Texas Twilight (42 page)

John felt Lily’s attention wander as she
looked down the street to her shop.

“Did you want to check on Harriett?”

He was rewarded for his astuteness with a
grateful smile. “Yes. I was just thinking that. I can go and you
stay and talk with Dustin.”

“You two go,” Dustin quickly said. “We’ll
catch up later.”

John grasped his hand again.
“Absolutely.”

Walking away, John hugged Lily’s arm tightly
to his chest. “Well, that was—”

“Nice,” she finished for him. “I am so happy
the two of you have come to an understanding.”

“The three of us, you mean.”

They were almost to the shop when Brandon
walked up from between the buildings and met them. “Don’t you dare
say a thing,” he said, warding off any teasing about his auction
extravagance.

“Okay, I won’t,” John laughed. “Where’s
Charity?”

“Putting some prizes in your office that I
won for her at the fishing booth.”

Lily glanced up. “You stay,” she said to
John. “I will check on my aunt and be right back. You can watch me
the whole way down the street.” When he tried to protest, she waved
him off.

Lily slipped the key in the front door lock
and opened the door, tinkling the little bell above. She looked up
at the four-leaf clover Dustin had given her on her opening day,
acknowledging that it had indeed brought her luck. She now had
utter happiness she would never take for granted, plus John, the
most wonderful husband in the world.

Turning, she stopped short at the silhouette
of a man leaning against the wall in her dark kitchen. He lit a
match, putting the small flame to the wick in her lantern until it
glowed, and she was able to see his face, hard-lined and hawk-like.
She didn’t recognize him.

“How did you get in?” she asked
breathlessly.

“I have my ways.”

“My aunt?”

“She’s unhurt. Asleep.”

Lily started to back up toward the door she’d
just entered. If she dashed quickly, maybe she could get out before
he pulled the gun strapped to his thigh.

“I wouldn’t try that,” he said, stopping Lily
in her tracks.

John was so close, yet so far. She wondered
if he’d hear her if she screamed. And what if he came barging in?
Would this man shoot him in cold blood? “What do you want?”

“I think you know, Miss Anthony. You didn’t
just think everyone would forget about it, did you?”

From three buildings down, John watched
Charity close the door to his office, pause for a few moments as if
listening to something, then stride over to him and Brandon. He
smiled at her nonchalance, but knew she was waiting for the teasing
words they both knew were coming. “How was your dinner?” he
quipped.

“Better than yours, I bet.” She threaded her
arm through Brandon’s and he smiled down into her face with adoring
eyes, the earlier incident all but forgotten.

“Oh, brother,” John said, chuckling inwardly
at the sight of the lovebirds. “I don’t think I’d be able to eat a
bite after dropping that kind of money. My hat’s off to you,
Charity.”

Brandon picked up her hand and kissed the
back of it. “It was worth every penny, John Jake. You just need to
learn priorities.”

Charity looked around. “What are we waiting
for?”

“Lily. She’s in the shop checking on
Harriett.”

“Who’s with her?”

“No one. Why?”

“I heard her talking to someone. A man.”

John’s heart stopped. “You sure it wasn’t
Harriett?”

They all turned, and started for the shop.
“No. Definitely not her aunt.”

John had debated about wearing his gun today,
but relived now that he had. He flipped back his coattail and
lifted it once. Wearing his firearm was a habit he’d never been
able to break, and he’d felt it especially well-advised tonight,
considering all the newcomers to town. Lily hadn’t been happy about
it, but he was glad for it now. He stopped and held up a hand.
“We’ll go through the front since it’s probably still unlocked.
I’ll go and you cover. I’m not waiting. Charity, you stay—”

“Don’t even think about it.”

Sneaking up to the door, John could hear
Lily’s voice but not what was being said. Adrenaline thrummed
through his veins. He turned the knob, relieved when it clicked
open, then dove into the room, rolling and drawing his gun at the
same time. The other man also drew, jumping behind the protection
of the wall partition.

“United States Marshall, throw down your
weapon,” called out the man in a firm voice.

Brandon was now in the shop too. “What’s your
name?” he shot back.

“Talence Smith, Boston.”

A heartbeat passed in silence, then John
asked, “Lily, you okay?”

“Yes,” she replied from where she was pressed
up against the wall.

“I’m the sheriff from Y-Knot, Montana,”
Brandon said, still not holstering his gun.

“Then you’re Brandon Crawford,” the Marshall
said. “Clarence Hockmeier sent me your way. I’ve been looking for
you.”

“Let’s all just come out into the open, nice
and easy,” Brandon said.

When the two lawmen stood eye to eye, Lily
came over and slipped into John’s arms. Charity, who’d been waiting
outside the door, came in too, and went about lighting several
lamps until the room had more than enough light to reveal
everyone’s faces.

“What’s all this about?” John asked roughly,
unable to quell his anger. “Why did you break into our home?”

“I’m here for the jewel stolen from the
Lowerbys. It’s worth a lot of money. A fortune, you might say. And,
to arrest the perpetrator.”

L
ily felt the
accusing stare of the man, and the uncertain looks on Brandon’s and
Charity’s face. She couldn’t bring herself to look at John. It
might break her heart forever to see what he was
thinking.

“
What’s
he
talking
about?”
Charity gasped. “Lily hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Someone’s going to stand trial.”

John sucked in a breath. “First off, Smith,
it’s Mrs. McCutcheon now. Secondly, my wife would never steal
anything, let alone a priceless jewel.”

“Are you telling me you know nothing of the
gem’s whereabouts?”

Lily glanced up at John then, unsure of what
he would say. Their eyes met, and locked. Perhaps he thought she’d
been lying to him all along. That she was the thief, running to a
new town, trying to escape justice. His eyes softened, then he went
over to the table and pulled out a chair. The time had come to tell
them everything. Lily took a seat and John sat beside her. The
others followed suit.

John reached out and took her hand into his
own. “Go on, Lily. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.
Let’s get this whole thing out in the open.” He looked so handsome,
so sincere. She didn’t know if she should try to say that she did
it, to protect her aunt. God only knew how long Tante would
actually live after being incarcerated. Not long at all, she was
sure.

His eyes were encouraging, his smile
bitter-sweet. “Just how it happened, sweetheart.”

Lily took a deep breath as she sent a silent
plea to God for help. For wisdom. To direct her words. To tell her
what to do. She didn’t want to lose John, or this happiness that
she’d so recently found. She didn’t want anything awful to happen
to her aunt either, in these last few years of her life.

She kept her eyes on John’s thumb as it
grazed back and forth across the back of her hand. “The night of
the big storm I finally asked Tante Harriett where the jewel had
come from. She was sad and ashamed over what she had done.”

Lily went on, retelling the story just as her
aunt had told her, never stopping until the whole thing was out.
When she was finished, she went to her cutting table and withdrew a
box from underneath and hurried back to the table. Everyone was so
quiet; she couldn’t imagine what they were thinking. From the box
she withdrew a folded piece of paper. “Here is the letter I wrote
to the Lowerbys saying how sorry we were and explaining why Tante
Harriett would do such a thing. I was going to send it, along with
the jewel, as soon as I could get their address in Boston.”

Lily then went over to her art piece hanging
on the wall. Taking a pair of small scissors from her cutting
table, she reached up and from between the many pretty beads and
buttons, and snipped off the jewel, then walked over and placed it
in the marshal’s hand.

Smith stood up, his gaze still hard. “I’ll
need to talk to your aunt, this Harriett Schmidt, and see what she
has to say.”

Lily looked at John, and he nodded. “It can’t
be helped, Lily. It’ll be okay.”

They went up the stairs in silence, John
leading the way with the lantern and the others following single
file. John stopped just outside the bedroom door. Lily turned to
look at the marshal. “Let me go in first and wake her up so she is
not frightened,” she whispered. “When she sees you she will think
you are here to arrest her.”

“She would be right.”

“Easy, Smith,” Brandon said crossly. “You
don’t know that yet.”

John nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

Lily drew a deep breath, knowing her aunt was
going to be frightened to death no matter what. At the side of the
bed, she reached down and nudged her shoulder, whispering, “Tante
Harriett. Tante Harriett, wake up.” John stood behind her, the room
dim in the one lamp’s light. When nothing happened, John stepped
forward and set the lamp on the bedside table.

The old woman looked incredibly serene.

A small smile lifted her cheeks, and she
somehow looked years younger. The peacefulness on her face was that
of an angel. As John and Lily gazed at her the realization of what
had happened hit them at the same time. Turning into John’s
embrace, Lily wrapped her arms around his body, letting out an
anguished cry.

Strains of a waltz wafted into the room
through the open window, the hauntingly sweet song of a lone
violin.

John pulled Lily closer, running his hands
down her back in comfort, nodding to the others in the hall to
leave them alone. “Shhh, Lily, sweetheart. It was her time. Look
how happy she looks.”

“I know,” she choked back, leaning into him.
“It is just that I will miss her so much. She has done so many
wonderful things for me. She brought me to you.”

John heard the downstairs door click closed.
He sat in the corner chair, pulling Lily onto his lap. He stroked
her hair as she buried her face into his neck, her tears warm on
his skin. “Go ahead and cry, darlin’. It’s okay,” he whispered,
gazing over Lily’s head at Harriett’s body in the bed. After
several minutes Lily’s cries lessened, and she stilled in his
arms.

Lily stiffened, then sat up quickly. “Did you
hear that?”

“What?”

John followed his wife to the window, where
she was gazing into the black sky. “Tante Harriett. She said to be
happy. I heard her, John, as plain as if she were still here in the
room. Didn’t you hear it?”

John wrapped his arms around her as they
looked out.

Lily gasped. “Look.”

Just as he glanced up he saw a shooting star
streak across the sky, from one side to the other, sparking as it
went.

Lily
turned and buried her face into his chest. “It
was
her! Tante Harriett said goodbye.”

The following Monday, after the funeral, a
small group gathered outside the Wells Fargo office, waiting by the
stage. The marshal, who was riding along until Denver, was already
mounted, and Charity and Brandon held the reins of their horses as
they said their goodbyes to the whole McCutcheon clan and all the
friends who’d gathered. They would travel with the stage, along
with a few more of Uncle Winston’s men, all the way to Y Knot.
Uncle Winston had insisted.

Tears streamed down Charity’s face as she
hugged Lily, then turned into her brother’s embrace. John held her
close. She was special, this sister of his. She’d come all this way
through hardship and danger just to see him, check on him after
she’d feared he was in trouble. A tightness formed in his
chest.

“I’ll miss you,” she said, still enfolded in
his arms.

He cleared his throat painfully. “And, I you.
Thank you for making the trip all the way to Rio Wells.”

She pulled back. “You better come to Y Knot
soon. Mother and father will want to meet Lily. And so will
everyone else.”

“We will.”

“Promise?”

He tweaked her red nose and noticed her
watery eyes as he struggled not to tear up himself. “You know I
will. I have a hankering to see the ranch and smell the high
mountain air.”

She nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“What about you and Brandon?” he asked,
glancing at his friend watching them with interest from a few feet
away. “Will the two of you be tying the knot soon?”

Her face flushed.

“
Charity?” He pulled her chin around with his finger so he
could see into her eyes. “What
aren’t
you telling me?”

She shrugged in the mischievous way she had,
but wasn’t able to keep a smile from her face.

“Five minutes,” the little man called out in
a scratchy voice. Several people climbed aboard the stagecoach,
waving to their loved ones.

“Charity, it’s time to go,” Brandon said,
walking up and extending his hand to John. They shook, then
embraced for several long seconds.

“Take good care of her,” John said with a
teary voice. “And yourself.”

“I plan on it,” Brandon answered. “Let us
know what happens with Shellston and his son when the judge
arrives.”

Charity looked around. “Where’s Theodore? If
he doesn’t hurry he’ll miss the stage.”