The Shepherd's Voice (42 page)

We’re here
,
Gabriel. You aren’t alone.

He returned his gaze to Akira. He tried to think of something to say, but his heart was too full, his emotions too strong.

The door opened again, and along with a blast of cold winter air came George Edwards and Dr. Kirkland from over in Lovejoy. Seeing the crowded office, the two men hesitated before the doctor closed the door.

“Sheriff,” George said as he removed his hat, “we’ve come to talk to you about Gabe Talmadge.”

Several people actually chuckled.

A roar of outrage silenced them all. En masse they looked toward the corner where Hudson was now on his feet, glaring at them.

“What’s happened to this town? A man’s dead, and you’re all speaking up for his killer. Doesn’t anyone care what he did?” Hudson pointed at Gabe. “He’s murdered before, and now he’s murdered again.”

In that instant, God spoke to Gabe’s heart: WHAT MEN HAVE MEANT FOR EVIL, I MEAN FOR GOOD. The last vestiges of his disquiet and despair vanished, as if excised by a surgeon’s scalpel.

“You know I didn’t do it.” He looked at his father, calm and unafraid. “You know I didn’t kill him, Father.”

Hudson called him a foul name.

“Gabe’s telling the truth,” a man said from the open doorway. “I was there. I saw what happened.”

George and Dr. Kirkland stepped aside and allowed Danny Peck to enter the deathly quiet sheriff’s office.

THIRTY

Akira didn’t know what to think as Danny Peck moved to the center of the room. Especially when it appeared he was sober. She didn’t think she’d seen him that way before.

“Peck —” Hudson began.

“Sit down and shut up, Talmadge,” the sheriff ordered. “Danny, you were at the mill?”

“I was there.” He looked at Gabe. “I was hiding in the closet in his office.”

Hudson made a rude noise. “Sleeping off a drunk, no doubt.”

“No,” Danny responded without looking away from Gabe. “I was stone cold sober. By choice. I went to the mill to tell your father I wasn’t doin’ no more of his dirty work. He paid me to kill your sheep.”

Akira pressed a hand against her chest.

“I felt like you and your missus owed me somethin’. I was glad to get paid t’try and hurt you. Then I saw the boy there.” He pointed. “Ethan’s my nephew. Ain’t that true, boy?”

Several people in the room muttered words of surprise as Ethan nodded.

“Looney Lindy’s my sister, and I know now what you done for her. You took in my kin when it shoulda been me doin’ it. You
and Akira cared for them when they didn’t have nobody else. They sure didn’t have me. Lindy washed her hands of me a long time ago ’cause of my drinkin’.”

Hudson stood again. “What does this have to do with Carruthers’s murder and the attempt on my life?”

“I told you to be quiet, Talmadge,” Andy responded, “and I meant it. Don’t interrupt again, or I’ll put you in one of the cells in the back.”

Danny took a step closer to Gabe. “I went to the mill to give your old man back what money I had left. I didn’t want it. Not no more. I was sick of what I done.” Now he turned his gaze toward the sheriff. “When Talmadge and Carruthers got there, they was arguing, and I thought it’d be better if I saw Talmadge alone. So I slipped into the closet, leaving the door open a bit so’s I wouldn’t get locked in.”

When Danny paused, every person in the room—Akira included—seemed to stop breathing, waiting until he continued.

“Carruthers told Talmadge he’s ruined. That he’d shut things down too late. The banks’re gonna take everything he’s got left.”

Several gasps punctuated the air.

“Carruthers showed him something written in a little book he always carried. That’s when Talmadge told him it was his fault and called him stupid. He told Carruthers he was fired and to get out. Talmadge turned his back. Carruthers hit him over the head with that brass lamp stand. I thought sure he’d kill him. When he came at him again, Talmadge stabbed him in the gut with somethin’ he grabbed off his desk. Carruthers, he was bleedin’ like a stuck pig when he went down. Then Talmadge passed out.”

Akira glanced up at Gabe, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he realize this proved his innocence? The sheriff hadn’t told anyone how Carruthers had died. There was no other
way Danny could have known all this. He must have been present, just as he said.

Andy rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Were you still in the closet when Gabe arrived?”

“No sir. I was gettin’ outta there as quick as I could. But I only made it down the stairs before I heard Gabe comin’ in. So I hid in the boiler room. He went up the stairs and about five or so minutes later, you arrived. I laid low until you took Gabe and Talmadge away in your car, then I skedaddled.”

“That’s a fine story, Mr. Peck,” Hudson said, disdain riddling his words. “But it’s the word of the town drunk against mine.”

Fourteen years before, all that had been needed was Hudson Talmadge’s word. His word had been enough to send Gabe to prison for ten years. But looking around her at the faces of those in this room, Akira knew Hudson’s word was no longer enough.

“It ain’t just my word,” Danny insisted. “You don’t believe me, sheriff, take a look at that little book he’s got in his coat pocket. I can tell you what some of those entries is about ’cause I heard Carruthers readin’ from it. Talmadge took it before he told him he was fired.”

Hudson rose from the chair and strode toward the door. “I’ve listened to all of this I can stand. I’m leaving.” But instead of parting before him, the onlookers tightened their ranks, impeding his departure.

“I don’t think you’re going anywhere, Mr. Talmadge,” Andy said.

Hudson whirled about. “You have no right to keep me here. If what that little weasel says is true, then I acted in self defense. And if he’s lying, then I’m still the victim of an attempted murder.” He glared at Gabe. “And you,” he said with loathing, “I let you wear my name, even though you’re no son of mine, and look how you’ve
repaid me. I should have strangled you the night you were born. You came back to Ransom to get your hands on my money, but you’ll get nothing.” His voice rose to a crescendo. “You’ll get nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing!”

The sheriff’s office was quiet now, all of Gabe’s supporters returned to their homes except Akira and Brodie.

“I won’t be long,” Gabe told his wife as he touched her cheek with his fingertips. Then he turned and walked toward the back of the building, toward the cell that held his father.

At the sound of his footsteps, Hudson glanced up. Hatred twisted his expression into a grotesque mask.

Gabe prayed for wisdom.

“Get out,” his father growled. “Do your gloating elsewhere. They won’t be able to keep me in here for long. My attorneys will see to that.”

“I didn’t come to gloat.” He stopped about a foot away from the bars.

“Then why did you come?”

It was a fair question, Gabe thought. If only he had an answer.

“You know the money is gone, and what there is the attorneys will take. You’ll inherit nothing from me. You won’t get a cent.” Hudson’s eyes blazed with an almost gleeful lunacy. “Not a red cent.”

“Listen to me a moment, Father.”

“Don’t call me that. I didn’t sire you. You’re not mine.”

Gabe stepped up to the bars, gripping them with both hands, staring hard into the other man’s eyes. “Listen to me and try to understand something. It doesn’t matter if you believe I’m your son or not. It doesn’t matter if I inherit anything from you or not. In
fact, the
last
thing I wanted was your money.” He leaned forward. “My inheritance is in heaven, and it’s far better than all the riches you ever had or might have again.”

Hudson growled something unintelligible.

“That’s why I came back to Ransom, though I didn’t know it at the time. I was returning to Jesus, not to this town and not to you. Oh, I wanted your love and approval. I’ve wanted it since I was a boy. But God chose me for another purpose. He chose me to receive
His
riches. I’m His rightful heir, no matter what the circumstances of my birth. I’m an heir to the King.” He paused, impacted by the truth of his own words. Softly, he added, “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“You’re as crazy as your mother. There is no God.”

“I feel sorry for you.”

Hudson glared at him.

“I feel sorry for you, because if there is no God, then this life, the best you’ve ever had, is as good as it gets. And no matter how rich you are, what good will your wealth do when you’re dead and buried?”

A look of dread crossed his father’s face. For an instant, Hudson seemed to hear what Gabe was saying. Then the moment passed.

“Go away.” Hudson turned his back. “Go away and take your God with you.”

Gabe was surprised by the lump in his throat. He hadn’t known it was possible he might still hurt for his father.

“All right. I’ll go. But like it or not, God will be here, giving you another chance.”

He waited a short while, hoping for the man who had no hope, but Hudson didn’t move.

“Goodbye, Father,” Gabe said at last. “I’ll keep praying for you. Remember that when things are at their darkest. Remember that I’ll be praying for you.”

EPILOGUE

M
AY
1935

MacRae Gabriel Talmadge entered the world just before dawn three weeks after the Basque sheepshearers had completed their annual visit to Dundreggan.

Ahead of schedule and in a hurry—as would prove true for much of his life—MacRae Talmadge gave little warning of his imminent arrival. So it was that Gabe delivered his son and held him as he drew his first breath. A moment later, the room was filled with the lusty wail of new life.

Gabe grinned, then whispered, “Hello, Mac. Welcome to the world.”

“Is the baby all right?” Akira asked.

“He’s perfect.” He moved to the side of the bed. “Listen to him.”

She held out her arms, and Gabe placed the baby in them, watching as she drew the child to her breast.

“MacRae,” he said, “meaning a son of grace.”

Akira smiled, her misty-eyed gaze caressing their firstborn son. “Gabriel, meaning a strong man of God. Like his father before him.”

He leaned forward and kissed Akira’s forehead. “I love you,” he whispered. Then he kissed the top of the baby’s head. “And you, my son.”

As he straightened, joy unspeakable filled his heart. There were no words to describe what he felt. That this small life was blood of his blood. That he was responsible for raising him up in the way he should go.

But what if he wasn’t a good father? What if he failed his son? What if he —?

Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee.

Gabe didn’t know what lay ahead, what the future held. Not for his son. Not for his wife. Not for himself. So many things could go wrong. So many ills could befall them.

Before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee.

Once Gabe had tried to run, tried to hide, from the Savior he’d rejected. Once he’d been pursued by darkness, hopelessness, and fear. But he hadn’t been able to run far enough, climb high enough, or sink low enough to escape the love of Christ. He’d learned, as well as any man who’d lived, the abounding grace of God.

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

An expected end.

Comfort warmed him.

The end won’t be a surprise to our Father. It’s expected.

And with that knowledge planted in his heart, Gabriel—a strong man of God, an heir to the King—faced the future unafraid.