Part 23 (1/2)
Who could have killed Troy and why? The notion that Troy had been blackmailing anyone was fantastic. She wouldn't have paid any attention to it if anybody other than Madison had mentioned it. But everything he mentioned had a disconcerting way of proving to be true. She had to know if he was right this time as well.
And she meant to find out tonight.
Chapter Fifteen.
Fern waited impatiently in her room. Rose had sent the brothers to the Drovers Cottage so their discussion wouldn't keep everybody awake. Rose had gone to bed, but Mrs. Abbott still moved about the house.
Fern peered out the window into the dark and windy night. Now was a perfect time to slip out of town un.o.bserved.
She intended to go to the Connor place, and she didn't want anyone to know. She needed to know about the soddy. She had to convince herself that Madison had been right when he said no one could have seen to shoot Troy. Maybe the witness was lying in hopes of getting money. Everybody knew the Randolphs were rich.
Finally, she heard a door close at the back of the house and knew that Mrs. Abbott had gone to her room. Without wasting a second, Fern slipped out of her room, tiptoed along the hall and out the front door Mrs. Abbott had left unlocked for George.
Madison had stabled her horse at Tom and Richard Everett's Twin Livery Stable. That was practically across town. She would have to pa.s.s the Drovers Cottage. She could only hope that no one would recognize her.
Fern walked quickly along Second Street, careful to avoid shafts of light coming from several windows, until she came to Buckeye Street. She paused only a minute before she turned left and started north toward the railroad tracks at a brisk pace. She pulled her hat further down over her eyes. She wore her darkest, baggiest clothes.
At least the saloons were down on Texas Street, far enough away so she probably wouldn't pa.s.s any cowboys. She could never pa.s.s them without being recognized.
She slowed her steps as she approached Texas Street and the Drovers Cottage, but she saw no one on the porch. Ducking her head, she hurried past.
There was no cover now until she reached the livery stable a hundred yards away. The huge open area on either side of the railroad tracks offered not the slightest cover.
Tom Everett was at the stable.
”I wouldn't be going out if I was you,” he said when she told him she wanted him to saddle her horse. ”It's working itself up to a real blow out there.”
”I know, but I've got to check on the farm. Papa's away for a couple of days.”
”Shouldn't be riding off into the night, either,” Tom said. ”What if something was to happen to you?”
”I've been riding over this country any time of the day or night since I was six. Why should I stop now?”
”If you was to fall off your horse, there wouldn't be n.o.body to find you until morning.”
Fern opened her mouth to say she never fell off her horse, but by now everybody in Abilene knew why she was staying at Mrs. Abbott's house.
I could get myself back. My ribs are almost healed.”
Minutes later she was in the saddle and headed out of town. She had to pa.s.s the Drovers Cottage once more, but she felt relaxed this time. In the saddle, she looked like any other farmhand.
She felt for her rifle to make certain it was in place. She never used it, but since that night eight years ago, she hadn't gone out at night without it.
”Until we find out who killed Troy Sproull, no one's going to believe Hen's innocent,” Madison said. ”They're more likely to believe we paid Eddie Finch to lie for us.”
George had found a soddy out on the prairie where they could keep Eddie until the hearing. It was far enough from town that no one could hear a shout for help. But so far George's cowhands had managed to convince Eddie he'd be happier not shouting at all.
”Especially since money's exactly what the witness wants,” George said.
”Hen could always go back to Texas,” Madison suggested.
”I don't run away,” Hen said, looking straight at Madison.
”That's no way to show your appreciation,” George chided.
”Don't stop him,” Madison said. ”Let him get it out of his system.” ''I'll never forget waking up and finding you gone,” Hen said, the familiar anger blazing in his eyes.
”There are things I won't forget either,” Madison shot back. ”If I didn't like hunting cows, or riding in the boiling sun until I was too tired to see straight, or tearing my body apart wrestling with wild steers, you couldn't wait to tell me what a poor figure of a man I was. Whenever I mentioned wanting to go back to school, or you caught me reading a book or trying to clean up that pigpen we lived in, you used to say it was a shame I hadn't been born a girl.”
”I don't remember plaguing you so much.”
”It was such a habit I doubt you even heard yourself. It was like having two of Pa around all the time.”
Hen rose to his feet, coldly furious. ”I'll kill you if you ever say I'm like him again.”
”You can shoot me where I stand, but the truth isn't going to disappear just because you don't want to hear it,” Madison said.
”You were always cutting at Monty,” Hen accused. ”You knew he couldn't retaliate except by getting mad or getting into a fight. You knew he couldn't do that without hurting Ma. That was a coward's way.”
”Was it any better than your doing everything you could to prove I couldn't measure up to your standards? The more I tried, the more you despised me.”
”We didn't despise you,” Hen said.
Just like Pa, Madison thought. G.o.d, how he hated that man, but it seemed he ran into him no matter where he turned. ”Pa did his best to make me hate myself. Why do you think I begged to go away to school? Why do you think I was nearly crazy when I had to come home? Living with you and Monty was just like living with him.” ”You left because of Monty and me?” Hen asked. Madison wanted to answer with a shout. For years he had tried to force Monty and Hen to admit to their brutality. Being able to ride and shoot and rope had never given Madison any sense of accomplishment. The twins could do all of it better. But the things he could do didn't give him a sense of self-worth because his father had scorned them.
Now he had a chance to pay off an old score, maybe heal an old wound, and he couldn't. He couldn't remember ever seeing Hen vulnerable. He had thought that both Hen's and Monty's souls, if they had any, were encased in leather. Now he could see that the leather had cracks in it. If he could make Hen believe he had driven him away, Hen would never forgive himself.
Madison admitted he had never had much understanding for anyone but himself, much sympathy for anyone except George. Maybe trying to understand Fern had made the difference, but for the first time in his life he could sense some of his brother Hen's torment. He didn't know the cause, but he could see the pain.
No matter what Hen and Monty had done, nothing he said now could change it. If they were to have any chance of being a family again, they had to forget the past.
He didn't have to look at George to know how he felt. Dear George, he cared so much and tried so hard to keep them together. Would he ever see the day when they would be a real family again?
Madison doubted it, but he didn't want to be the one to destroy George's dream.
”No. I left because I had to.”
Madison saw the crack close. The precious soul inside was safe for a while yet. He was glad he hadn't hurt Hen. He couldn't hurt him without hurting himself just as much.
”About the only time I felt human was when I sat with Ma,” Madison said. ”Sometimes I would read to her. Other times I would just listen to her talk, mostly about when she was young. Can you understand any of that?”
Hen didn't answer. In fact, he didn't seem to be listening at all. Madison knew there was no way his brothers were going to understand him. And until they did, they would never be able to forgive him. He didn't know why he bothered. Living so far away, it shouldn't be important.
But it was. He finally knew why he had left Boston. He had been looking for a way to ask their forgiveness.
He walked over to the window and looked out, reluctant to face Hen, yet anxious for his answer.