Deep in the Heart of Trouble (25 page)

Tony extended his hand. “I was sorry to hear about Rebecca.”

Finch clasped his hand. “Thank you. I still can’t quite believe she’s gone.”

“I confess to feeling the same way.”

Finch pulled out a quizzing glass and peered at Tony more closely. “I see you finally stripped yourself of that ghastly moustache. When did you do that?”

“He did it the same day he was stripped of his inheritance,” Darius answered. “Both lightened his load a bit, didn’t they, Dogbone?”

Essie gasped and an awkward silence followed.

Tony rubbed the skin above his lips. “Funny how something that was such a part of me is so easily discarded. I find I hardly even notice its absence anymore.”

Chuckling, Finch reached into his jacket and withdrew a silver cigarette case. Flipping it open, he offered mechanically rolled cigarettes to the men. Darius and Mudge each withdrew one from the holder, but the others declined.

“Well, if you gentlemen would excuse me?” Essie was wearing her blue gown, the one that had a really wide sash that hugged her waist and emphasized her curves. He’d first seen it the night she lectured her club on bicycle etiquette. It was one of his favorites.

Pink filled her cheeks at his obvious admiration before she excused herself again and turned away.

Finch struck a match against the wall, held the flame for Darius and Mudge, then himself.

“I’m afraid I haven’t quite decided what to think about those pre-rolled cigarettes,” the mayor said. “Do you really think the taste is worth the extra expense?”

“I find them far superior to the handmade ones,” Finch answered.

“What about you, Darius?”

“Oh, I’ll not turn them down when offered, but in truth, a smoke’s a smoke. They’re all pretty much the same to me. Kinda like women. Right, Tony? It appears women are all pretty much the same to you, too, no matter how old they are.”

Spreckelmeyer pulled his hands out of his pockets. The sheriff slowly straightened.

Darius had been trying to rile Tony since he’d arrived. Tony wasn’t sure of his brother’s game, but until he figured it out, he would hold on to his temper. Still, if Darius wasn’t careful, it would be Spreckelmeyer’s wrath he’d be facing and right soon if he kept it up.

Harley reappeared at Tony’s elbow and handed him the knife. “Thank ya. The fellas liked it real well.”

“Anytime, Harley.”

“Hey, that’s some kind of knife there, Mr. Morgan,” Mudge said. “Can I see it, too?”

Tony handed it to him.

“Look at this, Mayor,” he said, holding it up. “It has a fancy stag handle with the top shaped like a dog bone.”

Spreckelmeyer and the sheriff also leaned in for a better look.

“I’m surprised you still have that old thing, Tony,” Darius said. “I remember when Dad gave it to you.” He laughed. “Now, there’s an amusing story for you—”

Jeremy Gillespie busted through the parlor door covered in slush and skidding to a stop. He quickly scanned the room, spotted Tony and started toward him. He’d just reached their circle when he noticed Darius.

“That your brother?”

“Yeah. What’s the matter?”

Jeremy returned his attention to Tony. “It’s Crackshot.”

“What about him?”

“Well, we’d tied a gunnysack around the top o’ the bailer and let it down real slow-like, when the sulfur gas started to blow. So we all backed off, but Crackshot, he got a little impatient. I tried to tell him that sulfur’d knock him out. But he goes right back over there and starts swabbing all the while that gas’s rolling down his throat.”

Tony shook his head. “You’d think he’d have known better.”

“Aw, you know what a loose screw he is.”

Essie joined them, and Tony slipped his hand under her elbow. “Is Wilson all right?”

Pulling off his hat, Jeremy gave Essie a brief nod, then turned back to Tony. “He stood it for a while. Even started up with another jag when his knees just up and buckled.”

“Oh no. What did you do?” Essie asked.

Jeremy shrugged. “I grabbed that cup mask Tony takes such stock in.” He shook his head. “You should’ve seen me wearin’ that thing all the while I was wrestling with that load o’ human being, trying to get him far enough away so’s I could push up and down on that big set o’ lungs he has and pump some o’ that stuff out of him.”

“Where is he now?” Tony asked.

“Still lying there. But he’s breathing.”

Tony looked at the sheriff. “Can you find the doc and have him meet me out at the Agarita well?”

“Both me and Howard will look for him, but in this mess there’s no telling where he is. You’d be better off takin’ him to the doc’s house before dark sets in. We’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll go with you, Tony,” Judge Spreckelmeyer said.

“No, sir. I don’t want you out around that sulfur. And you’d be of more use looking for the doc.”

The judge nodded and headed off with Sheriff Dunn.

“Jeremy, go get Ewing,” Tony said. “He’s over there with my sister, that woman in white and yellow.”

“You think you’ll need the preacher?” Essie asked, concern lacing her voice.

“I just want to be prepared. Either way, I’ll come by the house tonight and let you know how he’s doing. Harley, you stay clear of the field, you hear? I don’t want you near the gas, either.”

He started to leave when Essie grabbed hold of his hand.

“Be careful, Tony. That sulfur is …” She swallowed.

It wasn’t just worry he saw in her eyes. It was something bigger. Something deeper. Something so sweet he couldn’t possibly resist it.

And right there in front of his brother, his cousin, and the entire oil industry of Texas, he grasped her chin and kissed her flush on the lips. “I’ll be careful.”

chapter TWENTY-THREE

IT WAS almost midnight when Essie finally headed toward home. At the Welcome Reception, some of her club members had uncovered the plans of a small group of automobile advocates. They intended to overrun tomorrow’s bicycle parade with their horseless carriages.

With a great deal of effort, Essie managed to track down this faction only to discover they had but one automobile between them. They were, however, quite intent upon using it.

“I’m a firm believer in progress, Mr. Roach,” she’d said. “It is my opinion that though your automobiles are slow and prone to break down, they will one day be as common on the street as horse-drawn vehicles.”

“Darn tootin’, ” he replied, spitting a wad of tobacco at his feet.

“I suggest a compromise.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m listenin’. ”

“Your vehicle can bring up the rear of the parade, and after you have passed, the crowd can fall in behind you, cheering you all the way to the racetrack.”

“No, ma’am. I wanna be at the front.”

“I’m afraid that is quite impossible. The entire event is centered around bicycles and they must lead the way. However, we could arrange for one of our city councilmen to ride in the vehicle with you, making your automobile our grand finale and hinting of our bright and prosperous future.”

Scratching his chest, he considered her for a moment, then thrust out his hand. “You got yerself a deal, little lady.”

She spent the next hour trying to find a councilman who was still awake and who would be willing to miss the parade so he could ride in the caboose.

Opening her gate, she stepped through. The city had coordinated the race with the cycle of the moon to ensure as much light as possible during the evening hours of the event weekend. That full moon now shone down on Tony Bryant Morgan lounging on her porch steps. Her fatigue fled.

He didn’t say a word as she moved forward, just patted the spot beside him.

“How’s Mr. Wilson … er, Crackshot?” she asked, settling on the step.

“In a minute,” he said, then gathered her in his arms and kissed her.

The scent of sandalwood and shaving soap surrounded her. He splayed one hand on her back, the other squeezed her waist. She tried to inch closer, but they were as close as their position would allow.

“Come here,” he said, slipping his arm beneath her legs.

But before he could lift her onto his lap, she placed her hands against his chest. “Absolutely not.”

He stilled, and she softened her words with a smile. “Much as I’d like to, it’s improper and we both know it.”

“Nothing will happen,” he murmured, shifting over onto one hip so he could hold her flush against him.

She shook her head, the brim of her hat knocking against his forehead.

“Will you take off your hat, at least?”

She pulled back. “You don’t like my hat?”

“I love your hat, but it’s in my way.”

“Which, in all likelihood, is just as well.”

He brushed her cheeks with his knuckles. “It’s also hiding your eyes from me and I want to see your eyes.”

She tried to scoot back, but he was having none of it.

“Don’t,” he said.

“I wasn’t going far. Just to the other end of the step, at least until my heart slows down a little bit.”

He ducked under her hat and trailed kisses along her jaw. “It won’t do you any good. I’ll simply follow you over there.”

“Tony, if we don’t stop I’ll have a difficult time staying, um, unmoved. So either you let me put some space between us or I will go on inside and we can talk about Crackshot tomorrow.”

Sighing, he moved his hands from her back to her face. “All right. Just one more, then we’ll talk.”

And what a kiss it was. By the conclusion of it, Tony was the one who stood and put distance between them. Standing a few feet away, with his back to her, he tilted his head up toward the sky.

Millions of stars glittered against its black backdrop. Was this what Abraham saw when God made His promise? Stars so brilliant and numerous no one could doubt His omnipotence?

“Will you marry me, Essie?”

She jerked her attention back to Tony. He’d turned to face her, his hands jammed in his pockets.

“What?” she said.

He stepped forward, bent down on one knee and took her hand in his. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her heart sped up. Her hands turned clammy. Her eyes filled.

The answer was on the tip of her tongue when she realized he’d never mentioned his feelings for her. Not ever. Not even once. Oh, she knew he enjoyed her company and that he was attracted to her. But she wanted more. Much more.

“Why?” she asked.

He seemed taken aback by the question. “Because I love you. Don’t you love me?” His grip on her hand loosened and he started to pull away. “I thought you …”

She squeezed his hand and fell to her knees in front of him. “I do, Tony. I love you very much. And, yes. I would absolutely love to be your lawfully wedded wife.”

A huge grin split his face. Scooping her up against him, he kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, answering his delight with her own.

When he finally pulled back, they were both having trouble breathing.

“Now will you take off your hat?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “Not yet. Not until the deed is done.”

He groaned. “What if I can’t wait that long?”

Placing a tiny kiss on his chin, she removed herself from his embrace and returned to the step. “Now … how’s Crackshot?”

And though her tone was casual, she could not calm the excitement and exhilaration she felt within. After all the years of singleness and all she’d been through, for the Lord to drop this man from the sky when she was least expecting it made her somewhat speechless.

Tony settled himself on the sidewalk, facing her. “He’s not good, Essie. He woke up, and he can breathe all right, but he can’t see.”

She sucked in her breath. “What do you mean? Are you saying he’s blind?”

“Yes, but we’re hoping it’s temporary. The doc has potatoes against his eyes and is keeping him in a dark room. As soon as Crackshot’s kin can get here, though, Doc wants them to take him down to Galveston where he can swim around in the ocean with his eyes open.”

“Will that cure him?”

“That’s what they say. Only time will tell, though.”

She covered her mouth. “I should have listened to you. If we’d had those cup masks, none of this would have happened.”

“No, it has nothing to do with the masks. If Crackshot had stayed back like the rest of ’em, he wouldn’t be laid out right now. My guess is, even if he had a mask, he would’ve been too cocky to wear it.” Tony shook his head. “He has nobody to blame but himself.”

She still couldn’t help but feel guilty. “Will you make sure any doctors settle up with me?”

“I will.” He stretched out his leg, then tapped her toe with his. “You sure were a long time coming home.”

“Last-minute details.”

He yawned.

“Goodness,” she said, rising to her feet. “You need to get to bed and get some rest. I need you in tip-top shape for tomorrow’s race.”

Standing, he brushed off his backside. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll be ready.” He joined her on the porch. “I have a ring for you, Essie.”

A ring?
She clasped her hands together, still struggling to comprehend how she could go from organizing parade details to becoming betrothed in the span of an hour.

He fished inside his pocket, then removed a bit of cloth. Unfurling it in his palm, he cradled a diamond ring, barely distinguishable in the shadows of the porch.

“I don’t need a ring, Tony,” she said, her throat closing.

“Yes, you do. All the Morgan women wear a diamond.” He reached for her left hand. “This one was my grandmother’s.”

She frowned. “I thought you were disinherited?”

“It belonged to my mother’s mother and had nothing to do with my father.”

He tried to take her ring finger, but she closed her hand around his.

“Don’t you think we should wait?”

“For what?”

“Well, to, to talk with Papa. And the truth is, there are still some things we need to talk through. After the bicycle race is over and things calm down will be soon enough.”

He frowned. “I don’t want to wait until then. I want everyone in Texas to know you’re mine and I want them to know it while they’re all here in town.”

She hesitated. “I do, too, Tony. But not until we’ve talked.”

“About what?”

“Things.”

“Well, you sure don’t sound like a very excited bride-to-be. Are you sure you even want to do this at all?” His tone was sharp, wounded.

“I
am
excited. You can’t imagine how thrilled I am.”

He said nothing.

“Tony, it’s just that, well—”

“Are you gonna marry me or not?”

“I am.”

“Then give me your hand.”

Biting her lip, she slowly lifted her left hand. He slid the ring on, the metal smooth, his fingers rough.

“It fits perfectly,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” But his voice was clipped.

“I really am excited, Tony, and the ring is lovely.”

“You can’t even see it. It’s too dark.”

“I don’t need to see it. Just having you give it to me makes it everything I’d ever want.”

He stood stiffly for a moment. “Well, good night, then.”

She clasped his hand. “I love you.”

After a slight hesitation, he pulled her against him. “I love you, too. So much it scares me.”

He kissed her thoroughly, then rested his forehead against her hat’s brim.

“I didn’t mean to be so clumsy in the asking, Essie. The question just kind of popped out.”

“It was perfect.”

“A fella only has one chance to ask his woman to marry him.

He’s supposed to have flowers and poetry and stuff like that. The only reason I had the ring with me was because Mother gave it to me tonight at the reception.”

“She did?”

He nodded. “I asked her to bring it.”

Essie stilled. “When?”

“When I knew I wanted to marry you.”

“And when was that?”

“For a while now.”

She laid her hand against his chest. The diamond on her finger caught the moonlight. “I loved your proposal and I love the ring. I’ll cherish them both forever.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Good night, love.”

“Good night, Tony.”

The diamond was huge. And beautiful. And hers.

Essie knelt beside her bed in her nightdress, moving her finger this way and that, watching the facets of the stone capture the candlelight and reflect it back at her.

She wondered if it would make rainbows on the walls when the sun hit it just right. Her grandmother used to have crystal prisms hanging in her front window. As a girl, Essie would jiggle them just as the sun was beginning its descent, then stand as tiny rainbows danced across the walls and the floor and even herself.

Tony said his mother had given the ring to him. That pallid woman she’d met briefly at the reception and who had innocently asked if Tony were courting her had, all the time, knowingly carried an heirloom that she would, by evening’s end, relinquish forever to another woman. A woman she didn’t even know.

What had she thought when Essie brushed her off so easily on to the mayor’s wife? When Essie had been too busy filling a bathtub up with punch to sit down for a proper visit? Did she know Essie was thirty-four years old, ran a bicycle club, and was part owner of Morgan Oil’s biggest rival?

She worried over Tony’s earlier refusal to hear her confessions. At the same time, she wondered how critical it was for her to share those transgressions with him. She’d already confessed them to the Lord. He’d forgiven her and pronounced her clean.

Did that mean she wasn’t obligated to ask for pardon from her fiancé? Was the Lord’s forgiveness truly enough for her and Tony both? Maybe she wouldn’t tell Tony anything. Maybe she didn’t need to.

She folded her hands together.

Dear Lord, thank you for giving me Tony. I love him. I want him more than life itself. But I do not want him more than I want you. Give me wisdom. Guide me. Show me what you would have me do.

Opening her eyes, she admired her ring one more time before blowing out the light and crawling into bed.