Diane T. Ashley (34 page)

“I don’t have any hard evidence.” David blew out an exasperated breath. It was often difficult working with local law enforcement. He should know by now that patience was the best defense against suspicion and resistance.

“But you still want me to assign a deputy to stay at the bank in case it is robbed?” Sheriff Ambrose Cunningham wore his uniform well. Although not as tall as David, his thick chest and muscled arms would inspire fear in any criminal. “This is one of the busiest days of the year. I only have two men working for me, and they need to be visible, not hidden away waiting for someone who’s probably not coming anyway.”

“What better time to rob the bank than when everyone is focused on the celebration?”

“I thought you said these bank robbers know all the details about the inside of a bank before they strike. What gives you the idea they’ll try to get into our bank while it’s closed?”

David relaxed his shoulders with an effort. The sheriff was a nice man, and by all accounts honest, but he obviously didn’t like to depart from his routine. “Because it’s the easiest way to commit a robbery. Why take the chance that someone might surprise them during normal working hours, when the Fourth of July activities give them the perfect opportunity to slip in, help themselves to the cash inside, and disappear before anyone realizes they’re here?”

“I’m spread too thin today anyway. I don’t see how I can help you.”

“I understand.” At least he had tried to work with the authorities. “You don’t mind if I keep watch over the bank, do you?”

“Go ahead, young man. I’ve heard a lot of stories about you Pinkertons. I’m sure you can handle yourself if your fellows do show up.”

David left the jail and put his hat on his head as he considered his next step. A glance toward the sky told him it was going to be another warm day. The population of Cairo was swollen with strangers from nearby villages. It was the perfect time for strangers to mingle unnoticed. He knew the one bank in town was too easy a target for Hargrove and his gang to resist. That’s where he would wait.

Brick with wide windows, the two-story building offered no place for him to hide. David walked around to the alley alongside the building. Shadows filled the area. He stretched his hearing to its limit. If the robbers planned ahead, they might already be here. His hand rested on the gun he had strapped on before leaving the
Miss Polly
.

A sound in the shadows at the back of the alley made him slip off the leather guard holding his weapon in its holster. A rat dashed out of the darkness, closely followed by a scrawny cat. David grimaced at his jumpiness and reholstered his gun. Taking a deep breath, he entered the alley, looking for a place to hide while he waited for the robbers to strike.

This had to be the day, the day he would finally catch the robbers and end this assignment. He would take great pleasure in fastening a pair of handcuffs on Vance Hargrove and dragging him off to prison. He knew the man was guilty, felt it in his heart. He knew Jasmine didn’t agree, but she didn’t have his experience.

He stopped the thought as the pastor’s message from the day before returned to him. Was he making the same mistake again? Was his smug self-righteousness keeping him from seeing the truth? David sank to his knees at the edge of the alley, locked his hands in front of him, and closed his eyes.

Lord, thank You for showing me the error of my ways. I know I’m apt to act before I think. Help me to wait on Your leading. You’re in control. Please help me stop these men before they hurt anyone else. And God, forgive me for ignoring the beam in my own eye while I was so concerned with the mote in Jasmine’s. I’m going to leave that problem up to You … or at least I’m going to try
.

Feeling much more calm, David got back to his feet. When he looked in the alley this time, he saw a stairwell that led to the bank’s roof. With an additional thanks to God, he ran to the wooden steps and climbed up. The view from the roof showed him every entrance to the bank. The thieves would not be able to get away. All he had to do now was wait.

Cheers from the riverbank told him that the boats must be within sight once more. Was Jasmine down there somewhere? Or was she still asleep on the
Ophelia?
He hoped it was the latter. Maybe she would have a good time at the fair and forget about the robberies.

A couple of young boys ran down the street, their laughter bringing a smile to his face. They dashed past the bank and disappeared, leaving him alone once more. David lay back on the flat roof and put his hands behind his head. Was this what his future would be like? Would he always be so alone?

He reached for his shirt pocket and pulled out the letter from his father. Turning it over in his hands, he heard Marguerite Trahan’s question once again. Who would it hurt if he forgave his pa? If he let go of the past, of the terrible choices his mother had made, of the way he’d had to rely on the charity of others to survive?

A laugh floated upward on the breeze, interrupting his thoughts. Jasmine? David raised his head over the edge of the roof and looked down into the street. A couple was strolling past the bank. It was hard to tell who the woman was because her large hat hid her features from him. But the man was certainly not Vance. His hair was a lighter brown, and he walked with a slight limp.

As David watched, the limping man stopped, pulled the female into his arms, and began kissing her. She didn’t struggle, instead reaching a hand up to caress his cheek. The man pulled her even closer, deepening the kiss. Suddenly realizing that he was spying on a private moment, David drew back.

They moved on, and his thoughts turned back to his father. Blake had told him Christ would help him figure out how to forgive Pa. But how? A scripture from Psalms floated to the surface of his mind.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Was that the answer? He had rushed from one goal to the next for so long now that he’d not taken much time to still his mind and listen for God’s voice. He felt his lips turn up in a smile. Only God would use a time like this—while he was watching for criminals to appear—to speak to him in that still, small voice.

David closed his eyes.
God, I’m listening
. Warmth enveloped him, a warmth that had nothing to do with the roof beneath him or the sun above. This feeling came from his heart, from the depths of his soul. And he knew. Forgiveness flowed to him and through him, targeting the emotions he had clung to for so long. With God filling his heart, the bitterness lost its hold. No matter what his parents had done or not done, his heavenly Father would never abandon him. The sadness that had weighted his soul for so long was lost in the realization that God had plans for his future, good plans. The words of the prophet Jeremiah sounded in his mind.
“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”
He basked in the love and understanding of his Father as he continued his vigil.

Multiple blasts from steamboat whistles indicated that the race was over, and he wondered who had won. The thought disappeared as David heard someone approaching the bank. His heart doubled its speed. Had his hunch been right?

Peeking over the roof edge, he saw nothing at first. David was beginning to think he’d imagined the sounds when a pair of men moved out of a shadowed doorway across the street, guns drawn. A thump below him was followed by the sound of shattering glass. The bank’s plate glass window. David drew back and stood, easing his way to the street as he drew his own weapon. He breathed a prayer for protection as he rounded the corner of the bank building.

Two men stood at the busted window, their attention centered on the interior of the building.

David raised his weapon. “Hold it right there.”

A rain of bullets answered him as both the robbers swung in his direction.

David ducked back around the corner of the building.

“Did we kill him?” He heard one of the men ask the question.

The only answer was the sound of footsteps running away from David’s position.

“What’s going on?” Another voice sounded, this one from farther away, probably the man inside.

“Get out o’ there.” The man who had spoken first yelled the warning as he, too, ran in the opposite direction.

David came out from his hiding place as the third man dove through the window back onto the street, rolled to a standing position, and took off toward the busy street where the fair was going on. A few steps behind, David centered his attention on catching the robber before anyone else’s life was endangered.

“You should have consulted Jasmine before making your wager. She comes from a riverboat family, after all.” Clem’s voice sounded less helpful than her words indicated. “Or David would have been happy to advise you.”

Jasmine knew her friend didn’t trust Vance any more than David did, but she felt sorry for him. He looked so hurt because the
Marc Antony
had lost. “Let’s go see the flea circus.”

Vance shook his head. “That’s nothing but a sham.”

“I don’t care.” Jasmine tugged on his arm. “Sham or not, it’ll still be fun to watch. I’ve never seen one before.”

Rafe and Angelica walked toward them.

“Maybe next time you’ll buy a ticket on the winning boat like we did.” Angelica sounded giddy. “I really thought your boat would win until your captain got you caught in that snag.”

Vance grimaced. “Come on.”

Jasmine sent the pair an apologetic glance as they headed down the street. Her gaze met Clem’s. Vance needn’t be such a sorehead. It was his own fault for making a bet in the first place.

They walked past booths and stalls that had been set up all along the street, stopping to watch a man hide a seed under one of three walnut shells. He slid the shells around on the surface of his board, his hands moving so fast Jasmine’s eyes couldn’t follow his movements. Then he offered to double the money of anyone who could guess which shell hid the seed. When he tried to get her to guess, she laughingly declined, and the three of them walked on.

The flea circus was a fun novelty, with tiny swings that moved back and forth and balls that rotated under their own power. Vance said they were run by mechanical means, like a pocket watch. Jasmine and Clem refused to believe him, pointing out the tiny insects who were currently “resting” in a jar beside the exhibition.

Tabitha stood in front of a stall that displayed handmade jewelry, haggling with the owner. She smiled when she saw them. “Clem, I have found the most beautiful length of cloth. I just know you’ll be able to make me a new outfit with it.”

Clem’s face brightened. “Let me see it.”

Vance expressed an interest in competing in a three-legged race. Jasmine encouraged him with a smile but stayed behind with Clem.

Losing interest as the two other women discussed lengths and styles, she watched a juggler who was tossing some very sharp knives above his head. A group of boys followed close behind him, nudging each other and exclaiming over the juggler’s skills. One of them was liable to be hurt if he got any closer.

Jasmine darted out into the street to warn them just as someone ran out from a nearby building, a gun in his hand. Distracted by whoever was chasing him, the man zigzagged at the last moment to avoid colliding with the juggler. Panting, he ran straight toward her, his head turned to judge the distance of his pursuer.

“Look out!” Clem called out the warning, but Jasmine ignored her.

The man was definitely not part of the Fourth of July celebration, so he must be up to no good. She stood her ground and put out her hands to stop him.

David rounded the corner, his eyes widening when he saw her. In an instant, she knew the fleeing man was one of the robbers David had been chasing since the trip to New Orleans. The robber still didn’t realize she was there, so he crashed into her full tilt. Down they both went, raising a cloud of dust when they struck the ground.

The world went dark. When the light returned, the heavy weight pinning her was lifted. She heard David yelling her name as though he were a long way away. Jasmine tried to take a breath, but something was wrong with her chest. She couldn’t draw air in. Was she going to die? Fear as deep and cold as the river clawed at her. Jasmine put a hand on her chest and tried again. Finally her mouth began working. Air rushed into her lungs.

Someone grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a sitting position. “Are you okay?” She recognized David’s voice.

Jasmine managed a nod. Where was the man who had run her down? Before she could ask the question, David pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder. “Jasmine, Jasmine, what am I going to do with you?”

She wanted to push him away, but he was holding her tight, as though he would never let her go. Someone else was patting her on the back. Clem. While Jasmine appreciated the concern for her welfare, she was beginning to get irritated. Had they let the robber get away?

“Where is he?”

David lifted his head, the green of his eyes almost completely hidden by his irises. “I thought I’d lost you.” He stood, grabbed her arm, and jerked her to her feet, his face hardening into exasperation. “I may shoot you myself.”