to be some kind of welcoming committee to greet Grandma. So it was just Mama and Maggie on hand for Grandma’s arrival.

“I am going to make it a point to spend some
alone
time with each one of you this visit.” Grandma Spooner was the kind of grandmother whose statement like that didn’t make you cringe. Maggie had always enjoyed her company. And, now that she thought about it, if Mama was like Grandma and Maggie was like Mama, then it stood to reason that Maggie was also like Grandma. That wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

But Maggie sure didn’t feel like Grandma, who was kind, thoughtful, and even serene. She always said the right thing, was never selfish, and, of course, was very skilled in all the womanly pursuits. Maggie wondered what the woman had been like when she was younger. Had she argued with her mother about things? Had she felt out of step with other girls her age? And clumsy with boys? Surely not.

“Grandma,” Maggie ventured, “since that’s what you’d like to do, may I suggest something you and I might do?” She suddenly felt shy and awkward. If she continued, both the older women at the table would question her motives, and it would be embarrassing to explain.

“Of course.”

Maggie forged ahead. “Well, I was wondering if . . . well, if—that is, if there is time. I mean, there probably won’t be, and I would understand. In fact . . .” Her resolve crumbled with each word. “I know there won’t be, time, that is. It would take forever—”

“Why don’t you let me decide if there is time?” Grandma said. “Tell me what you’d like to do.”

“Maggie, I have never known you to be so tongue-tied,” put in Mama.

Now there definitely were going to be questions. Maggie rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. But she made herself go on. “Okay, I-I’d like you to teach me to sew,” she finished in a rush.

“I’d love to,” Grandma enthused.

Mama opened her mouth to speak, but Grandma shot her a glance, kind of an unspoken signal as Mama had done earlier, but this was also like a mother hushing her child. Mama clamped her mouth shut. It was almost as if they already knew Maggie’s motives, but they couldn’t possibly know. Only Ellie and Zack knew about Colby. Mama may have guessed, but she couldn’t have said anything to Grandma. They hadn’t been alone since her arrival.

Maggie was relieved there wasn’t going to be an interrogation about her request. She had feared Mama might take offense at Maggie’s going over her head to get help from Grandma. But maybe she understood that Maggie’s case was hopeless enough to warrant outside help.

Before they had a chance to discuss Maggie’s request further, Ellie returned from town, Dad and Georgie came in from working in the fields, and the house was full of bustle. Grandma fit into it all very easily, as if she had always been there. Indeed, Mama would love nothing more than to have Grandma come live with them, but she feared if that happened Grandmother Newcomb would want the same arrangement, or at the least she’d have her feelings hurt by being left out. The irony was that Grandmother and Granddad Newcomb would have jumped at the chance to live with their son and his family, while Grandma Spooner steadfastly insisted on keeping her own home. Mama had once said, when she didn’t think anyone was listening, that Mother Newcomb only wanted to live with them in order to make Mama’s life miserable.