Doubting Thomas (Tarnished Saints Series) (6 page)

Thomas felt himself becoming more and more unnerved. Out of all his sons, why did it have to be Eli standing there at that moment? He wanted to reach out to the boy and hug him in comfort like he should have done long ago, but couldn’t. He wanted to hold and caress him, but there were too many thoughts in his head stopping him from doing so. The ungodly silence between them twisted at his gut, making him want to retch.

“Is it time to eat?” he asked, and the little boy just nodded. “Go ahead. You and your brothers eat without me. I’ve got a car to finish.” He stood and walked over to the car, bending and putting his head under the hood. “I’ve got things to do.” He spoke without looking at him, and when he heard the little pitter-patter of feet hurrying away, he got up the nerve to turn and watch him leave the pole barn.

He couldn’t go on like this. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t hold his tools. He needed a drink, damn it. He hurried to the shelf above his desk, whisking the box into his grip. He grabbed the bottle, feeling the cold smoothness of the neck under his fingers. Not unlike Fawn’s neck, and the many times he’d wanted to wrap his hands around it, and strangle the life from her body for cheating on him.

He ripped off the top and took a whiff. Whiskey. The fumes already made his mouth water. One drink and he’d be able to deal with his problems. One bottle, and he’d be able to forget his agonies at least for the night. He raised it to his lips, but stopped when his eyes settled on the photo of Brianne and himself atop his desk.

Her laughing eyes looked up at him. The love she’d shown him since the day they were wed, warmed his heart.

What the hell was he doing? Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? Alcohol wasn’t a way to forget his problems. It was a way to create them.

He slowly turned the bottle over and watched as the whiskey poured out and ran a trail across the dirty floor. His knees wobbled beneath him, and he fell into the chair. The bottle slipped from his hand in the process, and hit the floor with a clank, smashing into pieces.

He clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and asked for strength. He asked again for an angel to guide him, but his thoughts kept wandering to the woman he’d met earlier that day. Angeline DeMitri. Another nosey person digging into his life trying to cause him trouble.

His eyes roamed back up to the desk drawer and he just shook his head. What sort of sick joke was God playing on him? He had fallen from his faith long ago, and though he prayed, he was no longer sure there was a god who would take pity on him after his actions. If there was, the angel he prayed for to guide him would have done so by now.

Chapter 5

Angel was up early the next morning, careful to avoid not only Clarence and Agnes, but Nat as well. She’d told Abby to sleep late, and knew the girl would do just that. They’d all stayed up well past midnight playing Canasta.

Angel had enjoyed spending some time with her daughter, but Nat’s constant questions about her personal life were very annoying. Avoiding his questions was tricky, as a reporter has ways of making even the mute speak. And the Ainsleys were more than she could handle. They were hospitable and overly sweet to their guests, but also the typical elderly couple who liked to argue amongst themselves about little things that didn’t make a lick of sense to her.

Who cared how many times Clarence discarded a black three, freezing up the deck for Agnes? It wasn’t a personal vendetta, but part of the game. Or even the fact that Agnes couldn’t add worth a darn and melded more than once without the required fifty points? It wasn’t as if she were cheating, but Clarence had said she lied like a rug, and that had ended the game right then and there. The man just wasn’t used to losing, and it was to his advantage and Angel’s relief that they’d had to forfeit.

Gabby, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed there was anything amiss. She liked the attention she got from the Ainsleys and especially the attention from her mom. Cards were a very quiet game for Gabby. She was a tomboy through and through, and loved to play rough, and with the boys.

Angel tried her best to get her daughter to wear dresses instead of jeans, and bake cakes instead of playing ball, but Gabby would have none of it. She’d been young when her father died, but retained a few fond memories of  the man. Like the times he’d showed her how to dig for night crawlers in the dirt, or how to spit a watermelon seed farther than anyone, or even how to put her fingers in her mouth and whistle.

She’d always been Daddy’s girl, and Angel knew it. But now with Brad gone, she had to fill that empty part of her daughter’s life as well. It bothered Angel that her job usually took this precious time from her child. Even now, while on vacation, she couldn’t help thinking of those bedraggled, lying little vagabonds of Thomas Taylor’s, and the way he let them run about as if they were nothing more than animals.

She stepped out the front door quietly, hoping Clarence and Agnes hadn’t heard her. They didn’t. They were too busy arguing about which one of them forget to thaw out the meat for supper, that they hadn’t even heard her come down the stairs.

The morning fog hung low over the channel, creating a sort of heavenly mist as the sun’s first rays of the day illuminated it. She took a deep breath and released it, liking the way the outdoors made her feel. She needed to do this more often. She needed to slow down her life and be one with nature.

Taking in the beauty surrounding her, she jogged along the road, ending up somehow once again on the road leading to Thomas Taylor’s.

She heard a noise up ahead and saw an old rusty truck with the words Kramer’s Garage across its side. The worn paint was peeled, and the words barely readable. The driver didn’t even see her as he turned off the main road and headed down a dirt path into the woods. He pulled an empty car trailer behind him. He headed slowly over the bumpy dirt trail, the heavy foliage devouring him up from her sight.

She ran after him and stopped at the dirt trail. She never would have even seen it hadn’t the truck passed through. She followed at a safe distance, already knowing that this was the road that led to the home of the infamous Thomas Taylor.

Thomas threw his duffel bag into the cab of his pickup and hurried over to meet Gus Kramer. The man was already an hour late, yet he drove slow and lazily as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“It’s about time you got here,” Thomas grumbled, opening the man’s door and all but dragging him out.

“Slow down, Taylor, will ya?” Gus remarked, shaking Thomas’s hand off his arm. “You know I don’t like to be rushed.”

“Rush is a word no one in all of Sweet Water has ever heard. Has there ever been a case of you showing up on time yet?”

“We’ll get there, we’ll get there,” he said, heading toward the back of the trailer and slowly flipping down one tire ramp. It was already a hot morning, and Gus took the opportunity to pull a handkerchief from his pocket, removing his glasses to wipe the sweat from them. “Sure is goin’ ta be a scorcher today. But old widow McCalister said it should rain in the next few days because her knee has been hurtin’.”

“I’m not paying you by the hour to hear a weather report from an old woman with arthritis.” He hurried over and flipped down the second ramp himself. “I need to get to Brighton fast. I’ve got a potential buyer waiting, and if I don’t sell this car I’ll be eating roots and last year’s apples throughout the winter.”

“All right, all right,” he said, don’t get your pants in a knot. I’m moving as fast as I can.” The man continued to inspect his eyeglasses and Thomas was about to blow his cool. He motioned with his arm for Daniel to bring the car over and drive it up the ramps onto the trailer. Daniel was an excellent driver. Thomas had taught him how to operate behind the wheel since he was thirteen. The boy had been driving the tractor and four wheeler around his land since he was ten.

Josh and Elijah sat atop the corral fence eating apples. Jacob swept up a mess in the pole barn, and Zeke was off hiding somewhere again. Sam stayed in the shadows, his face turned downward. The boy longed to drive more than anyone, and by Thomas’s standards he should have been doing so by now. But with the boy’s bad right leg, Thomas wasn’t sure he would ever drive. Maybe some day he could afford to buy an automatic instead of stick. Maybe he could teach him to drive with his good leg instead.

“That’s good, Dan,” called Thomas, and the boy stopped on a dime. The day was nice and the ebony top on the convertible was down, and Dan hopped out right over the side without bothering to open the door.

Gus whistled in admiration when he saw the car, taking his time to slowly make his way all the way around it. “She’s a beaut,” he said, peering over the side into the front seat. “Got a four on the floor Hurst linkage,” he stated, showing his knowledge of cars.

“With a posi-traction rear end,” Daniel added, trying to match the man’s expertise.

Thomas grabbed his duffel bag out of his truck, deciding they’d never get there today if he followed Gus in his own truck like he usually did. The man would just have to face the fact that he was going to drive.

“And it’s got a big block 396,” said Josh running over, leaving Eli sitting alone atop the fence.

“Painting it fire engine red was my idea,” shouted Jacob from inside the pole barn.

“Well, Taylor, you got yerself some mighty smart boys here,” said Gus with a nod of approval. Gus might move slowly, but the man was one of Thomas’s only true friends. When everyone else gave him the cold shoulder when his wife was found murdered, Gus never once even insinuated that he thought Thomas might have done it.

Thomas threw his bag into the truck and stopped Gus just as he was reaching for the convertible door to take a look inside.

“We’ve really got to get going,” he said, directing the man toward the pickup. When Gus made his way to the driver’s door, Thomas opened it and slid onto the seat instead. “I’ll drive or I’ll end up missing the show and my sale as well.”

Gus grumbled and spit in the dirt, then sauntered over to the passenger side of the truck.

“Dan,” Thomas said out the open window. “Bring the pickup to Brighton tomorrow afternoon and give me a ride back. If for some reason I don’t sell the car, I’ll let you know. Gus’ll bring me home along with it.”

“Sure, Pa.”

“Now there’s no need for that. I ken give ya a ride either way,” objected Gus sliding into the truck.

“No need, Gus. Dan’s always looking for a reason to drive the truck.”

He could have Gus bring him back, but he’d waste half a day in the process. He knew he’d never get home without Gus wanting to stop several places, especially in the local tavern for a beer. Thomas didn’t have time to waste, nor did he want to go anywhere near a tavern with the way he’d been feeling lately. Much too dangerous.

Thomas roared the engine and was looking into the side mirror, backing up, when he saw Angeline coming up the road. He slammed on the brakes, causing the chains to rattle from the back. Gus lurched in the process.

“I think I’d better drive,” stated Gus.

Thomas didn’t have time for this. He jammed the truck into park and hopped out, storming down the road to meet her. Zeke walked at Angeline’s side, one black and white kitten in each hand. Angeline held a spotted one against her chest.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked, hurrying over to her.

“Mr. Taylor, how nice to see you again,” she said, running her hand over the head of the kitten.

“Wish I could say the same, Ms. DeMitri. I thought I told you to stay off my land.”

“I was coming over to apologize for my actions yesterday. I thought maybe we could start over and get to know each other.”

“I have no desire to do that, nor do I have time for these silly games.”

The kitten’s claws raked against her tank top and she jolted in surprise.

“Oh, it hasn’t been declawed.” The nails stuck to her top as she tried to remove the animal. Thomas reached out and grabbed the kitten in one hand, carefully pulling its claws off her shirt with the other. In the process, his arm brushed across her breast, and he felt a stirring deep within him.

“Zeke, take these kittens back to the barn where they belong.”

“Sorry, Pa. She seemed like a nice lady and she said she was coming to visit, so I let her hold a kitten.”

“Well, she’s not,” he spat, watching her eyes open wide at his statement.

“How dare you accuse me of not being nice when you don’t even know me,” she retorted.

“I meant you are not staying,” he tried to explain. “And don’t talk to me about accusations.” He motioned with his head to Josh who was standing by the car. Her eyes followed and she crossed her arms in front of her, her mouth turning down into a slight frown.

“I didn’t accuse your son of doing anything he didn’t really do.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he told her. “Not get off my land before I throw you off.”

She stood there for a moment, and Thomas thought she was going to give him trouble. But then she nodded slowly. “All right, I’ll leave if that’s what you really want.”

“It is.” He didn’t have time to wait for her to go. He was late, and if he didn’t leave now, he’d blow the whole deal. He hurried back to the truck and ripped open the door.

“Daniel, see that she’s out of here in five minutes. And if she gives you any trouble -” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He couldn’t tell the boy to call the police. He sure as hell didn’t want them here. Besides, he didn’t have a phone. That’s all he needed, was word spreading all over town that the cops were out at his place again. Rumors spread fast in Sweet Water. He wanted to tell Dan to get the shotgun if she caused trouble, but he didn’t need any accidents on his hands. And Lord knew he didn’t need another murder.

“I am not the type to cause trouble,” she said, walking over to the truck. “But something tells me you are.”

“Ms. DeMitri, if I come back and find you didn’t listen to me, there’ll be hell to pay.” He didn’t wait for her answer. He pulled out of there like a bat out of hell, hoping he wouldn’t have to carry out his threat. As much as he wanted her to leave him and his boys alone, something deep down inside told him he hoped she disobeyed his orders after all.

Angel watched Thomas Taylor pull away in a cloud of dust. So much for careful driving like he had warned her to do. The man had a chip on his shoulder about something, and she was determined to find out what. She had no intention of being ordered around by anyone, especially him. Now that she was alone with the kids, she could pump them for information about their father.

She’d get the answers she needed. She’d find out if Thomas was abusive and if his children should be taken away from him after all. She hadn’t seen anything yet to convince her of the fact, but by his explosive temper, she knew he already had the makings of an abusive parent. One wrong step around Thomas Taylor, and even she might be running in fear.

“Well,” she said with a smile, looking around at the five boys. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” She held out her hand to the eldest son. The one Thomas had called Daniel. “I’m Angeline DeMitri. I’m staying up at the Ainsely’s Bed and Breakfast during my vacation on Thunder Lake.”

Dan hesitated, and his eyes flicked over to his brothers before he took her proffered hand. “I’m Daniel Taylor. The oldest of Thomas’s six sons.”

She felt warmth in his slight smile, but caution also laced his words.

“Daniel,” said the boy with the limp as he hurried over to them. “You heard Pa. You’re not supposed to talk to her. She’s supposed to leave our land.”

“And who are you?” Angel asked, trying to sound cheery, not frightening.

“He’s Sam the sissy,” said a red-headed boy emerging from the barn. “My name’s Zeke.”

“I am not a sissy, you moron,” said Sam giving the boy a slight push. Zeke pushed back, and Daniel had to intervene before a fist fight broke out.