Margaret Brownley (29 page)

“Lucy,” he said softly.

She raised her lashes, meeting his gaze.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, at least not physically. All I want to do is expose them. Strip away their respectability. Make them face up to what they did. Is that so wrong?”

She didn’t know how to answer that question. Pastor Wells often preached God’s word on forgiveness, but it never really related to her personal experience. Forgiveness came easily to her, but forgiving a thoughtless word or gesture wasn’t the same as forgiving what David endured.

“I don’t know how I can help,” she said.

“You can start by making a list of men who fit the age group, men who were living here twenty years ago.”

“That’s a big job,” she said. “There could be fifty or more men who fit that description. And how do you know they haven’t moved away?”

“If that’s the case, and I’m right about Barnes, that would mean that Doc Myers is responsible for Barnes’s disappearance.”

She shook her head. Committing a horrible, thoughtless act as a teen was one thing. But purposely harming a man as an adult was something else. “We don’t know that anything
has
happened to Barnes,” she said. “He could have left of his own accord. Maybe he has . . . what do you call it . . . amnesia? Isn’t that possible?”

“Anything’s possible, but the timing seems too coincidental.”

She couldn’t argue with him there. “I was at the doctor’s house the night Barnes disappeared,” she said, “visiting Monica. I never saw Barnes.”

“You weren’t there all night, but your friend was. She would know if Barnes was there. Will you help me?”

She wanted to help him, but still she held back. “I . . .”

He tilted his head and searched her face as if trying to reach into her thoughts. “Is that a positive or a negative?”

A sense of uneasiness washed over her. How could she say no to him? How could she not? “I’ll talk to Monica.” She didn’t want to commit to any more than that and he didn’t press her, though his burning gaze continued to bore into her.

“You mustn’t tell your friend about anything I told you. Until we know the whole story, it would be best if you don’t tell anyone. If Myers is responsible—”

“He’s not,” she said.

“I hope you’re right.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. His gaze traveled from her eyes to her lips. As if to catch himself, he quickly released her hands and moved away. “Meet me here tomorrow.”

“All right.”

“Don’t say a word of this to anyone.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “I hope for all our sakes that Barnes is alive.”

His nod was followed by a tentative smile. “Tomorrow,” he whispered. Something in his voice made her heart quicken. His eyes glowed with light from the flickering fire.

She’d known Barnes and Doc Myers all her life. It was hard to imagine them capable of putting a small boy in harm’s way. And was it possible that the doctor
was
responsible for Barnes’s disappearance, as David suggested? She shuddered at the thought. She didn’t know what to believe or even who to trust, but seeing the concern on David’s face, she knew to trust
him
.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, and the warmth of his quick smile followed her all the way outside.

Twenty-two

When posing for her wedding portrait, a bride’s expression
should be demure, never triumphant. A bridegroom should look
composed, his face void of anything suggesting lust, eagerness, or anticipation.

– M
ISS
G
ERTRUDE
H
ASSLEBRINK, 1878

L
eaving the mission behind, Lucy drove straight to Ma’s boardinghouse. She wanted to go home in the worst possible way. It had been a long hard day. She still couldn’t believe that Doc Myers or even Barnes was capable of willfully putting a young boy’s life in danger.

According to Caleb, Monica had returned home and, for that, Lucy was grateful. The last thing she wanted was to come face-to-face with Doc Myers. She wasn’t even certain she could look the man in the face again after today.

Ma greeted Lucy at the door with a buttery smile, her white hair pulled back into a neat bun. “Come in, come in.”

She led Lucy to her tidy parlor, her wide hips swaying from side to side. The rules for her boardinghouse were posted on the wall: No drinking, no cussing, and no courting. “No women” was an unspoken rule of the past, but in recent years Ma had allowed first Sarah and now Monica to board there. Nothing improper could happen under her watchful eye—improper covering everything from meaningful looks to holding hands.

The smell of freshly baked pastry wafted from the kitchen.

“Sarah told me you’re selling baked goods to help rebuild the church,” Lucy said.

Ma nodded and patted her crisp white apron. “My peach pie even got that old skinflint Appleby to open his wallet.” She rolled her eyes. “It would have been easier to pull teeth out of a bull. Whoever said a fool and his money are easily parted never met Appleby.”

Lucy laughed. Ma said what others only dared to think.

“I’ll tell Monica you’re here.”

Moments later Monica floated down the stairs and greeted Lucy with a hug. Lucy was surprised at how well Monica looked, how absolutely radiant. Not one to pay much attention to how she looked, Monica had obviously taken great pains with her appearance today.

Her blue dress draped around her hips in delicate folds, adding pleasing curves to her slender figure. Her blond hair was pulled back in a riot of curls from the crown of her head to her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes aglow. If it weren’t for the bandage that showed beneath the thin sleeves of her dress, no one would ever suspect she had been so recently injured.

“I’m so glad you came,” Monica said. Her voice was still rough around the edges from the smoke. “I have something to tell you.”

She led Lucy to the red velvet sofa and sat, motioning for Lucy to join her with a pat on the cushion by her side. “Are you all right? You look rather pale.”

Lucy sat stiffly at the edge of the sofa. She should have known Monica would sense her distress. She forced herself to relax and even managed a smile.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted. “I’ve been so worried about you and the church and . . . the night I visited you, you still had that rasping cough.”

It was obvious that Monica was about to pop with exciting news, and normally Lucy would have insisted upon hearing it at once. Today, however, she had something more pressing on her mind. If only she could figure out how to ask about the activity at the doctor’s house the night of Barnes’s disappearance without making Monica suspicious.

“My throat still fells scratchy, but the doctor . . .” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “He took good care of me.”

Choosing her words carefully, Lucy asked, “Did . . . he stay with you all night?”

Monica’s lashes flew upward. “What a question.” A coy smile touched her lips. “I assure you, he was a perfect gentleman at all times.”

With a start, Lucy realized Monica had misunderstood her. “I didn’t mean—”

Monica laughed. “Of course you did,” she teased. “I can tell by your face that you’re dying to know what, if anything, happened, while I stayed at his house. As if anything could happen beneath the watchful eyes of his housekeeper.” She sighed with obvious regret. “After you left, Dr. Myers and I played checkers and then Mr. Barnes arrived—”

“Mr. Barnes was at the doctor’s house?” Lucy exclaimed.

If Monica noticed the alarm in Lucy’s voice, she gave no indication. “Just for a couple of minutes. Isn’t it strange how Mr. Barnes disappeared? He was perfectly fine when he left Leonard’s house—I mean, Dr. Myers’s house.” Monica reddened.

Leonard
. Monica called him by his Christian name. No one in town did that. Lucy came here originally to help David, but now it was concern for Monica that forced the next question. “Did you happen to hear what they discussed?”

Monica blinked. “Who?”

“Why, Dr. Myers and Mr. Barnes, of course.”

“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “I think Leonard said something about wanting to advertise in the newspaper.”

Lucy’s mind raced. It was a logical explanation on the surface but the more she considered it, the more improbable it seemed. Dr. Myers was the only doctor in town and had more patients than he could handle. Why would he advertise for more? Then, too, it wasn’t in Barnes’s nature to put himself out for anyone. Traveling to someone’s home to conduct business was the last thing he would do. Barnes’s late night visit to the doctor’s house was about David. It had to be. Nothing else made sense. The question was—who else had Barnes visited that night?

Monica tapped Lucy on the arm as if to pull her back to the present. “So are you happy or disappointed that I’m still a virtuous woman?”

Lucy laughed. She hadn’t the slightest doubt that Monica would remain chaste until the day she wed. “At least you don’t have to sit in the front row at church.”

Monica giggled. A glint of sunlight caught Lucy’s attention and she stared at Monica’s hand.

Following Lucy’s gaze, Monica beamed as she wiggled her fingers to show off her shiny new ring.

Lucy took hold of Monica’s hand for a closer look. The gold band was engraved with a single heart.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you. Dr. Myers . . . Leonard . . . asked me to marry him.”

Dropping Monica’s hand, Lucy took a quick sharp breath. She’d prayed Monica and the doctor would get together, but that was before she knew what he did to David. He may have also done harm to Barnes, though she didn’t want to believe it.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say something?” Monica prodded. “Isn’t it customary for one’s best friend to be happy for her?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy stammered. “It’s just, it’s . . . so sudden.”

“For him, maybe, but not for me.” Monica folded her hands in her lap. “You know how long I’ve loved him. It’s a miracle. There’s no other way to describe it. I still can’t believe it. What Sarah says is true. God does work through bad things to create miracles.”

“B-bad things?” Lucy stammered.

“I’m talking about the fire. Who would have thought that the church burning down would bring Leonard and me together?”

“Oh, Monica . . .” Not knowing what to say, she wrapped her arms around her friend and hugged her tight. Monica had carried a torch for the doctor for years. But given her love of children, learning how her fiancé had put a young boy’s life in danger would surely break her heart.

David had warned her about the dangers of saying anything. Until they knew for sure what happened to Barnes, Lucy would have to hold her tongue, however much she hated doing so.

Monica pulled away. “Are you all right?”

Before Lucy could answer, Ma walked into the room carrying a tray that she set on the table in front of them. “It’s such a hot day, I thought you could both use some lemonade,” she said. She winked at Lucy. “I suppose you heard I’m going to lose another boarder.”

“Yes, Monica told me,” Lucy said, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing.

Ma gave her a knowing look. “Why, Lucy Fairbanks. Is that envy I hear in your voice? Mark my words, your day will come. God made a lid for every pot and somewhere there’s a man for you.”

Monica laughed and squeezed Lucy’s hand. “Let’s hope your ‘lid’ is somewhere in Texas and not in some far off exotic land like China. Or you’ll never find him.”

A hot flush crept over Lucy’s face. “This is one pot that can do without a lid,” she said. “However, you, my friend, need a place to wed and it’ll be awhile before they’ll rebuild the church.” With a little luck, it would take weeks, maybe even months.

“Don’t be silly,” Ma said. “If they can raise a barn in a day, building a church shouldn’t take that much more time.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” Monica said. “Pastor Wells came to visit me and he told me that the church is the people. That means we don’t have to worry about where we have our wedding.” Her cheeks turned a most becoming pink. “Leonard doesn’t want to wait. He wants us to get married as soon as possible.”

“What’s the hurry?” Lucy asked, her apprehension increasing by the minute. “The traditional length of a betrothal is a year.”

Hand on her chest, Monica pulled back in mock surprise. “When have
you
ever concerned yourself with tradition?” She shook her head. The fond look on her face gave way to melancholy. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Still reeling from news of Monica’s impending marriage, Lucy wasn’t sure she heard right. “Why are you going to miss me? Married women can still have friends.”

“Leonard wants to move away from Rocky Creek. Not right away, of course, but eventually. He says his practice is getting too big for him to handle now that he’s about to take a wife. We’ll probably go to Houston.”

Lucy’s mouth went dry. “But Houston is so much larger than Rocky Creek.” According the
Lone Star Tribune
, Houston’s population was well over a million.

“Yes, but he would be one of many doctors.”

“But . . . but this is your home.”