Grace for a Drifter Page 7

  Chapter 8

  That evening Errol convinced his father to take him on a tour of the improvements in the factory. It was a lovely summer evening with plenty of light left to see by, he’d said, and his father happily called for his carriage since his son was showing an interest in the family business. The two left Bethany at home with the children who were happily occupied with toys Mrs. Haggerty had retrieved from the attic.

  In a brief private moment, Errol told her what his father had said. He urged her to look for a four-year-old Pinkerton report as well as any correspondence with Evergreen.

  Flabbergasted for a moment at the story his father had told Errol, she stared with her mouth open. He put a finger gently below her chin and closed it. Then he made use of the privacy and kissed her the way he’d wanted to earlier that day on the train. Gentle at first, the kiss soon turned coaxing.

  She pulled back from him with a confused expression on her face. “I suppose that, too, is a part of getting to know each other again.” Shaking her head, she continued with words she knew he wouldn’t like. “I need the tender courting again. While I realize now that everything was a lie, feelings of betrayal still overwhelm me at times. They’re like a blanket I’m trying to throw off that seems still entwined around me.”

  Though he didn’t look pleased, he nodded his head. “At least we’re together. All I ask is that you allow me to kiss and cuddle you at times. The other will come in time for us, I trust.”

  Quickly nodding her head, she blushed hotly. Struggling to change the topic, she questioned him about the search. “Certainly your father would have burned any letters he received from my aunt or anyone else in Evergreen.”

  What she thought was a sardonic grin appeared on his face. “That is what will unmask his lies. Father refuses to ever destroy reports or other correspondence.”

  Remembering that remark now, she saw that Errol had described his father correctly. After rifling through the drawers of his desk, she turned her attention to a door set in the wall closest to the desk. It was a closet with six sets of shelves on which sat wooden crates filled with paper. Pulling one down, she saw that the paper were reports about his businesses so she set the box aside on the floor.

  Stepping back to consider the crates on the shelves, she saw writing on each wooden shelf that she hadn’t immediately noticed in the dimming light that entered the study by way of the large west-facing window. Now, Bethany took the time to read a brief description on the shelves of each crate’s contents. Smiling broadly, she removed the crate from a spot simply titled Errol.

  The room had grown dark and Bethany forgot about the other crate she’d placed on the floor. Turning, she tripped over it and the papers in the crate she held spilled out and onto the floor. Gathering them up, she sighed as she realized that whatever order they’d been in had been lost by her clumsiness.

  Moving to the window to see better, she pulled a chair near it and also lit an oil lamp. Settling in, she scanned through every document her father-in-law had ever received that either concerned her husband or had been sent by him. She read the letter he’d sent, describing meeting her at his friend’s wedding. The flowery description he wrote about her started a rush of love like she’d remembered from that time in the past. It had been exciting for a spinster like her to be courted by a handsome and well-to-do man.

  Below that letter, she found another one and was shocked by its sender. Aunt Milly had written to describe the plan to fool Errol into believing his new wife was dead. She asked Robert to buy the tombstone and to come to Evergreen and convince Bethany of her husband’s betrayal. If only she had the letter Robert Marsden wrote in return.

  Continuing to sort through them, she found the Pinkerton report. It detailed Errol’s renting of a small house but also identified the woman living in the house as his sister. She placed the report on a small pile she’d started after finding her aunt’s letter.

  The next piece of paper proved to be the evidence she wanted. Her aunt had written to offer Robbie for sale to his grandfather. She explained that his mother had died in childbirth and she’d raised the child. As she devoted so much of her life to him, she felt she deserved compensation. If he came to Evergreen, he would only have to look at the child to know that he was a Marsden and certainly would want to claim him. She specified a date for their meeting which had been the night before Uncle Ralph had reported her missing.

  Nothing else seemed useful in the crate and she gathered up the papers. Returning the crate to its spot on the shelf, she carried her small pile to the parlor to wait.

  When, not long after, she heard Errol’s voice in the hallway, she knew she’d ended her search none too soon. Walking to the parlor door, she called to Errol. Smiling, he joined her in the room. Without a word to him, she handed him the papers with her aunt’s almost four-year-old letter on top.

  The smile left his face as he read. He didn’t comment as he moved the letter to the back of the pile and scanned the Pinkerton report. Finally, he looked at the letter that offered their son to his grandfather. Anger reddened his face. “She planned to sell him like an animal or a piece of property.”

  Bethany held her hands out in front of her pleadingly. “Please believe that she convinced me she wanted to raise him and seemed to treasure him. I have no idea what went wrong.”

  His mouth tightened as he gave a quick bob of his head. With the papers clutched in one hand, he pulled her with his other to his father’s study. Not bothering to knock, he opened the door.

  Surprised at the unannounced intrusion, his father set his book aside and rose from his armchair. “What’s got you looking like a charging bull?”

  Errol shook the papers he held under his father’s nose. “I asked Bethany to look through your papers while we were gone. It’s time to tell us the truth rather than that old song you gave me earlier about misunderstandings.”

  Grabbing the papers his son held, the older man paled as he read through them. Glowering at Bethany, he growled, “You had no right to search my things.”

  Putting his wife behind him protectively, Errol squared his shoulders. “We had every right after what you did to ruin our marriage. I think it’s time to admit the truth.”

  His father’s face took on the diplomatic expression Errol had seen him use with clients and fellow businessmen. He recognized it and felt disappointed that his father wasn’t ready to tell them the truth.

  “I can’t see how rehashing old events will help us, son.”

  Bethany stepped around him and, without flinching, met Robert Marsden’s glare when he saw her movement. “I deserve an explanation after you lied to me, and I want to know whether you’ve harmed my aunt.”

  The man vehemently denied that. “I never harmed your aunt or the man that was with her.”

  This comment intrigued Errol. “What man? Her husband?”

  His father shook his head. “No, the one who worked for the railroad. He helped at the depot. They were quite the pair of lovers that night. Touching and cooing at each other as I arrived at the old cabin she’d chosen as the meeting place.”

  That explained what had changed for her aunt and why she wanted to sell Robbie. The woman had a lover and she’d planned to run away. Probably had run away just like Uncle Ralph said.

  Wanting to hear his father admit everything, Errol prodded him. “Tonight, you spoke about me taking over the factory. I can’t work with you if I expect you to lie to me. I need to hear you admit everything.”

  Shock erased Robert’s confident façade. “You’d still move back to St. Louis after learning this.”

  Looking at her, Errol silently asked for Bethany’s approval. She nodded, knowing that the children deserved the best home she and Errol could provide for them. If Robert would be honest with them, perhaps he could have a relationship with Liza and Robbie so that the children could have at least one grandparent.

  Reading the hope on her face, Errol continued, “We’d like to. I want to take up th
e life I’d planned four years earlier. It won’t involve you, though, if you refuse to be honest with us.”

  A dam broke, it seemed. Robert began to speak, recalling his hopes for a marriage that could join families and business empires. He detailed the plans that separated Errol and Bethany. “But I knew nothing about Robbie until I received that letter a few weeks ago.” His expression begged them to believe him and Bethany did. She knew her aunt had wanted a child and wouldn’t have risked losing him by revealing his existence to Robert.

  That is, she wouldn’t have risked revealing him until she decided her lover was more important.

  A thought came to her and she voiced the question. “Why didn’t you take Robbie back with you that night?”

  A grimace twisted his mouth. “I didn’t believe he really was my grandson so I didn’t bring the money. She refused to let me take him. Didn’t give in even when I raged and threatened her. The thought of leaving my own flesh with a woman who wanted to sell him sickened me.” He looked at Bethany with accusing eyes. “I’m surprised you gave him to her.”

  Errol intervened. “Don’t attack Bethany. I want to hear the rest of the plan to buy Robbie.”

  The older man relaxed back into the chair he’d taken before beginning his story. “We arranged for them to bring Robbie to me in St. Louis two days later. When they didn’t arrive, I hired Pinkerton agents to investigate. Yesterday, I learned that she and her lover were gone and I feared the worst. After all, the Pinkerton told me that the boy was no longer at the farm.” Sincere worry showed on the man’s face.

  Bethany and Errol exchanged a silent message that showed both believed him. She was amazed that after years apart they could easily read each other’s expressions.

  “We have unfinished business in Evergreen. Tomorrow my family is taking the train back to the town. From there, we have to return to Wyoming to take care of things there before our move to St. Louis.” Errol paused to look at his father. “Thank you for being honest with us. I believe that you meant well where Robbie is concerned. I just wish you had been as caring about Liza.”

  Sadness radiated from Robert Marsden as he sincerely responded, “I do too.”

  Chapter 9

  For the third day in a row, Bethany rode on the train. Liza had begged to stay at her grandfather’s while Robbie hugged his mother’s legs and shook his head. Without a word, Errol had firmly guided her out of the house and into the waiting carriage.

  He’d held her in the big bed last night and softly planned what they needed to do. Since the mystery about her aunt seemed to be solved, she agreed it was time to head to Wyoming. “I did promise to pack up Aunt Milly’s things at the farm. Before we leave, I have to do that.”

  Once they’d arrived in Evergreen that afternoon by way of the St. Louis, Salem, and Little Rock Railroad, her family walked to Mrs. Cowley’s. Glad to be free of the train, Liza and Robbie swung their joined hands and skipped ahead of their parents. Their scampering feet stirred up dust that she and Errol tried to avoid walking through, but they didn’t mind. The kids were so joyful that she had to smile at their antics.

  When they arrived at the boarding house, Mrs. Cowley arched her brows but otherwise showed no surprise at their return. She did prod them for information, but that was to be expected. “Have a nice visit in St. Louis?”

  Bethany smiled and inclined her head. “How did you know we went there?”

  Mrs. Cowley gave her a secretive grin. “I hear things you know. People at the train depot notice the comings and goings.”

  Using this as an opportunity to gain information about her aunt’s lover, Bethany mentioned the man’s name. “I suppose Dunstan Murphy told you.”

  Snorting, Mrs. Cowley denied that. “He’s part of the goings. Disappeared one night but not by train. Mr. Davidson is sure of that.” She mentioned the station master’s name. Bethany silently agreed that he would know if Dunstan and her aunt had taken a train to leave Evergreen.

  After they’d reserved a room and left their baggage in it, Errol visited the livery and secured a wagon to take them to the farm. “I’d get a buggy, but I think we’ll need the wagon for your aunt’s things,” he’d reasoned apologetically.

  “I can ride in a wagon, Mr. Marsden,” she’d protested. “Certainly you remember taking me to Glenda in one!”

  He’d laughed and lifted her onto the wagon. “Will you need me to drive you there?”

  “We talked about this last night. You poke around Evergreen for details about Dunstan. Maybe someone knows where he and Aunt Milly went.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. He grabbed them and kissed each before giving her a lusty look. He definitely made her feel like a woman being courted and she relished the feeling.

  As Errol lifted each child into the wagon, he kissed soft heads. Liza giggled about him kissing her hair instead of her cheek. Robbie squirmed when his father touched him but didn’t scream as Bethany had expected. Each day allowed for a bit more progress in their relationship with him.

  True to form, Liza made up songs about the things she saw during their trip. Bethany grew tired of that quickly. Actually, she was physically tired and didn’t have as much patience today. She urged Liza to count windmills instead of singing and challenged her to find 10 windmills before they reached Uncle Ralph’s farm. The girl put a hand to shade her eyes and started searching the scenery for one.

  By the time they reached the farm, she’d found six. That started a sad song about the missing four windmills. Bethany sighed but let her sing. Robbie swayed to the beat of her lament and seemed to enjoy himself and the song kept them occupied for the moment.

  Uncle Ralph didn’t come from the barn when the wagon rolled to a stop at the back of the house. Deciding he’d be in the field yet since it was only late afternoon and not evening, she walked to the back door. Liza had needed to use the privy and scampered in the direction her mother pointed.

  Robbie resisted by pulling back on the hand his mother held. Bethany looked down at his terrified face.

  “What’s the matter? I’m not going to make you stay. Mama will keep you with her from now on.” The fear didn’t leave his eyes at her words, but the boy did relax and allow her to lead him into the house.

  After entering the kitchen, she walked to a door on the far wall and opened it to reveal the stairs the led into the cellar. She knew she’d need the wooden crates kept down there to pack her aunt’s things.

  A musty smell entered the room as well as the odor of meat gone bad. “Ugh! What did Uncle Ralph forget down there? It stinks like something’s dead.”

  The word dead triggered Robbie’s screams. He pulled back and spoke. “Ma! Tunnel!”

  Alarmed, Bethany squatted in front of her son. “Can you take me to the tunnel?”

  His black curls flopped as he nodded vigorously and started to pull her into the cellar. She stopped him and lit the lantern sitting on the kitchen table. Once she had light to see by, they started down into the darkness.

  Shelves neatly lined each earthen wall of the room. One set, however, had been pulled away from the wall and stood in the middle of the room. Robbie wiggled around it and Bethany followed him. He put small fingers around a crack in the woods and tugged. Bethany joined him and, together, they opened a small room behind the wooden panel.

  Overcome by the smell, she yanked Robbie back from the black maw of the tunnel. She bent to comfort the now crying child and missed hearing the person on the stairs. When Robbie’s eyes abruptly widened, she whirled and raised the lantern high.

  Her uncle loomed over her, hatchet poised to strike. Desperate to escape, she toppled the shelves left in the middle of the room and grabbed her son’s arm. The shelves and Mason jars hit the man, making him loosen his grip on the weapon. He scrambled for it as she edged around several now-broken jars and headed for the stairs.

  As if rage or insanity gave him speed, he beat her to the foot of the stairs and jumped in front of her. Shoving Robbie to safety behind her,
she challenged the man she’d always considered a family member. “Uncle Ralph, why are you doing this? What is hidden down here?” Her voice shook as it rose with fear as she questioned him.

  Watching him, she saw his eyes leave hers to look at the opening in the cellar wall. Quickly, she darted her eyes at the shelf to her right, close enough that she could grab something from it. Her aunt’s five-gallon pickle crock sat on one of the shelves. It was a heavy earthen crock and gave her an idea. Now, if something happened to distract her uncle, perhaps she would be able to save herself and the children.

  A low growl, more animal-like than human, escaped Ralph’s mouth before he spoke. Spittle flew from his lips as he shook the hatchet at her. “Milly thought she could sell the boy and leave me. I followed her that night and heard the plan.”

  Keep him talking. It was her only plan until something drew his attention away from her. No matter that she had learned through the years to fear his anger, she challenged him now. “What did it matter? You gave Robbie away as soon as she left. Why would you care if she sold him?”

  “Shut up, you hussy. The boy didn’t matter. But I saw her with Dunstan. Realized what I suspected about them was true.” He screamed the last sentence.

  “Did Aunt Milly really leave a note and run away with him?” Even though she knew her aunt and Dunstan Murphy lay dead in the nearby darkness, she asked anyhow to keep him talking.

  He laughed, low and menacing. “Stupid girl. Who do you think is stinking up the place? A few more bodies down here won’t make any difference now.”

  Out the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a shadow on the stairs. With effort, she resisted the urge to look that way and alert Ralph. Behind the man, Liza stood halfway down the stairs and brought a short length of wood down on his head.

  The man didn’t fall under the blow. Swearing loudly, he pivoted to look for his attacker, bending to look up the stairs. With his focus on Liza, Bethany grabbed the crock and used all of her strength to slam it into his skull. This time he did crumple under the blow.