Walker's Wedding (29 page)

S
arah opened her eyes early the next morning, awakening slowly. Her hand automatically reached for Walker's body beside her. Filled with the usual sense of disappointment, she got out of bed and padded across the floor. She couldn't go on this way. Her stomach hurt, her eyes were swollen from the smoke, and the whole situation was impossible. She wanted to go home, home to Wadsy and Papa and Abraham.

By sunup she had dressed, drunk a cup of hot tea, and packed her valise. As she walked to the barn, dawn was barely breaking. Her eyes took in the site and stench of the burnt structure, the barn animals grazing in the corral. What a dreadful shame that someone like Caleb could do so much destruction without retribution.
God, please open Walker's eyes before Caleb harms him.

Hitching the buggy wasn't easy, but she'd seen S.H. do it numerous times. She found extra tack in a small shed near the house, and the carriage rattled out of the courtyard before anyone in the main house stirred.

The deposit book was the key to the mystery, but it was gone. Maybe Walker was right. Maybe she should have stayed and written her novel and forgotten all about her suspicions. She loved the babies she was carrying. How would she ever relinquish them to a man who did not trust their mother?

The train station was deserted when she pulled up. Unloading her valise, she rested it on the platform and purchased a ticket. “What time does the train arrive?”

The clerk consulted his pocket watch. “You got about half an hour.”

She walked back to the buggy, wondering what to do with it. She supposed she could tie the mare to the bank post. Caleb would notice it and see that it was returned to Walker.

Her gaze moved to the bank. Or she could tell Caleb that he'd won, that she was leaving. Wouldn't he be pleased?

The McKay buggy was waiting in front of the bank when Caleb arrived a few minutes later. The whistling banker turned the corner, his jaw dropping when he saw Sarah sitting on the seat. Color drained from his face. “You're not…?”

Sarah smiled. “Dead? Nope, sound as a dollar. Sorry.”

A shutter closed over his features. “Hallucinating again, Sarah? Perhaps the doctor can give you something to ease your discomfort.” A sly grin crept across his face. “Why don't you cross the street? Doc will be in his office at any time.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Climbing out of the buggy with some difficulty, she followed him into the bank.

“The bank doesn't open until nine.”

“My train leaves in twenty minutes. I can't wait for business hours.”

A smug look registered on his face. “You're leaving?”

“I am.” She followed him to his office and watched as he stripped out of his coat and loosened his tie.

Seating himself behind the desk, he glared at her. “Dare I hope you'll be gone for a long while?”

“Ooooh. The real Caleb surfaces.” She perched on the edge of his desk. “Yes, I'm leaving, and I don't plan to return except for occasional visits to my child.”

“Does Walker know you're leaving?”

“He wouldn't care if he did.”

“How sad.” The banker looked anything but remorseful. “What do you want, Sarah?”

“What do you think I want?” He knew that she knew; the guilt in his eyes was proof enough. Should she tell him how she knew or just let him wonder?

Perspiration beaded his upper lip, although the stove had not been started. “I'm a busy man.” He checked his watch. “Didn't you say you had a train to catch?”

“You win, Caleb.”

Leaning back in his chair, he smiled. “Of course. Did you ever doubt it?”

“Last night when you locked me in the barn. I thought I was going to die.”

His smile never wavered.

“And I would have, if Walker hadn't heard Diamond's cries and come to investigate.”

Caleb shrugged. “Walker's always been lucky. What is it that you want, Sarah? Surely you know by now that your efforts to convince Walker that I'm stealing from him aren't going to work. He doesn't believe you.”

“No, he doesn't. You're right. He accepts your word over mine. It's hard to find friends like that. Loyal.”

“Yes, it is.” Caleb turned to the stack of papers on his desk.

“But when I show him the deposit book, I imagine he'll change his mind.”

Caleb glanced up.

“You know, the one you keep in the secret compartment of your buggy?” When he paled, she smiled. “Oooh,” she mocked. “That ol' book.”

The banker's eyes hardened. “What do you want, Jezebel?”

“Ahhh, Jezebel.” She pretended to ponder the request. “Correct me if I'm wrong. Just last night, wasn't I ‘dearest girl' and ‘my sweet'?”

Shoving away from the desk, Caleb got to his feet. His hand hovered near the middle desk drawer and for a fleeting moment she wondered if he had a gun. It was a little late to think of that, but she supposed it was possible. A banker would be prepared to defend his establishment.
Keeping an eye on his right hand, she said softly, “Last night, when you and Walker went to the shed, I searched your buggy and found the briefcase.”

“So? My briefcase is always locked.” He patted his vest pocket. “The key never leaves my person.”

“True, but I have my ways of unlocking things without a key.”

Eyes narrowing, he took a threatening step forward. She backed a step away. “I have the book, Caleb. You're stealing from Walker.”

The book was burned cinders, but he would never know. She would simply let the knowledge of his sins eat away at him day by day, until he was driven mad with wondering when and if she would convince Walker of his crime. She, on the other hand, would be eating Wadsy's cherry pies and growing fat and lazy with Walker's children. She might not have the home she wanted, the babies she carried within her, or the man she loved, but she would have the satisfaction of knowing that Caleb would never have a moment's peace.

He lunged at her and she jumped back, fear rippling through her. He was stronger than she was; he could quickly overpower her and shoot her, if he dared, and then take her somewhere outside of town and bury her body. No one would ever know what had happened to her. “Tell me what you want,” he gritted between clenched teeth.

“I want you to tell Walker the truth. That you're embezzling money from him—that you have been for years.” If nothing else came of this madness, Walker would know that she hadn't lied to him. That she was in her right mind.

Turning back to the desk, he said, “I'll do nothing of the sort.”

“Then you admit you have been stealing from him?”

“I admit nothing.” Pulling the drawer open, he removed a small hand pistol.

Sarah swallowed. Should she run? Scream? It was early; no one was moving about yet.
You're foolish, Sarah. You shouldn't have come here alone to prove a point. You should have gotten on the train and gone home.

Leveling the gun at her, Caleb motioned her out the doorway.

“Don't be a fool,” she warned. “Don't add murder to theft.”

Shoving her out of the room and into the bank foyer, he glanced out the front window, apparently gauging his next move. “Open the door.”

Shielding her stomach, Sarah edged backward. “If anything happens to me, Walker will know that you're responsible. He might not care about me, but he does care about his child—”

“Shut up. You talk too much.” He backed her through the door, pausing to look up and down the deserted street. Nothing stirred.

She had one choice, and that was to make a break for it before he could stop her. She was fast, able to outrun all the other girls in her boarding school. She had an array of blue ribbons from sporting events in her room in Boston. But now she was thirty pounds heavier and pregnant.

Still, she turned suddenly to run, but Caleb was faster. Pinning her squirming body against the wall, he pressed close, his breath hot on her cheek. “Don't mess with me, Sarah!” Jerking her arm behind her back, he hissed, “I'd just as soon shoot you right here, woman.”

“You wouldn't dare.” She moaned as he twisted her arm tighter.

“What do I have to lose?”

“You're still able to convince Walker that you're innocent. If you shoot me, there'll be witnesses. You won't be able to talk your way out of this one.”

“Witnesses?” He pretended to assess the danger and then grinned. “Seems that the town is deserted this morning. Pity.” Thrusting her away from the wall, he herded her out toward the waiting buggy. She struggled to break his hold, but he was stronger than she would have guessed.

“Why, Caleb? Why would you do this to Walker?” She panted, out of breath. “He's your best friend. He won't hear of your deceiving him. He's willing to risk his future happiness because of you.”

“You're breaking my heart. If I had a violin, I'd play it.”

“At least tell me why. What can that hurt? You're obviously a big, mean brute who's going to do me harm.”

“It seems certain bank funds are missing, funds I am held accountable for. I intend to pay Walker back, so don't fret your pretty little head about that.”

“When?” She grunted when he shoved her up into the buggy, tipping her cumbersome body onto the seat.

His face closed. “I've incurred a few gambling debts lately. But that will change—and soon. When it does, I'll return the money and Walker will never be the wiser.”

“He's not stupid.” She twisted to release his hold. “If anything happens to me, he'll have his books audited.”

“My dear, when word of your demise reaches him, nothing will matter for a time. By then the money will be replaced with no one the wiser.”

“Walker doesn't love me! He isn't going to mourn my death!”

“You little fool. You think you're so smart, but you know nothing. He loves you. It's as plain as day in his eyes.” Caleb sprang aboard the buggy and reached for the reins.

“You're wrong. He only wants the baby,” she said, fighting against the temptation to believe him. “You kill me and you're breaking a commandment, Caleb. Think of your eternity.”

“I'll make my peace with God later.” Caleb slid her a sideways glance. “You'd best make your peace now, Sarah. In another few minutes, you'll meet your Maker.”

W
alker squinted against the bright sunlight, groaning when he realized the hour. The fire had kept him up most of the night. He had fallen into bed a little before sunup.

He lay there for a moment thinking about his dream. In it he was holding his son, standing beside Sarah and looking out over Spring Grass. It was summer and the grasses were blowing, the sun hot on his face. He held Sarah's hand, and she was cradling a child, laughing up at him, only the baby she held was a girl.

His hand absently felt Sarah's side of the bed. He thought about the opportunities that he'd had lately to end the dispute—when he felt the baby kicking against his hand…staring at Sarah's smoky cheeks, so thankful she was alive as he wiped the soot from her tearstained face. He imagined the feel of her dancing in his arms, could picture her quick and easy smiles, and remembered the smell of burned corn bread and their laughter over the drunken chickens. He smiled at her bulldog tenacity and how much she wanted to make the marriage work.

He thought about the two near-fatal accidents coming one on top of the other. He could have lost her. Would his anger have been worth it? She'd done wrong, but he'd also done wrong by not forgiving her. She wasn't anything like Trudy. Sarah had a heart of gold, and if he continued to hold her at bay, he would be a fool.

The hall clock struck eight when he came downstairs—midmorning
for him. Flo was busy in the washhouse, her face flushed with exertion.

“Where's Sarah?”

The housekeeper doused a shirt in the rinse water. “Still asleep, I imagine. Yer gettin' a late start, ain't you?”

“Yes. I'm going to fix a tray and have breakfast with her.”

“Suit yourself. Want me to fry bacon?”

“No, I'll find something.”

A little while later, he rapped at their bedroom door, balancing a tray in one hand. When Sarah didn't call out, he rapped again. Still no answer.

Pushing the door open with his boot, he was surprised to see that the bed was made. His eyes scanned the empty room. Maybe she was with Potster—but he'd seen the ranch hand cleaning the bunkhouse windows earlier, alone. He stepped into the dressing room. It was in disarray, but she wasn't there.

Walker carried the tray back down to the kitchen, glancing up when Flo came in.

“She wasn't hungry, huh? That's not like her. Are you two quarreling again?”

Walker shook his head. “She wasn't there. You haven't seen her this morning?”

“No. I assumed she was plumb worn out from all the doin's last night. Are you sure she isn't in her room?”

“She's not there.”

They searched the house, to no avail. Walker caught a glimpse of S.H. from around the corner of the house as he was heading for the charred remains of the barn. He opened the back screen door and called, “S.H., have you seen Sarah around anywhere?”

“No. Been inspecting the damage.”

“What did we lose?”

“Everything that was in the barn is gone—the hay, the tack, and the buggy. At least the horses made it out safely. Barn's gonna hafta be rebuilt.”

Walker frowned. How could they have lost the buggy? It wasn't in the barn last night. He'd taken it out to mend the top and hadn't put it back.

“Are you sure about the buggy, S.H.? It shouldn't have been in the barn.”

S.H. shrugged. “Well, it's not here.”

“What do you mean it's not here?”

“If you didn't put it in the barn, I don't know where it is.”

Flo came out on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron.

Walker glanced at her, and then turned back to S.H. “Check the shed and see if the extra tack is missing.”

“Why?” the foreman asked.

“Maybe Sarah decided to use the buggy this morning.” That seemed unlikely; she had never ventured anywhere on her own. Unless she had decided to run away. Walker's stomach churned at the thought.

Flo frowned. “Where would she have gone?”

“Check on that tack, S.H.”

S.H. returned in a few moments, shaking his head. “You're right. The tack is gone. She must have took the buggy.”

Walker closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he said, “I need a saddle, S.H.”

“I'll scare one up—where are ya goin'?”

“To town. I'm afraid she might have decided to go back to Boston.”

“Land sakes!” Flo exclaimed. “Why would she do that?”

“Because I'm a blind fool, Flo, and I just realized it.”

S.H. disappeared and returned with a saddle, a blanket, and tack. Walker saddled Diamond and swung aboard, allowing the animal free rein. Dread washed over him as he rode out. The fall wind cut through his light jacket when he tethered the horse at the train station. Eldon Snides looked up, grinning when he saw him.

“Walker. What can I do for you today?”

“Did my wife board a train this morning?”

“Mrs. McKay?” Eldon scratched his head. “I just came on duty.” He peered over the passenger list. “Ah, here it is: Sarah McKay.”

“Was the ticket to Boston?”

“Yes, sir—'pears it was. Train left a couple hours ago.”

Walker turned away from the window. “Why would she leave without telling me? She wouldn't walk away from the chance to have a place in her child's life.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Thanks, Eldon.”

When Walker reached the Logans' store, he realized he was walking the horse instead of riding her. He secured the animal to the hitching post and then sat down on the bench outside the mercantile to gather his thoughts. Should he go after her?

Lowell Livingston would fight tooth and nail before he let Sarah return after all that Walker had put her through. He heard the door open and hoped Denzil would leave him alone with his pain. “Mornin', Walker.”

“Morning, Denzil.” He started to get up, but Denzil motioned him back down.

“Sit a spell.” The storekeeper sat down beside him, taking out cigarette papers.

“I'm not good company right now, Denzil.”

Denzil eyed him knowingly. “Female problems, huh?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well…” Denzil rolled a cigarette, licked the paper, and sealed it shut. “You know I'm not one to pry.” He struck a match, letting it burn. “It's just a downright shame that it had ta happen to ya twice.”

Bad news spread quicker than poison ivy. Before long, the whole town would know about Sarah's sudden departure. Folks laughing behind his back, snickering.
That McKay can't keep a woman,
they'd say.
Wonder what's wrong with him?
Worse yet, he'd lost the only woman he'd ever loved.

“If a man cain't trust his best friend, what's the world comin' to?”

Walker frowned. “My best friend? What's Caleb got to do with this?”

Denzil shifted on the bench, fanning the match out as it seared his
fingers. “Now, you know I don't want to get into your matters, but when I saw your buggy with Caleb and your missus leaving town this morning, I couldn't help but take notice.” He leaned closer, whispering. “Martha and I had a little squabble ourselves and—”

“Caleb?” Walker interrupted. “Caleb was taking Sarah to the train station?”

Denzil pulled the cigarette from his mouth and studied the cold tip. “Train station? No, they left town in your buggy.”

“Are you sure it was Sarah?”

Another match flared. “Yeah, it was your buggy, all right, and Caleb was in it with your wife.”

Caleb and Sarah? Impossible.

“You can never tell about women. One minute a man's minding his own business, the next he's sleeping on the floor of his store.”

Walker rose from the bench and began striding toward the bank.

“Good luck,” Denzil yelled, flinging the flaming match to the ground. “Don't let a filly get ya down!”

Walker walked into Caleb's office without knocking. The banker glanced up, surprise registering on his face.

“Denzil said he saw you with Sarah early this morning. What's going on, Caleb?”

Caleb swallowed, his eyes darting past the open door. “Your wife asked me to drive her to the train station—”

Walker faced him coldly. “I know my wife better than that. You're the last person on earth she'd ask, and the station is across the street.”

“She had a change of heart. She stopped by early to ask my forgiveness, and, of course, I gave it. Then she asked me to walk her to the train station.”

The answer didn't surprise him. Why shouldn't she leave? He'd all but shoved her out of the house.

“Calm down, Walker.” Caleb's features softened. “I know Sarah's departure comes as a shock, but it is the best for all. She's a wise woman.”

Turning around, Walker strode out of the office. He walked out of the bank, determined to act as if the world went on. But deep down he
knew Sarah was different. He'd known it from the day he married her.
Let her go,
a voice in his mind demanded.
She's been nothing but trouble since she got here.
Yet he rebelled at the thought. He didn't want to let her go. Mounting Diamond, he picked up the reins.

Then it hit him.

If Sarah had taken the train, where was his buggy?

Swinging off the horse, he strode back into the bank. When he reached Caleb's office, he asked, “Where's my buggy?”

“Buggy? Er…well, I…I suppose it's…maybe you should ask Tom Howell—”

“The blacksmith? Why would he have my rig?”

“He could have…I wasn't sure what Sarah wanted to do with—” The banker fidgeted with a stack of folders. “Sometimes, Walker, things happen…things we don't want—”

Walker's brow furrowed as suspicion crept up his spine. He'd never seen Caleb so defensive or so confused.

A large hand slammed over Caleb's, pinning the banker in place. “Where's my wife, Caleb?” It wasn't a question; it was a demand.

“I…” Caleb glanced away. “I resent the accusation in your tone. I don't know where your wife is. The last I seen her, she was boarding the train.”

“What happened to my buggy? You were driving it, weren't you?”

“Yes. I left it over at the livery and asked that someone see that you got it. Perhaps I didn't secure the reins tightly—the horse must have wandered away.”

“The horse wandered away?” Leaning over the desk, Walker grasped him by the collar. For the first time in his life, he wanted to hurt Caleb—badly. Fear constricted his throat. “Denzil saw you with Sarah, in my buggy, heading out of town early this morning. Now, what have you done with my wife?”

Caleb features crumbled. “Now, calm down, Walker. She's not hurt. She's…” his voice broke. “I didn't know what to do with her, so I locked her in a bedroom at my house.” Breaking into tears, the accountant clutched Walker's shirtsleeve. “I've tried to stop her every way I knew
how, but she persisted. I've agonized over what to do with her from the moment I took her this morning—I snapped. I planned to do away with her, but you're my best friend. I couldn't do it. If she'd only left things alone! She snuck into my buggy last night and found the deposit book. I planned to pay you back, Walker, every cent. I've borrowed money from you before—when have I ever failed to pay you back?”

Walker took off his hat, running his hand through his hair. “Why go behind my back, Caleb? You know I would give you anything you asked.”

“I'm in deep, Walker. Deeper than I've ever been in my life. I haven't known where to turn—but my luck's changing! I'm playing in a high-stakes game Saturday night. You'll see, I'll win it all back and more. Then I was going to return Sarah and the money, and we could go on from there—”

Coming to tower over the miserable man, Walker grabbed his collar. “If you've hurt her…”

“I haven't,” Caleb said, weeping. “I wouldn't do that, Walker. I know you love her.”