And business had stayed active. Things had been quiet at the beginning of the week, but on Thursday and then again today, she and Jeanette had run their legs off. Cassidy would be headed to the bank for Jeanette, who wanted to head straight home because she was having company. There was an impressive amount of cash to deposit. Indeed Cassidy was just about to head out when the door opened.
“Hello, Cassie!” Edson Sinclair greeted cordially, not having changed at all.
Cassidy didn’t speak but watched Neal come in behind Edson. He shut the door and locked it.
“What are you doing here, Edson?” Cassidy asked, knowing that Jeanette had come from the rear of the store.
“Ah, you’re both together,” Edson said by way of an answer. “Perfect. I’ll tell you, Cass, you’ve been one busy little lady.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mama shared your letters with me. She was thrilled to see me and tell me you’d sold your shop and gotten engaged.”
“Mama shared my letters with you because you tried to lie about having been here,” Cassidy spoke plainly.
“Oh.” Edson’s voice was almost comical. “She wrote about that, did she?”
“Yes. Now I want you to leave.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Edson’s voice became silky, and Cassidy’s heart began to pound a little faster. She watched Neal move toward Jeanette and tried to step in, but Edson caught her arm in a surprising grip.
“Now you listen, Cassidy Norton,” Edson snarled, his voice low with fury. “You’re going to do just what I say, or Neal is going to use that knife on Mrs. Fulbright’s throat. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Cassidy said, her eyes watching Jeanette’s face drain of color as Neal took hold of her. The knife was already in his hand, and Cassidy began to shake.
“Please don’t hurt her,” she begged softly, remembering what had happened to Abi.
“We won’t have to if you’ll head to the bank.”
“The bank?” Cassidy was confused for a moment.
Edson gave her arm an angry shake. “Yes, the bank! You’re going to withdraw the money Mrs. Fulbright paid you for the business and bring it back to me. You have fifteen minutes to do this, or Neal uses his knife.”
Cassidy looked at him, her eyes huge. “Edson,” she tried. “It will never work. I never take that much out. Please let Jeanette go.”
“Shut up!” he barked. “You’re a great little pretender, coming to this town and setting up a business in a false name. You can fool anyone with those big, blue eyes. Now you do as I say, or the old woman dies.”
Cassidy could see he was completely serious. She nodded, but Edson gave her arm one more squeeze.
“Fifteen minutes, Cassie. Don’t be late, and don’t try anything funny.”
Cassidy looked into Jeanette’s face, seeing her fear but also that she was trying to be brave. Her look gave Cassidy the courage to shoot out the door. She had fifteen minutes to help her friend, praying all the while that nothing would go wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CASSIDY MANAGED THE WALK TO THE BANK, albeit rather swiftly. She entered the door calmly enough and made a beeline for Chandler. Unfortunately, his first remark completely rattled her.
“Cassie, where is your coat?”
“What?” she asked, not realizing she looked as upset as she felt.
“Your coat? It’s freezing out.”
“Oh, I’m all right,” she said and tried to smile. “Chandler, I need to make a withdrawal.”
“Okay. How much?”
“Five hundred.”
“Dollars?” Chandler questioned her, alarms going off in his mind.
“Yes, and I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“Cassidy, something is wrong,” Chandler said.
“That’s right,” Cassidy said, not sure that Edson had not followed her and might be watching from across the street.
“Where is Jeanette?” Chandler asked.
“At the shop,” Cassidy didn’t hear the high timber of her voice. “Please, Chandler. Please get the money.”
Chandler went behind the counter, knowing something was very wrong but gathering the bills. He didn’t want to send the money with her, but any amount was worth far less than her life or Jeanette’s.
“Are you sure, Cassidy?” Chandler asked when he had the money ready.
Cassidy took it and looked at him, her eyes begging. “Please just go back to work, Chandler. Nothing can go wrong.”
Chandler took a seat as soon as Cassidy turned from his desk, but his eyes were on the windows. As soon as Cassidy moved out of sight, he would find Sheriff Kaderly.
Trace pulled the wagon to a stop outside Cassidy’s shop the way he always did. The weather was getting cold these days, and he turned to make sure he’d remembered the blankets. Not until that moment did he see the sign in the shop window that said it was closed. Trace didn’t think he was running late but then remembered that Jeanette had plans to change the days and times.
All thoughts of this went out of his head, however, when he looked up to see Cassidy walking swiftly toward him. In the back of his mind he too wondered where her coat was, but at the moment he was just glad to see her.
“Hey, Cass.”
“What are you doing here?” Cassidy blurted, not having seen him until he spoke.
“What am I doing here?” Trace asked, wondering what he’d done wrong. It took a moment for him to really see Cassidy’s face.
“What is it, Cassidy?”
“Edson and Neal,” she said in a rush. “They have Jeanette.”
“Inside?”
“Yes.”
Trace’s eyes flicked to the window and saw nothing. Without moving his body or his head, he said, “Stand right there, Cass. My rifle is in the wagon.”
“Neal has a knife,” she whispered, shaking almost violently. “He’ll use it.”
“When I give the sign, do as they told you. I’ll be coming in right behind you.”
Trace moved to the wagon, fear gripping him that he was being watched, but knowing he didn’t have a choice. Cassidy had stopped outside the door, but when Trace nodded to her, she tried the handle. It was locked, and it took a moment for Edson to open it. When he did, he found the barrel of a rifle coming over his sister’s shoulder directly into his face.
“Easy now,” Edson said, backing his way into the room.
“That’s what you need to tell your friend,” Trace countered. He’d already entered, pushed Cassidy behind him, and watched Neal’s knife come to Jeanette’s throat.
“We just want our money,” Edson tried.
“Who’s money?” Trace asked to stall.
“The money Cassidy said I could have,” Edson lied.
“Or you’ll what?” Trace had his eyes only on Neal now. “Kill my aunt? I can’t let you do that. Or maybe—” Trace suddenly swung the rifle until it was nearly touching Edson’s nose, not bothering to finish the sentence. “Now how about you tell Neal to drop the knife.”
“You heard him,” Edson said, not bothering to hide his fear. “Let her go.”
“We can do this,” Neal urged, saying his first words.
“No, Neal,” Edson said, studying the eyes of the man with the rifle. If Jeanette Fulbright was his aunt, this was Cassidy’s intended, and Edson could see that he was not afraid to use his weapon.
Trace’s eyes had gone back to watching Neal, but he hadn’t moved the gun. For that reason, Neal thought he could make it. He pushed Jeanette away from him, shoving the knife into her back at the same time, but also giving Trace a clear shot. Trace fired the gun. Neal and Jeanette went down at the same time. Cassidy dodged around Trace and ran for Jeanette. At the same moment Trace put a fist into Edson’s jaw, knocking him out cold.
“Jeanette!” Cassidy called her name, touching her as she knelt beside her and staring at her bloodless face. Jeanette didn’t answer. Folks began to arrive, Sheriff Kaderly and Chandler among the
m. Someone ran for the doctor, and for a moment there was general mayhem.
“Here, Cass.” Trace was beside her, trying to find a pulse in Jeanette’s neck. “She’s alive,” he said before removing the knife and pressing his handkerchief onto the wound.
The minutes that followed were a blur. Cassidy felt hands move her so Doc Ertz could come through. She was not even aware that Chandler had taken this on himself, not wanting her to notice Neal’s body, which lay unmoving past Jeanette’s.
When Jeanette was finally moved, the blood that had spread on the back of her dress was almost more than Cassidy could take, but she wanted to stay close to her. Chandler held her out of the fray, and when he saw that she was going to follow the wagon to Jeanette’s house without her coat, he again stepped in.
While Chandler was helping her with her coat and gloves, she caught herself and said something that astounded the banker. He didn’t think it a good idea but couldn’t bring himself to argue. He helped Cassidy down the street.
Trace’s mind was completely centered on his aunt and the fact that his hand was working to stop the flow of blood. He asked someone to go for Brad, and when he looked up and found Rylan nearby, he had all he could do not to weep.
“How bad is it?” Rylan asked right after the doctor had taken Trace’s place and Jeanette was transferred into the house.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Has someone gone for Brad and Meg?”
“I think so.”
“Where is Cassie?”
“I don’t know,” Trace said again, and Rylan just stayed close, no more questions coming from him.
Jeanette was settled in her own bed with as little fuss as those carrying her could make. Stopping the bleeding became the next order of business. Trace hated not being needed, but he stayed out of the way as much as possible and prayed, glad to catch sight of Rylan from time to time.
Almost an hour passed before he began to look for Cassidy. Trace assumed she was in the house, but she was not upstairs. Brad and Meg had already arrived, and when he checked, Heather and Becky had not seen her. Not until Trace had gone downstairs and was almost to the front door did he see Chandler. That man stopped him.
“I thought you would want to know that Cassie went to the sheriff’s office.”
“Did she say why?”
“No. Her brother was taken there, and she was going to go no matter what, so I made sure she made it. I also returned her money to the bank. She dropped it in the shop.”
“Thanks, Chandler,” Trace said, trying to gather his thoughts. “Rylan is somewhere here in the house. Will you let him know that I’ve gone to get Cassie?”
“Certainly.”
“Thanks,” Trace said, and started out the door. Chandler stopped him long enough to hand him a coat. Trace went out the door without another word.
Even with the blanket around her and her coat on, Cassidy shivered violently. Sheriff Kaderly watched her, wishing someone would come, not knowing what to say or do. She had been sitting outside her brother’s cell for nearly an hour. Edson Sinclair had not gained consciousness, but that hadn’t driven Cassidy away. When the door opened and Trace walked in, the lawman had all he could do not to sigh with relief.
“Cassie?” Trace said quietly, and that woman stood and walked into his arms.
“How is Jeanette?”
“They think they have the bleeding stopped.”
“You should be there,” Cassidy said.
“Yes, but I was worried about you.”
“I’m all right,” she said with more strength than she felt. “I have some things to say to Edson.”
“He’s not going anywhere,” Trace said, concerned about how violently she shivered. “We’ll ask Sheriff Kaderly, but I’m sure he’s going to hold him.”
“That’s right,” the sheriff said from behind them.
“I want you to come to the house with me.”
Cassidy began to shake her head, but Trace was having none of it.
“I want you to,” he said, not sure she was thinking clearly. “Your brother can wait.”
Cassidy was going to plead her case again, but Trace gave her no chance. He took the blanket from her shoulders and put it on the bench. Thanking the sheriff, he ushered her to the door.
“You’ll hold him, won’t you?” Cassidy got in before Trace could get her away.
“Yes, Miss Norton. He’ll be here.”
“I want to talk to him,” Cassidy said.
Trace didn’t trust the sound of her voice. He thought she would be sobbing any moment, which he knew might be for the best, but it didn’t happen. Her hand safely tucked into his, she allowed herself to be led down the street. Trace prayed for her and for himself. At the moment, it didn’t seem that life would ever be the same again.
“She’s asking for you” was the first thing Trace and Cassidy heard when they reached Jeanette’s. Trace helped Cassidy with her coat, even though she was still trembling, before leaving his own nearby and following Cassidy up the stairs. They entered Jeanette’s room, going slowly to the bed and saying her name.
“Jeanette?” Cassidy tried when Jeanette didn’t hear Trace. She finally opened her eyes a bit.
“Cassie?”
“Right here.”
“Trace?”
“I’m here,” the man said.
Jeanette sighed.
“Just rest,” Cassidy said.
Jeanette closed her eyes, and Cassidy turned away from the bed. Meg spoke to her in the hall, but she didn’t answer. Meg would have gone after her, but Trace was there. He followed her down the stairs and into the small parlor, where he’d asked for her hand in marriage. He then watched the way she crowded as close to the fire as she could get.
“Why did I go to the jail?” she suddenly asked, her face telling how stricken she felt.
“I don’t know,” Trace had to admit. “It must have made sense to you at the time.”
“Jeanette could have died, and I wouldn’t have been here. I’m sorry, Trace. I’m so sorry.”
Trace came close, and Cassidy clung to him, holding on for all she was worth. Trace didn’t know when he’d felt so tired and cold, but it was a relief to touch this precious woman. Still managing to keep Cassidy close, he pulled the sofa closer to the fire and got blankets for both of them. Wrapped up but still shivering, they sat close to each other and the fire and tried to make sense of what had happened.
“Rylan?” Jeanette asked the person by the bed. She thought it might be Brad.
“He’s here in the house somewhere. Do you want him?” Brad answered.
“Did he pray?” Jeanette asked.
“Yes. Just a little while ago. We weren’t sure you were awake.”
“Savanna?” Jeanette asked next.
“Meg is feeding her, and you need to stop taking care of everyone else.”
Jeanette managed a smile, and Brad felt tears rush to his eyes. There was so much he would say if his throat would just work.
“I’ll make it, honey,” she said to him, her hand rising to take his.
Brad did nothing to stem the tears that slipped down his cheeks. This was the only mother he’d known for nearly ten years. Not having her in his life was not something he’d ever considered. Brad asked God to give them more time for the simple reason that he knew his heart needed her.
“How are you?” Cassidy asked after a long stretch of quiet in the small parlor, finally warm, some of the shock receding.
“Awful,” Trace said. “My heart feels like lead in my chest.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassidy said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here with you.”
“It’s all right,” Trace said, his hand gently touching her face before taking her hand again. “You were upset too.”
Cassidy nodded, thankful for his understanding but wishing she’d been there.
“What do you want to say to Edson?”
Cassidy shook her head in wonder. ” ‘How much longer, Edson?
How many more people need to be hurt or die so you can have money you didn’t work for?' I want to hear from his lips why he thinks he has the right.”
“I don’t know if that’s the best thing to do,” Trace said. “But I don’t think I have the energy to discuss it right now.”
Cassidy nodded. She did want to discuss it, but it didn’t matter when. Earlier, when she was so hurt and angry about what had happened, it made complete sense. But now she realized that she didn’t have to have her say. She would ask Edson those questions if she had the chance, but if not, Edson still had to answer for his actions. He was grown up enough to ask those questions of himself and make changes if he so desired.
Cassidy was about to tell Trace what she’d decided when Rylan joined them.
“How are you?” he asked, taking a nearby chair.
“Just fair,” Trace said honestly. “A lot is still a blur.”
Rylan did not want to ask a lot of probing questions, even though many were on his mind. God had a plan for this day—Rylan was confident of that—but it didn’t change the fact that part of the plan was trauma and heartache for some of his flock.
The three were talking quietly, not dwelling on any one topic overly long, when Becky arrived with a tray of food.
“Now, Becky,” Rylan began. “You do not need to be waiting on us.”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I think I do.”
The three thanked her, not missing her red eyes or the slow, weary way she moved as she left them. No one would have said they were hungry, but the aromas coming from the assortment of dishes she had assembled smelled good. Rylan had a small plate of food and then went to find Brad and Meg. Rylan sat with Jeanette while the couple ate. Arrangements were made to have someone head to the ranch and see to the stock. The family had plans to stay very close to Jeanette.
“How long do I have to stay here?” Edson asked from his cell on Sunday morning. He well remembered the last time he’d been jailed and did not like it.