Closer To You (Tales of the Sweet Magnolia Book 1) (17 page)

Without thought, he stepped forward, plowing his fist into the pious face. Preacher fell back on the steps, landing roughly on his butt. Jake backed away, his fists raised in preparation… hoping he would get up and retaliate. He’d waited a long time for this. His hand hurt like hell, but it felt damn good to see that his father’s nose was bleeding and likely broken.
Explain that to your parishioners
.

But there was no retaliation, no response from his father other than taking his kerchief from his pocket and dabbing his nose. “I suppose I deserved that, as well.”

Exhausted mentally and physically, Jake sat on the bottom step, joined a moment later by Preacher. “You suppose right.” He nodded. “You don’t have any idea of what I’m going through.” Jake put his head in his hands.

“The truth is, I do know, son,” Preacher began. “There’s something I need to tell you. I swore to myself and your mother agreed—God rest her soul—that we would never say anything about it.”

Was this another lie? Another method of using guilt as persuasion?
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jake pushed the hair back from his face. God, he was weary and wounded and wanted nothing more than to lie in Lil’s arms and forget the world.

“I was in your place once, long ago. Young, passionate, about to begin preaching.” His father paused and dabbed his bleeding nose. “I was betrothed to your mother but wasn’t ready to settle down. I felt I was being forced into wedlock and so I found my way to the Magnolia where I met the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

Jake stared at him, unsure if the tale he was telling was true. It was not like his father to confess of any wrong doing, and that alone gave Jake reason to listen.

“She was a fine woman with an infectious laugh and an understanding heart. She seemed to have the freedom of spirit that I sought, and I admired her, maybe coveted that spirit…it….” He looked at the ground as though searching for the right words. “I lost myself to her—body and soul.” He grew quiet then spoke. “I’m not proud about it, mind you, but I tell you this so you’ll know that I understand your dilemma.”

Jake was wary of his father’s newfound sense of humility. “Go on,” he prompted sensing there was more to this story.

“I’d have given up everything for her. Quit my position as the new pastor, broken my engagement, anything she wanted. Then she told me she was with child.”

The floor of Jake’s stomach fell. A breeze blew across the sweat that had popped out on his brow. He wanted to tell him to stop, that his relationship with Lil was nothing like the story he was hearing, but his father plodded on.

“I wanted to believe that she was happy that it was mine, but the truth was she told me that she couldn’t keep it. I asked her to marry me and she laughed in her own sweet way and said it would never work—her life was at the Magnolia. She couldn’t raise a kid and would I want a child of mine raised in such a place? The truth was no, I didn’t. So we made an agreement that when the child was born, I would take him and raise him proper. We always wanted children, your mother and I. Always thought we’d have more of our own, but your mother, it turned out wasn’t able to bear children.” Preacher turned to Jake. “Your ma did a fine job raising you, Jake. She was a good woman. But I think that every time I saw you, it reminded me of time that I’m not proud of.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, yellowed with age. “I brought this tonight thinking to use it as blackmail if necessary to stop you from throwing your life away on some bordello Madam who will never change her stripes. She won’t love you forever, Jake. She isn’t capable of it. Here, go ahead and read this. Maybe by morning, you’ll see that your decision is not as difficult as you think. And like me, you’ll do what’s right, what’s proper.

Jake accepted the note, turning it over in his hand. The image of a woman who once was kind to him appeared in his mind. “Her name. What was my real mother’s name?”

Preacher sighed. “Her name was Ruby, at least that’s the name she had at the

Magnolia.”

Jesus.
Jake closed his eyes remembering the gentle concern of the buxom woman at the Magnolia. It made sense now why he saw her that day coming from the church. “She came to see you, didn’t she? After Ma died.”

Preacher nodded. “She told me you’d come there and that she’d tended to your wounds from my strapping.”

Jake stood, tucking the note in his pocket.

“Giving birth to a child, doesn’t make a woman a good mother, Jake,” his father offered as Jake walked away.

He needed time to think. “No more than a man’s seed makes him a good father,” Jake responded not looking back.

***

Lillian dropped the curtain. For hours she’d held it aside, peering into the dark, waiting for Jake to come riding up on his horse to gallantly take her away. She’d done the right thing in leaving on her own, but some part of her had hoped that despite the odds, she would get her happily ever after. She glanced at the floor where the beautiful green dress she’d worn still lay crumpled. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes when she pictured how he’d looked at her in it. Lil bent down and straightened out the gown, laying it carefully over the dressing screen. She’d return it to Angel tomorrow. Only Paddy was still downstairs when she’d come in and he nodded, wise not to ask about her evening as she rushed up the stairs. Nellie, had come out of her room as Lilly wrestled with her door handle, and the young woman assisted Lillian with unfastening the dress, but she’d quickly shooed her from the room before fresh tears began.

Lil was exhausted. Her mind swirled between images of her former life and now. Where did she belong? Why had she come to the past? She caught her reflection in the vanity mirror. With her hair pulled up in a soft halo around her head, she looked like a vintage postcard from the 1800’s, but her leopard bra and thong screamed that she didn’t belong there. She touched the gold shamrock at the base of her throat, more tears threatened to spill forth. She didn’t belong in Deadwater. The truth of it was so clear now. That’s why things hadn’t worked out between her and Jake. In the morning, she would have one of the girls take the necklace to town and ask for her red amulet back. Maybe she could sell it somewhere for enough money for a ticket back east. Somewhere she could start new, for however long she was to remain in this fantasy.

More tears rolled down her face, and Lil wiped them away with her robe sleeve. Carefully, she lifted the globe of the kerosene wall lamp and blew gently across its surface. She had to make the attempt twice before she could manage to control her tears well enough to blow out the flame.

Pitched into darkness, Lil fumbled her way to the bed and removed her robe. She’d worn the special leopard print underwear for him, knowing that he found it sexy, but she felt nothing close to that as she crawled sobbing under the covers. She pressed her face into the soft security of her pillow, breathing in the lingering scent of Jake’s skin. Her heart lay heavy inside her chest, wishing she could turn back time and wondering if she’d handled things differently if they would be together. Deep inside, she knew that had she conceded to their prejudice, she would have compromised her integrity. Ironically, life had brought her full circle back to the realization that regardless of what people saw on the outside, it was ultimately her own sense of self-worth that remained the most important.

As she lay on her side in the dark, Lil gazed bleary-eyed at the shadows of the curtains dancing in the pale moonlight. Exhausted from crying, weary from heartache, she drifted to sleep with the gold shamrock necklace and the scent of Jake next to her cheek.

Chapter Ten

The clatter of metal scraping metal woke Lil from a dead slumber. She sat up with a start, unable at first to catch her breath; her heart beat a rapid cadence against her chest. As her pulse began to slow, Lil blinked a few time, focusing on her surroundings. There were blinds on the window, electric lights on the walls. She frowned unsure of what fantastic dream she’d just woken from. It all seemed so real.

She noted the carved box lying beside her and picked it up, and finding it empty her hand flew instinctively to her throat. She breathed a sigh of relief.
It was a shamrock that I found in the box, wasn’t it?
Startled, she jumped when her three-legged cat, Wyatt, pounced up on the end of the bed. It was as though nothing had changed, that time had stopped. Deep down, Lil couldn’t shake the feeling that something monumental had happened, somehow, someway…she had changed.

Her mind blurred between reality and a foggy recollection of another time and place. One where she believed that she’d found more happiness than she could imagine. Yet, somehow, she was back in her apartment. Next to her lay the book she’d brought home from the library. She picked it up and flipped through its pages, noting the several murky vintage photos of the town of Deadwater, of the mayor and his wife, and the preacher in town. Something about him seemed familiar, but then again he wore the expression of many who back then only had their picture taken on special and solemn occasions.

One picture showed a young boy, perhaps nine or ten, standing next to his mother, perhaps the boy’s first communion or a special birthday, given how they were both dressed in fine clothes. One photo inside also graced the cover of the book,
Tales of the Sweet Magnolia
. A group of women stood on the covered porch of the old parlor house. Between shadows and age, the faces were impossible to see clearly, but Lil felt an odd kinship to them. She searched again for the author’s name, and saw that it was compiled and edited by Rosemond Clancy, the wife of then Deadwater’s mayor. The foreword was written by the Reverend Ezekiel Sloan. Lil turned the pages finding the foreword and read.

“We are taught lessons in life in many ways, by the wonder of miracles, the solemnity of death and sometimes by regret. My son, once the sheriff of this town taught me this in the way he accepted people where they were in life. He did not demand that they must first conform to his rules, but rather the rules that apply to each of us as human beings. After he left Deadwater, a regretful occurrence for which I must live each day in knowing I was partially responsible for, I came to terms with my Maker about my life. As a result, and as what I feel is suitable recompense for my sins, I implored the members of Church Women United for Good and specifically its president, Rosemond Clancy, to record the stories of the men and women who over the years have called the Sweet Magnolia their home.

I have come to realize that their struggle should not be forgotten for people like them are as much a part of the landscape that carved out the small boom towns and kept them thriving through perseverance, courage and the fostering and financial backing of new businesses, banks, and schools with their support. We owe them a great debt, particularly here in Deadwater. Were it not for their donations, a secret I have kept up to now, I would not have had a brand new church, and for that I owe my deepest gratitude to a woman named Ruby, who changed my life in more ways than she will ever know. And to Lillian White, Madam of the Sweet Magnolia in 1873, it is because of her that my heart was changed and my eyes opened to loving all of God’s children equally. And so this book is dedicated to the memory of the men and women who served at the Sweet Magnolia and the tales that helped to shape the western frontier.”~
Reverend Ezekial Sloan.

How strange that her name would be the same as Lil’s, though in truth, White is not an uncommon name. Still, Lil made note to check into her ancestry and see if there might be any family ties to the name.

The furry tri-pod feline, brushed her bare leg as though happy to see her. As though she’d been away for a long time, but that of course, was impossible— wasn’t it?

Lilly read on, seeing a note by the author Mrs. Clanc
y.

“Of the many tales recounted, perhaps none is sadder than the one of the disappearance of Miss Lillian White on the very night of the dinner given in honor of the sheriff. Whether she left on her own, or as was rumored, was taken by a desperate drifter who’d claimed to return for her, all efforts to find her were to no avail. An intense manhunt was led by Deadwater’s Sheriff Sloan and several volunteers, but after weeks of searching, it was concluded that she’d gone back East to seek her fortun
e.”

Lillian stared at the words, unable, perhaps unwilling, to grasp the incomprehensible.

Photographic snatches of images flashed rapidly in her mind, but were they conjured by the book, or had she had a fantastic dream where it all seemed so real? Her thoughts were scattered causing her head to hurt. She felt as though she hadn’t eaten in weeks. She scratched the cat’s chin and peered at him cautiously.

“Are you hungry, Wyatt?”

Saturday morning. Lil wondered how late she’d slept. The garbage man usually came around noon, with his cacophony of sounds. She scooted off the bed and grabbed her robe, stumbling to the door as if she’d been at sea for days. She needed a good cup of strong tea. Perhaps that would help to clear the fog in her brain. Funny, she had the strangest urge to lace it with whiskey and hunt down her old Billy Joel albums.

***

Late 1800’s

Jake leaned his chair back, bracing against the outside jailhouse wall. He’d had little sleep these past few weeks since Lil’s disappearance. The red garnet amulet he held swirled in his hand, catching the later afternoon sunlight.

“You okay, Sheriff?” Nate propped his shoulder on the open doorway of the jail.

Fortunately, things had been quiet in town. Lil’s sudden departure had served to create camaraderie of sorts that Jake hadn’t expected.

“We could round us up another search party. You say the word and I’ll start gathering the men. We could start first thing tomorrow morning….”

Jake shook his head. More than six teams had searched every inch of the county. If someone didn’t want her found, it would be far too easy a task to accomplish given all the caves and mine shafts. “No, Nate thanks. There’ll be snow in the mountains coming here real soon. I don’t want to put anyone else’s life at risk.”

Jake had wrestled with the torment that the gunman he’d let get away had returned to take his revenge, using Lil for that purpose. The very idea drove Jake to near insanity. He blinked back a fresh wave of tears and brought his chair down, the thump resounding on the old wood planks with defeat. He sat for a moment, staring across the street at the Deadwater Hotel. He’d had plans to take her there after the dinner that night….

“Is there anything else then that I can do for you?” Nate asked.

Jake shook his head. He had to find some peace with this, some way to move on. Problem was, his heart was shattered in a million pieces. He felt numb inside like someone had ripped out his soul.

One of the girls, Angel, from the Magnolia, stepped out of the mercantile next door. Jake caught sight of her from the corner of his eye and watched as she debated whether to come speak to him. He made it easy for her. “Evenin,” Miss Angel,” Jake stated with a polite tip of his hat.

Though there were still some in town that felt the societal rules with the parlor women should be strictly adhered to, Jake’s viewpoint had been severely changed. Finding out that his real birth mother had made a living at the Magnolia at least before she left town and knowing Lil…. Well, she’d all but turned his perceptions about most things upside down.

Angel gathered her skirt and walked toward him. “Deputy Nate,” she acknowledged. “How are you, Sheriff?” She regarded him with blue eyes filled with compassion. He was about at the breaking point with answering that question, but he took a deep breath and met Angel’s gaze. The young woman meant well.

“Well as can be expected, I reckon,” he answered. He bit back the urge to ask her if she had heard anything from Lil.

“You think she’s out there somewhere?” she asked quietly.

“Now, the sheriff’s not up for much conversation today, Miss Angel.”

Jake held up his hand halting the attempt to be helpful by his gentle reprimand. “It’s okay, Nate.” Jake looked up at Angel. “Thing is if she was dead,

I’d know it.”

She stared at him, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. “How could you know something like that?”

He stood, towering over the slender woman. She took a step back, studying his face, uncertainty flicked through her eyes. He hadn’t intended to frighten her. He dropped the necklace in his breast pocket. “Because I know, that’s all. I’ve got to find her. It’s like a piece of me is missing.” He regarded her sheepishly. “Does that make one lick of sense?”

A flash of understanding passed through her eyes. She nodded.

“Listen, do you need a ride back to the Magnolia? It won’t take a minute to hitch up the wagon.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” She tipped her head. “It would save Paddy from having to come into town again to fetch us.”

“Sure, you go round up the girls and meet me back here.”

“Thank you kindly, Sheriff.” She smiled and hurried off to find the others.

He watched with Nate as she scurried away. He was glad for the mysterious transformation that had taken place among some of the townsfolk. There was a friendly attitude by some, not all, to accept the women as citizens of the town.

“Sure was neighborly of you to offer to take the girls back to the Magnolia.” Nate’s gaze on Angel was unwavering.

Jake wasn’t a stranger to that look, and he’d seen it on his deputy’s face on more than one occasion around the blue-eyed woman. The poor kid didn’t know it yet, but she’d snagged his heart but good. Trouble being that Angel had other ideas. She had her sights on her a piano man. Jake smiled, and found that it felt good. He didn’t have it in him though to dissuade Nate from pining after Angel. “I haven’t been out there in a week or two. Thought maybe I’d stop by and make sure everything was all right.” It was a bold-face lie and both he and Nate knew it.

His deputy’s gaze swung to his. “See if maybe Paddy might have heard anything from her?”

He purposely ignored Nate and brushed past him to grab his coat.

“I’ll keep an eye on things here,” Nate called back to him. His deputy scanned the main street. “Not that things have been real exciting around here, anyway,” he remarked drily.

Jake chuckled and turned to head toward the stable to get the wagon. A sudden ping of the muscle in his butt shot a spasm down his leg, reminding him of just how exciting things could get with very little warning. “Count your blessings, Nate.”

***

“Nope, haven’t heard a word. Wish I could tell you differently.” Paddy poured another finger of whiskey in Jake’s glass. He’d polished off the first in one gulp.

“Last one, Paddy, and then I best head back. There’s a full moon tomorrow night and you know what that does to folks. They tend to get a might unruly.” He saluted the barkeep and tipped back the glass, swallowing the amber liquid, letting the slow burn temporarily ease his tension.

Paddy was busy dusting off the bottles behind the bar. “What the Sam hell is this?”

Jake removed his hat and rubbed his hand back and forth over his head. He needed a good night’s rest. “What is it?”

The old barkeep faced him. He was unfolding a piece of paper. His brows shot up as he read. “I clean forgot about this.”

His gut tightening. “Is that from Lil?” He was about to come over the bar and grab the paper from Paddy’s hand.

“Well here, it ain’t much, but maybe it’ll make sense to you. It sure as hell doesn’t to me.”

He took the paper and squinted to read the scribbled words through a ring of brown bottle stain. “How long have you had this?”

Paddy shrugged. “She gave it to me one night. Said she hoped that I’d never have need of it.” He shook his head. “Things went on as usual, but I kept it, anyway. You suppose it means something? What are those numbers?”

Jake scratched his chin, unable to determine what the ten-digit series of numbers might be. Maybe it was a link to some bank out East? The town though he did recognize—Virginia City. Just up the road from Reno, a hellhole of gamblers and seedier brothels. Jake chewed the corner of his lip in thought. Was this where she’d been hiding all this time? Almost six months had passed. Was she running another brothel or gone back to an old flame? He squeezed his eyes and forced himself to think clearly, positively.

“I’m sure sorry. I hope that it’s not too late to see if this might help you find her.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay, Paddy. If she’d wanted to come back,” he started. “If she’s been this close….” He stared at the paper. “She could have come back anytime if she’d wanted to.”

Paddy regarded him. “The girls claimed that she didn’t take nothing with her.”