The Shepherd's Voice (36 page)

Thomasina Attebury set a cup of coffee and a piece of gooseberry pie on the table in front of Jane Sebastian. Other than Thomasina, Jane was the only person in the River Restaurant.

“I heard Mr. Talmadge plans to close the Logger’s Cafe.” Thomasina sighed before adding, “Maybe it’ll help my business some. Heaven knows I could use a few more customers, or I’ll be forced to close down myself.”

Jane searched for something encouraging to say, but she could think of nothing. The facts echoed in the silence all around her.

“There’s even a rumor he’s going to shut down the mill.”

“Shut it down?
Completely?”

Thomasina nodded. “Henry Teague told me so when he and Lilybet came for supper last night. Lilybet’s afraid they’ll have to leave Ransom like the Wickhams did.”

“Well, the Wickhams didn’t have to go far. Thanks be to God.”

“And how many displaced lumbermen do you think Akira Macauley can employ as shepherds?”

“Akira Talmadge.”

“Yes. Well. What does it matter? The answer’s still the same.” Thomasina rose. “Did you know Akira’s got that crazy Jones woman’s
kids staying with her? Her husband brought them home with him earlier in the week. I hear Looney Lindy’s dying. Leastwise if George knows what he’s talking about, she is.” She turned and walked away, mumbling, “So much trouble and heartache. So much trouble.”

Jane stared at the slice of pie. Was the mill really going to close? If it did, there’d be more folks than just the Teagues who’d be leaving. Ransom could well become a ghost town in no time at all.

She took a bite of the pastry, but it didn’t taste as good as she’d anticipated. Not because there was anything wrong with Thomasina’s baking. No, Jane had simply lost her appetite for anything sweet and rich.

O Lord
,
she’s right. There’s so much trouble in the town. What can be done?

She didn’t have to worry about her own needs. The Sebastian farm wasn’t mortgaged, and they raised the majority of their own food. Her brother, Zachary, was a conservative man, and she was no spendthrift herself. They would have ample means to see themselves through leaner times. The same was true of Akira and Gabe and all who worked for them.

But there were many others, already suffering in these hard times, who would be devastated if the mill closed. Where would they go? Men were out of work all over the country. How would her neighbors and friends support their families?

Jane left some coins next to her plate to pay for her coffee and dessert, then rose from her chair. As she turned, the bell above the door tinkled, announcing another customer’s arrival. She lifted her gaze to see who it was.

“Gabe,” she said with a note of surprise.

“Hi, Miss Jane.”

She smiled. “Good to see you.”

“I ran into Zach a few minutes ago. He said you were over here, having a bite to eat.”

“Come join me.” She sank onto the chair. “You can finish my pie.”

He crossed the restaurant to the table where Jane was seated. “Wasn’t it any good?” he asked softly, looking at the dessert on her plate, then casting a quick glance toward the kitchen.

“It’s delicious. I just —” She stopped abruptly. “It doesn’t matter. Sit down, please.”

He did.

“Is everything all right out at the ranch?”

“George’s been talking, hasn’t he?”

Jane nodded.

“Everything’s fine.” A small frown puckered his brow. “But I did come to see you for a reason. I need to ask you something.” He dropped his gaze to the table. With his fingers, he turned the pie plate in a slow circle.

“What is it?” she prompted after a lengthy silence.

“You knew my mother. You were her friend.” He met her gaze again. “Am I really a Talmadge or the by-blow of some preacher she knew?”

Jane gasped. “Where on earth …?”

But she didn’t need to finish her question. She knew where he’d gotten such an idea.

Gabe hadn’t meant for the question to come out quite that way. He touched the back of Jane’s hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, I do. I should have told you long ago why your father acted the way he did toward you. I was wrong not to, but I kept
hoping …” She sighed. “Gabe, your mother was not the sort of woman who would break her wedding vows. God alone knows why, but she loved your father. Deeply loved him. It brought her little but grief, far as I could see. Except for you boys.” She smiled sadly. “She loved Max, and she loved you before she laid eyes on you.”

Questions swirled in Gabe’s mind, but he stopped himself from asking them, believing it better for her to tell the story in her own way and at her own pace.

“Max was a toddler when your folks first arrived in the valley. Ransom wasn’t anything more than a few farms and a general store where the old stage stop had been, but it didn’t take your father long to start making changes. He worked all the time, seven days a week, from dawn to late into the night, building his mill, creating his empire.”

Jane seemed to look at him, but Gabe sensed she was actually staring into the past.

“Hudson built Clarice a beautiful house. Nothing like the mansion he’s got now, but beautiful all the same. That’s when I came to work for her, doing housework a couple of times a week. She made that house a home, filling it with warmth and love. Never knew another person with a heart so full of love. At least, not until I met Akira.” She sighed again. “And like your wife, your mother had a great love for God. Hudson never believed in anything except getting richer and richer.”

Gabe nodded.

“There wasn’t a church in Ransom back then, but the preacher from over in Lovejoy came to lead services once each month. Your mother offered the use of the Talmadge parlor for those services. Reverend Bell was a handsome man, but what was most noticeable about him was his enormous heart for Jesus. He and Clarice loved
to talk about the Lord and about the Bible. She
did
love him, but only as her brother in Christ. Hudson couldn’t understand that kind of love. He couldn’t ’cause he had no concept of God or what pure love is. He finally told Clarice that if Reverend Bell ever set foot in their house again, he’d kill him. And I think he would have.”

Gabe felt a horrible weight on his chest.

“I don’t know what your mother wrote to Reverend Bell, but he didn’t come back to Ransom again. I heard he got a church up north somewhere the next year.” She drew a deep breath and met his gaze. “It wasn’t long after that that Clarice told your father she was going to have another baby. She was thrilled. She considered it such a blessing. Max was over two by that time, and she’d feared there wouldn’t be any more children.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “Only your father accused her of carrying Reverend Bell’s child.”

Gabe could almost hear Hudson shouting the accusation.

“Clarice told me she and Reverend Bell were never alone together, had never behaved in any way inappropriate. She wouldn’t have lied. I knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t capable of telling an untruth. But that didn’t matter to Hudson. He believed she was unfaithful to him, and as far as he was concerned, that made it true. Clarice prayed that once you were born he would realize his error. She loved your father, despite everything. She prayed and prayed, but …” She fell silent, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

“But she died,” Gabe finished for her.

“Yes.”

“And that was my fault too.”

Softly, “Yes.”

Silence encompassed them.

Maybe Akira’s right. Maybe in his own twisted way
,
Hud loved my mother.
The thought brought him little comfort.

“Gabe,” Jane said at last, “you are like your mother in so many
ways. You inherited her kind heart and her generous nature. You share her faith, too. That would have brought her the greatest joy of all. Remember that.”

“I’ll remember.”

Pauline winced as she stepped from the automobile. Even after three days, it hurt to walk on her ankle.

She noticed Eugene carefully avoided looking in her eyes. Her chauffeur had to know, of course. All the servants had to know what Hudson had done to her in the library the other night. When he hit her the first time, she’d screamed loud enough for anyone in the house to hear. She’d thought someone might come to her aid. No one had. Not any of the times she had screamed.

“I won’t be long, Eugene,” she said, then walked toward the dry-goods store.

She’d been surprised when Hudson told her she could go shopping. She had thought he meant to keep her locked up. Perhaps forever.

Be careful what you say, Pauline. Cross me again, and you won’t live long enough to regret it. Do I make myself clear?

She shivered involuntarily at the memory of his words and drew her coat more closely about her.

Dorothea Baker welcomed her the moment she entered the store.

“I’d like to look at some of your dress patterns,” Pauline told the woman.

“We got in a new selection last week, Mrs. Talmadge. You’re sure to find something you like.”

After she was seated, the pattern book on the table before her, Pauline whispered a soft thanks to Dorothea.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Talmadge. You let me know if I can help you.”

“Mrs. Baker, wait.” The words escaped her before she could think better of it.

Dorothea looked back.

“Do you sell Bibles here?”

Surprise fluttered across the woman’s face. “Yes.”

What if Hudson heard what she’d asked? What if Dorothea told him?

“Thank you,” she said again, then looked down at the pattern book, pretending to be utterly engrossed.

After a moment or two, more customers entered the store, stomping their feet and talking amongst themselves. Dorothea returned to the front counter to wait on them.

But maybe Mrs. Baker wouldn’t tell Hud what I bought. Why should she?

It would be crazy to buy a Bible. Hudson had hurt her for merely looking for one in the library. What would he do if she were to spend his money to buy one?