Scars of the Heart (34 page)

“My interest? I’ll tell you what my interest is. That sonofabitch killed my father. How’s that for interest?”

From the corner of her eye, Carly caught the other players exchange glances; then Tennison looked at her and offered a quick shake of his head. These men had probably heard Junior’s rant more times than they could count, but Carly ignored the banker’s plea and pressed on.

“Oh my! You poor dear. I had no idea! When did this tragedy occur?” She summoned a full countenance of concern for Proctor and disdain for Kade.

“It’s been years now, but the murderin’ bastard slipped away, never got arrested, never stood trial.” Proctor drained his glass. With effort he managed to refocus his vision on Carly and continue. “But now, now they caught him. Now he’s gonna pay fer what he did. Now he’s gonna hang.”

“Well, that’s yet to be seen, isn’t it?” Adams interjected and arched a brow as he gained the other players’ attention. “Roberts may be long gone. He apparently has no allegiance to Miss Dawson here. What does he care if she loses the money she posted? I’m quite sure he’s fled the state again.”

Carly hadn’t considered this scenario. She watched Junior’s eyes go round as panic threatened. “Actually, Mr. Adams, I saw Roberts earlier today. I had just stepped out of the mercantile when I noticed him across the way, talking and laughing with two pretty young ladies.”

“I’m surprised,” offered Tennison. “I thought he’d run as soon as he had the chance.”

“You never shoulda bailed him out, Carly.” Proctor swayed precariously and nearly toppled from his chair.

Adams helped steady Junior, and Carly checked the window. Night shadows concealed all beyond the glass. “Had I known the details of what transpired between Roberts and your father, I certainly would not have helped the scoundrel.” She paused to take a deep, steadying breath. “What did happen, Nelson, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The other men at the table exchanged looks of impatience once again, but Junior focused on no one except Carly.

“Well, Kade and Daddy fought, that’s what. Only Kade didn’t fight fair. He was a hellion, that one. And after his momma died, he just got mean. Poor Daddy had his hands full, trying to take on that ranch and that wild half-breed. I don’t ’member what Kade had done, but Daddy went to the barn to discipline him. That boy needed lots of discipline.”

Junior got up to refill his glass, knocking over his chair in the process.

“There now, Proctor—don’t you think you’ve had enough for tonight?” Tennison stood to retrieve the fallen chair.

Carly followed Junior to the beverage cart and smiled encouragingly as the man sloshed a generous portion of Scotch into his glass. “So you saw the whole thing? Poor dear. How terrible that must’ve been for you.” She patted Junior on the arm.

“Uh, no, I only went out to the barn after I heard all the yellin’, just in time to see Kade stab Daddy with the pitchfork, plunged it right into his neck and shoulder. Blood just came spilling out, everywhere.”

“And then you ran in to try and save your father? You brave man!”

Proctor gave the others a nervous glance. “Well, no, I went to get the doc and the law. I mean, I knew it was bad, real bad. And Roberts coulda done the same to me, you know. If I’d gone in there, Kade coulda stabbed me, too.”

Junior swayed unsteadily on his feet, but Carly continued to push for information. “Poor, poor Nelson. You must’ve been terrified. So you ran into the barn, saw Roberts stab your daddy, then ran out before he could turn on you?”

“Yes, I mean no.” Proctor furrowed his brow. “Not exactly. I hid in the grain room, you know, and watched. I was scared, you know, with all the yellin’ and what have you.”

Adams stood. “Proctor, that’s not what you said originally when you first talked with the authorities.”

“It’s not?” Proctor scratched his head.

“No, it’s not. You said you ran into the barn, that you tried to stop Roberts, that you saw him stab your father and barely got out alive.” Adams took a step closer to Proctor and Carly.

Junior blinked his eyes rapidly as if trying to clear the fog. Carly felt encouraged. He was having a hard time keeping his story straight. She decided to skip that point for the time being and press another. “They were fighting, Roberts and your father? Did your father at least have something with which to defend himself? A stick or a gun or something?”

“Fighting? What? No gun, no. A quirt, you know, for horses.” Proctor lifted his drink to his mouth and looked around the room. “Just to punish Kade with. You know. Kade was ’bout grown, too big for Daddy to hurt really. Daddy just had to make a point.”

With another window check, Carly continued. “Sounds like Roberts was perhaps just defending himself then.” She eyed Junior warily.

“What? No! He wasn’t defending himself. He did it. He stabbed Daddy. He killed him, on purpose. I saw it!” Proctor showered the air between him and Carly with spittle.

“I’m sorry, Nelson—I’m just a bit confused. Were you there in the barn or were you hiding in the grain room? Was your daddy whipping Roberts or did Roberts just pick up a pitchfork and stab him?” Carly noticed the other men had abandoned their cards and moved closer to the conversation.

Proctor rubbed his thumb and forefinger across his eyes. “I, uh, I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to talk about this. Why are we talking about this?”

Carly watched as he transformed from an angry man to a confused boy. But before she could ask her next question, Adams interrupted.

“What do you mean you don’t know, Proctor? You’re going before the judge with this case in a few more weeks. Your attorney needs to know that your story is solid. You said you ran into the barn and saw Roberts stab your father. Did you or didn’t you?”

Proctor didn’t like being the center of attention. He looked around the ring of expectant faces and took a step backward. “Yeah, that’s what happened. That’s exactly what happened. I, uh, I heard the yellin’. I ran to the barn. I went inside and saw Daddy fall. Kade went over and rolled him. There was blood, so much blood. Then I ran. I, uh, went for help, like I said.”

Adams moved a step closer. “What do you mean
you saw him fall and then Kade went over
? If Kade stood close enough to stab your father, how could he run over to him?”

Tennison spoke up. “If I remember correctly, Roberts claimed your father fell on that pitchfork. Is that what happened, Proctor? Was Roberts telling the truth and the whole thing was an accident?”

Carly held her breath. She couldn’t believe their good luck. Never did she dream the other players would help her catch Junior in his lie.

Proctor stammered. “No, no, that’s not what happened. It wasn’t an accident. Kade did it. Kade killed Daddy. He needs to pay for that. He left the pitchfork there. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault.” He took another step backward.

“You just said, ‘He left the pitchfork there,’ Proctor. Roberts was telling the truth, wasn’t he? You’ve lied all along. Your father fell on that pitchfork. Roberts didn’t stab him.” Adams stood directly in front of the man.

Though Carly couldn’t see Kade, she smiled at the window. She knew he was there. She hoped he heard every word. Even if he didn’t, the others had. They’d done it! They’d backed Junior into a corner and gotten him to admit the truth.

“What are you looking at, Carly?” Buckley bounced his gaze from her to the window. “Who are you smiling at? Who’s out there?”

Now Carly became the center of attention. She stammered. “What? No one. I wasn’t . . . I was just, uh . . .”

Adams continued to quiz Proctor, but the other men turned to Carly. Tennison hurried to the window and peered out, then returned to stand by Buckley. “What is this? What’s going on here, Miss Dawson?”

“Nothing, Mr. Tennison. I assure you I simply became confused during Junior, uh, Mr. Proctor’s recounting of the events. Didn’t you?”

Her head spun, and she simultaneously wished she hadn’t drank the amount of whiskey she had and that she could have another drink right now.

“Something does not feel right here, Miss Dawson.” Tennison glanced again toward the window; then at Proctor and back to Carly. “I’m beginning to feel like you may have orchestrated this whole thing, from securing an invitation from me to steering Proctor toward this conversation.”

Carly laughed nervously. “But no harm was done here, Mr. Tennison. The important thing is, we got to the truth. Right? Kade Roberts was telling the truth. Proctor’s death was an accident. Kade is innocent of the crime he’s been accused of.”

“You’re helping Roberts?” Proctor stared at Carly in disbelief. His wide eyes narrowed, and he advanced a step.

“Well, I . . .” Carly searched the darkness beyond the window yet again.

“Even if she is, Proctor, Miss Dawson makes a good point. You have falsified the happenings of that evening. It seems your father’s death was indeed an accident. Roberts is innocent.” Adams crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Proctor to explain.

Nelson looked from one man to the next and the next. As his sights landed on Carly, he face reddened. “You little bitch! Why’d you interfere?”

Adams tried to sum things up. “Settle down, Proctor. It’s over. We’ll have to go to the authorities with this.”

“That’s right, Junior. This lie of yours has come to an end.” The group turned in unison toward the sound of the voice. Kade stood in the doorway of the office. “You’re going to the authorities and tell them the truth. Then you’re going to get out of my house and off of my ranch.”

Carly smiled broadly, relieved to see Kade, elated that their plan had worked. She took a step in his direction. In a flash, Junior grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back against him. A cry escaped Carly. Both Buckley and Kade made a move toward Proctor, but he snatched up an empty bottle and smashed it against the nearby desk. Carly yelped and cringed as glass shards flew in every direction. A second later, Proctor held the jagged neck of the bottle at her throat. Kade and Buckley froze.

“Proctor—” Kade’s voice held a warning.

“Stay back, Kade! I’ll cut her! I swear I will.” He looked wild-eyed around the room. All the men stared at him with accusation, disrespect, contempt. Kade stood between him and the door.

“She has nothing to do with this, Junior.” Kade held his hands in front of him, palms down. “Drop the bottle, man. This is between you and me.”

“You killed him, Kade. You killed Daddy. Maybe you didn’t actually stab him, but it was your fault. And now I have nothing. You don’t get to win, Kade. You don’t get the ranch and the girl and leave me with nothing!” Proctor jabbed the bottle remains toward Carly.

Kade noticed her wince as the glass pricked her skin. With Junior’s other hand ensnared in her hair, she couldn’t move any farther away. He held her firmly against his chest. Kade willed himself to remain calm, to not launch at the man.  He concentrated on steady breathing and Nelson’s face.   

“Junior, I’m sorry about your daddy. I apologized then—I’ll apologize again. But it was an accident. You and I both know it. You saw him fall. I never would’ve caused him serious injury. I can’t bring him back, Junior. I can’t undo the past. But you can. You have the opportunity to come clean, to tell the truth, to do the right thing.” Kade took a step toward Carly.

Proctor jabbed her again. She squeezed her eyes tight as a little yelp escaped her lips. Kade saw a thin crimson line form on her creamy skin. It took every ounce of the self-control he possessed not to leap across the space between them and close his bare hands around Junior’s throat.

Kade clenched his teeth and pulled in a steadying breath. Any sudden movement on his part could mean the end of Carly’s life. Junior was crazed, desperate. Kade knew he had to proceed with extreme care.

From the corner of his eye, Kade saw Buckley take a step forward. Without taking his sights off Junior, Kade quickly stilled Buckley’s movement with a raised palm. He appreciated the man’s willingness to help, but Kade knew Carly’s next breath depended on the finesse with which they handled this situation.

“Listen to me, Junior. You need to think here. You’re creating a bad deal for yourself. You’ve lied about your father’s death. You’ve illegally sold off sections of my ranch. I can’t say that I’m not angry about that—I am. But I’m willing to let it go, Junior. I’m willing to let those waters rush on down the river if you do the right thing right now. Let Carly go. Let her go, and we’ll square things up with the authorities. Then you ride away, like a man.”

But Proctor didn’t seem like a man. He resembled a boy. Tears slipped from his reddened eyes now. He shook his head from side to side. His mouth worked, but words didn’t come. Carly’s eyes were wide and filled with fear. Kade tried to convey all he could through his intense stare; reassurance, calmness, love.

Finally Proctor found his voice. “No, Kade, no. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. You were always better than me . . . stronger, smarter, the favorite. You don’t get to win. I’ll have nothing. You’ll have it all.”

Kade tried desperately not to focus on the drops of blood coursing down Carly’s slender neck. Yet his sights ricocheted from Junior’s contorted features to the creamy white skin that Kade’s lips had caressed just that morning. The little stream of blood continued downward and created a spreading patch of bright red on her bodice, begging his attention, demanding intervention.

“I’ll be found innocent whether you come forward or not, Junior. I have witnesses here. And I’ll get my ranch back. What you do right now will not change either of those things.” He took another small step. “But I swear to you, with all that I am, if you hurt her, I will kill you. I will take your life before Carly’s body falls to the ground, and then you
will
have nothing.”

Kade noticed Carly’s eyes widen, but he kept his sights trained firmly on Junior.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was Proctor’s ragged breathing. Kade could almost hear the man’s heart slamming into the wall of his chest.

Buckley interjected. “Roberts is right, Proctor. This is over for you. You can go out right, or you can go down badly. Drop the bottle. Let Miss Dawson go.”