Tom was growing increasingly nervous about the enormity of the sacrifice he was making, but however difficult it may prove to be, he did not have the heart to let Molly down. Besides, it was only right that he should shoulder a measure of blame for this good man’s lost life. John Tanner must have been devastated when he found his wife lying with another man, and worse, in a state of undress. But however hard it might be for Tom in prison, it would all be worth it to find Molly was waiting for him when he got out.
There was no doubt in Tom’s mind that if Molly had not swung the spade at her husband, he himself would now be lying dead on the ground, instead of that unfortunate, innocent man. He thought now of how Molly had tried desperately to stop her husband’s savage attack on him, but when her frantic calls fell on deaf ears, the spade was her last resort.
Molly had saved his life and there was no doubt in his own mind that he was doing the right and honourable thing in taking the blame upon himself, especially when he considered Molly’s young daughter, and the many other domestic and business responsibilities that would now fall on Molly’s shoulders.
Moreover, he was convinced that taking the blame was definitely the preferred alternative to being alone but free, while the woman he adored was locked away from him.
He anticipated suffering terrible loneliness without her by his side, although he realised that his difficulties were nothing compared to what Molly might suffer in prison. As a murderer she would stand out, and because of that, together with her fiery spirit, he could only imagine the conflict she might endure.
His wandering thoughts came back to reality with a rush when he realised she was still there, staring down at her husband, and appearing to smile.
‘Molly! What are you doing? You need to call the ambulance now.’
‘Yes, yes, I know, but it’s just occurred to me, there will be my fingerprints on the spade handle. Clean them off while I’m gone, would you, love? Make a proper job of it, won’t you? I mean, we can’t be too careful, can we?’ Knowing how besotted he was with her, she had every confidence that he would be most careful.
‘Trust me, Molly. While I do my bit here, you must be quick as you can. Hurry now, love!’
‘All right, all right, I’m going.’
Somewhat disgruntled at his panic, she lingered a moment longer to stare down at the cold, motionless remains of John Tanner. And she felt nothing. In the depths of her wickedness, there was no pity. No love. Not even the slightest shred of regret. What little love she had once felt for him had long since disappeared. Uppermost in her mind was that his untimely death would actually mean a far better life for her. In all respects.
A moment later, she was on her way, stealing a backward glance at the gullible man who was laying his future on the line for her.
Molly’s dark eyes glittered with a smile as she walked away, while reassuring herself: no one gets the better of Molly Tanner. She had always been able to wind men around her little finger. It gave her great pleasure to think that her weak-minded lover was at this very moment painstakingly wiping away any possible fingerprints of hers from the murder weapon.
Gleefully contemplating her own future, she felt a certain grudging gratitude to the good man who had been her devoted husband.
From boy to man, John had seen with his own eyes how hard and long his own father had toiled to improve what had been left to him by
his
dear father. With hard work, long hours and total dedication over these many years, John had built up what his father had inherited as a run-down farm and created a splendid and most valuable holding.
The once rough land was now highly productive. Covering some four hundred acres, most of it had been brought back from wilderness and was now such prime land that any commercial farmer would snap at the chance to own it.
Over the years a procession of determined neighbours had offered handsome money for the land and property, but always they were disappointed. John Tanner felt duty-bound to honour his father’s wishes that the land and everything on it should be the inheritance of the next generation.
He made it known that he would never sell up, not at any price, even if the money offered meant that he would never have to work another day in his life, and eventually, all would-be buyers got the message.
Tanner’s Farm had been handed down through many generations of Tanners, but only young John had had the bigger vision to make it into one of the most valuable and productive holdings in the region.
Through years of dedication and with little help, he had struggled hard to achieve his goal. He brought the rough, non-productive areas into pasture; he nurtured and culled the woodland to create sturdy new growth; and he used the felled trees to improve the layout and size of the farmhouse and buildings. He cleared the wider land of many years’ wild growth.
He had dug out a channel and directed the precious natural spring with which his land was blessed into a cascade that flowed into the newly renovated lake, so fixing the irrigation of the pastures and the wide fields of corn that in summer made giant waves in the sunshine whenever gentle winds blew across the land.
John Tanner had considered that beautiful lake to be one of his greatest achievements. And, more importantly, he had regarded it as a fitting memorial to his beloved parents.
As with his father, the land and everything on it had been dearly loved by John, but his greatest love had been for the horses. He’d bred foals from his own peerless mares, and also brought in new young stock and nurtured them to maturity.
His young horses were tirelessly trained and he’d proudly rode or displayed them at the many shows and equestrian events hereabouts, where they won cups and ribbons of the highest recognition. John Tanner’s reputation as a knowledgeable breeder and trainer of horses was second to none in the county.
When it was time for them to be sold on, he would deal only with buyers who wanted the animals for working the fields, for personal riding, or to breed from with the best bloodstock.
He would never sell to anyone who sought to obtain the horses for immediate resale into dangerous work, or for random and continuous breeding until a once-fine mare was worn down, eventually to be discarded.
John was also extra careful, after it had been made known to him, to avoid certain quarters in which young horses were dying in fear and agony when untrained men were castrating them rather than paying out for registered and responsible vets.
Anyone who had experience of horses and farming recognised John Tanner as a decent man with a proper respect for his animals. His naturally suspicious attitude where the animals were concerned meant that hard-nosed and unscrupulous dealers of ill repute knew to keep their distance, while those of his own kind respected and admired his straightforward sense of duty towards his stock, following his father’s high standards and much-valued traditions.
As Molly Tanner walked away from the spent carcass that was her husband, she was made to recall just how dedicated a man he had been. She had witnessed his heavy toiling, often from first light to the setting of the sun. Day after day, winter or summer, he was out in all weathers. He worked tirelessly on the farmland, he improved the many pathways around the farm, and he would be forever tending the animals. He also maintained the farmhouse and numerous outbuildings, most of which he had inherited, with the exception of the great hay barn, which was a more recent addition.
The weight of responsibility for the farm was heavy on his shoulders, but rain, heat and wild storms never stopped him. If it was freezing, or wet, or blowing a gale, he would tackle some inside task, and when the fine weather came, he returned to outside work. He always managed to complete every job to the highest standards, and what he did not know how to do he soon learned to perfection.
Thinking on the past and the man she had married, Molly Tanner grudgingly admitted something to herself for the first time. In John Tanner she had caught a good and faithful man, whose lot in life was to toil and care for his family. He never shirked his responsibilities, which he executed with love and good heart, even when he was bowed down with work and worries.
To Molly’s irritation her mind was haunted with images of that strong, determined man, who had emerged from his father’s shadow to work from dawn to dusk caring and providing for his family, and tending to his many duties as best he could. And for what?
Even though she had no love for him, she had seen him as a man of stature, with opinions and dreams. Like any other human being he had laughed and cried, and unlike lesser men he had worked with a glad heart. Now that big, capable man was spent of life. A nothing. A no one … lying still and crumpled on the ground like an old sock thrown aside.
She was the one who had brought him to this sorry state. She alone had ended his life with a heavy blow to the back of his head, yet what she felt was not compassion or love or regret. It was nothing but contempt, and a pleasing sense of her own achievement.
In that defining moment when she had glanced down on him, without tenderness or conscience, she had found something to make her smile.
She smiled again now. John Tanner, the big strong, capable man! It seems you’re just as vulnerable as the rest of us, she thought. Whoever would have guessed that you would end up the loser, while I turned out to be the winner? And now that you’ve gone to your Maker I must consult the best lawyer I can find to make sure that everything of value will come me, and not to the next generation of Tanners.
Her smile crumpled into a dark frown. If you thought for one minute I would step aside and see your daughter snatch what is mine by rights, you don’t know me, she thought.
She chuckled then at her good fortune. You were never smart enough for me, John Tanner! I knew what I was doing when I married you. I saw what you had, and I wanted it. And now I shall have it all … every last piece! Oh, yes, thanks to you and your hard work and dedication, Molly Tanner has just become a very wealthy woman.
She listed it all in her mind: the house and everything in it; the valuable farm machinery; the animals and land; money in the bank; every little item. The farmhouse itself was worth a small fortune, but that would be the last to go. She would need somewhere to live while being kept busy counting her many belongings, and keeping a check on just how rich she truly was.
Approaching the big doors, she addressed her dead husband in her mind. As for you and your father’s grand ideas of passing wealth onto the next generation, that’s all finished now. Nothing and no one stands in my way – not your father’s wishes, and especially not the girl. What was then yours, is now mine, John Tanner! D’you hear me?
Confident of claiming her husband’s worldly goods, she felt ten feet tall. Clever girl, Molly, she told herself. You really are a far-sighted and devious woman. Moreover, with lover-boy covering your back you can’t go wrong. Like putty in your hands, he is – the sad, deluded fool.
While she greedily relished her new-found wealth and well-fought freedom, not one single, warm thought entered her head with regard to the two men back there, one lying dead on the ground and the other, highly nervous and fearing for his liberty, but convinced of Molly’s absolute dedication to him.
Molly was also thinking of what the two of them had agreed to say, but for all Tom Stevens’ reassurances, she was slightly nervous, because while John Tanner was a man who would keep his word in any situation, she wasn’t entirely sure what kind of man Tom Stevens really was.
When the time came, and he was facing a barrage of questions, would he keep his word to her? Would he be strong enough to take the blame and the punishment for John Tanner’s brutal death? Would he stay loyal to her and pay whatever penalty it might cost him? If his plea of self-defence was thrown out and he was charged with murder, the penalty would be unthinkable. Was he a man who could handle such pressure? Or would he break down and save himself at her expense?
The very thought of him buckling under the weight of the inevitable charges made her shiver. There would be dire consequences for her if, under the pressure of being questioned, he actually blurted out the shocking truth: that it was she who had deliberately killed John.
If that dreadful possibility did arise, though, she would fight him with everything she had. She would do her utmost to discredit him, to make him out to be a liar and a devious, manipulative man. She would tell the world just how bad a character he was, and how he used her to get rid of her husband. He knew she was happily married, but he was grimly determined to steal her away from that fine man John Tanner. She would plead that he was insistent and had tried every trick in the book to get her away from the man she had long loved.
If need be, she would go on to tell how he continuously pestered her, followed her until he wore her down, making her believe that she truly belonged to him. She felt trapped by his devious cunning and the awful pressure he put on her. He was like a demon! When he enticed her husband into the barn on some ruse she was afraid he meant to hurt John. She went after him, but she was too late.