Lanterns and Lace (28 page)

She must have faith that God would lead someone to find her before Aubrey ended her life.

Morgan and Grant rode through a small Texas town along the train line, much like their own Kahlerville. They peered from side to side, scrutinizing every figure and looking for anyone who resembled Jenny or Turner.

Morgan lifted his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a damp bandanna. “This heat reminds me of the time when Davis Jenkins held Casey captive.”

“That’s a comforting thought.” Grant blew out an exasperated sigh. He didn’t relish the memory of those days when he nearly lost Morgan and Casey.

His brother leaned on the saddle horn. “Did I ever thank you for taking a bullet in the shoulder?”

“Yes, Morgan, many times,” Grant said. He wasn’t usually so irritated at his brother, but concern over Jenny dominated his thoughts. “You even thanked me on your wedding day.”

“Well, that bullet is why I’m here.”

Frustrated, he glanced at his brother. “How do you figure?”

“It’s the same thing, except this time it’s Turner after Jenny.”

Grant shook his head to keep from demanding that his brother find another topic of conversation. “So, are you wanting to be best man at my wedding?”

“I didn’t know you’d asked her.”

“I haven’t, but I’m the reason she left Kahlerville.”

Morgan replaced his hat. “What did you do?”

“Caused her to fall in love with me.”

His brother laughed—the first bit of humor they’d exchanged all day. “The poor girl is in for a lot more trouble than Aubrey Turner.”

“Save your comments for after the wedding, providing she accepts my proposal.”

They rode slowly down the street, both searching the townsfolk for a petite woman with chestnut curls or a tall, blond man.

“Grant,” Morgan said, his focus intent on their surroundings.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re my brother, and I’m praying for you and Jenny.”

Grant half grinned despite the solemnity of the circumstances. His brother had a difficult time expressing sentiment to Grant, and when he did, it sounded profound. “Thanks. I appreciate your prayers and that you’re riding with me today. It’s hard for me to hold onto the hand of God when I’m the type of person who wants to fix everything for everybody. I’m the town doctor, supposedly with healing in my fingertips. Right now, I’m scared to death.”

“I understand.”

The two men rode the remainder of the street in silence. Both knew the train had already passed through for the day, and they realized the slim chance of Turner being apprehended by the law. Grant didn’t want to consider that Turner might have already found Jenny.

“Think I’ll check out the train station,” Morgan said. “What about you?”

Grant knew exactly where he was headed. “I’ll stop by the sheriff’s office. It’s hard to say if they would have received a telegram before or after the train stopped here.”

The two soon discovered that neither the train station nor the sheriff offered much hope. They talked of riding on to the next town.

“Let’s go back and see that lawman,” Grant said, standing beneath a shade tree near the railroad depot. “He’s a bit cocky, and I’m not so sure he even met the train.”

As Grant expected, the sheriff didn’t appreciate being questioned again, especially by two dust-ridden men. “Hate to disappoint you, but there wasn’t a young woman traveling alone on the train. I searched it myself.”

“She had to be on it. She boarded it in Kahlerville.” Grant glared at the young man—in his opinion too young to wear a badge. He didn’t even look old enough to shave. What was this country coming to? Grant’s persistent headache and lack of sleep had ushered in a short fuse. “Do you have a list of passengers?”

The younger man spat a mouthful of tobacco juice onto a spittoon. “Sure do, but wait a minute. Who are you two, anyway?”

“I’m Dr. Grant Andrews from Kahlerville, and this is my brother, Morgan. He’s a lawyer there. And who are you?”

“Sheriff Nelson. Got any identification?”

Morgan grabbed Grant’s arm, apparently sensing the anger that searched for a spot to land. “Yes, we do,” Morgan said, reaching inside his shirt pocket.

Moments later, the sheriff opened a narrow desk drawer and shuffled through some papers before producing the list of the train’s occupants. “Two cattlemen headed for Dallas, an old couple on their way to their son’s farm in Arkansas, and a young married couple.”

Rubbing his chin, Morgan stared at the sheriff. “What did the couple look like?”

“Don’t know. I didn’t see ‘em.” He spat, and the sound of it smacking against the pan rankled Grant beyond comprehension.

“You just said you searched the train yourself,” Grant said.

“The conductor told me the couple wanted to be alone. Seems as though they were having a tiff, and the husband was trying to smooth things out.”

“What were their names?” Grant said.

The sheriff glanced down at his piece of paper. “Windsor, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Windsor.”

“Did they leave on the train?” Grant leaned over the desk, eyeing the young sheriff critically.

“Naw, don’t think so ‘cause a boy from the hotel fetched their trunk and a few bags.”

Within moments, Grant raced toward the establishment.

Dear God, don’t let me be too late. Calm me down and help me think clearly.

*****

Jenny attempted to twist her body into a less painful position. Her shoulders and legs throbbed, and her cheek hurt where Aubrey had slapped her. Watching the fading light disappear from the room and shadows dance across the walls, she awaited his return. Her vision blurred, and her mouth tasted acrid.

She wanted Aubrey to simply finish what he’d threatened. She had nothing to tell him. The sound of a man’s boots echoed down the hall and stopped abruptly outside the door.

Her heart pounded fiercely. Out of sheer desperation, she scrambled through her mind for a plan or a diversion, something to stall for time. Aubrey would see through any fabrication. She couldn’t fight him, and she couldn’t escape. No matter what she might consider, others could be harmed.

I don’t want to die.

The dull ring of the key tapping the metal lock sounded the approach of her execution. She watched the knob slowly turn, hysteria stealing her prayers. Slowly, the door swung open. If she could have screamed, she would have gladly alarmed every person in the hotel.

Jenny squeezed her eyes shut for one more prayer before Aubrey entered the room. It took all of her might to look at him, but she wanted to project some sense of bravery.

“Jenny, it’s me.”

She blinked. Grant. Had he found her, or was she dreaming? Had she lost her faint hold on sanity?

He kneeled at her side and untied the makeshift gag. His eyes softened. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have left Kahlerville. Don’t you know I love you?”

Tears of relief and exhaustion welled up in her eyes. Love me? “How did you ever find me?”

He gathered her up in his arms. “I prayed and God led me here. I had to find you before Turner attempted another murder. Morgan’s with me, too. He’s at the sheriff’s office.”

A wave of sickness swept over her. “Aubrey will be back any minute. He’ll kill you. He killed Ellen.”

Grant pushed away the torn garments wrapped around her arms and legs and held her close. “Ellen is alive. He thought he killed her.”

She attempted to think more clearly as he massaged her wrists and ankles. She wanted to say so much, be courageous, but the words refused to come.

“Can you stand? We need to get out of here.” Grant helped her to her feet. When her legs buckled, he lifted her up into his arms.

The ordeal had left her weak and utterly shaken.

“Put the little lady down.” Aubrey kicked the door shut. He aimed his revolver at Jenny. “I won’t hesitate to shoot either one of you, so put her down easy.”

“The sheriff’s on his way.” Grant slowly set Jenny on her feet.

She held onto his arm for balance, not once doubting Aubrey’s threat.

“You’re lying.” Aubrey smirked. “Take off that gun belt and toss it this way.” He steadied his aim at her while Grant released his weapon. “Join me, dear Jenny, or the doctor will be mending his own wounds.”

She stepped forward, but Grant pulled her back. “She’s not going anywhere with you, Turner, Jacobs, or whatever your name is. You fire that gun, and half a dozen men will be climbing those stairs. You won’t have a chance.”

“I’ll take the risk.” He raised his revolver.

“Wait, I’ll come with you.” Jenny tried to shake loose of Grant’s hold, but he held her firmly. “I’ll go with you, Aubrey, and do whatever you say. Just don’t hurt him.”

Aubrey narrowed his violet gaze. “Your devotion repulses me. Have you forgotten Ellen’s fate?”

“She isn’t dead,” Grant said. “And she identified you this morning. Warrants are out for your arrest.”

“I don’t believe a word. When I kill somebody, they stay dead.”

“Not this time.”

“They’ll have to catch me first.”

Grant shook his head. “Why don’t you give up now before you add another killing to the list?”

“Save your pious words for someone else, Doc. And you know, I might consider behaving myself once I have my money, providing Miss Jenny cooperates. She could be taught how to behave.” He glared greedily at her.

She wanted to spit on him. Drag her fingernails across his face.

“I can take you to your money,” Grant said, his words controlled.

“I’m smarter than that. Why would she be heading back to Ohio if she didn’t know where Jessica hid it?”

Grant’s gaze bore into Aubrey’s face. “I tell you, I know where it’s located. Jessica left it for Rebecca’s care.”

Aubrey waved the revolver in front of Grant’s face. “You’re a bad liar, and I’ve heard enough of your gallant tales. In fact, I’ve heard all I need to shut you up for good.”

“Aubrey, please,” Jenny whispered.

The hammer clicked on the revolver.

The door flew open. Morgan burst into the room.

The gambler whirled around and fired. The booming sound, the smell of rotten eggs, and the grayish smoke were not the thrill Jenny experienced when she practiced firing her revolver. She never wanted to go through this horror again.

Morgan fell back with a spurt of blood gushing from a hole in his shoulder.

Jenny screamed, and Aubrey pulled her from Grant and then squeezed a second shot. The bullet whizzed narrowly above Grant’s head, but he yanked his own revolver from Aubrey’s grasp and fired into the man’s right thigh. The sharp crack of Grant’s gun echoed across the room.

Jenny twisted free of Aubrey’s hold, giving Grant time to pin the man to the floor. Within seconds, the sheriff appeared.

“Someone send for the doctor,” the sheriff said. He yanked on Aubrey’s arm. “I’ll take this one with me.”

“I am a doctor,” Grant said and bent down to examine his brother. “But I need antiseptic and instruments to pull out this bullet.” He peeled back the burnt cloth embedded in the gunshot while Jenny tore strips from the remains of her petticoat to hinder the flow of blood. When she handed the cloth to him, their gazes met.

“You could have been killed, and now Morgan is hurt,” she said.

For a brief moment Grant allowed his attention to sway from his brother. “I had no choice,” he said. “I simply couldn’t sit back and wait for the authorities to find you when I knew Turner had plans of his own.” He made a bandage from another piece of cloth. “Morgan, how are you doing?”

“I think we’re even,” Morgan said.

“Even?” Grant smiled. “I guess so. You’re going to be just fine.”

Jenny had no idea what they were talking about. Perhaps Grant would tell her later. Relief settled through her entire body. Aubrey was under arrest. Ellen was alive. Grant was close enough for her to touch him. And he loved her.

Grant finished tending to Morgan and wiped his hands on a strip of torn petticoat. They waited for the town’s sheriff to return.

“I was so scared,” she said. “When he told me about Ellen and Mrs. Lewis, I wanted to give up, but I kept praying.”

“Ellen simply needs rest, and I’m sure Frank will dote on her every minute of the day.” He drew her to him. “I love you, Jenny Martin.” He swiped at the wetness beneath her eyes and lightly kissed the bruise darkening her cheek. He frowned and shook his head. “I kept finding excuses for not telling you how I felt. I’m sure a prideful fool. Thought I had my life just where I wanted it, and to think I nearly lost you by not speaking my heart. I don’t ever want to let you go.”

For once, Jenny didn’t cry. Joy filled every inch of her heart. “I meant every word of my letter.”

“Then I need to do this right.” He gently pushed her away, then lifted her chin to meet his ardent gaze. “Jenny, I’m a slow learner, so I hope you’ll have patience with me, but I love you with all my heart. God put us together for a reason—to spend the rest of our lives together. What I’m saying is . . . will you marry me?”

“Oh, yes, Grant. If you will have me, I will love you forever.”

“Save it for later, you two.” Morgan moaned. “You have an injured man in your midst, and I plan to be best man.”

Jenny laid her pen aside. While the ink dried, she stared dreamily out the window facing her and Grant’s backyard. Their lives were good and definitely blessed, and even the bad times brought them closer to God and each other.

Sadly enough, Ben had passed away last Christmas after a fierce battle with a lung ailment. Bonnie seemed so lost, unhappy, and lonely.

Morgan and Casey were busy expanding the ranch to include more horses—always busy and working together.

Mimi didn’t seem to age or slow down. She just added more projects to her list of things to accomplish. Jenny didn’t know what she’d do without the widow, who was so much a part of their family.

Jenny smiled at the thought of Ellen and Frank’s news. They were expecting a baby in a few months. Such a blessing for two good people.

Grant and Jenny’s prayers had been answered about her parents. Shortly after the wedding, they had taken Rebecca to Cleveland. At first her parents had refused to see them, but then something had changed their minds. Her parents claimed it was precious Rebecca. Jenny smiled. God changed their minds. At first the meeting was very uncomfortable, especially when Grant prayed at dinner.

“Mr. Andrews, we do not pray in our home,” her father had said. “We have no use for such nonsense.”

“Sir, my family is a praying family,” Grant said. “Have you read the Bible?”

“No. I haven’t. Never saw a reason to.” Her father’s face reddened, and Jenny feared a display of his temper.

“Then I challenge you to read and study it. I’ve studied the sciences—even read Darwin’s views on the origin of life. We could conduct a discussion of both books through letters.”

Grant’s suggestion sparked a challenge, and Jenny’s father agreed. After much debate and many letters, her father wrote Grant and Jenny of his desire to attend church. Neither he nor her mother had found salvation in Jesus Christ, but they were in church and reading scripture, and Grant and Jenny continued to pray for them, convinced that God would continue to draw her parents to Him.

Jenny’s eyes trailed down to her letter. Guess she’d read it one more time before posting it:

Dear Mother and Father,

I am so excited to write you this letter. We have a new addition to our family. A week ago, Grant and I presented Rebecca with a precious baby sister. I cannot say who is prouder. Grant tells me she looks just like Rebecca did as a baby. Big sister is doing quite well with her new role, and Grant and I are working diligently to make her feel important and needed. She acts so grown up at age four and wants to help with everything about the new baby.

We named our new daughter Rachel Kathryn, and she is beautiful—lots of dark hair, and eyes so blue they are nearly black. I imagine they will be brown.

We are so looking forward to your visit at Christmas. It will make our holiday perfect. May God bless you both.

Love,

Grant, Jenny, Rebecca, and Rachel