Lightning and Lace (25 page)

Shaken, Bonnie struggled to keep her wits about her. “I suppose so. Why?” Then it hit her hard. They suspected Lester.

Zack wrapped his arm around her waist. “Mama, I have to tell you what happened yesterday—before this happened to Miss Rosie.”

She tried her best to concentrate on what he had to say while he told her of convincing Rosie and Laura to go to the sheriff about Lester’s activities.

“Do all of you think Lester killed Rosie?” Her head pounded—not with pain but with a numbness as though her spirit refused to accept the truth.

“There’s no proof,” Morgan said. “Sylvia was real quick to say that Lester and she were together last evening.”

Bonnie had her own opinion about Sylvia possibly covering up for her husband. “I assume Laura and Daisy now refuse to go to the sheriff.”

“Mama, I asked them, but they’re scared,” Zack said.

“Are you all telling me that whoever did this will get away with it?” She blinked back the tears until later—later when she could grieve in private.

“It’s too soon to reach a hasty conclusion,” Morgan said. “What’s important to us is that our womenfolk are protected.”

She nodded, doing her best to digest every word without succumbing to tears. “Of course, and I’ll speak with Thomas right away.”

“Do you want me to come home to protect you?” Zack said.

As much as Bonnie had longed to hear those words, she also understood her son faced danger, and he didn’t need the responsibility of defending his family in the event of danger. “I want you in Kahlerville with Brother Travis. Thomas can look out for us here.”

“All right, but if you change your mind, I’ll come home. I can use a rifle.”

For a moment she nearly relinquished, but if Lester came calling . . .

No, she refused to think about what the man might do.

Long after they left and she’d spoken to Thomas about staying in Zack’s room for a while, Bonnie sat in the kitchen and remembered all the special things about Rosie. Her life had been hard. When her parents died, she took to prostitution rather than starve—a hard lot for many to understand. She’d been at Martha’s brothel before it burned, along with Laura and Daisy. The reverend and Mama had taken them in, and the three lived at the parsonage until Jenny and Grant built Heaven’s Gate and Sylvia offered to work with the young women. They were young—none of them twenty years old—but years of pain were etched into their eyes. They’d begun this life at fourteen and fifteen while most girls their age sat under the guidance of their mothers.

Repeatedly, each of the young women stated how much they loved Jesus, but they felt unworthy of His blessings or the gift of life. All claimed to want to leave Kahlerville. Now Rosie’s wish had come true. No painful memories or physical abuse would ever plague her.

Tears slipped from Bonnie’s eyes, and she swiped them away. In the confines of her bedroom, she’d weep but not where Michael Paul or Lydia Anne might see. They’d watched her shed too many tears. A hand lightly touched her shoulder.

“Miss Bonnie, the children are outside. You can cry.”

Bonnie reached up to grasp Juanita’s hand. “Thank you. Rosie was so young and beautiful. She had years of life ahead of her, and now she’s gone.”

“It’s always sad when young people die.”

“She gave her life to a ruthless man who had no respect for the living.” Bonnie’s words spouted venom, and she did nothing to conceal it.

“Sheriff Arthur will find him.”

“I pray you’re right.” She glanced up into Juanita’s face. “Thomas will be staying in Zack’s room until this is over.”

Juanita nodded. “He told me. I feel better that he’s close by.” Her eyes clouded.

“I’m afraid I suspect someone.”

“We think the same, Miss Bonnie.”

“Sylvia says Lester was with her on Friday night, which means he couldn’t have killed Rosie.” Morgan massaged neck muscles, then peered up at Travis. They’d been talking in the lawyer’s office for better than an hour. “But that doesn’t mean he was ignorant about it, and it doesn’t mean Sylvia wouldn’t lie to cover for him.”

Travis waited a moment to compose himself. Frustration had his head in a whirl. “How do we find out the truth?”

“The same way we tried before—Laura and Daisy.”

“That’s like milking a bull.” Travis thought twice about his words being fittin’ for a preacher, but too late. He released a heavy sigh. “Rosie’s murder had me awake all night—frettin’ over the others at Heaven’s Gate, Bonnie, Jenny, and anyone else who’s gotten in Lester’s way.”

Morgan leaned in closer. “I talked to Frank and Ellen to see if they’d convince Laura and Daisy to speak up, but Frank doesn’t want Ellen involved. A couple of years ago, Ellen nearly died when a madman attacked her. It was right after the two were married, and Frank’s been real protective ever since. But he did promise that he’d talk to them apart from Ellen.”

“Can’t blame him.” A picture of Bonnie entered his mind.

“I imagine you feel the same way about my sister.”

Travis’s eyes widened. “Not sure I understand.”

“No point denying what the rest of us already see, Brother Travis.”

Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. “I wouldn’t want her to know, and I promise to do better in hiding my feelings.”

“Why? Bonnie has a sparkle in her eyes that’s been gone for a long time. We’re glad. Real glad. You’ve done a miracle with Zack and my sister. Michael Paul and Lydia Anne are happy. I’m obliged.”

Travis grappled with each word. Morgan had no idea about his past, and if the man did, he’d run him out of town with his rear full of buckshot.

“You’re pale, at least what I can see of you.” Amusement spread over Morgan’s face. Travis recalled his own brothers teasing him when he was younger. Morgan wagged a finger at him. “Maybe you need to have a come-to-Jesus meetin’ about Bonnie.”

“I’d never be good enough for your sister.” Travis leaned back in his chair. Talking about her made him hot and cold all over—even weepy like a lovesick schoolboy. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and her heart is pure gold.”

Morgan chuckled. “You have it real bad. I won’t go into all of her faults. You’ll find them out soon enough once you’re married.”

A preacher seldom groped for words, and Travis always thought he could think as fast as a cat could land on its feet. But not when it came to Bonnie Kahler. His mind had just frozen like a creek in winter, and he couldn’t find any thin ice.

“No need to ask me or Grant if we approve. We’ve already decided you and Bonnie should get married as soon as possible.”

Had the whole family been talking about them?

“Now that I’ve embarrassed you and had a good laugh, let’s get back to the business of proving Lester is behind Rosie’s murder.” Morgan’s countenance changed to one of concern as he spoke.

“Seems to me that if we could figure out why he says and does things, then we could understand how he thinks.”

“As I’ve said before, you’d make a good lawyer. I’ve been thinking.” Morgan paused. “I know a man who owes me a favor. Having him follow Lester around makes sense. One of these days, he’s going to get so sure of himself that he slips. And I want to be there to make sure he’s behind bars for a long time.”

“I’m glad Sheriff Arthur appointed a deputy to protect Laura and Daisy. I’m hoping Lester doesn’t know about it.”

“Talked to the sheriff last night about that very thing, and he agreed. Although, like so many folks in this town, he believes Lester can do no wrong because he gives money to the church.”

*****

Bonnie sorted through the leather trunk of Christmas ornaments and decorations. The nativity set that Ben had given her for their first Christmas—the one carved by his great-grandfather from Germany—lay on the top. As she carefully examined each piece wrapped in scraps of old fabric, memories of Ben and the lovely Christmases spent with family flowed gently over her cheeks. Unlike last Christmas, when she despaired until crawling into bed for two days, the tears today became a healing balm. At last she was able to put the past in proper perspective. She’d proven her mettle and made more progress as each day passed. Ben had given her the gift of love and three precious children. Forever she’d love him, yet to continue living in grief was wrong—and selfish. She dreamed about the future and whoever God put in her life. The fear of giving her heart again sometimes gripped her, but God understood her turmoil, and He promised to walk with her until she met Him face to face.

Less than a week remained until Christmas, and the preparations were well under way. She and Juanita worked daily on planning the holiday dinner and baking. Bonnie completed gifts for family and friends and items for the ranch hands, helped Juanita with housecleaning, and assisted the women of the church in taking care of those less fortunate. Thankfully, the many rehearsals for the Christmas Eve service had produced a fine program. The children would act out the first Christmas while the choir supplied the music. Michael Paul and Travis planned to sing “O Come All Ye Faithful,” and Michael Paul would play the part of Joseph. He’d also sing “Silent Night.” Lydia Anne had a white costume for her role as an angel. However, she wanted to be a shepherd. Her little daughter’s tomboyish ways were a source of amusement in the family.

Rarely did a single member of the family have Thanksgiving and Christmas at their home in the same year, but Bonnie had won out this season. Her family understood her desire to make up for previous holidays. Her only regret was that the Kahlers’ celebration on Christmas Day conflicted with hers, but she and the children would visit the other grandparents on Christmas Eve before church.

Christmas Eve services. The reverend and Travis had boarded up the broken windows at church to keep out the weather, and although Lester had boasted of paying for the repairs, nothing had happened. The services would still be meaningful. Nothing stopped good people from celebrating Christ’s birth.

She smiled happily. Then a gray cloud settled above her. Sheriff Arthur had not found out who had killed Rosie. Like her brothers and a few other close friends and family, Bonnie suspected Lester. After all, if Rosie carried Lester’s child, Sylvia might not be so forgiving this time, and she provided the funds for Lester’s many investments.

Bonnie shuddered. Had anyone given thought to Lester ending Sylvia’s life? He’d be in fine shape with no money problems and able to seek out all the women he wanted. Surely the idea had crossed the minds of her brothers and Travis. Reason told her that Lester might get away with Rosie’s passing, but Sylvia held a high position in the community. Folks would not rest until someone was arrested. The thought sickened her until she turned to prayer to rid her mind of another tragedy.

Decorating the house to celebrate the birth of the Savior and contemplating the probability of another woman’s death did not mix well. Bonnie set aside the box of Christmas items until Michael Paul returned from school. The children could help her with the decorations before supper.

*****

“Merry Christmas!” Morgan called the moment he entered the house on Christmas Day, his arms laden with packages. “And I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”

Bonnie had not felt this excitement in a long time. All those she held dear to her heart were gathered near to her.

Casey and the children filed in behind him, carrying food and wearing smiles. Grant and Jenny with their little girls, Mama and the reverend, Juanita and Thomas, Zack, and Travis crowded in the parlor around the nine-foot Christmas tree.

“It’s beautiful,” Mama said.

“Michael Paul and Lydia Anne helped Juanita and me,” Bonnie said. “Of course, we ate more popcorn than we strung on the branches.”

“When do we eat?” Grant said. “I don’t want to feast on a horse, but a couple of pies will do. Of course, the only thing that keeps me in shape is working here or on Morgan’s ranch.”

“You two are teaching your children wonderful manners,” Casey said, and Jenny promptly agreed. Her two sisters-in-law were so different: Casey with her height and vibrant auburn hair and petite Jenny with a mass of thick, dark curls.

“If we’d eat, that would solve the argument,” the reverend said. “I’ll read the Christmas story, and then we can feed this hungry family.”

And the Christmas celebration began.

When everyone had eaten their fill of dinner, they found a place to sit in the parlor around the tree. Bonnie set her gifts aside and watched the others open their packages. She especially adored the looks on the children’s faces as they tore into the wrappings and dipped into their stockings.

“Your turn, Mama,” Zack finally said.

She smiled and opened each package as though it were the most precious gift of all. Zack’s box to hold Ben’s personal belongings brought tears to her eyes. Michael Paul had made a beautiful card and a Christmas tree ornament in school, and Lydia Anne had helped Grandma Kahler crochet a shawl. Bonnie came to the last gift, and she knew without asking that it was from Travis.

The brown paper package felt like a book. Ah, another journal for the one she was fast completing.

“It’s not a journal,” he said.

She glanced up as she gently tugged at the wrapping. “Are you reading my mind?” Don’t flirt. Morgan and Grant will start teasing and never quit.

The clothbound book turned easily in her hand: Information for Authors, by Eleanor Kirk. She opened it. December 25, 1898. To Bonnie, May this book assist you with your writings. Fondly, Travis.

She peered into his face, which appeared anxious with little lines across what she could see of his forehead. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She turned another page, conscious of her entire family’s eyes studying her every move. But she didn’t care. This little book would help her to write properly. All the stories floating around in her head could be written and possibly sent to a publisher in New York City. The thought thrilled her. The first page displayed the author’s name and address. It also listed the author’s fees for reading and giving an opinion of the manuscript. How wonderful. In the preface, the author stated the book’s contents and how it would especially aid the beginning writer. The chapters brought another surge of excitement: the appearance of a manuscript, methods of literary work with paragraphs on inspiration and how to arrange a schedule to write, literary qualities, the varieties of literary work, different types of manuscripts, information about editors, the making of books, and publishers.

“What a perfect gift,” she said.

“I thought you might help me with some of my sermons. I mean after you read it and have the time.”

“I’d be honored to.”

Morgan chuckled. Grant coughed. The reverend covered his mouth, and Zack had a grin that spread from ear to ear. She closed the book and lifted her chin. Too late—the teasing had begun.