Deep in the Heart of Trouble (32 page)

“I’m sorry, Tony. I, he, it was …”

Tony gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She didn’t know what to say. Explaining there had never been an opportune time sounded hollow even to her ears. “I should have.”

“You’re right, you should have.” His voice was hoarse.

Oh, don’t cry, Tony. Please don’t cry.

“Tony—”

“Go away.”

“Please. I tried to tell you. Not once, but twice. Yet each time—”

He whirled around. “You should have tried harder. Insisted, in fact—
before
I put that ring on your finger.” He pointed toward the west. “You gave that man something you can never give again, Essie. Something that rightfully belonged to me. Why is it that every important thing that belongs to me—my inheritance, my father’s approval, my woman’s virtue—is given to someone else?”

“Tony, I—”

“Get out!” he shouted. “Get out now!”

Tears flooded her eyes. “Just like that? You don’t even want to give me a chance to explain what—”

“There is nothing you can say, Essie, to change the fact that you will come to our marriage bed soiled.”

She sucked in her breath. “Oh yes, there is.” She removed his grandmother’s ring from her finger and held it out to him. “If there is no marriage bed, I can’t very well come to it ‘soiled,’ now, can I?”

He slapped the ring, knocking it from her grasp and onto the floor somewhere. Though his hand had barely grazed her fingers, the sting of his rejection went much deeper.

She longed to explain, to make amends, but his eyes were shuttered and a barrier much more formidable than a few steel bars now stood between them.

Fortifying herself with calm resolve, she picked up the lantern and returned it to her uncle’s desk. She could feel Tony’s gaze boring into her, but she resisted looking at him. She blew out the flame, plunging the room into darkness. After a bit of fumbling, she found the door.

“Good-bye, Tony,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” Then she clicked the door shut behind her.

chapter THIRTY

ESSIE WENT straight from the jail to Uncle Melvin’s house, staying well away from the streets east of Beaton. Tony might think her loose, but she wasn’t. And she may have to accept his condemnation, but she needn’t put up with Howard’s perfidy in the meanwhile.

She knocked and didn’t have to stand on the Dunns’ front porch for very long before Melvin swung open the door. “Essie! What’s happened?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Your deputy is blackmailing me and has asked for sexual favors in exchange for his silence.”

His face registered shock. “He
what
?!”

“May I come in now?”

He widened the door.

“Mel?” Aunt Verdie said, her voice filtering down from upstairs somewhere.

“It’s business, Verdie,” he hollered. “Go back to sleep.”

Essie followed him to the kitchen. A room she’d spent many hours in as a child, a haven that held memories of laughter and love.

Lighting a lantern, he looked up and saw her tear-streaked face. He sucked in his breath, anger flushing his face. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him with my own hands. Sit down, baby, while I get Verdie to come down here with you.”

She touched his arm, stopping him. “Please. Can we just talk for a minute?”

“He’s hurt you and he’s gonna pay. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I’ve been able to hold him at bay. Nothing’s happened … yet.”

“He hasn’t touched you? Hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then why are you crying? Why are you here at one in the morning?”

“I’m here at one in the morning because the deputy said he would be waiting for me behind the house tonight and I was afraid to go home. I was crying because I went to the jailhouse and told Tony what was happening. Which then led to me telling him about Adam. Tony, he, he—” The tears came again.

Melvin reached for her, enfolding her in his embrace. “Oh, honey.”

“He doesn’t want me anymore. He told me to get out of his sight.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening again.
Why, Lord? Why? After everything I’ve been through. After accepting my singleness and living in it joyfully. Why would you dangle Tony in front of me only to snatch him away? Haven’t I been tested enough?

After a few minutes, Melvin released her, built a fire in the stove, then put a pot on to boil. She laid her arms on the table and rested her head within them.

Moments later, Melvin put a handkerchief in her hand and joined her at the table.

“Start at the beginning,” he said. “Tell me everything.”

After seeing Essie safely to her house and checking the grounds surrounding it, Melvin headed to his office. All was dark and quiet when he arrived. He lit the lantern, hoping to wake his prisoner from a sound sleep. But Morgan sat on the edge of his cot, elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands.

Just the sight of him caused Melvin’s anger to rise all over again. Unlocking the cell door, he flung it open. Tony raised his head, the splotches on his face giving evidence to the young man’s devastation. But Melvin hardened his heart. Tony wasn’t the only one devastated this night.

“You’ve got some kinda nerve,” Melvin said. “Sitting in here accused of murder like a common criminal, yet passing judgment on one of the sweetest angels God ever placed on this earth. And did that angel pass judgment on you when I hauled your lousy backside to this jail? No. No, she did not. That gal never doubted you for a minute. And how do you repay her?” Melvin took a step inside the cell. “By throwing her love right back in her face because she made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Tony asked, incredulous. “Do you know what she did?”

“I know all about it.”

“And you call that a
mistake
?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I’d call it a lot worse than that.”

“Is that so?” Melvin narrowed his eyes. “Well, sir, let me ask you a thing or two: Are you without sin? Can you throw the first stone?”

Tony didn’t answer.

“I didn’t think so.”

A tick in Tony’s jaw pulsed. “And that’s supposed to make everything all right? Because I’m human and haven’t led a sin-free life?” He jumped to his feet. “She was mine, Melvin.
Mine.
And she gave that no-account something that belonged to me and nobody else. She had no right!”

“She had every right. I’m not defending what she did. I’m not saying it was honorable, but it was her gift to give and she gave it. Are you so puffed up with yourself that you can’t come down off that high horse and forgive her?”

Tony scrambled around the table.

Melvin drew his gun. “I wouldn’t.”

Tony froze. The two stood facing each other, both breathing hard.

“I’m gonna put away my gun,” Melvin said, releasing the hammer, the sound loud in the quiet room, “but while I got your attention, let me remind you of something. Everything you have belongs to God Almighty. Your inheritance. Your freedom. Your family. Your woman. Your very life. So quit whining about losing what ‘rightfully belongs to you,’ because the truth of it is, ain’t none of it belongs to you. It belongs to Him. And the sooner you realize it, the sooner you’ll quit wallering around in this sorry state you’re in and start being thankful for whatever blessings He’s decided to bestow on you.” He shook his head. “And one of those blessings, son, is a sweet little gal by the name of Esther Spreckelmeyer. Heaven knows you don’t deserve her, but for whatever reason, you got her. And you might wanna think long and hard before you go throwin’ my baby out with the bathwater.”

The door to the office opened.

Howard entered, paused, then closed the door behind him. “Sheriff. This is a surprise. What are you doin’ here? Is everything all right?”

Melvin unbuckled his gun belt and set it on Tony’s table, gun and all.

Howard frowned. “What’re ya doing? Morgan can reach those from there.”

Melvin walked toward Howard, rolling up his sleeves. “Give me your gun, Billy John. And your badge.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Let’s have ’em.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you’re fired and I want your gun and badge before I beat the tar outta you for threatening one of the finest citizens of this town.”

Howard chuckled. “Come on, Melvin. Quit foolin’.”

“Do I look like I’m foolin’ to you, Billy John?” Melvin stopped in front of him.

Howard glanced at Tony. “Listen, I don’t know what lies Morgan’s been feedin’ you, but I haven’t threatened anybody.”

Melvin swiped Howard’s gun from its holster, cocked it and pressed it against the deputy’s chest. “Give me your badge.”

“You do this, Dunn, and I’ll tell my grandfather. You sure you want to cross the secretary of this fine state? You sure you want me to tell him how you risk the safety of this town—our entire county— by favorin’ murderers?”

Nudging Howard’s jacket aside with the gun’s nozzle, Melvin raised his other hand and ripped the star off the deputy’s shirt. “You tell your grandpa anything you like. Now, take off your gun belt.”

Howard hesitated, then unbuckled his belt and let it drop to the floor.

Melvin stepped back, opened the pistol’s cylinder and emptied it.

“You even gonna tell me who I supposedly threatened?” Howard asked.

Melvin set the empty weapon on his desk. “Yes, sir. I’m firing you because you had the audacity to threaten a woman in my town. But this,” he said, swinging his fist around and planting it deep into Howard’s gut, “is for making the mistake of threatening my niece.”

Howard was younger and prided himself on being fast with his fists, but Melvin hadn’t been sheriff for thirty years without learning a thing or two about how to handle himself in a fight.

The boy didn’t have a prayer. Melvin’s size, strength, and experience overpowered him in no time. Howard shielded his face and head with his arms, then curled up against the wall.

“That’s enough, Melvin,” Dunn heard someone say. He felt himself being pulled away.

“No more, Sheriff,” the voice said. “No more.”

Winded, Melvin looked over to find Tony holding him back.

“No more,” Tony repeated.

Melvin nodded, his own body immediately cataloging all the places Billy John’s fist had connected with during the scuffle. His eye, his jaw, his shoulder, his ribs.

Tony knelt beside Billy John. “Howard? You okay?”

“Leave me alone,” he slurred, pushing Tony away and bringing himself to his feet. He sneered at Melvin through eyes beginning to swell shut. “You’ve made a big mistake, Dunn. A big mistake.”

“Get outta my town, Billy John,” Melvin said.

“I’ll leave when I’m good and ready to leave. Maybe that’s now. Maybe it ain’t. But you can’t kick me out. I haven’t broken any law.” He glanced briefly at Tony. “But then, you don’t care about that, do you, Sheriff? You only care about protectin’ the criminals and running off the upstanding citizens, don’t ya?” Without waiting for an answer, he stumbled out the door.

Sunlight poured through the jailhouse window. A breeze that carried a hint of lilac on it rustled the papers on Tony’s table. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to concentrate on his work, but his grandmother’s ring—Essie’s ring—kept distracting him.

He’d found it in the corner of his cell and had set it on his desk. Picking it up for the hundredth time, he discovered he enjoyed touching it simply because she’d touched it, too.

Melvin’s words kept ringing in his head, but he had a hard time accepting them. Because if what Melvin said was true, then Tony had nothing and God had everything.

And there were some things Tony wanted. He wanted to be proven innocent and freed from jail. He wanted his inheritance. He wanted his father to be proud of him. He wanted his wife to be pure. No, he wanted
Essie
to be pure.

But he would never have his father’s approval and he would never be Essie’s first. He might never win his freedom and, thus, never be able to enjoy his inheritance.

So he was back where he started. With him having nothing and God having everything.

Don’t you have enough already, Lord? Do you have to have what belongs to me, too?

But deep down he knew no matter what he did or didn’t do, he had no control over any of it. But God did. And the only viable solution was to give it up to Him.

And why not? How much worse could it get? He swallowed, immediately realizing it could get a whole lot worse. He could lose Essie for good. Lose his life for good.

But even if he didn’t get her back, or if he hanged for the murder of his brother, he would at least have the comfort of knowing he’d left the decision-making up to God and not to himself.

Blowing out a breath, he silently relinquished his control and laid it at Christ’s feet. And in doing so, realized he might not ever have made his earthly father proud, but perhaps he had his heavenly Father.

The knot he’d been carrying around in his chest eased some. A shadow crossed the door to the sheriff’s office. He glanced up.

“Russ!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Walker!”

With his cell wide open, it was hard to stay put, but he did, allowing Dunn to greet the men first.

“Sheriff,” Tony said, “this is one of Morgan Oil’s finest drillers, Russ O’Berry, and my family’s attorney, Nathaniel Walker.”

Dunn shook the men’s hands. “I’ll need you to leave your weapons out here, fellas.”

Tony lifted his brows but said nothing. Men had been coming and going for days now without being relieved of weapons. Shoot, Dunn had even let Tony start shaving with a razor blade every morning.

Still, he could understand the sheriff’s caution. Not only were these fellas strangers, but Russ was a virtual giant. With his driller’s hat and boots, shoulders like an ox, and a chest like a locomotive, he’d give anyone pause.

Tony smiled. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Russ until just this moment.

Russ handed over a pistol and a bullwhip. Walker wasn’t carrying.

“Won’t you come into my parlor?” Tony asked, indicating the two ladder-back chairs in front of his table.

Russ chuckled, extending a hand. “Here I been picturing you in some dark, dank cell and look at ya. Even jail cain’t keep you down. How are ya?”

Tony clasped his best friend’s hand and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’ve been better, but I’m mighty glad to see you.”

He turned to Walker. “Good of you to come, Nathaniel.”

“You shaved your moustache.”

“I did.”

“Yes, well.” He pushed his spectacles farther up on his nose. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but there were a lot of papers to draft and prepare.”

“I understand.”

The three of them settled.

Tony looked at Russ. “How are Iva and the kids?”

“Iva’s sassy as ever and the kids are missin’ their ‘Unk Tony.’ ”

“Well, don’t you leave town without letting me give you some sarsaparilla sticks for ’em. I’ll send out for some today.”

“They’ll love that.”

Tony smiled. “How are the fields?”

“They’re pretty much running themselves these days.” He proceeded to give Tony a rundown on the wells in Beaumont—which were producing, which were drying up, and which were still being drilled. Throughout the conversation, Walker removed some papers from his satchel, fidgeted and cleared his throat.