Chapter 26
Chapter
“You’ve never heard such a ruckus!” Martha rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion as Jane giggled quietly.
They’d arranged their three chairs into a tight circle around the provided table and shared a meal, though none of them had much of an appetite.
Noreen managed a smile, however, as she imagined a parade of pets running through Martha’s schoolyard. “Did one of the children truly bring a chicken?”
“We had an entire menagerie.” Martha spread her arms wide, then started ticking animals off on her fingers.
“A squawking chicken fluttering about and pecking at everyone’s feet.
Two different bullfrogs, croaking and hopping and scaring the girls.
Five dogs of various breeds and obedience levels, three cats who ran off as soon as the dogs arrived, four lizards, and one gopher snake. ”
“A snake?” Jane shivered and pulled her feet away from the floor as her gaze darted to the corners of the cell.
“Yes, and of course the repulsive reptile escaped and slithered under the schoolhouse, making me jump at my own shadow for the next week.”
A door closed downstairs, and all three ladies jolted, which then caused them to dissolve in laughter.
Knowing what that sound meant, Noreen reached out and clasped the hands of both of her friends and squeezed them tightly. “Thank you both for coming here. I . . .” Emotion clogged her throat. “I would still be floundering in self-pity were it not for you.”
Martha gave a sharp nod, in that commanding way of hers that kept even the most rambunctious child in his seat.
“Never underestimate the restorative power of clean clothes, warm food, and cheerful company. All you need now is a good night’s rest, and you’ll be back to your fearless self on the morrow, ready to face whatever challenge awaits. ”
“And we’ll be right by your side,” Jane vowed. “Praying for you every step of the way.”
“Thank you.” Tears began to pool again, but Noreen blinked them away. She’d wept enough today. Time to be strong. To be the woman her friends believed her to be. Fearless. Defiant. A crusader for the cause of temperance. One who’d not let a stay in a jail cell temper her passion.
Yet when James clomped up the stairs and fit his key into the lock, a breathless panic seized Noreen’s lungs. She didn’t want to be alone.
Her heart pounded as Martha and Jane pulled their hands from hers, rose to their feet, and collected their belongings.
Noreen stood with them, her limbs quivering.
Determined to hide her weakness, she made sure not to cling as each of them wrapped her in a brief farewell embrace.
But when the door clicked closed and they disappeared down the stairs, it was all she could do not to rattle the bars and call them back.
Even James left, escorting them out as a gentleman should.
She’d felt his gaze seeking hers, but she’d avoided eye contact, her heart too conflicted to risk letting him inside.
Biting her lip, Noreen turned away from the barred door and began to move toward the chair she’d recently vacated, but seeing the other two empty chairs beside it made her chest ache.
She pivoted to the mattress that lay on the ground in the corner instead.
The mattress James had taken from his own bed for her to use.
She’d insisted that the cot would be fine, but he refused to be swayed.
Paid her protests absolutely no mind. Stubborn, wonderful man.
Maybe if she curled up on the tick and drew the blanket over her head, she could imagine he was holding her. That she wasn’t alone.
Encouraged slightly by her plan, she grabbed the back of her chair and dragged it closer to the mattress.
Then she sat down and started unlacing her shoes.
Jane had brought her a Bible and several novels to help pass the time, but Noreen doubted she’d be able to concentrate enough to absorb anything she tried to read.
Right now, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and pretend the last few hours hadn’t happened.
She had one shoe removed and the other halfway unlaced when the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs stilled her hands.
“Noreen?” James’s voice floated up from the stairwell. “Are you decent? I have something for you. From your mother.”
Mama? Her stomach fluttered.
Ignoring the tightness around her left foot, she yanked the shoe off and stood in her stockinged feet.
“Yes, I’m presentable.” Decent no longer seemed an apt descriptor after her escapade at the saloon.
She smoothed her skirt and lifted a hand to her hair as if she were about to meet a beau, then caught herself and clasped her hands together at her waist and waited for James to emerge.
When her eyes met his, a longing rose within her of such magnitude, she swayed slightly toward the barred door.
She hungered for his comfort. To feel his arms cradling her against his chest with a strength capable of shouldering all her burdens.
To hear the rumble of his voice defending her and promising that all would be well.
To bury her face in his neck, close her eyes, and let the rhythmic thumping of his heart calm the riot inside her mind.
Yet a wall stood between them. Not just the physical wall of steel bars but one of secrets and shame.
The compassion in his gaze only twisted her guilt into a tighter knot in her stomach.
He reached through the bars and extended his hand to her, palm up.
Unable to resist the lure of his touch, she fit her hand to his.
Physical warmth enveloped not only her hand but her heart as well.
Her grip tightened, and she barely resisted the temptation to draw his fingers to her lips and press a kiss to his knuckles.
“I stopped by your mother’s house after taking statements at the saloon.” James shifted his weight, his gaze seeking and finding hers. “I thought it might be better for her to hear the facts of what happened from me before someone ambushed her with a distorted account.”
As much as she hated the idea of him telling her mother about her disgraceful behavior, she recognized the kindness inherent in such an action.
Hiding the truth from her mother would be a futile effort.
Noreen’s storming of the Salt Fork was far too juicy a tidbit not to be cranked through the rumor mill.
“Thank you.”
His thumb caressed the back of her hand. “She wanted to come to you the moment she heard, but your stepfather wouldn’t allow it.”
Of course not. Arthur was nothing if not consistent in his disdain for her temperance work.
Her arrest had provided him the perfect justification for cutting her completely out of their lives, something he’d been trying to do for ages.
Noreen knew her mother would never outwardly defy her husband, but her capitulation still hurt.
Didn’t her daughter deserve some familial devotion, too?
“She penned you a note, though, and I promised to deliver it to you.” He reached into an interior coat pocket with his other hand and extended a folded sheet of paper through the bars.
“I’ll leave you to read it in private, but I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.
” He squeezed her hand. “I’m here for you, Noreen.
If you want to talk, I’ll listen. If you want to hit something, I’ll volunteer as a punching bag.
” His eyes twinkled. “My stomach’s much softer than the wall. ”
She wasn’t so sure that was accurate. Nothing about James Paxton was soft. Except his eyes when he looked at her. And his touch when he stroked her hand or caressed her hair.
Needing to keep herself from thinking too much about those soft spots, she quirked a small grin of her own. “Do you offer yourself as a punching bag to all your prisoners, Deputy?”
He winked. “Only the pretty ones.”
Heat suffused her cheeks, even as delight filled her heart. Yet the delight couldn’t withstand the growing weight of her circumstances.
This was no drawing room where a gentleman might flirt with his lady of choice. This was a jail cell. A place of punishment and confinement for lawbreakers. A purgatory for those awaiting judgment. Guilt clung to its walls, her own culpability thickening the very bars that separated her from James.
Slowly, Noreen tugged her hand free of his hold and stepped backward. “Thank you for delivering the note.”
He nodded, his eyes losing a bit of their light as he withdrew his hand and shoved it into his trouser pocket. “We’ll get through this, Noreen. Don’t lose hope.”
We.
How she longed that there could be a we with this marvelous man. But some gulfs were too wide to span.
Slowly, Noreen turned her back on him and walked toward her mattress. When the sound of his boot falls finally echoed in the stairwell, the tears she’d been holding back rolled down her cheeks.
Crumpling atop the mattress, she braced her back against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest in an effort to manufacture the comfort that eluded her. Perhaps her mother’s letter would help. Taking out her embroidered handkerchief, she dabbed her eyes and wiped her nose, then opened the note.
My precious girl,
Arthur will not permit me to visit you in jail, but please know that my heart is with you.
I will pray for you without ceasing until this nightmare is over.
I understand better than most the burning fire of impotent rage.
Watching those we care about suffer and being helpless to stop it is a torture like no other.
Yet we cannot give in to that rage, for all it produces is more hurt.
Forgiveness is the only thing that heals.
There’s a reason the Good Book teaches us to put away all bitterness, wrath, and anger and replace it with forgiveness and kindness, and it’s not just to help folks get along together.
It’s because bitterness, wrath, and anger poison the soul.
Trust me, I know. My soul’s been shriveled for more years than I care to admit.
It was only after I forgave your father that I started to heal.
Now I must forgive Arthur as well. It’s not easy, and there are definitely days when I want to shout and break things, just as you did at the Salt Fork, but following the Lord’s wisdom always pays better dividends than following our own, so I’ll keep practicing. I pray you will, too.
Forgive Mr. Taggert for running a saloon. Forgive Mr. Templeton for beating sweet Luella. Forgive your father for hurting you. And, Noreen, forgive yourself. Guilt belongs at the foot of the cross, not locked in the secret places of your heart.
With a gasp, Noreen flung the letter onto the mattress as if it had suddenly caught fire in her hand.
Mama knew? No, she couldn’t. Noreen had been so careful not to let anything slip.
All these years . . . Mama had never said anything.
If she had discovered the truth, wouldn’t she have said something to her . . . accused her . . . forgiven her?
The dam that had started crumbling in the saloon gave way completely. Noreen grabbed the pillow near her hip, held it to her face, and screamed into the feathers again and again until her screams morphed into sobs and left her utterly broken.