The Shepherd's Voice (21 page)

Gabe stopped the team in front of the jail. He stared at the sign that read “Sheriff’s Office” and fought against the painful memories lurking around the edges of his mind. He fought and failed.

He felt again the handcuffs clamped tightly around his wrists. He remembered the despair and anguish of knowing, even in his state of drunkenness, that he was at fault for his brother’s death. He heard his father’s furious accusations of murder and understood now, as he had then, how much his father hated him.

“Shall I go with you?” Akira asked.

“No.” His answer was abrupt and firm.

“Gabe —”

“Do your errands, Akira. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

He hopped down from the wagon seat and strode toward the door. Something heavy pressed against his chest as he stepped inside the office. He wanted to turn and run. Instead, he closed the door.

Andy Newton appeared a few moments later from the doorway leading to the two jail cells at the rear of the building. His eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised Gabe had kept his word. Then he said, “Talmadge.”

“Sheriff.”

“Didn’t expect you this early in the day.”

“Just as soon get it over with.”

The sheriff nodded, then motioned toward his desk. “I’ve got the paperwork over here. Have a seat.”

Without a word, Gabe moved to a chair and sat down.

“You’ve been back in Ransom how long now?” Andy asked. “’Bout two months? That right?”

“Yes.”

“By the way, congratulations on your marriage. You’re a lucky man.”

Gabe wondered if there was a hidden meaning behind the sheriff’s words.

“Folks around here think a lot of your wife. They liked her grandfather, too, from all I’ve heard.” As he spoke, Andy slid a sheet of paper across the desk toward Gabe. “Gotta respect a woman who can run a sheep ranch near single-handed. ’Course, there’s Brodie, too. Guess he’s been at Dundreggan almost from the beginning.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.” Gabe started filling in the spaces on the form.

The sheriff leaned back in his chair, his action accompanied by a mournful squeak. “Small towns are interesting. Everybody knows everybody else’s business. I grew up in the big city myself. But my wife, she’s from a wide spot in the road over in Colorado. She didn’t take to city life much, and that’s how we ended up here.”

Gabe stared at the next question on the page, wishing the sheriff would shut up so he could get finished and get out of there.

“Sheriff Plunkett, from what I’ve heard, was a tough old bird.”

“Yeah,” Gabe muttered, “he was tough.”

“Loyal to your father from all reports. Blind loyal, if what I’ve heard is true.”

Gabe’s jaw hurt. Maybe from clenching his teeth. Maybe from
remembering the night Plunkett had arrested him. When Gabe had tried to speak, the crusty old lawman had punched him, knocking him clean off his feet. Of course, it hadn’t helped that Gabe was in a drunken stupor.

“I’m a different kind of sheriff from my predecessor.”

Gabe signed his name, then pushed the paper toward Andy. He met the other man’s watchful gaze. “Anything else you need from me, Sheriff?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Andy sat forward, leaning his arms on the desk. “I need to tell you to keep your nose clean, no matter what else happens.”

Gabe didn’t reply. What was there to say?

The sheriff’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not sure you understand me. This”—he pointed at the form on the desk between them—“isn’t normal. You know it and I know it. Somebody wants you to make a mistake. Don’t make one. Don’t make my job more difficult than it has to be.”

It took a moment for Andy’s words to sink in. He’d thought the sheriff wanted a chance to throw him back in the slammer. Instead, he seemed to be acknowledging that an injustice had been done to Gabe.

“The town’s different now than it was fourteen years ago,” the sheriff commented.

Gabe stood. “Lots of things are different. Me included.”

“Talmadge?” Andy stood too. “I’m here to help if ever I can.” He held out his hand. “Remember that.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Gabe shook the man’s hand, then turned and left.

It had been an odd encounter, he thought as he strode along the sidewalk toward the general store. Not at all what he’d expected.

His footsteps slowed.

I didn’t trust You
,
did I
,
Lord? I should’ve trusted You
,
and I didn’t. I expected everything to be like it’s always been. Even now
,
when You’ve given me so much
,
I’m still expecting things to be like always. I’m expecting the worst. Wish You’d let me know what’s happening
,
what it is I’m supposed to do. I know You speak to me in Your Word
,
but I don’t know it well enough
,
and I don’t always understand what I do know.

He turned the corner, stopping when he saw Akira loading supplies in the back of the wagon.

She hears Your voice. Really hears it. I know she does because I’ve seen that certain look on her face when she knows You’ve spoken. Wish I could hear You as clearly. I’m probably wanting more than’s rightfully mine. But I guess nothing’s rightfully mine
,
is it
,
Jesus? You’ve already done more for me than I deserve.

Akira tossed another feed sack onto the wagon bed. She was strong for such a slight thing. And there sure wasn’t another woman he’d ever seen that could look as pretty in a baggy pair of overalls, her head covered with a floppy straw hat.

She deserves better than me for a husband.

He leaned his shoulder against the wall of the bank.

I’m not good enough for her. Not as a Christian. Not as a man. Don’t make her pay for my mistakes
,
God. I’m asking that much. Don’t let anything I’ve done or ever do hurt her in any way. She’s a good woman
,
and she loves You with all her heart.

If ever he found himself wondering if God loved him, Gabe figured all he had to do was look at Akira.

My wife.

He pushed away from the building, standing straight, staring at her.

Was it possible what he felt was more than affection? Was it love? And more importantly, was it possible she loved him? Not the
love Christians were supposed to feel for the hurting and the lost, but the kind a woman felt for a man.

An odd mixture of emotions filled his chest. Fear and hope. Dread and joy. God had promised to open the windows of heaven and pour out an overflowing blessing until he couldn’t take it in.

And so He had.

Akira slung the last burlap bag onto the wagon bed, then paused to wipe the perspiration from her brow. When she turned, she saw Gabe standing at the street corner, watching her. She waved but didn’t smile, uncertain what had transpired since she left him at the sheriff’s office. Had it been worse or better than he’d expected? She’d been praying unceasingly for it to be better.

He started toward her.

Oh, Father. Please …

“You should have waited for me,” he said when he stopped beside the wagon. “I would have loaded the heavy sacks.”

“They weren’t too heavy.”
What happened? Tell me what happened.

The hint of a smile curved one corner of his mouth.

Her heart skipped a beat in response to it.

After a long, breathless moment, his gaze shifted from her to some point beyond her left shoulder.

She turned to see what had stolen his attention. It was Pauline, disembarking from her chauffeur-driven automobile, looking like a motion picture star in her high-fashion dress, shoes and silk stockings, her hair perfectly coiffured.

Akira felt suddenly dowdy, dusty, and sweaty.

“I won’t be long,” Pauline said to her driver. It was only then she seemed to notice Gabe and Akira. She smiled broadly and
started toward them. “Well, hello. Is everything all right at your ranch? I didn’t see you at church yesterday, and I was wondering.”

“Things are fine,” Gabe answered, stepping up to stand next to Akira. “We’ve been busy with harvesting. It’s a lot of work this time of year, you know.”

“No, I can’t even imagine.” Pauline’s laughter was melodic, a sound as beautiful as the woman herself. “Good heavens! I don’t grow my own flowers. I swear, I merely look at a plant and it withers. Without our gardener, our yard would be a sorry sight.”

“You should talk to Akira.” Gabe placed his arm around her shoulders. “Dundreggan has flowers everywhere. She can grow anything.”

Pleasure flowed over her, like warm honey over a biscuit, a balm on her insecurities.

Pauline’s gaze shifted from Gabe to Akira. “I would love to see your flowers. Would you mind if I came for a visit next week?”

Hudson’s wife as a guest in her home? It was unthinkable.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Pauline continued, sounding slightly less sure of herself.

Akira shoved aside her uncharitable thoughts, ashamed of her reaction. “You wouldn’t be putting me out. Please do come. Come whenever it’s convenient, Mrs. Talmadge.”

“Pauline.” She held out her white-gloved hand. “Please call me Pauline. After all, we’re
both
Mrs. Talmadge now.”

Akira paused. Her hands were filthy after tossing around the feed sacks. And even if they were clean, the calluses on her palms would snag the delicate lace fabric of Pauline’s glove.

Pauline obviously misunderstood the hesitation. She pulled back her hand, placing it against her abdomen, as if holding in something painful. Her expression revealed nothing, and yet, Akira sensed she was disappointed, perhaps hurt.

Instinctively, she extended both arms, hands open, palms up. “I didn’t want to soil your gloves.”

Pauline stared at Akira’s hands for a moment. Then, ever so slowly, the shadow of a smile returned. As it did so, Akira became aware of something else—Pauline’s smiles never quite reached her eyes. They were sometimes dazzling, sometimes amused. But they seemed never to come from a place of real joy.

With sudden discernment, she knew Gabe’s stepmother was lonely and not at all what Akira had expected her to be.

They were halfway back to Dundreggan before Gabe asked, “Do you think Hud put her up to it?” The question had been plaguing him for the past hour.

Akira didn’t ask for him to clarify, so he was certain Pauline had been on her mind, too.

“I don’t know,” she answered.

He glanced at his wife. “You didn’t have to invite her to the ranch.”

“I know.” She met his gaze. “But I wanted to. She seems so … so unhappy.”

Gabe couldn’t argue with the truth. Still, Pauline hadn’t been to church in Ransom until he started going—or so he’d been told. That in and of itself made her motives suspect. He was familiar with his father’s ability to manipulate the actions of others. Was he manipulating Pauline?