Beyond This Moment Page 38

  Brookston nodded. "As long as you're not squeamish:"

  Josiah ushered Belle and Elijah inside, then closed the door behind them. "How's the boy farina sir?"

  Brookston tied off the last suture. "His right arm is fractured. He's got multiple cuts and contusions. I'm watching for signs of internal injuries too:" He grimaced. "His body couldn't have taken much more of a beating, and I'd feel worlds better if he would wake up. Even for a minute:" He glanced at Josiah and his expression softened. "Seems I remember someone else bein' on my table much in this same shape, and he pulled through. That gives me hope:'

  Josiah's smile was brief but telling, and a near tangible anxiety crept into the room. Belle slipped an arm around her husband's waist, her eyes filling with tears. But Belle's emotion didn't seem due so much to Brookston's comment as it did with the look of fear on her son's face.

  "Doc.. " Josiah dipped his head. "Dr. Whitcomb, ma'am ... we was thinkin' that maybe the sheriff would be here."

  Molly shook her head. "He hasn't stopped by yet, but I'm sure he will. When he's through meeting with ... those men:"

  Elijah slowly approached the table and touched Angelo's arm. "Is there anything I can do for him?"

  Something in Elijah's tone made Molly give him a closer look. His lower lip was trembling. Josiah came behind his son and laid a hand on his shoulder, and Elijah's countenance slipped. His slender shoulders began to shake.

  Molly looked from Elijah to Angelo and back, and found Elijah's green eyes swimming with tears.

  "I'm sorry, Dr. Whitcomb," he said, hiccupping a breath. "This is my fault, ma'am."

  She frowned, not understanding. "Your fault? No, Elijah. How could this be your fault?"

  Belle cleared her throat and it sounded overloud in the silence. "Elijah helped Angelo butcher the cow."

  Elijah bowed his head, his breath coming harder.

  Molly stared, fighting the conclusion forming in her mind. But deep inside, she knew. If Elijah was involved, then Billy Bolden had been involved too. The three boys were so close. And she was to blame for that. Oh, God, help me.... If she hadn't introduced them, then maybe-

  "It was wrong. I know it;' Elijah said beneath his breath. "But he and his family were so hungry."

  Josiah laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "We aim to tell the sheriff everything. And my son and I will work to pay for that cow. Longer still for the wrong that was done to Mr. Rudger."

  But Molly wasn't sure it would be that simple a fix. James had told her that the miners responsible for stealing the cattle before would stand trial in Denver, then would be sentenced to jail. But these were only boys! Surely there would be a distinction made, since they were so young.

  Elijah sucked in a breath, and Molly looked back to see Angelo blink. Once. Twice.

  James stared at Billy across his desk in his office, awaiting the boy's answer, and already knowing what it would be. The clock on the opposite wall indicated shortly after midnight.

  He'd met separately with Davenport, Rudger, and Rudger's three ranch hands. And they'd each given him the same information, almost verbatim-as if they'd rehearsed it. He hadn't met with Angelo yet. He wasn't even sure the boy was going to pull through, based on what he'd seen. But if he did survive the beating-and if the men's accusations were on the mark-Angelo would face charges for cattle rustling and would stand trial in Denver. And being an immigrant, things wouldn't go well for him.

  But James's hunch told him something else was at play. He reached for patience beyond his own and prayed for the boy sitting before him. "I'll ask you again, Billy. Do you know anything about what happened with Angelo tonight? Or about the cattle being stolen from Mr. Rudger's ranch?"

  Hank Bolden heaved a sigh and stood. "I've already told you, Sheriff, my son doesn't even know the kid, much less hang around with such-"

  James raised a hand. "Consider this your last warning, Bolden. Next time, you're gone."

  Red in the face, Hank Bolden sat back down. Ida reached out to touch her husband's arm, but Bolden shoved her hand away. She bowed her head, knotting her hands in her lap.

  Billy sniffed and slowly raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot. His lips moved, but nothing came out at first. With force, he cleared his throat and began. "I-it was o-only one cow, Sheriff. We-" His voice broke. "We didn't think th-they'd miss it."

  Ida began to cry. Hank leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and cursed his only son. The words were like bullets, and Billy shuddered, wincing.

  James fought the urge to round his desk and take the boy and hug him tight like his grandfather used to do with him. Either that or thrash Hank Bolden. The man didn't deserve a son like Billy. "I appreciate you telling me the truth, Billy. That took courage, son. A lot of courage."

  Billy shook his head. "It was me who should've gotten that beating tonight, Sheriff. I stole that cow. Not Angelo. I got so scared when I saw what they'd done to him." He wiped his eyes. "But when I saw how hungry those people are out-"

  "That's enough, Billy!" Hank Bolden came to his feet again. "Don't say anything more 'til I talk to your uncle."

  James didn't want to make things worse for Billy, or to scare the boy. But he also didn't want Davenport getting to him and confusing the truth, and that's just what would happen if Hank Bolden got his brother-inlaw involved. "Hank, Ida ... I need to take Billy into custody, until we get this worked out:"

  Ida gasped and glanced at the hallway leading to the jail cells. "You can't put him in there, Sheriff. Please! He's only a boy!"

  "He's the same age as his friend, Angelo Giordano;' James said quietly, watching Hank.

  Hank grimaced. "That's different, McPherson. Those immigrants are-

  "It's not different, Pa'

  Billy's voice came out small but had a strength to it that James felt deep inside him. And, if he wasn't mistaken, Hank had sensed that strength too.

  "Angelo's my friend, Pa. And he's not anything like you said he was. None of his people are. They work hard for what they-"

  "I said, that's enough, boy!" The muscles in Hank's jaw corded tight. He stared at his son, then at James. "What if.. " He briefly looked away. "What if I say you can't put him in there?" he asked more softly.

  James rose, hearing the real question behind Hank Bolden's threat. "He'll be all right, Bolden:" He motioned for Billy to stand and rested a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'll put him in a cell by himself, and Willis or I will be with him the entire time. You're both welcome to stay and sit with him until morning, if you'd like:"

  Hank and Ida both nodded, which also served to answer another of his questions-whether Hank was involved with his brother-in-law and Leonard Rudger. His guess was no. Otherwise, Hank would've left as quickly as possible to tell Davenport what had happened.

  After Willis arrived, James made his way across the darkened town to the doc's clinic, praying the news on Angelo Giordano would be good. He couldn't help but admire Billy Bolden for standing up to his father. But what Billy and Angelo had done was wrong, and-if his earlier hunch was right-this night was far from over.

  Because he still had one more confession he needed to hear.

  40

  ames checked his pocket watch. Nearly eight o'clock. Leonard Rudger and Mayor Davenport were scheduled to arrive any minute, if they kept their word.

  Feeling the effects of a sleepless night, he peered through his office window to the mountains reigning lofty above the town. The sun had risen over Timber Ridge this morning with a brilliance he couldn't recall, reflecting off the snowy peaks with a sheen so bright it almost hurt his eyes.

  Boot steps sounded on the boardwalk, and he straightened. The door that led to the jail cells down the hallway stood open, as he'd left it.

  The front door opened with a creak, and Rudger and Davenport walked inside.

  "Morning, gentlemen:" James met them and shook hands.

  Davenport seemed well rested and almost chipper. Rudger wore his customary confidence like a cloak, more subdue
d by nature. James settled into his desk chair and motioned for them to sit.

  Davenport eased his weight down. "Sheriff, I hope you won't waste our time this morning by trying to convince Rudger here not to press charges against that immigrant boy. Personally, I appreciate the work he and his men did in tracking down the culprit who stole the cattle" He smiled. "Since you seem to be preoccupied with other pursuits these days."

  James eyed the men. "In case you're interested, gentlemen, it looks like that immigrant boy, as you phrased it, Mayor, is going to pull through, thanks to Dr. Brookston."

  Rudger shifted in his chair but said nothing. Davenport's silent stare was answer enough.

  James leaned forward. "So I take it, Rudger, that you still want to press charges against Angelo Giordano for cattle theft?"

  "Absolutely, I do, Sheriff. The boy's a thief. He confessed to the crime, and I found evidence in his-"

  James motioned, nodding. "I confirmed the evidence, so there's no question about that. I also saw evidence of `the search' you and your men conducted:'

  Rudger's jaw hardened. "Those folks wouldn't cooperate, Sheriff."

  "So you had to ransack their homes and have your men destroy what little shelter they had?"

  Seething, Rudger looked away.

  James pulled a piece of paper from a file on his desk, deciding to let Rudger stew on that for a minute. "I've prepared this document based on the testimony you gave last night. I just need for you to sign here, and here"-James indicated the locations on the page-"and the sheriffs office will proceed with the arrests:"

  Davenport looked up. "Arrests?"

  James dipped the quill and handed it to Rudger. `Angelo Giordano didn't act on his own. He had two accomplices:'

  Rudger eyed him. "And they are?"

  "Elijah Birch;' James said quietly.

  Davenport huffed an offensive word beneath his breath. "Not hard to see that one coming, now, was it? Who's the other?"

  James looked beyond the men to where Billy Bolden stood behind them in the doorway.

  "It was me, Uncle David:"

  Davenport's face went slack before draining of color. He turned and looked behind him.

  Billy now stood with his parents, along with the Birch family, and Molly and Willis.

  "I stole the cow;' Billy whispered, his red-rimmed eyes filling again. "Not Angelo ... not Elijah:" He twisted the hem of his untucked shirt. "It was my idea. They only helped once I got the cow clear of the gate. Those families out there . . " He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "They're so hungry, and I just couldn't-" His voice caught. He winced. "What I did was wrong, Mr. Rudger. I know that. I just didn't think you'd miss one cow."

  The silence lengthened, and James leaned forward in his chair. "I've spoken with each of the boys, and their parents, during the night. Including Mrs. Giordano, with the help of Dr. Whitcomb, who translated. The boys realize that what they did was wrong. They're sorry, and they want to make restitution. Either that, or ... He waited until Rudger and Davenport looked back. "You can proceed with your plan to prosecute. But you need to know that if you do, Billy Bolden will carry the bulk of the blame. He'll be charged with cattle theft, and he'll be transferred to the jail in Denver to stand trial:"

  Ida Bolden clamped her hand to her mouth but couldn't silence the whimper.

  "Angelo and Elijah;' James continued, "will face lesser charges, which I'll deal with here:"

  Rudger stared at the quill in his hand.

  Davenport's reaction was more revealing. If the man could have thought of a way around this-to charge Angelo and Elijah, but not Billy-he would have. But there was no way around it.

  "Sheriff, if that Italian boy didn't steal my cow"-Rudger's voice held considerably less confidence-"then why did he let me and my men believe that he did?"

  "Because Angelo was protecting his friend, Rudger" James pulled another sheet of paper from the file. "Which leads us to another matter." Rudger's gaze sharpened as James slid the page toward him. "That of you and your ranch hands beating an innocent boy ... nearly to death:"

  Rudger pointed a finger. "He should have said something if he wasn't guilty!"

  "Would you have listened to him if he had?" James shook his head. "We have laws, Rudger, not only to punish the guilty, but to protect the innocent. And you had no right to take that law into your own hands:" He included Davenport in his stare.

  "See here now, Sheriff . . " Davenport tugged at the collar of his starched white shirt. "I'll not sit here and allow you to place all the blame on Leonard Rudger for-"

  "I'm not placing all the blame with Rudger. I'm placing it square on your shoulders too, Mayor. I believe you had a part in this, and that you attempted to use this as an opportunity to advance your own ideas and plans for this town."

  Davenport's glare darkened. "You have no proof of that:"

  "Not yet. But I will ... after speaking with Rudger's ranch hand" James said nothing. He just stared, hoping his poker face was convincing. Watching the mayor turn three shades of crimson told him it was.

  Rudger ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I don't know what you're getting at, Sheriff McPherson, but-" His laugh held no humor. "I'm not the guilty party here. And I'm not spending time in jail for something I didn't do:"

  "And my aim isn't to put you there, Rudger." James sighed. "My aim is to find a way through this that, first, upholds the law. And, second, that will bring the most good from the bad that's happened:" He gestured to the quill still in Rudger's hand. "You can sign that piece of paper and I'll arrest these boys-and you. Or.. " He prayed again for God's guidance, as he had the better part of the night. "We can work out some alternative, for both sides:"

  Rudger slowly returned the quill to its holder. "What do you mean by alternative?"

  "The boys have offered to work for you, Rudger, on your ranch, to pay for the cow, and even beyond that, for the wrong they did:"

  Rudger considered that. "You said both sides. What's my part?"

  "Seems to me your restitution needs to be directed to Angelo Giordano and his family. You've been out there to Little Italy. You've seen how those families live. No houses to speak of, no warm shelter. Especially not now."

  Rudger laughed. "Are you suggesting I go in and build them homes? All by myself?"

  "No," James said quietly, knowing Rudger had enough money to do that ten times over, without feeling the loss. "Not all by yourself. If I were you, I'd look around and see if any of my ... associates might have a vested interest in this opportunity, someone who might've encouraged you to do this. Someone who needs to share that burden with you:"

  Rudger looked pointedly at Davenport, who looked away, and James saw Molly smile.

  Rudger stood, his expression resigned. His chair legs scraped against the wooden floor. "I'll have one of my men contact you about getting that started. And I'll be expecting those three boys at my ranch, Sheriff. They'll work off the cost of that cow, and then they'll help construct the new barn were building this spring:"

  Josiah Birch stepped forward, his large hand resting on his son's shoulder. "I be there too, Mr. Rudger, sir. To help pay my son's debt:'

  Strangling the hat in his hands, Hank Bolden's struggle could not have been more evident. `And I'll come with Billy. We'll work until the barn is finished:'

  Billy looked up at his father, a wealth of meaning in his youthful face, and an unexpected swell of pride filled James's chest at what passed between the father and son.

  He rose from his desk. "I'll accompany Angelo too, once the boy's able to work again:" His offer wasn't even close to selfless. He wanted to make sure Angelo was treated right and that Rudger didn't try to overwork the boy, frail as Angelo was, and would be for a while.

  Rudger gave a nod and took his leave. The Boldens and Birches followed, until only Davenport was left, with Willis and Molly standing off to the side. The pride in Molly's eyes touched a place inside James that he was fairly certain had never been disturbed, and he
welcomed it. And her, liking how she looked at him now.

  He had a question he was burning to ask her, and would-come Christmas. But there was something he needed to tell her first, before she could give her fair answer. He'd planned on telling her last night on a sleigh ride. Dark of night had appealed to him somehow. But maybe light of day was better, once she'd had some rest.

  Davenport walked to the door, absent his normal measure of bravado. "Well, Sheriff, it seems you've had a busy night. I only wonder what our new governor in Denver would say if he knew of your decision today. You didn't exactly uphold the letter of the law, now did you?"

  James heard the thinly veiled threat and knew what the mayor said was partially true. The governor would have wanted Billy to stand trial in Denver. But James knew the heart of that boy-Davenport's own nephew-and in his gut, he knew his decision had been the right one, despite it not fulfilling the "letter of the law." It had fulfilled the spirit of the law. Justice had ruled today, and it would rule again in Little Italy. James would make sure of it.

  He shifted his weight and managed a shrug. "Next time you're there, Mayor, why don't you ask him what he thinks?"

  Davenport pandered a grin, opening the door. "I might just do that:'

  "And be sure and let him know about what happened in Little Italy." James watched as Davenport's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure the governor's wife ... Francesca, will be interested in hearing about that:"

  Molly followed Mary Willis from the sheriffs office, admiring the baby in the woman's arms. "Callie's beautiful, Mary. She's just beautiful:'

  Mary kissed her daughter's forehead, love evident in her eyes. "Dean and I still can't believe she's ours." Her eyes brightened. "Would you like to hold her?"

  "Oh.. " Molly's heart skipped a tender beat. "You wouldn't mind?"

  "Mind?" Mary made a face as though the question were silly. "Here ..."

  Molly cradled the sleeping little girl in her arms, breathing in her sweet scent. "She's perfect;' she whispered, not wanting to awaken her. She firmed her lips to stem the tears. It had been a long night, and promised to be an even longer day. But with the sun shining down as it was, it could have been an early day in spring instead of mid-December in the Rockies.