By Starlight (10 page)

“This is the basement of the mercantile,” Clayton explained. “You remember, don’t ya? Silas Aldridge’s place.”

Jack’s eyes widened as the bottom fell out of his stomach. He’d been in the mercantile’s basement before and, now that he looked closely, he saw that Clayton was telling the truth. Confusion tore through him like a storm. How could Silas Aldridge be involved in something like this? Though he remembered how much the man hated him, it was simply impossible for Jack to imagine that a man as honest as Maddy’s father was would willingly break the law.

But before Jack could try to comprehend what he was seeing, he began to realize that his arrival was attracting attention. It started as a ripple, one or two faces noticing him, their gaze lingering long enough to recognize him, before it seemed as if everyone at the tables nearest the front door was staring, their mouths open. Slowly, he began to hear them whispering.

“…thought he’d never come back…”

“I’m tellin’ you it’s him…it’s Jack Rucker…”

“…doesn’t look a bit different…”

While more and more of the speakeasy’s patrons began to turn in his direction, someone jumped up out of his seat, shook Jack’s hand, clapped him on the shoulder, and offered to buy him a drink. Within seconds, it seemed as if the whole room stood beside him, a sea of voices washing over him in waves. He hadn’t known what sort of a reception he’d get, but all the friendly smiles and faces genuinely touched him.

It was standing there, surrounded by people he’d once known as well as himself, that Jack was reminded of how wonderful it felt to be surrounded by friends and loved ones. For a moment, he forgot all about doing whatever it took to get ahead, the pressure of chasing a promotion, and the cold calculating involved with reaching for the next rung on the ladder. He was honestly surprised by how nice it felt.

More and more people rose to greet him; it felt like the whole bar. He saw a few women glance nervously toward the bar, but before he could wonder what they could be looking at the whole mob headed in that direction, a few of the men nearly coming to blows over who would buy the first round of drinks.

But then, just in front of the bar, voices began to fall silent; in seconds, there wasn’t a sound to be heard except for the scratch of the record player’s needle as it played Al Jolson. Before him, the crowd began to part. What he saw when the last person moved out of his way made his heart stop, then thunderously pound in his chest; it was as if he’d been slugged in the stomach, all of the air driven from his lungs, leaving him gasping and helpless.

There, standing behind the bar with a bottle of whiskey in her hand, was Maddy.

MADDY HAD JUST FINISHED
pouring Seth Pettigrew a glass of whiskey when she noticed a commotion at the front of the speakeasy. There were too many people crowding around for her to see what was happening, but she could still see Sumner, and from the look on his face, he was anything but happy. Still, everyone else was smiling and pointing, rising from their chairs to join in on the fun, far different from the reception Sheriff Utley had received when he’d unexpectedly shown up a few nights earlier.

“Tastes as good as if it were the nectar of heaven itself,” Seth declared as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, setting the empty glass down on the makeshift counter. Whispering to Maddy, he added, “But don’t tell Reverend Fitzpatrick I said that. I wouldn’t want him to think I’m a blasphemer.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She smiled.

Ever since she’d arrived at the speakeasy, Maddy had regretted coming. Everything she did took effort; smiling at the customers, listening to Seth ramble on about cases he’d tried years earlier, and even the music on the record player unnerved her. When Karla had dropped a tray of glasses she’d cleared off of a table, Maddy had nearly jumped out of her skin.

Even Jeffers’s absence wasn’t enough to brighten her mood. She’d been surprised to discover that he wouldn’t be at the speakeasy tonight; he always insisted on being there from the moment the first customer arrived until the last one left. Sumner would only say that he’d been called away on business and that he’d be back the next night. Normally, she would’ve been thrilled that he wasn’t skulking in the shadows, looking like he was about to tear some poor customer limb from limb.

But it wasn’t enough to put a smile on her face or still the whirlwind of thoughts whipping around her head. She kept thinking about what her father had said about Jack, the money problems of the store, Jack, the dangers of being caught running a speakeasy, Jack, and then Jack some more.

Maybe I should’ve let Helen come instead…Maybe I shouldn’t be here.

“Maddy?” Seth asked, coughing into his fist to get her attention.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, startled. “I’m sorry. My head was somewhere else.”

“That’s quite all right, my dear.” He smiled. “I was just saying that now that we’ve agreed to keep a secret from the good reverend, I thought I might celebrate with another drink.”

Maddy laughed. “What better way?”

“Indeed!”

Reaching for the whiskey bottle, Maddy noticed that the mob of people was making its way toward the bar. But no matter how closely she looked, she still couldn’t understand what all of the fuss was about. A strange sensation began to worm its way down her spine, similar to what she’d felt earlier that night, walking the streets in darkness. It was like someone was watching her, but
different
. It made her feel uncomfortable, as if something bad was about to happen.

“Better make it a double,” Seth said, “on account of the occasion.”

Maddy was about to pour when she realized that the speakeasy had fallen silent. Looking up, she was surprised to see dozens of faces were turned toward her. Half of the room seemed to be standing just in front of her, on the other side of the bar. Slowly, a couple of men stepped to the side, showing her exactly why there’d been such a commotion.

It was Jack.

Maddy stood dumbstruck, her heart thundering, her breath trapped in her chest, and her thoughts empty and aflame all at the same time; she was vaguely aware that Jack looked every bit as shocked as she did. No one said a word. Through a haze, Maddy set down the whiskey bottle, walked out from behind the bar, and stood in front of Jack. She felt as if she were dreaming, walking on air and not herself; she wondered if she wouldn’t wake up and discover that she hadn’t gone to the speakeasy at all, that she was in her bed at home, because what she was seeing was impossible.

“Maddy…,” Jack said weakly.

She couldn’t answer. Instead, she looked into his green eyes, searching out all of the things that had changed about him with the passage of years. There were a few more lines and creases around his eyes. His hair was longer than she remembered and a bit darker. He looked stronger, thicker across his chest and shoulders. Still, she couldn’t help but notice how much there remained of the young man who’d left Colton seven years before, whom she’d thought she would never see again.

Convinced that she
was
dreaming, Maddy reached out her hand, the ends of her fingertips shaking slightly, and placed it against Jack’s chest; she couldn’t stifle a gasp when they touched. Unbidden tears rose in her eyes as she looked up at him. Slowly, he began to smile.

And that was when she slapped him.

The sound of the blow was surprisingly loud, filling the cellar. There were a few gasps that quickly faded, leaving only the record on the phonograph to fill the silence, playing a slow ballad about lost love. Jack recoiled from the slap, reacting more out of surprise than pain.

Maddy was as shocked as anyone by what she’d done. She’d reacted without thinking, hitting him so hard her hand ached. Staring into his eyes, seeing his sorrow as he looked back, she couldn’t keep herself from trembling. For a long moment, time stood still. She knew everyone was looking at them, the whole speakeasy wondering what was going to happen next, but as far as Maddy was concerned, she and Jack were the only two people in the room.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, his voice a low whisper.

Those two simple words were enough to shatter the dam she’d placed around her churning thoughts. Tears filled her eyes as the first sob clenched her chest. And so, there in the basement of her father’s mercantile, in front of everyone,
in front of Jack
, she did the only thing that made any sense.

She turned and ran.

For an instant Jack wondered if he shouldn’t just let Maddy go. The truth was, he never imagined she’d be there, not in the illegal speakeasy in the cellar of her father’s store! He knew now that it had been she he’d seen walking the darkened streets, and that she’d been heading here. His head was spinning from what all of that meant.

I’m a lawman and she’s behind the bar of a speakeasy.

Seeing him again had upset her more than he’d anticipated. The slap she’d given him was unexpected yet not undeserved. In his head, he knew she needed time to digest his return, time to yet again soothe the wounds he’d given her years before. But the urge to talk to her was too great to ignore; it banished all of his earlier worries and compelled him to race after her.

“Maddy, wait!” he shouted, but she was halfway across the room and didn’t look back.

Hurrying after her, Jack saw the faces of those around him change; the smiles that had blossomed at seeing him after so many years slid into frowns, another reminder of what he’d done to Maddy.

Sumner, the thin, scraggly man who’d been so difficult when Jack and Clayton arrived, looked completely taken aback by what was happening. He halfheartedly tried to stop Maddy, but she brushed past him, threw open the door, and ran up the stairs. When Sumner saw Jack approaching behind her, he seemed more determined to assert his authority, bracing his feet and looking willing to fight.

“Now, just you hold on a second,” he ordered.

“Get the hell out of my way,” Jack snarled, shouldering into the smaller man and knocking him to the side. Taking the steps two at a time, Jack was up the cellar stairs, staring out into the night, trying to figure out where Maddy had gone.

There was no sign of her in the inky darkness. He strained to hear a sound, anything that would tell him where she’d gone. Faintly, he heard footsteps off to his right, so without hesitation he again raced after her.

Desperation gripped him. He’d spent the days after Lieutenant Pluggett told him he’d be returning to Colton dreading what would happen if he ran into Maddy, but now that he had, all he wanted was to have her before him again, to be able to talk to her, to say something that might ease the pain he was now all too aware of having caused.

But he had to catch her to get the chance.

Jack raced down an alleyway, dodged an old crate but accidentally caught the edge of a barrel in the hip, momentarily slowing him. Over the pounding of his heart and the panting of his breath, he listened for Maddy’s footfalls. He ran from one intersection of alleys to another, across the street beside the Lutheran church, and then back into another gloomy space between two buildings. He’d have thought he would’ve caught up to her already, but fear must’ve been pushing her forward. Finally, he came to Main Street. From the mouth of an alley, the light from the stars and the sliver of moon made the town appear strangely bright. He saw Maddy right away; she was across the street, only a hundred yards away. He’d catch her in an instant, and then he could tell her that—

Suddenly a hand clamped down hard on Jack’s shoulder. Without a second’s thought, he spun, throwing a cocked fist, and saw a pair of wide, surprised eyes looking back at him. He felt his punch crash into his mysterious assailant’s face, the sound of cartilage breaking filling the alley. With a groan, a man crashed onto his back in the dirt, his arms limp at his sides, his mouth open, unconscious. It was all over before Jack had any idea what’d happened. Peering down into the gloom, he discovered that he’d floored Sumner.

“Damn it all,” Jack hissed.

Turning back to the street, he no longer saw Maddy. He took a couple of hesitant steps but then stopped. Though she was out of sight, he knew she couldn’t have gotten far. Finding her would be little trouble; either she’d be home or she’d go to the bridge they’d once shared, but he was slowly coming to realize that confronting her now would only make things worse. He had to let her go.

“Hell…and holy water…,” someone swore behind him before giving a low whistle. “What in tarnation…happened here…?”

Jack looked back and found Clayton leaning down over Sumner, his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

“He startled me. Came up from behind and put a hand on my shoulder. I hit him before I even knew what was happening.” Jack took a deep, frustrated breath. Why was he following me, anyway?”

“I don’t think…he took too kindly to the way you…​pushed him aside…,” Clayton said. “Either that…or he went a runnin’ for the same reason I did…He just had to know…what happened…”

“He shouldn’t have grabbed me like that.”

“I reckon he’d do it different if’n he had the chance,” Clayton said with a grin. “Remind me never to surprise you in a dark alley.”

“It was an accident,” Jack insisted.

“Oh, I believe you, but I doubt Jeffers is gonna be as understandin’ when he learns you knocked out his right-hand man. He ain’t the forgivin’ type. When he finds out, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Is Jeffers as bad as he used to be?”

“Worse,” Clayton answered. “Rotten to the core and then some. Most folks steer clear of him day or night. Shows you how bad we all want a drink if’n we’re willin’ to set foot in Jeffers’ speakeasy to get it.”

Suddenly things fell into place in Jack’s mind, sending a sickening feeling racing across his gut. “That’s Jeffers’ place?” he asked, shocked. “What the hell is he doing in Silas Aldridge’s cellar?”

“I don’t know for certain if Silas is in on it, on account of he ain’t round much anymore. Word round town is he’s sick,” Clayton replied, looking away from Jack as he added, “but there ain’t no doubt that Maddy’s a part of it, is there…”

Jack held his tongue. What could he say? Clayton was right. Jack had seen it with his own eyes; Maddy had been
behind the bar
, she’d had a bottle of whiskey in her hand when he’d first seen her, and it was her father’s cellar. What other explanation could there be? She was involved in Jeffers’s illegal liquor operation.

And I was sent here by the Bureau to do a job…and if I do it, Maddy will be put behind bars…

“I reckon part of this is my fault,” Clayton said.

“How do you figure?”

“ ’Cause I knew Maddy was there,” he replied. “Hell, she’s poured me a few drinks since the place opened, but I was so happy to see you I plumb forgot ’bout the history ’tween you, which is pretty stupid of me ’cause there ain’t no one in town don’t ’member how the two of you was together, or how hard it was on her when you left. I shouldn’t have took you there.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jack replied honestly.

“I feel bad ’bout it all the same,” Clayton admitted. “Tell you what, how ’bout we go back and
I’ll
buy the first drink.”

“I appreciate it, but I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

“You sure? After all you done been through, I reckon you’ve earned a drink or two.”

“Maybe some other time.”

“Fair enough.” Clayton nodded. “But what’re we gonna do ’bout him?” he asked, nodding down at Sumner. “Maybe we oughta get him back to the speakeasy.”

“Leave him,” Jack said. “When he comes around, he’ll be madder than a bee with a bear’s paw stuck in its hive. It’ll be better if we’re as far away from him as possible when that happens.”

“Sounds like good advice to me,” Clayton agreed.

They said their good-byes and Jack headed back into the night, thinking about how some folks would look at what had happened to him as a stroke of good luck, but to him it seemed nothing but the worst.

Maddy finally stopped running only when she made it home. Even then, she expected Jack to be right behind her. Ever since she’d left the speakeasy, she’d heard him running to catch her; whenever she looked over her shoulder, he’d been there, relentless, getting ever closer, but she’d lost sight of him when crossing Main Street and hadn’t seen him since.

But that didn’t mean she was safe.

Resting against the gate in the picket fence her father had built with his own hands before the arthritis had robbed him of their use, Maddy stared up the walk at the darkened house. Everything was still and silent. She realized that no one inside, not Helen or her father, knew what had happened to her.

Maddy looked up at the second floor window and her bedroom beyond. Years earlier, she’d sneaked out of that very window to be with Jack; now, all she wanted was to get back inside. For a moment she had the hope that it was all an unwelcome dream, that at any moment she’d wake, the sun on her face, and look out the window at where she now stood and find no one there.