Unexpected Riches (Bellingwood Book 13) (8 page)

"No, I'm fine," Polly replied. "I had breakfast this morning."

Lydia waved her off as well.

Melvin and Harold watched the interplay in confusion.

"Did you have plans this morning, Beryl?" Melvin asked.

"No, why?"

"Your friends are here when we're trying to discuss family matters."

Beryl took a deep, measured breath before looking at him. "What family matters are we discussing?"

"That dead boy in our historical family plot," Harold said. As if he realized that he'd said something out loud, he shook his head quickly and shut his mouth.

"Polly was the one who found that poor boy," Beryl said.

Harold nodded. "We've heard about her."

Beryl shook her head. "What is there to discuss? Is he someone you know? I know he was a Carter, but I don't know what family he's from."

"One of those West Coast Carters," Melvin said with derision.

She chuckled. "We have West Coast Carters?"

"Must be from that branch that moved out there," he mumbled.

"A hundred and fifty years ago? You think you can tell that he's a descendant of Lester Carter?" she asked.

"Who else would it be?"

"Where does your Mary live?" Beryl degenerated to sarcasm. She'd given up being nice about this.

"Tennessee," Harold answered.

"What if she'd moved to any state west of Colorado? Would you assume that she was a descendant of Lester?" Beryl kept pushing them. This didn't sound like someone who was scared of her brothers. "What if one of Cyrus's descendants had moved out there? It could be anyone or it could be someone who isn't related to us at all."

"Well, what does the sheriff say about him?" Melvin asked. "He's her husband," he nodded at Lydia, "and your friend. Surely you can get some information from him. It happened on our land!" He sat forward as he worked himself up.

Beryl glanced at Lydia.

"My husband is investigating the death," Lydia said. "But murder investigations take time. They are looking for the young man's family and trying to understand why he was killed, much less buried in your family plot."

"It's a historical plot," Harold repeated. "No one is buried there nowadays."

Lydia nodded in understanding. "As soon as your sister knows something, I'm certain that she'll let you know. If this young man is part of your extended family, I'm also certain that she would be glad for assistance from both of your families in welcoming his family to Iowa. They will need a great deal of love and care in this terrible time."

Beryl looked at Lydia, gulping back laughter. She turned back to her brothers. "I would be glad of your help. You have larger homes than I do."

"You can afford to put them up at the hotel," Melvin said.

"If that's what you'd like me to do, I will," Beryl replied. "Lydia was just recommending that we be hospitable."

"Do either of you have any information about the early families of Bellingwood?" Polly asked. "Are there any documents, pictures or other items that might have been handed down to you? Things that weren't copied for the centennial?"

Harold looked at his brother. "You have papa's things."

"I haven't been through any of those boxes in years," Melvin said. He turned to Polly. "Why do you ask? What does that have to do with any of this?"

"It just seems to me that if this young man is from another branch of the family and you have old information, we might be able to find something that connects it all." Polly shrugged. "And besides, since the sesquicentennial is coming up this summer, the planning committee will probably want as much information as they can get. I just purchased the Springer House and discovered that it was built in nineteen sixteen as an inn. The son of Hiram Bell built it. There's got to be more information about those early years if we can just get people to open up their old trunks, scrapbooks and files."

Melvin nodded, thinking about what she said. "I could dig those out." He looked at his sister. "But I don't have time to look through them."

"I'd love to do that," Beryl said. "I'd love it."

"Come on out and pick them up. Give me a day or two to bring the boxes out of the closet."

"Thank you," she gushed. "I had no idea you still had those boxes."

"It's just old papers and pictures, but if you find something that the town would like to have, give it to them." Melvin put his hand on his brother's knee and pushed himself to a standing position. "We should go now and leave you three to do whatever you were planning to do. Come on, Brother."

Melvin stepped away from the chair and Harold stood up. "Thank you for the coffee, Beryl. It was nice to see you. Pat says I should ask you to Sunday dinner some one of these days. It's mostly just the two of us, but sometimes the kids are home."

"I'd love to come," Beryl said. She waved at Polly and Lydia to stay seated and followed her brothers to the front door.

Polly took a deep breath and relaxed. "That was interesting."

"They did better than expected," Lydia said. "Melvin even got nice there toward the end." She grinned at Polly. "Must be because there was a pretty girl in the room."

The front door thudded closed and Beryl let out a shrill howl as she came back to the living room. "What in the world was that all about?"

"I think you're supposed to call Aaron and get the scoop before you talk to your brothers again," Polly said.

Beryl scowled. "Bet my little pink ass."

"Will you go get the boxes from your brother?"

"Maybe." Beryl sat back down in her chair, scooping little Hem into her arms. "If you go with me."

Lydia and Polly looked at each other, trying to decide which one of them she was talking to.

"You're both going with me. Then I'll take you out to lunch somewhere fancy." Beryl stroked Hem's head. "Please?"

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Look at this, Miss Giller." Tommy Garwood waved frantically from the back of the classroom.

"Yes, Tommy," she said. "Please stand if you would like to speak."

The young boy stood up beside his desk and put his hand up, "Miss Giller?"

"Go ahead, Tommy. What is so important that you feel you must interrupt reading time?"

"The sheriff and his deputy just rode past. Do you think there might have been another bank robbery?"

She sighed and pointed back to his desk. "Tom Garwood, if you spent your time reading rather than looking out the window, you'd find that your exam scores would significantly increase."

"But Miss Giller," he protested. "Everybody is heading toward town. Just look outside."

Polly glanced at the window and saw that he was correct. There was quite a commotion on the street going past the schoolhouse. Iowa wasn't the Old West any longer. Bellingwood was civilized now.

"You all stay where you are," she commanded. As she strode toward the back of the room, Polly stopped to press Tommy Garwood back into his seat. "That includes you."

Polly stopped in the doorway at the back of the room and took her cloak from the hook on the wall. She turned back to the class. "Miss Heater, you are in charge while I step out. Class, I expect that you will all listen to her and remain quiet. Understood?"

Twenty-five sets of wide eyes looked at her while their heads nodded in unison. Polly threw her cloak across her shoulders, buttoned it at the neck and drew on the gloves that she'd stuffed in its pockets this morning. She rushed out the front door of the schoolhouse and stopped the first person who walked past her.

"What's happening?"

"There's a gunfight in front of the bank," the young man said.

Polly stepped back, shaken at his words. While she stood there, two men on horses flew past, one turning in his saddle to shoot at whoever was following them. She was dumbfounded. How could this be happening in Bellingwood, Iowa?

In moments, the sheriff rode past again, his gun raised and pointed at the two who were fleeing. The crowd that had gathered to watch the excitement surged toward her and Polly attempted to get back to the safety of the steps of her schoolhouse. She tripped and slammed down on the ice-cold, snow packed ground.

"Polly!" She heard a familiar voice as she was lifted from the ground and she tried to focus on their face.

"Polly! Are you okay?"

"What?" Polly finally shook herself awake and found that Henry was holding her in his arms. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Look around," he said.

She tentatively took in her surroundings and realized that they were on the floor of her bedroom. "What happened?" She had a good idea what had happened and felt a little embarrassed by the whole thing.

"I have no idea how you did it," he said, "but you fell out of bed. Are you okay?"

Polly laughed out loud and couldn't stop herself from chuckling. "I fell out of bed? How?"

He pulled her in for a hug and then let her go. "I told you, I don't know. But it might have something to do with those critters who demand that they deserve most of our bed. I felt you pull a blanket away from me and the next thing I knew there was a thud and you were gone."

"You got here really fast," she said. "I didn't even have time to..." Polly stopped talking and thought about her dream. "You got over to my side really fast."

"You didn't have time to what?" he asked.

"Nothing, I guess. I was having a weird dream about being a teacher in a one-room schoolhouse. There were bank robbers shooting at the sheriff. Everybody was riding horses or walking. I tried to get back into the school where I'd be safe, but I tripped and fell down." She rubbed the side of her head. "And I bumped my head."

"Bank robbers on horseback?" Henry smiled at her. "You've spent way too much time reading about Bellingwood’s history." He stood up and held out his hand. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Polly took the proffered hand and let him pull her to her feet. "I think I'm fine. That was weird. The last time I fell out of bed I had to have been in elementary school. And I kinda did that on purpose."

He looked at her sideways. "You fell out of bed on purpose? You were a strange child. Why would you do that?"

"All of my friends told stories of how they fell out of bed. I couldn't figure out why they would want to do that, but one year it seemed like it was happening all the time. So I set myself a trap. I slept clear on the edge of the bed, just to see if I could fall out. The first night I didn't, so I moved even closer the next night. It took three nights before I finally hit the floor. I woke up and my butt hurt. I decided that was stupid, so I didn't do it again."

"Did your parents know what you were doing?"

Polly shook her head. "They didn't even know that it happened and I wasn't about to tell them. I didn't even tell my friends at school." She sat down on the bed and pushed one of the cats back into the middle. "Unless those animals were pushing me, I still don't understand why I fell off tonight. I don't toss and turn that badly, do I?"

Henry walked to the bathroom. "Not since those trials got over last fall. You're back to your regular sleep-like-the-dead sleep."

"Did you do this to me?" Polly asked the animals. "Because I don't want to worry about doing this ever again." She rubbed her hand down Leia's back. "If you fall off the bed, you wake up enough to get your front paws down first. From now on, you get the outside."

Obiwan wriggled his way across the bed toward her.

"And you," she said. "I thought you were supposed to be my protector. How could you let that happen?" Polly bent over and kissed the top of his head. "I still love you," she whispered. "I still love all of you."

Henry came back out with a glass of water in his hand. "Drink?"

"No," Polly said with a half laugh. "At the rate I'm going tonight, I could very easily wet the bed. What in the heck?"

"Let it go," he said. "It was just one of those things." He drained the glass and opened the door of his bedside table and put it on the shelf. They'd learned to keep those types of things out of the reach of the animals.

Henry sat down on the bed, then turned to her. "But I think that maybe you should tuck up close to me for the rest of the night. Let the animals and me keep you where you belong."

Once they were settled, he switched the light off and turned to wrap his arms around Polly. She scooted into the protection of his body and slowed her breathing, trying to relax again.

"It was a strange dream," she said. "I wonder why I was a teacher."

"Because you love your kids," he replied. "So was Aaron Merritt the sheriff?"

Polly nodded. "Yes, he was. I can't wait to tell him that I saw him riding through town on horseback."

Henry chuckled. "With guns blazing. That would have been a sight to see."

~~~

"I should have a phone of my own," Rebecca announced at breakfast the next morning.

Polly glanced at Henry and then sat down at the table. "Oh you should? What makes you say that?"

"I've been thinking about this and since all of my friends have phones, I could keep in touch with them. This is how we communicate, you know." Rebecca held up her index finger. Before anyone could interrupt, she held up a second finger. "I would always be able to let you know where I am and what I'm doing." The third finger flipped up. "If I was in trouble, I could call for help." When she raised her fourth finger, she hesitated. "You'd always know where I was with the GPS thing on there." By the time Rebecca flipped her thumb up, she had lost ground. "It would be educational. I could look things up in a hurry and never be without information."

"I see," Polly said. She turned to Henry. "Do you have anything you want to say?"

He chuckled and backed away into the kitchen. "I'm just going to pour another cup of coffee and watch. Heath, do you want more toast?"

Heath stood up. "Nah. I'm going to get my stuff and get out of here. I told Jason that I'd pick him up at his house. Eliseo's working early and has to be gone for a while this morning." He leaned over to Rebecca. "Good luck with this."

"Chicken. I thought you had my back," she said.

"Uh huh." Heath took off before she could corner him any further.

"Don't say anything now," Rebecca said. "I want you to take some time to think about this. No rash decisions or anything."

"Oh honey," Polly replied. "There isn't anything rash about my decision. The answer is no."

"But why?" Rebecca whined. "I gave you well thought-out reasons why I should have one. The least you can do is give me a thought-out response."

Polly chuckled. "First of all. I don't owe you anything, much less a response to your whining. But secondly, if you'd slow your roll, I have plenty of good reasons for not giving you a cell phone right now."

Rebecca slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not getting a cell phone. That's all that matters. Everything else is just blah, blah, blah."

Henry's phone rang. He looked at the number and flipped it open. "Hayden? Is everything okay?"

Both Polly and Rebecca looked up at him. He listened for a moment and then nodded to them that things were fine. "Sure," he said. "I can make time today. Lunch?" Henry walked away into his office as he continued to talk.

"What's that about?" Rebecca asked.

"I'm not sure. But Henry will tell me later." Polly sat forward. "However, you and I aren't finished with this conversation. Don't you dare ask a question like this and then get nasty about my response without giving me an opportunity to talk about it with you."

"It doesn't matter. The answer is no and you're always in charge."

Polly felt herself starting to seethe. This girl was as sweet and wonderful as they came, but when she didn't get her way she had a tendency to slide off the cliff into raging adolescent rottenness.

She took a long, slow deep breath and shut her eyes. Part of her wanted Rebecca to run away to her room and head for school so she wouldn't have to confront the beast. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed long enough that would happen.

"Yes," Polly said. "I am in charge and I'm working on not screaming at you for your bad behavior right now. You're going to want to walk away from me for a minute."

Rebecca stood up and headed for the dining room. "
You
could have walked away," she muttered.

Polly let her go, even though every fiber of her being wanted to yank her back into the seat and read her the riot act at the top of her lungs. Tears squirted out of her eyes. She loved Rebecca so much and to have her act so disrespectfully incensed Polly. She dropped her head into her hands and tried to shut the world away.

"Are you okay?" Henry asked. He put his hand on her back. "Where did Rebecca go?"

"I don't know and I don't care right now. That little shit."

"She didn't like your answer?"

"No and she didn't want to hear why I gave her that answer." Polly shook her head and wiped tears out of her eyes. "What's going on with Hayden?"

"He's fine." Henry sat down at the table beside her. "It's actually kind of cool."

"What's that?"

"He wants me to talk to him about his future. He's been applying to medical schools and responses are starting to come back. He told me he isn't sure what to do next."

"And he wants you to help him figure it out? That's awesome."

Henry leaned in. "I don't have any idea what I'll say, but if all he needs to do is have someone listen while he talks through it, I can be that person." He took her hand. "I don't know how to describe the feelings I'm having right now. The boy doesn't realize that I'd walk through fire for him and when he asks me for anything, I'll give it to him."

"This is what it's always going to be like, isn't it," Polly said, her eyes filling with tears again. "We want to toss one in a snow drift and another one makes us so happy we can't describe it."

"I'll be honest," Henry said. "He could ask me for the money to pay for medical school today and I'd figure out how to find it."