Читать книгу The Rightful Heir - Angel Moore - Страница 11
ОглавлениеMary Lou let out a yelp when Jared reached from under the desk and caught her by the arm.
“You can’t go out there! It’s not safe!”
She jerked her elbow from his grasp. “It’s my job.” She left him, mouth agape, and went to the front window. She could see several people spilling out of the swinging doors at Winston’s Grand Saloon on the opposite side of Pine Street. Someone she didn’t recognize ran up the sidewalk in her direction. He had a pistol in one hand and a man lay prone in the street behind him.
“Lord, help me.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud as she pulled the door open and stepped into the path of the fleeing gunman. The man tried to avoid her and ran headlong into a post on her porch. As he tripped and landed on his back, the gun he held flew across the ground and skidded into the middle of the dirt street.
“What are you doing?” Jared came out of the newspaper office behind her. “You could be hurt.”
Mary Lou skipped down the steps and kicked the gun away as the gunman rolled over to get up.
She barked at Jared. “If you don’t stay out of my way, you could get me killed.” She turned to see Sheriff Collins emerge from the crowd around the victim. “Glad you could join us, Sheriff.”
The man in the street made a last effort to get away, but the sheriff grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. “Whoa, there. Ain’t no need in making me have to work harder. It’ll just make me less pleasant when you’re sitting in my jail.”
Mary Lou held her pencil at the ready. “What’s your name? Do you know the man you shot?”
The man protested. “Let me go. I didn’t do anything.”
The sheriff grunted. “That’s what everyone who ends up in my jail says.”
Mary Lou took a step closer. “Why did you shoot him?”
The man twisted against the sheriff’s hold but was no match for the lawman’s strength. “I didn’t!” There was something in the tone of his declaration that made her think he could be telling the truth.
“Then why run away?”
“I didn’t want to get shot.”
Sheriff Collins held up one hand. “Let me get him to the jail, Mary Lou. I’ll even give you first crack at talking to him, seeing how you helped me out when you kicked away his gun.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.” She hurried in the direction of the crowd in front of the saloon. “I’ll be by as soon as I’ve talked to the witnesses.”
The sheriff’s voice bellowed behind her. “Let me do my job, Mary Lou.”
She ignored him. If she waited for him to get back from putting the shooter in jail, most of the crowd would have dispersed.
She stopped short. The man on his way to jail might not be the shooter. She’d assumed so because he’d run away from the scene so quickly. What if he was another intended victim? Mr. Ivy would scold her for such assumptions. He’d say it was a poor journalist who lost their objectivity.
She approached the owner of the general store. “Mr. Croft, did you see what happened?”
“No, ma’am.” The older man brushed his sleeves to remove the dust of the street. “I was just heading back to the store after getting my hair cut. Next thing I know, I’m lying in the street next to some fella who just got shot.” He frowned and looked at her. “It’s a sad day when a man can’t walk through the middle of town without such an incident.”
Mary Lou agreed with Mr. Croft, but she didn’t have time for his commiserations today. “Thank you, Mr. Croft.”
She pushed her way between the gawkers and tried to get a good look at the victim. He was a stranger. Most of the people who got into trouble at the saloon weren’t from around Pine Haven. They were usually passengers from the train stopping over for business or cowboys on their way farther west who stopped into town for a rest from their travels.
Doc Willis pushed through the other side of the gathering. “Back up, folks. Let me see if I can help the man.”
People pushed back just enough to let the doctor inside the tight circle of the curious. The man groaned and became combative when the doctor touched the bleeding wound on his leg.
A deep, rich voice spoke from beside her. “You’ll only make it worse if you don’t hold still.” Jared leaned in close, causing her to shift and regain her footing. Mary Lou bristled at his intrusion.
The victim grunted and the doctor pushed the man’s shoulder back against the dirt. “He’s right. All that straining isn’t doing you a bit of good.” The doctor reached into his bag and pulled out a strip of white bandaging cloth.
Mary Lou wouldn’t be pushed aside by Jared Ivy. As far as she was concerned, he was a newcomer who threatened her paper. “How bad is it, Doc?”
“He’ll live, but he’s gonna have a whopper of a limp for a while.”
Jared’s next words surprised her. “Did anyone see who shot him?”
Mary Lou jerked her head around to face him. “I was just about to ask that.” Jared’s eyes seemed to laugh at her when two men spoke up.
“I saw the whole thing.” This man was another stranger. His words were slurred with liquor. From experience, Mary Lou knew nothing he said would prove helpful.
Winston Ledford, the owner of the saloon, spoke next. “Who’s asking?” Mr. Ledford was known for being a shrewd businessman. Most of the town hadn’t wanted a saloon, but he’d built it anyway. And the success of his business was a trial to them all. The violence of fist fights and the occasional shootings were punctuation to the endless raucous laughter and noise that never ceased to escape the doors of his establishment.
“Jared Ivy. I’m the owner of the Pine Haven Record.”
Silence fell across the scene. Doc Willis looked up from tending his patient. “Mary Lou is the owner of the Record.”
Mary Lou broke into the conversation. “Did you see what happened, Mr. Ledford?”
He shook his head. “I was in my office when I heard the commotion. It appears to me that this man was shot in the street, not in my establishment.” He nodded to Mary Lou. “I see no reason for my presence here.” He turned and walked away. The doors of the saloon swooshed behind him as he disappeared into the dark interior.
She decided to go straight to the heart of the matter. Leaning in as the doctor sat the shooting victim up, she asked, “Sir, do you know the man who shot you?”
“I do.” His words were weak and he slumped against the doctor.
Jared interrupted again. “Who was it?”
The victim laughed. “I shot myself. My pa warned me that gun had a hair trigger. Went off in my lap when I reached to pull my winnings from the middle of the table.” He suddenly looked around the circle of bystanders, very concerned. “Hey! Who got my money?”
Mary Lou sighed and backed away from the group. She knew without looking behind her that the crowd was dispersing. One man’s careless actions had caused quite a stir. The gamblers who took his money had probably tossed him into the street. End of story.
Jared caught up to her as she stepped onto the porch in front of the paper. “Are you just walking away without finding out what happened?”
She stopped and turned on her heel. “There is no story. It was an accident.”
Jared spread his arms wide, palms up. “No story? What about the man sitting in the jail this minute? He probably has a story to tell.”
“He was a victim of the commotion. The sheriff will release him as soon as he knows the victim shot himself. The man said he didn’t do it before he was taken to jail.”
“I’m not so sure.” His eyes narrowed. “Not so sure at all.” He lifted a hand in parting. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She went into the paper and dropped her notebook on the desk. Picking up the composing stick and beginning to reassemble the work she’d dropped onto the floor earlier, she wasn’t surprised when Jared didn’t follow her inside. He may be off on a fool’s errand, but she had a paper to print.
* * *
Jared turned the corner on Main Street and headed for the sheriff’s office. Why would a man run away from a shooting with his gun drawn if he didn’t have anything to do with it? Something didn’t sit right in Jared’s craw about this presumed-innocent stranger.
He opened the door of the sheriff’s office and stepped inside.
“What is it now, Ivy? Can’t you see I’m a busy man?” Sheriff Collins pulled the large key from the lock on the cell door at the back of his office. He hung the ring on a nail on the wall behind his desk. The man he’d hauled away from the scene minutes earlier declared his innocence from behind the bars.
“Hush up!” the sheriff warned the alleged criminal in the cell. He put the man’s gun in the top drawer of his desk, locked it, dropped that key into the pocket of his leather vest and patted it. “You’ve caused enough trouble here today. Sit down and be quiet.”
Jared watched the man who had appeared guilty after his attempt to leave the scene. What had really happened in the saloon? “Sheriff, the fellow with the bullet in his leg says he shot himself.”
The prisoner rattled the door of the cell. “I told you I didn’t shoot him!”
Sheriff Collins pinned the man with a stare. “I won’t tell you again to be quiet.” He asked Jared, “How did he say it happened?”
“Said his gun had a hair trigger and went off when he reached to pull the pot he’d won from the middle of the table. His only complaint is not knowing where his money went.”
The sheriff looked from Jared to the occupant of the cell. “How much money you got on you?”
“What?” The man was outraged. “First I’m a gunman, now I’m a thief?”
Jared studied the man. He didn’t yet know what to think about the events of the last hour. “Why did you run?”
The man almost snorted at him. “Ever been in a saloon when gunfire erupts? Everybody runs.”
The sheriff pulled his lips in under the heavy mustache he wore and leaned his head to one side before shaking it. “No. Everybody doesn’t.”
Jared noticed the clothes the man wore. He looked familiar. “Who are you?”
“I’ll ask the questions, Mr. Ivy.” The sheriff didn’t seem pleased to have someone horn in on his territory, but Jared’s innate curiosity had his mind full of questions.
The prisoner pointed through the bars at Jared. “He just told you that man shot himself. You got no reason to hold me here.”
“I’ll be the one decidin’ if there’s a reason to hold you.” The sheriff leaned against the side of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “I’d like to know the same thing Mr. Ivy is asking. Who are you?”
“Name’s Elmer Finch. I’m a newsagent on the train.”
“That’s where I saw you.” Jared knew he’d seen that face recently.
“Well, I’ll just go around to the depot and speak to the station master then.” The sheriff straightened and headed for the door.
Elmer Finch spoke up. “The station master probably won’t know me. Today is my first day with the line. You’ll have to speak to someone on the train. I’d appreciate it if you’re quick about it. The train had a long stop so some repairs could be made. I’ve only got a half hour before I’m supposed to be back on the job.”
Sheriff Collins banged the door behind him as he left.
Jared walked to the cell. “What were you doing in the saloon?”
Mr. Finch didn’t meet his eye. A sure sign to Jared that he wasn’t being honest. “I was having supper.”
“Hmm...” It wouldn’t be productive to question someone who was lying. He decided to follow the sheriff and see what they could learn at the depot.
“You can mutter all you want. I’m telling you the truth.” Elmer Finch’s words rang out behind him as Jared closed the door to the sheriff’s office.
Something wasn’t right and Jared was determined to find out what it was.
After a trip to the depot and the doctor’s office, Jared headed back to the paper. It might be his first day in town, but he was already stirring with anticipation about putting his first story in the paper. He opened the door and stopped short as a young man hung a copy of the paper to dry. Mary Lou loaded the next sheet of paper for printing. Several copies hung along the outer edge of the office.
“Why did you start printing the paper before I got back?”
“We always print on Saturday when we can. I don’t like to work on the Lord’s Day or wait until Monday morning. It gives overnight for the papers to dry, and you never know when you might have a problem with the press. It’s best to get it printed as soon as the stories are complete.” She nodded to the young man. “Andrew Nobleson, this is Jared Ivy. He claims he owns the paper, and Sheriff Collins says I’ve got to put up with him until the judge comes through town again. Maybe a month or two.”
“How do you do, sir?” Andrew offered his hand and pulled it back at the last second when he realized how much ink was on it.
“Hello, Andrew.”
“Andrew is my apprentice. He helps with many of the odd jobs involved in putting out the paper.”
Jared looked at Mary Lou, carefully inking the press for another copy. “I told you I thought there was more to the story.”
She didn’t even look up; just put the ink roller down while Andrew loaded the next sheet of paper. He cranked it under the press and pulled the lever to print the page.
“Was there?” She looked doubtful as she helped Andrew remove the paper and grabbed the ink roller again.
“I’m not exactly sure.” He leaned against the desk. “Something about the man doesn’t fit.”
Mary Lou continued to work with Andrew. Jared watched them move with motions seemingly synchronized by the experience of having worked together for a long time.
“Then I’m glad I didn’t hold the press for you. I won’t print something that’s vague or unfounded.”
“It’s not unfounded. And I’ve got equal say about what gets printed.”
“Equal say? That’s not how I heard the sheriff.” She argued without missing a lick at the work she and Andrew did.
“He said we have to work together.”
“That’s fine. You can start where everyone else who ever worked here started. You can sweep up, and I’ll teach you how to clean the press when we’re finished printing. Next week you should be able to clean it on your own.”
“What?” How dare she speak to him like a subordinate? “I’m not a hired hand or apprentice. I’m the owner. And I won’t be ordered about by you or anyone else.” She had nerve. That much was clear. He’d have to hold a tight line with her or she’d find a way to send him packing before the judge ever came to town.
“I’m just telling you what Jacob Ivy would have told you.” She motioned for Andrew to move a stack of blank paper closer. “No one puts a word in a story of the Pine Haven Record until they’ve proved themselves. I’m quite certain he’d have made no exception for you.”
The thought of Grump making her sweep the floors and clean the press made him smile. “Is that how you started?”
“It is.” She lowered the paper into place and Andrew cranked to move it under the press.
The teenager nodded. “Me, too. I’ve only been allowed to work on the press since about a year ago when Mr. Ivy started slowing down and passing the work load to Miss Ellison.”
Jared wasn’t surprised at Grump’s methods. It made sense. “How long have you worked here, Andrew?”
“Two years, sir.” He pulled the lever and the press lowered again. The two of them were efficient.
“Andrew’s very smart, though. Don’t expect to move up as quickly as he did.” Mary Lou let a tiny grin show at her words.
“I’ll try to keep up.” Jared laughed. So she was sarcastic, too. He appreciated her refusal to back down from controversy. Under different circumstances—like him not being the cause of the controversy—Jared might be attracted to a woman like Mary Lou Ellison.
She pushed the thought out of his mind with a smirk. “See that you do.”
He sobered and stood his ground on the matter. “I want to learn every aspect of the business. But I won’t be pushed to the side like I’m not the owner.”
Mary Lou stopped her work. “What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Consider what I’ve learned about Elmer Finch.” He pushed off his resting place against the desk and paced the front of the office.
“Who is Elmer Finch?” She drummed her fingers on the edge of the press as if she itched to get back to work.
“He’s the man the sheriff arrested. The newsagent for the railroad. But why was he running away when you opened the door?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps to avoid being caught up in the gunfire?”
“But his gun was drawn. Most people run without stopping to draw their weapon. And if he was going to return fire, wouldn’t he have taken cover inside the saloon?”
“Wait.” She creased her brow. “He said he’s the newsagent? I’ve never seen him before. The newsagent is an older man, slight-framed, with a mustache.”
Jared shook his head. “He said it’s his first day with the railroad.”
The whistle sounded, signaling the departure of the train. “He convinced the sheriff to release him, so he wouldn’t miss the train.”
“Hmm...” She tapped her finger on the top of her lip just below her nose. Her mouth was a straight line as she thought. “If he’s the newsagent, he’ll be back. The same man has ridden this route since the train came to Pine Haven last year. I have no objection if you feel pressed to pursue an answer to your questions.” She inked the plate again and set the roller aside. “But I won’t be willing to print anything that isn’t verified.”
He reached for a newspaper and pulled it from where it hung to dry. The headline jumped off the page: Jacob Ivy’s Grandson Seeks Ownership of Record. He lowered the paper and looked at her. “I see you added the latest news. Dare I read the content of the article? Am I a villain in your story?”
“I hold myself to the same high standards I told you about. There is nothing in the story of bias or opinion. Merely a statement of facts.”
He moved behind the desk and gestured at the chair. “May I?”
“I’m not sure I have a choice in the matter.” She turned back to the press.
The article was just as she’d said. Clear. Concise. Without bias or conjecture.
It was a surprise after the way she’d resisted his arrival and insisted the paper was solely hers. He hoped she’d maintain that approach after the judge declared him to be the rightful owner.
He looked over the top of the paper at her. “You left out the part about me coming here after being a ranch hand for several years.”
She kept working without looking at him. “Humph. If you had come back to the office, instead of traipsing all over town, I’d have had time for a proper interview. I was only able to include the limited knowledge I have of you.”
He raised the paper to finish reading. She wasn’t one to be backed down. He could see that.
Watching her work today, and reading her story, gave him insight into why Grump had taken her on. Would it be lunacy to ask her to stay on once the paper was his? That depended on whether or not she’d only befriended his grandfather for the inheritance.
He hated to be so suspicious, but the lies his mother had told him all his life had left him skittish. Even when Momma hadn’t lied, she’d avoided the truth. And he hadn’t seen that truth until she’d confessed it all on her deathbed. He couldn’t settle what he’d learned against the long-held belief that she was an upright Christian. How could he have been so wrong about someone so close to him? He didn’t know if he’d ever trust his instincts again.
Suspicion was one trait he hoped would work to his advantage in the newspaper business.
* * *
Mary Lou studied Jared as he read the article. She didn’t let him see her, but she watched every expression and waited for a response. As hard as it had been to write, she felt the town deserved to know the truth. After the way he’d announced it in the middle of town a few hours earlier, she hadn’t seen another option. Best to get it out in the open to keep the gossipers at bay. The last thing she wanted was a man muddying up her life. Men had a way of intruding on her dreams and leaving her to pick up the pieces after they left.
Jared hadn’t said a word after he’d read the entire paper. Andrew hung the last one to dry and reached for a rag to start the cleaning process. Mary Lou shook her head. “I’ve got it tonight. You go on home.”
“Are you sure, Miss Ellison? I don’t mind staying. I need to work all I can. Feed and board for Midnight is costing me a pretty penny.” He looked eager to stay, but she didn’t know how Jared’s arrival would affect the finances of the paper. Best be conservative until they had a chance to talk it out.
“I think Mr. Warren may be looking to take on some more help at the hotel. Why don’t you stop by there on your way home?”
Andrew’s face lit up. “Thanks, Miss Ellison! I’ll go right away.” He snatched his hat from the coat tree by the door and was gone.
The banging of the door brought Jared from his reverie.
Mary Lou tossed him a rag. “Are you ready to learn to clean the press?”
He shook his head as if she’d dragged him back from far away. “Sure.” He hung his coat on the rack by the door and pushed up his sleeves. “Do you have extra sleeve garters?”
She pointed to a shelf. “You can wear Andrew’s.”
They set to work amiably enough. She’d been prepared for him to argue at every point and was surprised when he didn’t. He caught on to things quickly and didn’t shy away from the dirty tasks. She was pleased by how soon they finished.
“Well, Mr. Ivy, I must say I’m impressed. I’d have figured you to quit before we were half done.”
He pulled his coat on. “That’s not very fair of you, Miss Ellison. You don’t know me.”
She nodded. “I guess you’re right. The things your grandfather told me are from long ago. Change was inevitable.”
He agreed. “We’re all a result of many things. Who we are born to, but also the influences in our lives as we grow. I trust you’ll learn to approve of me. Even if you never like me.”
Mary Lou gasped. “Mr. Ivy, I never said I didn’t like you.”
“It was in your eyes, ma’am. A woman has a hard time hiding dislike.”
“You don’t seem to have taken a shine to me, either.”
“Let’s just say that for the time being we’re at the same place, but on different sides of the situation.”
“On that, we can agree.”
He took his hat from the coat tree. “As to being in the same place, I already paid for the room at the hotel for the night. I’ll move my things in tomorrow after services. If you’d be so kind as to show me where the rooms are.”
Mary Lou looked out the front window. The sun had set. If they stayed any later, she’d have to light the lamps. “It’s getting very late. I can show you after lunch tomorrow.”
He nodded as a grin crossed his face. “Don’t want the town to see me here after dark?”
“My reputation in this town was earned over years of guarding it. I’m not interested in marring it for your convenience when tomorrow will suit.”
“I see.” He put his hat on and opened the door.
She followed him onto the front porch. “Please don’t think me rude. I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about our relationship.”
“You’ve no cause for concern. I assure you, the only thing we will ever have in common is the paper. And I expect that to end as soon as the judge arrives.” He tipped his hat. “Good evening.” He stepped onto the street and turned toward the center of town.
“Ahhh. Another point of agreement. I expect the judge to send you on your merry way.”
She heard his chuckle as he walked into the twilight.
Mary Lou went inside and closed the door. She lowered the shades and headed through to the back door. She was bone-weary. How had the beautiful day that promised a lovely story about the harvest celebration turned into a nightmare that might cost her everything?
Prayer and a restless night awaited her at home. It was a task she’d take on with zeal. Surely, God would not take away the life He’d only given her weeks ago.
