Debra Holland - [Montana Sky 02] (35 page)

Edith stood. Dressed in rich plum silk, she radiated elegance. “Jack Cassidy assaulted my son.”

John raised one eyebrow. “Perhaps I should have been more specific. If anyone has evidence about the
fires
, they should reveal it now.”

Edith lifted her chin. “Those twins burned down the outhouse because they were punished by having to build it after they’d destroyed the first one.”

“Do you have evidence to this accusation, Mrs. Grayson? This is merely speculation.”

“Well,” she harrumphed, then tossed her head and sat down.

Widow Murphy bobbed up again. “They burned down the haystack when they was living with me. Last week, Jack stole my goat. I confronted Mrs. Rodriguez about it. She paid up, but Jack took revenge by burning down my new haystack.”

John sighed. “But do you have evidence they did this? Did you or anyone else see them? Did they admit it?”

“Of course they wouldn’t admit it. Lied through their teeth. But I know.”

Samantha couldn’t keep still any longer. She rose to her feet. “When they lived with you, did they do other damage to your possessions, Mrs. Murphy?”

“Yes, those hellions did.” The woman readied to launch into a litany.

Samantha forestalled her with a raised hand. “When they did something else wrong, like breaking your grandmother’s serving platter, did they admit it?”

The widow wrinkled her forehead, appearing to think. “Yes.”

“Was the fire the only thing they denied?”

The woman pursed her lips.

John leaned forward over the pulpit. “Please answer, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Well, I reckon so.”

Samantha couldn’t help her triumphant smile. “That’s been my experience too. Each time they’ve gotten into mischief, they’ve been truthful with me, even when they feared the consequences. Therefore we need to believe the twins when they deny setting the fires. Because they didn’t.”

Across the aisle, Wyatt met her eyes. He winked and nodded. Warmth flooded her.

His bulbous nose even redder from apparent anger, Mr. Cobb bellowed out. “They’re just pulling the wool over your eyes.”

Samantha iced her voice. “I think I’m quite capable of telling when one of my children is lying to me.” She looked around the room. “I’m sure the other mothers here would agree that they can tell with their children too.”

A few female heads nodded. Good, Samantha thought. Maybe they believe me.

Edith Grayson lifted her chin, but didn’t rise. “My Ben doesn’t lie. Therefore I have no need of such ability.”

I’ll bet he doesn’t.
Sam bit her lip to keep the words bottled up.

Widow Murphy waved a hand, indicating the whole room. “These mothers have raised their children from babies. Of course they know them well. You’ve had those hellions only a few months.”

Samantha fired up. “They’re not hellions.”

Cobb yelled out, “You’re just too softhearted.”

Reverend Norton rose from the first pew. “Now remember, Mrs. Rodriguez is to be commended for doing her Christian duty by the twins. I think her maternal feelings for Jack and Tim do her justice.”

In the silence that settled after the minister’s words, Wyatt unfolded his body from the pew. He stood for a few seconds, looking stern and handsome. “I’d be the first to admit that I was against Mrs. Rodriguez adopting Jack and Tim. I did my best to dissuade her.” He shared a remembering glance with Samantha.

Her heart swelled with pride, and she allowed herself to sit down.

“I’ve come to know the boys, and I believe they are good at heart—just have some rough edges. With more time and love, even those will wear away.”

Samantha bowed her head in relief. Wyatt cared about her boys. Now, if only she could keep the twins…

Cobb raised a fist. “You’re just partial ’cause you’re courtin’ the lady.”

“I’m partial to the lady, yes.” Wyatt raised his voice over the murmur of the crowd. “But I’ve also recently spent more time with Jack and Tim than anyone else here. Therefore, I’m in more of a position to judge.”

Edith Grayson’s cheeks paled. She cast a look of dislike at Samantha.

Wyatt lowered his voice. “In fact those boys helped me find my daughter when she had her accident. Without them, I might have lost her.”

John leaned over the podium. “I’m glad to hear a good account of the twins. Can anyone else—?”

Miss Stanton waved her hand. She’d braided her light brown hair into a dignified bun, but a few tendrils escaped to frame her pretty face. “The boys have been good students and well behaved in class. I must admit they surprised me, but they’ve worked hard to try and catch up with their classmates.”

Samantha sent Miss Stanton a grateful smile.

The teacher nodded to her; her gray eyes looked worried.

Nick Sanders stood, a slight flush to his cheeks. “The boys did a good job on building the outhouse. They worked hard and were willin’ to learn. Very pleased with the outcome, they were. I don’t believe Jack or Tim would have set fire to it.” He nodded decisively before sitting down.

Widow Murphy shrilled, “We’re here about the fires, not to hear about this other nonsense. I want Mrs. Rodriguez to repay me for the loss of my haystack, and I want those twins sent away.”

“Hear, hear,” Cobb grumbled.

Several other heads nodded, including his wife’s. The bird on Hortense Cobb’s bonnet bobbed forward. “Next be burning us all in our beds.”

“No.” Samantha protested, her stomach feeling as if it contained a pincushion.

Caleb Livingston rose, looking cool and aristocratic. “Perhaps we need to go about this in a more democratic fashion. I suggest we vote on whether or not to send the twins to an orphanage.”

“No.” Samantha shot to her feet. “They’re my boys.” She threw the words at the banker. “You will
not
take them from me!”

“You have not formally adopted them, Mrs. Rodriguez.”

“But I love them.”

“Such sentiments do you credit.” His brown eyes warmed to her. “However, tragedy happens. There will be other children who are orphaned and in need of the loving home you can provide. Children who won’t be so disruptive to the community.”

Samantha gritted her teeth. “Children are not interchangeable, Mr. Livingston.”

“I’m not suggesting that they are, Mrs. Rodriguez.” He turned toward John. “Carter, I call for a vote. And”—he glanced around—“because I believe Mrs. Rodriguez should feel this is fair, I suggest we allow the women to vote as well.”

John let out a sigh and gave Samantha a long, questioning look.

In her mind she frantically counted the people she knew were on her side. Maybe there’d be enough. She nodded her acquiescence, and started to pray.

Pamela reached over and took Samantha’s right hand. Samantha squeezed, grateful for her support.

“All in favor of Jack and Tim Cassidy being allowed to continue to live with Mrs. Rodriguez raise your hand.”

With a rapidly beating heart, Samantha lifted her left arm high and firm. Other hands fluttered up. Wyatt and Mrs. Toffels, the Carters and the Sanderses, Miss Stanton, Reverend and Mrs.
Norton, and some people she didn’t know but would be eternally grateful toward.

But was it enough? It didn’t look like half the room, but maybe some others would abstain.

“The count is thirteen for the Cassidy twins remaining here. Now all those opposed.”

Some hands shot up, while others rose more reluctantly. But Samantha could see without counting—she’d lost the boys.

Her heart contracted into a tight little ball, throbbing with pain. Tears sprang to her eyes, but tilting her chin, she refused to allow them to fall.

John’s voice seemed heavy with sorrow. “The count is twentyfive against.” He looked directly at Samantha, blue eyes sympathetic. “Mrs. Rodriguez, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head at him, but didn’t dare voice her realization that it wasn’t his fault. But in spite of all her control, one tear spilled down her cheek.

Wyatt stood up. “If the boys must be sent away, I’m against sending them to an orphanage. I know several respectable farming families in the Midwest. I’ll write and inquire if they’ll take them.”

John nodded. “That sounds suitable. I’m in agreement.”

Widow Murphy jumped up. “And in the meantime, are we to be burned in our beds?” She shrilled, “Send the boys to the orphanage. If Mr. Thompson finds someone to take them, fine. But the town has voted. They leave.”

The room buzzed. Reverend Norton tottered to his feet, seeming older than he’d been an hour before. “I’ll be by to pick up the twins tomorrow morning, Mrs. Rodriguez.”

Samantha willed her voice to clear, pitching her tone so the whole room could hear. “You can’t, Reverend Norton. They
heard threats that the bank, the mercantile, and the livery would withhold their services from me, thus threatening the prosperity of the ranch. Fearing that I would lose the property if they stayed, the twins and Little Feather ran away Friday afternoon. They left a note and took supplies.” Her voice wavered. “I don’t know where they are.”

Voices all at once. Dabbing at her eyes, Samantha stood and let the wave of sound break over her. Most of the people had risen to their feet, some gesticulating wildly.

Amid the noise, Mark Carter slipped in and made his way to his mother’s pew. He reached over and touched her on her sleeve.

Pamela turned her head. “Mark, you’re supposed to be outside.” Then catching sight of his troubled expression, she said, “What is it?”

Mark looked back and forth from his mother to Samantha. “Daniel told us about the twins and Little Feather running away. Ben remembered Jack talking about the caves Little Feather lived in, and Ben and Arlie set out to look for them.”

Samantha leaned toward Mark. “Oh, dear. His mother won’t be pleased. I understand there are several different cave systems around here. Does he know that?”

“Don’t know. But Daniel and Christine rode off together on her pony. Dan said to tell you they were going to warn the boys.” Mark’s usually mischievous features screwed up in distaste. “Ben fancies himself a sheriff. He’s got his rifle with him.”

Samantha gasped. “Oh no.” Fear jolted through her; she wildly looked around for Wyatt.

Her outburst caught the attention of several people around her, including Wyatt. Bringing his conversation with Mr. Cobb to a close, he strode over to them. Anger glinted in his gray eyes, but changed to concern when he reached Samantha.

Pamela stepped into the aisle so Samantha could follow and speak to Wyatt.

He touched her shoulder in a silent gesture of sympathy.

Samantha beckoned him closer and when he’d leaned down, she whispered, “Ben and Arlie have gone to look for the boys. Ben has a gun. Daniel and Christine rode off to warn them.”

His silver gaze sharpened. “Do you know where?”

“I just know they’re in a cave near Thunder Gulch. Do you know where that is?”

“I do.” His voice sounded grim. “That area’s more riddled with holes than Swiss cheese.” He glanced around. “We’re going to have to speak up. Mrs. Grayson needs to know, also Arlie’s parents. I’ll organize some search teams.”

He squeezed her shoulder, then headed over to John Carter and spent a moment in low-voiced conversation with him. John fisted his hand and banged on the pulpit. The room hushed. “Thompson, here, has something to say.”

He stepped down, allowing Wyatt to take his place. “Apparently the boys have taken refuge in one of the caverns near Thunder Gulch.”

Voices buzzed in curiosity, and he sliced the air with his hand. “That’s not all.” He looked at Edith. “Ben and Arlie took it into their heads to play sheriff and went after them.”

“Oh, dear God.” Edith swayed against her brother. “My baby. Caleb, you must go after him at once.”

“Your
baby’s
carrying a gun,” Samantha snapped.

Edith appeared shocked. “Are you going to let her speak to me that way?” she said to her brother.

Caleb Livingston ignored her.

Wyatt held up one hand for silence. “There’s more. My daughter and Daniel rode to warn the boys about Ben and Arlie. Now we have seven children going into caves. Since Ben, Christine, and Daniel aren’t familiar with those caverns, they could find themselves in danger.” He glanced at the Sloans, sitting in the last pew. “Arlie ever do any exploring there?”

Charlie Sloan nodded slowly, as if having to ponder each word. He stroked his scraggly brown beard. “Took him myself once, went to that there crystal one with the river running through it.”

Wyatt swung his gaze back to Samantha. “Sound like the place Little Feather described?”

Samantha shook her head. “He mentioned cone-shaped columns and small pools of water.”

Henry Arden, sitting small and shriveled in his pew at the back of the room, spoke up. “Then there’s that one south a bit.” His voice quavered. “The one used by the rustlers thirty years ago. Played there myself as a boy.”

Wyatt looked down at Edith, who dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “We’d better form three search parties, one for each cave. Arden, you lead a group to the rustlers’ cave.”

The little man blinked, then sat up straighter.

“Sloan, you and Livingston and some of the other men check out the crystal one. Sanders, Carter, come with me.”