Texas Brides Collection (54 page)

That night Reuben could not sleep, alone in a strange town with his long-lost brother not far away. The late-night rumble of carriages, the sound of a piano somewhere, and laughter and muffled voices from downstairs reminded him of how much he missed Wyoming. He longed for the sound of the wind whistling in the bunkhouse eaves, the pop of burning wood in his stove, and the occasional call from one of the cattle. Even the mournful coyote. Most of all he wanted to hear Charlotte’s voice.

Instead, he heard Colt’s words that pierced into his soul. Since he couldn’t sleep, he figured he might as well pray.

Kneeling on the hardwood floor as Reverend Mann had said a man ought to pray, Reuben began.

“Lord, I’ve been trying to do what’s right in Your eyes, but I still”—he drew in a shuddering breath—“I still feel like I’m not good enough. I know I’ve done all those things Colt said, but the idea that You’ve forgiven me just doesn’t add up.”

Charlotte’s words at the box social chased Colt’s words around Reuben’s mind.

“Now, Lord, I’m not saying what Jesus did for me wasn’t enough. It was plenty for one thief on the cross. And I have a feeling he and I aren’t much different.”

Reuben paused and heard only the sounds of the traffic outside and hotel noises below. He touched his face, and it was wet with tears.

“Remember me.”

The weight on Reuben’s shoulders nearly suffocated him as he remained on his knees, his head bowed. Colt was right. He’d worn the past like his old coat and dragged it along behind him like a string of chains when it got too heavy. The bitter realization made a flood of tears burst from inside, tears he’d never let himself shed since that day in Denmark.

“Please release me from this, Lord.” Now he was blubbering like a five-year-old. “I’m not sorry about getting caught. I know what I’ve done was wrong.”

A quiet breeze drifted in the window, and it held a hint of early Texas spring.

I make all things new
.

The silent words wrapped around Reuben and swallowed up the weight that covered him. He felt as if he’d dropped a heavy load.

Reuben imagined he was out riding Checkers and had cast a burden on the trail. He could picture himself looking back at the heap lying in the dust. Sure, he’d owned up to it, but he wouldn’t carry it any longer. Then another rider came up on a horse that glowed brighter than fresh cotton. This rider took up Reuben’s load and slung it over his shoulder. His smile hit Reuben like the sun’s glow.

Let’s ride together
.

Reuben opened his eyes to see the blanket on his bed in the hotel. It was time to go home.

Charlotte flung back the covers and rolled out of bed. The new dress with its sprigs of flowers hung on the dress form in her room. She and Momma had worked to finish the dress before Reuben returned home—today!

The simple telegraph lay on the washstand, and Charlotte had dreamed of the message the whole night:

“Returning. Arriving Wednesday on stage. RW.” She hoped and prayed that Reuben’s errand was successful.

She hurried through her simple chores and helped Momma make breakfast but didn’t change into the new dress until it was time for them to leave for town.

Why had she doubted? For an instant, Charlotte wondered what dark thing lay in store for them.

“Sorry, Lord. I didn’t mean to borrow trouble. Go before us today and guide our steps. Watch over Reuben on his journey.” She stood before the looking glass that hung on the wall over the washstand and pinched her cheeks. Color sprang into them.

“You ready?” Pa called at her door. “Don’t know exactly when that stage will arrive, but I’d like to be there. The team’s waitin’ outside.”

“I’ll be right there, Pa.” Charlotte paused and glanced back into her bedroom. A spinster’s bedroom. The room of a woman who waited for a broken promise to be fulfilled. No, not quite broken. Just delayed. She regretted the lost years she had spent, not in idleness certainly, but in waiting. But some things, some people were worth waiting for.

Momma was fastening the bow under her chin when Charlotte entered the kitchen. “Sam, I don’t see why you’re going, too.”

“Etta, the other boys have things in hand around here till we get back. Besides, I need to speak with Reuben.” Pa showed them a folded piece of paper money. “He asked me to keep this while he was gone—says he doesn’t know how it came to be inside his coat pocket and didn’t want to be caught holding this money.”

Charlotte eyed the money. “You think someone might be trying to make it look like he’s stealing again?” No, not Reuben. But all that money at the social and him at the bank—the idea made her blood boil.

Pa nodded slowly. “If Reuben’s in trouble, he needs all the friends he can get right now.”

She looked at Pa. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want you to spend your time worryin’ while Reuben was gone.”

Charlotte grabbed her shawl and followed them into the late winter chill. Borrowing trouble? She suddenly felt as if they’d bought a whole pile of it.

Days spent on the stage left Reuben with a short scruff of beard and a weary heart. He hadn’t expected his brother to rush to him with open arms. He hadn’t expected his faith to be shaken to its crumbly foundations, either.

The buildings of Raider’s Crossing loomed ahead. Home. For good or ill, Reuben would stay. He squinted from his place on top of the stage. Better on the outside freezing than inside below with a screaming baby and folks smelling of travel.

Reuben caught sight of the Jeffers’ wagon, and his heart leapt when he saw Charlotte. The first thing he wanted to do, after getting a bath and shave, of course, then speaking with her pa, was take her in his arms.

Then he saw the fear on Charlotte’s face.

Another sight made his heart fall. There stood the sheriff, Mr. Woodward, the newspaper man, and James Johansson.

Be my shield, Lord. I have no defense but the truth
.

Reuben waited until the stage rolled to a stop. He climbed down, his heart pounding a drumbeat. Charlotte ran to him and wrapped him in a strong hug.

“I don’t believe it. They’re wrong,” she whispered in his ear. “You should have told me about the money.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he whispered back.

Fresh tears came from her eyes. “You sound like Pa.”

“I consider that to be a compliment.”

“Miz Jeffers,” came the sheriff ’s no-nonsense voice, “you need to step aside.”

She did so slowly, her hands curled into fists. “You’ve got no proof.”

“Have I done something wrong, Sheriff?” Reuben looked him in the eye.

“That remains to be seen, Wilson.” The sheriff nodded in the direction of Mr. Woodward and James. “You need to come down to my office and answer some questions. Mr. Woodward is asking that robbery charges be lodged against you.”

R
euben’s eyelids drooped as he sat in the stiff-backed chair across from the sheriff. He didn’t know how many times he repeated the same answers to the same questions.

“Like I said before, I only made one deposit and one withdrawal. Check the bank records.”

The sheriff kicked back in his chair and leaned against the wall. “Mr. Woodward here says he started noticing money missing about the same time you arrived in Raider’s Crossing. And he told me about the time y’all bumped heads at the bank, money going everywhere.

“I’m sure it’s mighty tempting to a man in your position to see a month’s worth of wages going across the floor.”

Reuben curled his hands into fists at his sides.
A man in your position
. “Sheriff, I’m not that kind of man anymore. I’ve earned my money from hard work, not thieving.”

James stepped forward. “And you have enough to throw down for a silly supper? What, were you trying to impress her father?”

It would take but one punch to fell this dandy.

Reuben sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t recall the sheriff allowing you to ask questions. In fact, I don’t know why you’re here in the first place.” He glared at James, who shrank back to the corner. “You’ve had it in for me since the day I came here. Wouldn’t it be something else if you were the one causing all this trouble?”

James licked his lips. “Howard, tell him about the accounts.”

Mr. Woodward began. “I’ve been missing money, here and there, five to ten dollars at a time, from the subscription receipts.” He tossed a ledger onto the table. “Sheriff, start from the beginning of this year.”

“I’m not a man of numbers, Woodward.” The sheriff thumbed the pages. “What’m I looking at?”

“The missing amounts are circled, right here. Somehow between the newspaper office and the bank, the money goes missing.” Mr. Woodward pointed to the last entry. “See here? Last Tuesday, five more dollars missing.”

Reuben sat up straighter. “Mr. Woodward, I believe you’ve got a thief, and I know it’s not me. I was in Huntsville visiting my brother in prison on that date. The Jeffers family has two telegraphs I sent, on my arrival and right before I left. And the prison has a record of my visits.”

James’s face had turned the color of paste. “Wh–what?”

Mr. Woodward turned to face James. “You told me you had seen Reuben that day in town. Unless he can work some kind of trick, I don’t see as how he can be two places at once.”

James bolted for the door, but Reuben stuck out his foot and sent the man flying. Not quite a punch, but at the moment it would serve the cause of justice.