Читать книгу A Family for Christmas - Winnie Griggs - Страница 11

Chapter Three

The knots inside Eve tightened another turn. Surely he wouldn’t dismiss her if she had no official relationship with Leo. If he did, who would stand up for the boy and look out for his interests? Mr. Dawson had been kind in a neighborly sort of way, but she wasn’t at all certain she could count on him to go the extra mile for the boy.

She tilted her chin up a bit higher. “Not officially, but I consider myself his friend and temporary protector.”

To her relief, the lawman nodded. “I see.” He turned and picked up a piece of paper from his desk. “I received this telegram earlier today. Officials from Bent Oak sent similar ones to lawmen all along the train route asking us to be on the lookout for a boy named Leonard Haskins who stole a valuable pocket watch. There were indications he might have slipped on board the train at Texarkana.”

He eyed Leo. “The boy’s description is a pretty good match for your young friend here.”

Just what kind of trouble was Leo in? “That doesn’t mean Leo is the boy in question, or that the charges are true. He needs to have an opportunity to speak for himself.”

The sheriff folded his arms with a nod. “I’m listening.”

Eve turned to Leo, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to tell us your side of the story.” She put as much support and encouragement in her expression as she could, but Leo looked more angry and desperate than reassured.

She tried again, this time adding firmness to her tone. “It’s always best to tell the truth. I promise I’m going to help you no matter what. But you need to do your part, as well.”

“I am Leonard Haskins,” he finally said.

“And the watch?” the sheriff pressed.

Leo reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out an ornate gold watch. He stared at the timepiece for a long moment, then held it out to the sheriff without a word.

The lawman took it and set it down on his desk.

Eve tried to maintain her composure. She was determined to stand by Leo, but would she be allowed to? Almost involuntarily, she glanced Mr. Dawson’s way and found her spirits buoyed by the encouraging look he gave her.

As if he’d been waiting on a cue from her, Mr. Dawson turned to Sheriff Gleason. “What happens now?”

“I’ll contact the sheriff responsible for Bent Oak and let him know we’ve recovered the watch and have the boy in custody. I imagine both Leo and the watch will be sent back to Bent Oak and—”

“No!” The exclamation exploded out of Leo as if from a gun. He would have darted out the door if Mr. Dawson hadn’t grabbed him.

“Whoa now.” Mr. Dawson stood solidly in place as Leo struggled frantically to get free.

It was all Eve could do not to rush over and try to still his struggles with an embrace.

When Leo finally gave up, he glared defiantly at the sheriff. “Lock me up for what I done if you have to, but don’t send me back there. I won’t go back to Mr. Belcher, I just won’t.” He was shaking with the intensity of his feelings.

“Leo, who is Mr. Belcher?”

Leo looked Eve’s way but for a moment he didn’t seem to really see her. After a heartbeat, though, his tension eased and his gaze met hers. “He’s the neighbor who took me in when my folks died. Only he wasn’t doing it ’cause he was feeling particularly kindly toward me.” The bitter edge to his voice was jarring coming from one so young. “After the funeral he told me my pa owed him a lot of money and since he couldn’t collect from him anymore, he aimed to see that I worked it off.”

Eve’s stomach clinched as she studied the boy’s raggedy appearance and bony frame in light of what he’d just said. She resisted the urge to reach out to him, knowing instinctively he’d shy away from physical contact just now. “Leo, did he treat you badly?” she asked gently.

The boy shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “I found out he was a mean old coot, especially when he was drunk.” He lifted his chin. “But I never let him see me cry.”

Everything inside her cried out at that telling statement. Who would treat a child like this? She saw Mr. Dawson’s jaw tighten, indicating he shared her outrage.

But Leo hadn’t finished saying his piece. “I finally figured two years of my working sunup to sundown should have paid off any debt my pa owed him, if he actually owed him anything in the first place. So a few nights ago I just up and left while he was still sleeping.” He gave them all a tight-jawed look. “And I don’t aim to go back, no matter what.”

“And the watch?” the sheriff asked.

Leo drew himself up. “I ain’t no thief. I took it because it was rightfully mine.”

“Yours?” The sheriff retrieved the timepiece and examined it. “This is a mighty expensive-looking item for a kid to own.”

“It was my pa’s. His great-granddad brought it over from England before he sailed here. He saved the life of some kind of nobleman and the man gave him that watch out of gratitude. My pa told me the story lots of times. He also said it would be mine someday.” His face twisted into a dark glower. “But then Mr. Belcher took it from me—said it would serve as pay for my upkeep.”

“That’s a fine story, son, and I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but can you prove it?” The lawman’s tone was firm without being confrontational.

“Look inside,” Leo answered. “Mr. Belcher tried to scratch them out, but there’s the initials CLH and the year 1807 in there. That’s my pa’s great-granddad Charles Lewis Haskins and the year he received the watch.” Then Leo shrugged. “If you still don’t believe me there’s likely someone back in Bent Oak who still remembers my pa carrying it when he went to church on Sunday.”

Satisfied, Eve turned to the sheriff. “You can’t arrest this boy for taking back what belongs to him. Especially after all he’s been through.”

The lawman raised a brow. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“I ain’t no liar.” Leo’s tone reflected his indignation.

Mr. Dawson stepped in again. “Look, Ward, you must have some way of checking out his story. Until you do, we don’t need to be in a hurry to send him back, do we?”

The sheriff rubbed his jaw. “I suppose I could make some inquiries. But until I hear back, I can’t just let the kid run loose. I mean, there’s no one to keep an eye on him while we wait.”

“I’m old enough to take care of myself.” The boy drew his shoulders back and stood up straighter. “I been doing it the past two years anyway.”

Sheriff Gleason shook his head. “Even so, I can’t just let you out on your own until we get this matter straightened out.”

Eve laid a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I’ll take responsibility for him.”

The lawman gave her a look that was both sympathetic and uncompromising. “No offense, Miss Pickering, but I don’t know you. I don’t know what kind of caretaker you’d make for a boy who might just get it in his head to run off again.”

Eve turned to Leo. “Will you give me your solemn word that you won’t run away again as long as you are in my care?”

The boy stared at her for several moments and she could see the internal struggle in his face. Finally he nodded. “Yes, ma’am, so long as I’m in your care, I won’t run away.” He glanced back at the sheriff. “But I ain’t going back to Mr. Belcher’s.”

She turned back to the sheriff with satisfaction. “There. Leo won’t be any trouble for me to take care of while you work on getting this whole disagreeable situation put to rights.”

Sheriff Gleason, however, didn’t appear to be convinced. “Miss Pickering, until we get to the bottom of this, we don’t really know how good his word is, do we?”

She could understand the sheriff’s attitude. After all, it was his job to be suspicious and cautious. But deep in her heart she believed every bit of Leo’s story and she couldn’t bear the thought of him having to spend time locked up in jail, especially given what he’d already been through.

How could she convince the man to see things as she did? Dear Jesus, please help me find a way.

Aware the sheriff was waiting for her to speak, Eve took a deep breath, still not certain what she would say. But she knew she had to—

“How about I help Miss Pickering keep an eye on the boy?”

Eve turned and stared at Mr. Dawson. Had he just volunteered to help her save Leo? Maybe she had misjudged him after all.

* * *

Chance was as surprised by his offer as the rest of the people in the room seemed to be. He’d uttered the words without thought, spurred entirely by the urge to wipe the worry lines from Miss Pickering’s face.

He was always a pushover for a damsel in distress. This wasn’t the first time that weakness had gotten him in trouble.

But now that he’d blurted out his rash offer, he couldn’t very well take it back.

The distressed damsel and Sheriff Gleason spoke up at almost the same time.

“Mr. Dawson, that’s very kind, but I assure you—”

“Are you offering to take responsibility for seeing the boy doesn’t run off?”

Chance decided to ignore Miss Pickering’s protest and respond to the sheriff’s question instead. “Miss Pickering seems to think the boy’s word can be trusted and I’m willing to bank on that.” He gave Leo a pointed look. “At least until Leo gives me reason to think otherwise.”

The sheriff eyed him doubtfully. “That’s all well and good, but how do you plan to keep a close eye on him?”

That was a good question. But an idea was starting to form in the back of his mind. It was a bit unorthodox, but if he could pull it off, it would make him appear a hero with minimal effort on his part. And it might have the bonus of making for an interesting few days.

“I have an idea that might simplify matters for everyone. But I need to check on something before I explain.” He turned to Miss Pickering. “Can you wait about thirty minutes before we eat?”

“Of course. But what—”

He didn’t give her an opportunity to finish her question. “I’ll explain when I return.” He turned to the sheriff. “If it isn’t an inconvenience, perhaps our visitors could wait here in your office? I won’t be long.”

Sheriff Gleason took his cue and gave Miss Pickering a short bow. “Of course. You and Leo are welcome to make yourselves at home.”

But Miss Pickering was not to be denied her opportunity to protest. She had resumed her prim schoolmarm look and raised a hand. “Gentlemen, while I appreciate your attempt to assist Leo and me in this matter, don’t you think I should have some say in whatever it is you’re planning?”

Sheriff Gleason gave her a stern look. “Frankly, Miss Pickering, unless Chance here has a real good solution in mind, I don’t see how I can keep from locking the boy up, at least for as long as it takes me to get to the bottom of this matter.”

Chance tried one of his more persuasive smiles on her. “What do you say? Can you trust me to find a solution that’ll make everyone happy? Or at least reserve judgment until you hear what I have in mind?”

She didn’t seem particularly won over, but gave a slow nod. “I suppose that’s a fair request.”

So much for charming her. “Good girl.”

He saw the startled look at his familiar address, but she didn’t chide him again. Instead she turned to the sheriff. “Perhaps we can make good use of the time we’ll spend waiting for Mr. Dawson to carry out his mysterious errand. We can get started on whatever inquiries need to be made to clear up this matter with Leo.” She clasped her hands together. “After all, the sooner started, the sooner finished.”

“Good idea.” Sheriff Gleason moved around to the other side of his desk. “I’ll draft a telegram and send it off today.”

“Speaking of telegrams,” Chance said to Eve, “isn’t there someone in Tyler you need to notify about your postponed arrival?” He found it interesting that she seemed to have given so little thought to this sudden change in her own plans.

Miss Pickering’s eyes widened and she placed a hand to her cheek. “Oh, my goodness. How could I have forgotten about Mrs. O’Connell? I imagine she’ll be worried when I don’t get off the train. I must send her a telegram immediately.”

At least that had gotten her mind off quizzing him. “Well then, it looks like you folks won’t have much time to miss me. I’ll meet you back here in about a half hour.”

Chance smiled as he exited the sheriff’s office, headed for the boardinghouse. He’d succeeded in getting Miss Pickering to trust him, at least for the time being, and also in finding something to focus her attention on while he was gone. There was some hope that he could make a dent in her reserve yet. He grinned, relishing the thought of how much fun it would be to do that.

He’d have to get Dotty on board for his plan to work, but he didn’t foresee any problem with that. Knowing she would be key to helping Turnabout’s newest visitors be more comfortable would be all the incentive she needed.

Then his smile faded. Before talking to Dotty, there was one more thing he needed to do.

He’d put it off long enough. It was time to read the letter.

Chance turned his steps toward his own place. As soon as he was inside, he tore the envelope open. Taking a deep breath, he focused all his concentration on deciphering the words on the paper in his hands. Some days he had more success than others.

Today was not one of those days.

He tried again, straining his eyes until they ached with the effort. But it was no use. His brain refused to translate the markings on the paper into anything that made sense.

Frustrated and shamed once again by his inability to do what most schoolchildren did with little effort, Chance refolded the letter and shoved it back into his pocket. Sharing the news in this letter—whatever it was—wasn’t something he relished doing, but it seemed he had no choice.

Time to visit Dotty.

Ten minutes later he entered the parlor of the boardinghouse, where Dotty sat knitting.

“What, no bridge game?” he teased. “Did you just use that as an excuse not to have lunch with us?”

She set aside her needlework. “Not at all. Unfortunately Stanley wasn’t feeling well so we didn’t have enough folks to play.” Then she leaned back, a puzzled expression on her face. “Surely you and our stranded visitors haven’t had enough time to eat already?”

He took a seat across from her. “There’s been a slight change of plans. But I’ve come to ask you a favor.”

“Of course. The letter?”

Dotty knew of his affliction and had told him it was one her brother had shared. He’d hired her to take care of his account books, and she came over to his place twice a week, coincidentally on the days the newspaper was delivered. She not only handled his accounts, but she also took care of any paperwork he needed assistance with and read the newspaper to him.

Her matter-of-fact handling of the situation was a great balm to his wobbly self-esteem.

Now he pulled the letter from his pocket but didn’t hand it over immediately. “There’s that, of course. But there’s something else.”

“You’ve piqued my curiosity. But why don’t we get the letter out of the way first?”

Chance nodded as he handed it over. “It’s from my father.”

She tilted her head, giving him a considering look. “You don’t sound happy at the prospect of hearing from him.”

He grimaced. “My father is not one to write unless there is something he wants.”

Without further comment, she opened the letter and began reading.

Chauncey,

Dotty eyed him in amused surprise.

He shrugged, trying to hide his irritation. “It’s my given name. I’m not overly fond of it, but Father insists on using it.”

“I see.” She turned back to the letter.

When you left Philadelphia and headed for that backwater town in Texas, I told you that you would be welcome to return home when and if you gained some maturity and restraint, and were ready to accept both the responsibilities and privileges that come with being a member of this family. Since you have not yet taken advantage of this invitation in the year and a half that has passed since that day, it leaves me to wonder if you have learned anything at all from the experience.

Dotty was doing a good job of keeping her voice and expression neutral but she had to be wondering about the letter’s tone. That was his father, though, ready to get right to the heart of the matter without wasting time worrying about trivial matters such as how one was getting on.

Dotty continued:

Therefore I have decided that I will come to visit you to see what kind of life you’ve managed to build for yourself. And while I’m there, we can use some of that time to discuss your future.

I imagine you are thinking that there is nothing for us to discuss, but in that you would be mistaken. As it happens, it recently came to my attention that you have mortgaged your place to invest in a new venture. It may interest you to know that I now own that note, so yes, I do have some stake in your future.

You can expect me to arrive by mid-December and I will plan to spend Christmas with you before returning to Philadelphia.

Dotty looked back up as she refolded the letter. “And he signs it Your father, Woodrow Dawson.”

Everything inside Chance had tensed as Dotty read his father’s words, drawing tighter and tighter, like a clockwork spring that would soon explode out of its case.

A moment later he took a deep breath and forced his fists to unclench. It wouldn’t do to let Dotty see just how strongly the letter had affected him.

“I thank you for taking the time to read that for me.”

She handed him the letter. “It sounds like you will have family with you for Christmas this year.”

That was Dotty, always looking for the silver lining. He attempted a grin. “As you can no doubt tell, my father and I did not part on the best of terms.”

“Perhaps his upcoming visit will be an opportunity for the two of you to remedy that.”

Not a chance. But he merely smiled and changed the subject. “Now, if I can impose on you to discuss the other favor I came here to ask.”

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, Chance was out the door and headed back to the sheriff’s office. Dotty had, of course, readily agreed to his scheme. But his pleasure in that was marred by the knowledge of his father’s upcoming visit and what had prompted it.

When he left Philadelphia, he’d thought he was out from under his father’s thumb for good. He should have known the despot wouldn’t let it go. That thinly veiled threat in the letter was typical of the way his father handled disagreements.

And now the man held the note to his business. What a wretched situation. If he’d known this would be the outcome he’d never have risked borrowing the money in the first place. His excitement over the work he was doing to improve the stationary engine was quickly turning to ashes. But most of the money had been spent now and there was no going back.

Having his autocratic father arrive on his doorstep in a matter of weeks spelled nothing but trouble. For the man to decide to dedicate so much of his valuable time to the planned visit was certainly out of character. Which also signaled that something important was afoot.

No matter what leverage his father thought he held over him, if he expected Chance to be any more willing to bow to his strictures now than he had in the past, he would be in for a major disappointment.

Which was how their interactions usually left his father.

How in the world had the man managed to insinuate himself into his black-sheep-of-a-son’s life again? How had he even learned about the loan?

Chance intended to get answers to those questions before he faced his father again.

And this time there would be one key difference in their confrontation. His father would be coming to him, a guest in his town, in his home—not the other way around.

And that was a strategic advantage Chance planned to make the most of.