Lillian paced the floor across the room, her hands folded in front of her face and her lips moving but no words coming out. She must be praying, too.
He stood and was drawn to her. Touching her shoulder, he waited for her to open her eyes. “Why don’t we pray together?”
Tears streaked down her cheeks. She nodded, “I’d like that very much.”
Beside Jimmy’s bed, Woody took Lillian’s hands in his. His heart lurched and his stomach churned as he fought the anger and the grief. “Father, right now we come to You a mess. Lord, You know I’m dealing with my anger, and I need Your help. Thank You for bringing Jimmy through surgery and for Lillian having the wisdom to bring him in to the doctor when she did.” He swallowed back the tears. “Thank You for my boy, Lord. Help him to heal completely. But right now we are hurting and grieving for Mrs. Goodman, too. She looked really hurt. Please help the doctor to know what to do and Lord . . . please . . .”—he
sniffed—“please heal her. She means so much to this family, and she’s just an innocent woman caught in the middle of something awful. I ask, Lord, no, I’m pleading with You, that You would bring the truth to light. I ask all these things in Jesus’ name.”
Lillian’s soft voice washed over him then. “Father, thank You so much for bringing Jimmy this far. Please heal him totally. I pray that You would also help him talk again. We don’t know what’s holding him back, but, Lord, You do. I also come to You now, Lord, on behalf of Woody. He’s had to bear so much heartache and shame and lies and gossip because of all this. Please help this town and everyone around here and especially the sheriff to see the truth. We need to find the killer, Lord. And that man needs You. Because we know we’d all be in the same boat if it weren’t for You. I pray that You would heal Mrs. Goodman and that You would turn this town around for Your glory. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”
When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him with her big green eyes. Her long dark hair had come loose from the pins, and even though it was disheveled, it was natural and beautiful. She didn’t release his hands, and he was glad. Something in that moment cracked the shell around his heart. He felt closer to God, and he felt drawn to Lillian. And it didn’t hurt to feel drawn to her. There was no guilt and no heartache. Only joy and hope.
The doctor cleared his throat at the doorway. “I’d like to speak to you both about Mrs. Goodman.”
Lillian didn’t jump back in shock or pull away from him in fear. Instead, she held on to one of his hands, and they followed the doctor down the hall together. When they reached another room, he held out his hand for them to enter.
He followed them in and sat down. “Woody, I’m glad you got her here when you did. The poor woman has six broken ribs,
and one was perilously close to puncturing her lung. In fact, it’s a miracle that both her lungs weren’t punctured from these injuries.”
“Will she make it?” He felt his voice crack on the question.
The older man rubbed his neck. “I can’t say for certain, but the chances are good.” He looked down at his hands. “Once we get past the first few days. She’s got the broken ribs, a broken leg, and a broken arm and collarbone. The bruising is substantial over her whole body, and there are lacerations on her back, but miraculously there seems to be no head trauma other than that bruise on her cheek. The attacker probably slapped her.”
“It looked like he tried to strangle her, too,” Woody added. “I saw marks on her neck.”
The doctor nodded. “I saw them, too, but it doesn’t appear the man caused much damage. He didn’t crush the windpipe. Maybe he heard someone coming and stopped. Hopefully she wasn’t long without air. We should know in a few days. I’m giving her some medicine to see that she rests without pain.”
“But we need for her to tell us who did this.” Lillian stepped forward. “I don’t want her to hurt, but neither do I want them to take Woody to jail for something he didn’t do.”
The doctor looked at her and then turned his focus to Woody. “I believe you when you say you had nothing to do with this, but Mrs. Goodman is in no shape to be questioned. It’s going to have to wait. I’ll let the sheriff know that, too.”
Woody ran his hand through his hair. “Is there anything we can do?”
The doctor shrugged. “She will be in a great deal of pain for several weeks. That will be the hardest. And then the lack of mobility will frustrate her, I’m sure. As long as there hasn’t been any major internal bleeding, I think she will recover. But again, it will take a great deal of time.”
Woody leaned in and touched his housekeeper’s hand. “She’s a fighter. I know that. Do whatever it takes. I’ll pay you whatever it costs.”
The doctor shook his head. “I’m not worried about money right now. For the time, our challenge will be to get her past these first few days.”
Woody looked back to the doctor. “You said,
once
we get past the first few days. Exactly what did you mean?”
The doctor sighed and his brow furrowed. “There’s so much we don’t know about the brain. As I said, I couldn’t find any apparent trauma to the head, but she appears to be comatose—whether that is from the intense amount of pain she is enduring or from the physical trauma to her body, I don’t know. As I mentioned, I will keep her medicated to keep her from as much pain as possible, but we also want her to regain consciousness. That is very important. If she doesn’t wake up in the next few days, I will be less optimistic about the outcome.”
Lillian put a hand to her mouth and sobbed.
Woody pulled her into his arms and looked at the doctor. “Thank you, doctor. I’m so sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”
The man nodded.
Woody nodded as well. “And thank you for all you’ve done for my son and for Mrs. Goodman. She’s an important part of our family.”
The doctor rubbed his neck. “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to try to get some rest. My quarters are just upstairs, so please ring the bell if you see that either of the patients needs anything. I would ask that someone stays with each of them, as these next few hours are crucial.”
Lillian took a deep breath and faced the doctor. “Thank you,
sir. We can trade off. I’d like to stay with Mrs. Goodman for a bit if that’s all right.”
The doctor touched her shoulder. “Keep talking to her. It might help her wake up.”
She nodded and the doctor left.
Woody still had his arm draped around her shoulders and didn’t want to leave her, but he knew it was what they needed to do. “Will you be all right?”
She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks. “Yes. I just need to pull myself together. I was so worked up over Jimmy earlier and now Mrs. Goodman. I think my emotions are catching up with me.”
“That’s understandable.” He squeezed her shoulder again. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”
Woody dreaded leaving her, but he ached to see his son again. The morning, he feared, would bring his toughest day yet. The sheriff wanted to blame him not only for beating Mrs. Goodman but also for killing his wife. And the townspeople seemed riled up enough to become a lynch mob.
As he sat beside his son’s bed, he brushed the light brown hair off the boy’s forehead. God had given him so much. There was a time, even recently, when Woody was too tired to fight. He’d been ready to give up. His grief and burdens too much to bear. But things were different now.
He didn’t know how God would do it, but Woody knew that He could. The storm might be coming, but if he could weather it, there just might be something beautiful on the other side.
He hoped and prayed that it would be so.
Glancing out the window, he saw the sun coming up.
Lord, the only way I’m going to make it through this is with Your strength. I don’t have it. Please help
us all.
. . .
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
T
HREE
B
anging in the distance brought Lillian out of a deep sleep. Who was knocking? Where was she? As she sat up, the events of the past day collided with her brain. She stretched and looked at Mrs. Goodman. The woman hadn’t moved at all.
Lillian leaned in and kissed the older woman’s cheek. “I love you, dearie. I’ll be right back.”
She attempted to smooth her dress, but it was a rumpled mess after the last day and night, and she really didn’t care. But the closer she got to the door, the more noise she heard. And it wasn’t a pleasant sound.
The doctor was already there. With his hands out. “Now what seems to be the problem? I’ve got patients in here who need their rest to recover, and your ruckus is not helping the situation.”
Lillian came up behind him and watched the sheriff strut up the steps. “I’m here to arrest Mr. Woody Colton.”
She burst forward. “On what charges?”
“Attempted murder and murder!”
The crowd roared with voices and cheers.
She shook her head and crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous, sheriff, and you know it.”
“I know no such thing, young lady. Now, I did what you suggested and interviewed Mr. Colton’s men.” He waved his arm.
Lillian watched as Sam, Miguel, and the others came forward. “Good.”
“And with their testimony, I’m here to arrest Mr. Colton.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe this man. She wanted to wring his neck but knew that wasn’t a very Christian thought.
The doctor turned to her. “Go get Mr. Colton. I’ll keep everyone outside.”
She nodded and hurried down the hallway. When she got to Jimmy’s room, the boy’s eyes were open and he was smiling at his pa. But Woody was fast asleep in the chair, his head leaned back against the wall. She went to Jimmy and kissed his forehead. “I need your father, and then I’ll be right back, all right?”
The little boy nodded and closed his eyes.
Lillian tapped Woody’s shoulder, but he didn’t budge. “Woody,” she half whispered. “Woody. Wake up!”
Still nothing.
So she got closer and ran her hand down his face and patted his cheek. “Woody.” Inches from him, she was startled when he opened his eyes. Those chocolate-brown eyes drew her in, and she wanted to sob in his arms. But now wasn’t the time. She had to be strong.
“The sheriff is here.” She backed away and waited for him at the door.
The soft look that had been in his eyes as he awakened slowly turned hard. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to be pretty, Lillian. I need you to watch over Jimmy and Mrs. Goodman for me until it’s all cleared up.”
Having already heard the sheriff’s intentions, she nodded. “I’ll be by your side, Woody.”
“I appreciate that.”
He looked down at Jimmy. “I had been waiting for you to wake up.” He smiled. “You are one tough little guy. I know your throat is sore, but the doctor tells me that’s going to pass in a few days. Then we’ll get you home to Mr. Whiskers.” Jimmy reached out and squeezed Woody’s hand and returned his father’s smile.
Woody’s joy faded, however, as he glanced at Lillian and then sighed. “Son, things are going to get kind of rough for a little while. Some of the people out there think I’m to blame for hurting your mama and Mrs. Goodman.”
Jimmy’s face scrunched, and he shook his head and looked at Lillian as if for answers. She came to his side. “Someone hurt Mrs. Goodman, but she’s all right.” Tears came to the boy’s eyes and his lip quivered.
Woody reached out and gently turned Jimmy’s face toward his. “Son, I need you to be strong and pray. Miss Lillian will take care of you and Mrs. Goodman until I can be back with you.” He leaned down and kissed the boy’s forehead. “I love you.”
Jimmy nodded, but remained mute.
Woody took Lillian’s elbow and led her toward the door.
As they reached the front, Lillian knew he’d heard what people were saying out in the street. They walked out onto the porch together. The doctor closed the door behind them, giving Lillian a sad smile. She grabbed on to Woody’s arm.
The sheriff came forward again. “You’re under arrest, Colton.”
“And what are the charges?” This came from George Stickle. He and a group of Woody’s supporters came forward.
She felt Woody’s arm flex under her fingers. But he remained calm, his face an emotionless mask.
“Attempted murder and murder. What did you think?” The lawman spat on the ground.
George shook his head. “We heard what happened, and we think you’re jumpin’ the gun here.”
The crowd supporting Hobart moved closer.
“Your men are here, Woody,” Lillian whispered to him.
Woody spoke up. “What did my men have to say, sheriff? Didn’t you get their testimonies?”
“I shore did, Colton. Two of them hadn’t seen you for hours, and while Sam’s story corroborates yours, it still doesn’t prove you didn’t beat Mrs. Goodman.” The sheriff smiled and pulled Miguel toward him. “But see, it’s Miguel’s testimony that really turned things around.”
The sweet man who’d worked for Woody for years held his arms out and looked as if he wanted to cry. “I didn’t say anything against Mr. Colton, sheriff. He’s a good man.”
The sheriff laughed. “Ah, but what you did say clinched it for me.”
Lillian didn’t like this man. How could he be a man of the law and be so horrible? “What exactly did Miguel say?” She knew the worker would never tell a lie against his boss.
“He told me that he saw Mr. Colton carry Mrs. Goodman out of the house, and her blood was on his hands.”
The sheriff’s supporters went wild with questions and accusations and horrible words for Woody. Lillian gasped, shaking her head. “But he was carrying Mrs. Goodman. She was bleeding, so of course Woody had blood on his hands! Miguel was coming in answer to the bell. He didn’t just happen to see Woody sneaking off with Mrs. Goodman’s unconscious body.
Why would Woody bother to ring the bell for help if he wanted Mrs. Goodman dead?” She’d heard the whole story from Woody the night before.
“To cover his own tracks!” The sheriff hurled himself forward and grabbed Woody’s arms.
As Woody’s arm was yanked from her grasp, Lillian watched his eyes. She didn’t know how, but somehow he was remaining calm. Even as the sheriff handcuffed him.