Chapter 23
Chapter
James hoofed it over to the livery to claim his horse, then rode out to the Templeton place at a fast canter. His prayers bounced back and forth between petitioning the Lord to heal Luella and pleading for protection for the girl’s mother.
His jaw clenched as he leaned forward in the saddle. Husbands had a sacred duty to protect their families. Any man who not only neglected that duty but used his physical strength as a weapon against those in his care was eligible for the millstone treatment as far as James was concerned.
Images of Luella lying broken on the schoolroom floor haunted him as he urged his mount to a greater pace. A child. A brave, loving child who wanted to save her father from his own destructive impulses. She didn’t deserve this. No child did.
His heart throbbed in his chest as he thought of Noreen. Was she back in that schoolroom reliving all the times her own father had struck her?
Protect her heart, Lord.
He knew she blamed herself, and she might soon blame him if he couldn’t find legal cause to arrest the skunk responsible for Luella’s injuries.
The thought of disappointing her flayed him like a barbed-wire whip.
Too many people had let her down in her lifetime, and heaven help him, he didn’t want to be added to that list. She deserved a champion.
Someone who always had her back. That’s who he wanted to be.
Her partner. Her defender. Her . . . man.
His jaw clenched again as the realization that had been sneaking up on him for the last few days broke into the clearing of his mind.
He was in love with her. In love with a woman who would complicate and disorder his life to no end.
In love with a woman who might never trust a man enough to let him into her heart.
James blew out a breath and adjusted his position in the saddle.
Now wasn’t the time for soft feelings or romantic contemplations.
Noreen was counting on him to protect the women of this community.
His gut twisted as he recalled the helpless anger that had flared in her eyes as she’d questioned him about how he planned to handle Claude.
How many times had the law failed to protect her and her mother?
Too many. Even one time would be too many.
Don’t let me fail this family, he prayed. Help me be your arm of justice today.
As he neared the Templeton homestead, he slowed his mount to a walk and drew his revolver.
Wives rarely pressed charges against their husbands in cases like this, which meant his best chance of putting Claude behind bars entailed catching him in the act.
Announcing his arrival would sabotage that endgame.
So he reined in his mount near the edge of the barn, slid silently from the saddle, and hunkered below window height as he hurried toward the back of the house.
Once he reached the kitchen door, he fit his hand to the knob and eased it open a crack. He strained his ears, listening for any clues about what might be happening inside and where his suspect might be. No shouts or crashes echoed through the home. His gut knotted. Quiet didn’t bode well.
The hinges creaked as he opened the door far enough to squeeze inside. The homestead wasn’t large. Single story. Probably three bedrooms. If he remembered correctly, Luella was the youngest of four kids. The others had married and moved away one by one over the last several years.
Slinking forward on the balls of his feet to keep his heels from clicking on the floorboards, James made his way down the hall, checking each room he passed.
An office stood to his right, but a quick duck of his head through the doorway proved it empty.
He reached the front room next, and his mouth went dry.
Overturned chairs, a broken lamp, a reddish stain in the middle of the rug.
An image of Luella lying atop that rug, clutching her side, blood running from a cut on her head rose in his mind, making his chest ache.
“I told you to get out!”
James pivoted. The flash of some kind of dark cudgel snagged in his periphery. He raised an arm to block what ended up being a cast-iron skillet swinging at his skull.
The skillet swinger gasped, the sound immediately followed by the clatter of the weapon falling to the floor. “Deputy Paxton!” The horrified voice of Trudy Templeton filled the hall. “I’m so sorry. I-I thought you were . . .”
“Your husband?” James holstered his weapon, then rubbed at the dent in his forearm where the skillet had connected. He wiggled his fingers for good measure. Nothing seemed to be broken, but he’d likely sprout a prize-winning goose egg by tomorrow.
Mrs. Templeton pressed her lips together, shame darkening her cheeks. Cheeks that were already starting to bruise.
He tipped his chin toward her face. “Did Claude hit you, ma’am?”
She said nothing.
James worked his jaw. He wanted to help. To protect these women. But if they closed ranks on him, his hands would be tied.
“Did he thrash your daughter?”
Trudy’s eyes lifted to meet his, desperation screaming from their blue depths. “Have you seen my Luella? Is she . . . ?” Gathering tears added a sheen to her eyes that tugged on James’s heart.
“She’s alive, ma’am. Dr. Perry was tending her when I left the schoolhouse.”
“Thank God.” The woman seemed to crater in front of him. James took hold of her arm and guided her to the sofa.
As much as he wanted to sit beside her and offer comfort and compassion, he had a job to do. “Where’s your husband, Mrs. Templeton?”
“Gone.”
“Where?”
Her hands shook as she smoothed the fabric of her skirt over her knees. “Don’t know. Don’t want to know.”
Keeping his voice gentle, James sought her face. “He’ll be back, Trudy.”
She nodded. “I know. But Lu and I won’t be here.
I’m takin’ her to my son’s home in Abilene.
Soon as she’s well enough to make the trip.
We can stay with Miss Lockwood until then.
She came to see me after the parade. Said if Luella or I ever needed a place to stay for a night or two, she kept a guest room ready.
” Trudy rose from the sofa and turned pleading eyes on James.
“My husband’s not a bad man, Deputy. He loves us.
He just . . . forgets himself when he drinks. ”
A circumstance that happened far too frequently of late.
“He could have killed your daughter today. Had he assaulted anyone else to that extreme, he’d already be behind bars. You need to help me protect her. Protect you.”
Trudy’s mouth pinched. “By shaming my husband in public? That’s what brought this on in the first place. Luella spoke out against him in front of his friends. She never should have done that. Had the child minded her own business, none of this would have happened.”
James’s gut hardened. “What happened to Luella is not her fault. Not any more than the bruises on your face are yours. The blame belongs to your husband, and him alone.”
The man sickened James, taking out his anger and self-loathing on women and children.
Making them feel as if they were the ones to blame for his despicable actions.
Endangering the lives of the precious souls God had placed in his care.
The man deserved to be behind bars, preferably after accumulating a few bruises of his own.
Though as much as James itched to mete out some frontier justice, he’d not dishonor his God by forfeiting his honor.
Vengeance belonged to the Lord, not to man.
James would have to trust the Lord to repay Claude for his wrongs, especially if Trudy refused to press charges.
The woman raised her chin, a spark of defiance and an entire bonfire of pride radiating from her tear-filled eyes. “Thank you for coming to check on me, Deputy, but I need to ask you to leave. I’ve no crime to report and no time for pointless conversations. You can see yourself out.”
A sigh deflated his chest. Expecting her lack of cooperation didn’t make receiving it any less disappointing. Yet he’d not leave her out here unprotected should Claude return sooner than anticipated.
“Yes, ma’am.” He dipped his chin in deference. “I’ll hitch up your wagon and have the team ready to go by the time you finish packing. Then I’ll follow you into town.”
She gave a disdainful sniff. “Suit yourself.”
James smiled. He’d take that as a thank-you.
Trudy didn’t dally. By the time James tacked up the team, hitched them to the wagon, and drove to the front of the house, a large leather suitcase and a bulging carpetbag sat waiting for him on the porch.
He tossed them into the wagon bed, then found Trudy locking the front door with a third bag tucked under her arm.
James hurried up the steps. “I’ll get that for you, ma’am.”
She offered no protest as he relieved her of her physical burden. He wished he could relieve her of her emotional burden as well. The woman looked haggard and defeated as she turned her back on her home.
After storing the last of her luggage, James offered Mrs. Templeton a hand up as she climbed into the driver’s seat. She collected the reins, her eyes focused straight ahead. James started to move away, then halted when she finally spoke.
“Would you . . .” She swallowed, probably to rid her throat of the pride obstructing her plea. “Would you arrange for the wagon and team to be returned?”
“I’ll take care of it personally.” It would give him a reason to plant himself in Claude’s house and wait for him to come crawling back.
She nodded, her gaze meeting his for the first time since she’d asked him to leave. “Thank you, Deputy.”
He nodded, wishing he could do more.
Noreen sat on a hard, ladder-back chair in Dr. Perry’s clinic, next to the cot where Luella rested.
The doctor had wrapped the girl’s ribs, Martha said she hadn’t found any open wounds.
Maybe she couldn’t see the gash because of how Luella was lying on the floor?
where she’d hit a table on the way to the floor, and treated her smaller cuts and scrapes with iodine.
Now he was in his workroom, preparing plaster of paris bandages to serve as a cast for Luella’s recently set arm while Martha gently applied a cool compress to the swelling around Luella’s eyes.
This never should have happened. It wouldn’t have happened if Claude Templeton had been in his right mind. She swore she could hear the demons cackling over their victory. Another child forced to pay the price for an intemperate man’s weakness.
The sound of the clinic door opening drew Noreen’s attention to the hall.
“Luella? Are you here?”
“Mama?” Luella batted away the compress with her uninjured arm and tried to sit up, but Martha pressed her back against the pillows propping her up in bed.
“Stay still, Lu. She’ll come to you.”
Noreen made sure of it, jumping to her feet and hurrying out to the waiting area to fetch Trudy Templeton. “In here.” She ushered Trudy down the hall to the small room where Luella waited.
The moment Trudy saw Luella, a sob broke from her chest. “Oh, my baby!” She ran forward and fell into the chair Noreen had vacated.
“Mama?” Tears clogged Luella’s voice, too. “Are you all right?” Luella turned her head, searching her mother’s face through her painfully swollen eyes.
Trudy wiped her eyes ruthlessly, then gripped her daughter’s hand. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me.”
The woman was definitely in better shape than her daughter, but Noreen saw evidence of reddened bruising developing along her jaw and under her right eye. Her own jaw clenched in response.
Luella lowered her voice, but it still carried through the quiet room. “Did Deputy Paxton arrest Papa?”
Trudy shook her head, and the dam holding back Noreen’s anger cracked.
“No, I’d already sent him away. We’ll stay with Miss Lockwood for a day or two until you feel up to a train ride, then we’ll go visit your brother for a few weeks. How does that sound?”
It sounded like Trudy was finally taking steps to protect her daughter, praise the Lord. Claude still needed to answer for his crime, though. To be held accountable for the pain he’d caused. To face the truth of the damage his drinking had wrought. Otherwise, nothing would change.
“But who will take care of Papa?” Luella asked. “You know how he forgets to eat when he gets to drinking.”
“He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. And if we’re lucky, maybe he’ll remember there are other people he should be taking care of, too.”
Oh, how Noreen prayed that would happen. Luella deserved a father who loved her and took care of her. But as long as he poisoned himself with liquor, Claude Templeton would never be anything more than a selfish, abusive thug.
“I don’t want to leave him, Mama.” Luella’s tone turned pleading. “He needs us.”
No! Noreen fisted her hands with such force, her nails dug painfully into her palms. Luella couldn’t put herself back in that man’s path. The next time he came after her, she might not survive.
Martha leaned down and stroked Luella’s hair. “He needs your prayers, Lu. That’s what will help him the most.”
“What he needs,” Noreen said between clenched teeth, “is to be cut off from the poison that’s rotting his soul.”
Spotting a broom standing in the corner, Noreen snatched it up and marched out of the clinic, not hesitating for even a heartbeat when Martha called out for her to stop.
There’d be no stopping this time. This was war, and there were about to be some casualties.