Desert Moon Page 15

  His uncle raised his chin. “Might as well get it over with.”

  “I…” Adam squared his shoulders. Uncle Royce was acknowledging what he knew to be true, and now he had to go on. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  “Well, it’s true. I did it, and I’m glad you finally came. It’s been eatin’ at me.”

  A lump as big as a duck’s egg swelled in Adam’s throat. “I’m sorry. I should have known you needed help. Uncle Royce, I could’ve done something.”

  “No, you couldn’t.”

  “Sure I could. I could have moved back in here with you, or at least given you some money now and then. I could have—”

  Uncle Royce held up a hand. “Let’s not bother with what we could have done. I was too stubborn to come to you, so…like I said, let’s get on with it.”

  Adam studied him for a long moment. “Just tell me why you put part of the money back.”

  His uncle sighed. “When you came and told me Monday night that you were going after the killer, I realized you had no idea it was me. I feel so bad that I did that to Bub. I never intended…Well anyway, it happened. But I didn’t need all that money. I knew I didn’t need nearly that much. So I counted out how much I figured I’d need to see me through if you didn’t ever figure it out. And I put the rest back while you were gone. I just…didn’t need that much, Adam.”

  “To live on, you mean?”

  “Yes. I give myself six months at most, but there are always contingencies. And you’d have some expenses connected with the funeral. Taxes I owe on this house, things like that. So I put back three thousand and kept the rest out. In case you didn’t ever realize…but I knew you would. You’re smarter than that.”

  “What do you mean, six months?”

  “I have cancer, Adam. It’s bad. I thought at first I might have a couple years, but it’s pulled me down fast. This last month or so, the pain’s increased. I can’t get around like I used to.”

  “But if you…” He didn’t even want to say it, and he swallowed hard. “If you’re strong enough to hold up a stagecoach…”

  “That didn’t take much strength. Just nerve. I made sure nobody got too close to me and the passengers didn’t see me. I was afraid Chick Lundy would recognize me, but I guess he was too distracted. And I made him drive on before I came out of the bushes.”

  Adam lowered his chin. The weight of his uncle’s confession felt like a ton of rock pressing down on him. “I don’t want to lock you up, Uncle Royce.”

  The old man held his hands out in front of him. “Do what you have to do, son.”

  Adam walked slowly out of the cemetery with Julia and Oliver on a chilly November day. The county sheriff waited out by the road, where folks from outside of town had tied up their teams. He rested a hand on Adam’s shoulder.

  “Well it’s over now. You did all right, Scott.”

  Adam nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I wish you well.” The sheriff nodded to Oliver and Julia and walked over to his horse.

  “Come on to the house, Adam,” Julia said.

  The wind tugged at her hair and the black silk and velvet hat, and she shivered. Adam drew her hand through the crook of his arm.

  “Thanks. I’d like that.”

  “Some of the ladies asked me if they could send some food to the jailhouse, but I told them to leave it off with me, and I’d get it to you.”

  “You’re not entertaining the whole town today, are you?” Adam asked.

  “No. Just you. Folks don’t want to come chitchat. They don’t know what to say.”

  Adam sighed. “I don’t know either.”

  As they reached the boardwalk along Main Street, Chick Lundy was climbing onto the stagecoach, but he hopped down again and came over to shake Adam’s hand.

  “I’m awful sorry about the old doc.”

  “Thanks, Chick,” Adam said.

  “I never thought it was him—but you know that. Still hard to believe. Every time I drive past that spot where Bub was shot, I shudder.”

  Adam nodded. “I’m just glad my uncle didn’t have to go through a trial and all that.”

  “Well, if they’d been quicker to get things going at the court…” Chick shrugged. “Just as well.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “I need to get moving. See you folks later.” He nodded at Julia and Oliver and mounted to the driver’s box.

  Peewee Dennis climbed up beside him, hefting a shotgun. They both had revolvers strapped on. Chick had told Adam a few weeks back that he never took the reins anymore without at least two loaded guns. Between him and Peewee, they were loaded for bear, but so far there had been no further incidents along the route.

  Julia tugged Adam along the sidewalk. “Come on, it’s cold.”

  A minute later, the stagecoach rolled past them, on the way to Flagstaff. Adam waved to Peewee and Chick. If rumors were any indication, the stage wouldn’t run to Ardell much longer. The High Desert Mine now owned two trucks, and Lucas Morley had brought the first automobile to town.

  They walked on up the street. As they approached the crossroad, Oliver said, “Have you thought about moving into the doc’s house?”

  Adam shook his head. “Not yet.” The thought of going into the empty house was too depressing. He didn’t think he wanted to live there. “I expect I’ll sell it.”

  The place that really seemed like home was the Newman house. That’s where he’d always felt welcome, even during the painful time after Julia broke up with him. The family had never turned Adam away, whether he was happy, glum, bearing gifts, or flat broke. After Julia left, it was just Oliver and his mother, but their friendship had carried him through a lot of difficult times.

  When they reached it, Oliver opened the front door.

  “Come on in.”

  Adam let Julia go first and followed her inside. The house was peaceful, as always, and it smelled like fresh-baked bread.

  “Make yourself at home, Adam. I’m going to go change my clothes.” Oliver went up the stairs.

  Julia took off her black hat and coat. Beneath it she wore a blue dress that made her eyes look more vivid than ever, and her upswept hair gave her an elegant, formal air, despite the work the wind had done at the cemetery. She looked more the Philadelphia society lady in Adam’s eyes than a woman from an Arizona mountain town.

  He took off his hat and jacket and hung them near the door.

  “Come on out to the kitchen if you want,” Julia said. “Oliver plans to go to work this afternoon, but he’ll eat with us.”

  They walked through the parlor to the warm kitchen, and she headed straight for the stove.

  “Let me build the fire up for you,” he said.

  “Thanks.” She picked up the coffeepot that had been simmering on the back. “Want some coffee? You can sit and talk to me while I get dinner ready.”

  “Sure.”

  He raked up the coals in the firebox and put in three good-sized sticks of wood.

  Julia poured him a mug of coffee, hot and strong, and set it on the table. She put the coffeepot back on the stove and took an apron off a hook near the back door. He watched her tie it around her waist.

  She looked a little more approachable with the apron on, but still, she wasn’t the girl he’d known back before he’d proposed to her and she’d said no. She seemed much quieter now, more serious and thoughtful. It wasn’t only that they’d just come from his uncle’s funeral.

  She bustled about like her mother used to, taking dishes out of the icebox and the cupboards and putting them on the table. She put two pans on the stove and dished food into them. Every motion had a purpose.

  Adam’s throat ached. Where was the carefree girl who rode breakneck across the desert, wearing a split skirt and a man’s hat? Was this Julia who couldn’t risk loving a lawman—or Julia who’d go head-to-head with him and loved every second of it? Was she ready to transfer some of her fierce loyalty from her brother to him—or would she reject him once more and go back East? H
e’d wanted to ask Oliver if she would stay, but he hadn’t dared.

  She set a plate of sliced breads—two different kinds—on the table and looked over at him. “Folks have been quite generous. I’ll fix you a box to take to the jail with you. There’s probably enough jam to last you all winter.” She turned back to the cupboard and brought out a dish of applesauce.

  “Julie…”

  She met his gaze and smiled. The lump of lead in Adam’s chest began to melt.

  “Seems like we haven’t seen much of you lately,” she said. “I hope you know you can come here anytime.”

  “Thanks.” He’d been busy the last few weeks, nursing his uncle through his final illness and tending to the old man’s affairs—not to mention busting up a gang of rustlers working the nearby ranches. It was true he hadn’t seen much of Julia, though Oliver had sought him out several times at the jail or Uncle Royce’s house. In between Uncle Royce’s arraignment and his death, Oliver had stayed with the old man at times when Adam needed to be away. Sometime, when his nerves weren’t so raw, Adam would thank his friend properly.

  The kitchen door opened, and Oliver walked in.

  “Dinner ready?”

  “Almost.” Julia loaded their plates with food from the pans on the stove and laid two biscuits between the beans and the side meat. She sat down and bowed her head. Oliver asked the blessing, and they began to eat. Adam tried to keep his mind on the conversation. He asked Oliver a few questions about things at the mine. Julia said she was thinking of buying a horse from Sam Dennis.

  Oliver quit after one plateful and a piece of pie. “I’d better get going.”

  “Don’t you want more coffee?” Julia asked.

  “No time. I told Mr. Gerry I’d be there by one. Tomorrow’s payday, and I have a lot to do.”

  Adam stood and said something inane, and then Oliver was gone.

  He was alone with Julia for the first time since the cave. He must have shown his anxiety, because Julia eyed him sharply.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I…” He sat down, nodded, and took a sip of his coffee.

  “More pie?” she asked.

  Adam shook his head.

  “What is it?”

  He looked around the room for a moment then gazed at her. “I feel all hollow inside, Julie.”

  She walked over and touched his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I reckon I’ll ride out to meet the stagecoach tomorrow. They’ll be carrying the payroll.”

  She nodded. “If you feel you have to do that, then do it.”

  That didn’t sound like her, and he studied her warily. Did she actually agree with him that he should put himself at a higher risk in order to protect the payroll and the people on the stagecoach?

  “Come on into the front room for a few minutes.” She nodded toward his coffee cup. “Bring that if you want to.”

  He rose, and she untied her apron and tossed it over the back of her chair. He topped off his coffee and followed her into the front room. She sat down on the sofa, instead of in the rocker. The new item of furniture was Oliver’s birthday gift to Julia. She’d protested at first and then gave in and picked out the sofa she liked best from the catalog.

  Adam sat beside her, suddenly nervous at being this close to her.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “I’m glad it’s over.”

  She nodded. “So am I. The poor man. He helped so many people over the years. It makes me sad that he didn’t feel as though he had any friends when he needed help.”

  Adam sighed and leaned back on the cushions. “You know, Uncle Royce was a heavy drinker for several years now, and I think people noticed that.”

  “They probably couldn’t help it.”

  He nodded. “I noticed, but I should have paid more attention. That’s why he lost most of his patients, I’m sure. When the new doctor came, a lot of them quit going to Uncle Royce and went to Browning. I can’t say as I blame them, really, but it’s too bad in a way.”

  “Yes. That probably upset him to the point where he drank even more,” Julia said.

  “Uh-huh. And his income dwindled down to practically nothing. When most of his patients deserted him, he couldn’t afford whiskey and pipe tobacco anymore. I wish I’d realized it sooner.”

  He looked up at her. “I just assumed he’d put enough by over the years. I could have helped him some. Not a lot, but—Well, I probably should have moved in with him when he asked me to, but I was afraid we’d be too crowded and get on each other’s nerves. I didn’t know he needed me.”

  “He was too proud to tell you. Do you think he decided to rob the stagecoach while he was inebriated?”

  “Probably. After I arrested him, he told me he was so desperate he couldn’t see any other way to get money. At the time, it seemed like a brilliant notion to him. He could stop the stage, get the payroll, disappear, and no one would be the wiser, so long as he made sure no one recognized him. He didn’t intend to kill anyone.” Adam shook his head. “Bub was a friend of his and had been a patient for years.”

  “So sad.”

  He took a sip of his coffee. “He said he hadn’t really aimed when Bub fired at him. He just let off a round. He was amazed that he was able to hit anything.”

  Julia reached over and squeezed his wrist gently. “Are you going to be all right, Adam?”

  “I think so.” He looked long into her eyes.

  “It’s not your fault, you know.”

  “I feel like it is. And he suffered…toward the end.” Tears formed in his eyes, and his face ached.

  “Oliver told me some of it. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I’m glad he had you with him.”

  Adam nodded. His throat was too constricted for him to speak, but he understood what she meant.

  They sat in silence for a long moment. At last he raised his cup and was able to take a swallow. He tried to pull his thoughts together.

  “Julia.”

  “Yes?”

  He looked over at her portrait, hanging on the opposite wall. She looked very grave in the photograph, as he supposed all schoolmarms should. Gazing at it was easier than looking at her. “Are you thinking about going away again?”

  She hesitated so long, he had to sneak a glance at her.

  “No,” she whispered. “I’d like to stay here with Oliver.”

  His heart beat more normally then.

  “When you went away…” He stopped. Was there any use in asking?

  “Yes?”

  “You were upset with me. You said…” He made himself turn and look into her eyes. “You said you could never marry a lawman.”

  She nodded. “I did say that. I meant it.”

  “Do you still feel that way? Because I don’t feel the Lord wanting me to change to being something else, but…but I don’t know as I can go on living without you.”

  Her smile was a bit shaky, and it was her turn to avoid eye contact. “Are you asking me to marry you, Adam?”

  “Should I? Because I don’t want to hear you say no again. I don’t think I could stand it. So if you’re going to say no, I’m not going to ask.” He clenched his teeth and looked at the portrait. She was probably a very good teacher. Maybe he should just let her go.

  After a long time, she stirred. “Why don’t you go ahead and ask.”

  She wouldn’t be that cruel, would she? To give him a drop of hope and then drown him in disappointment?

  He turned his head just enough to see her from the corner of his eye. Slowly, she extended her hand to him, palm up. He took it and clasped it tight in his own.

  “Julie!”

  She smiled, but unshed tears stood in her eyes. Adam set his coffee cup down on the rug, slid to the floor, and knelt before her.

  “Will you? Will you marry me, Julie?”

  She either sobbed or laughed, he wasn’t sure which, but she put her other hand up to his cheek.

  “Yes. I will.”
>
  “Are you sure you want to be a lawman’s wife?”

  She nodded, looking into his eyes. “I want to be your wife, whatever that involves. And I’m ready now.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her, but it was too awkward, so he jumped up and pulled her to her feet.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Adam.”

  He took her in his arms and kissed her. He’d do anything he could to make it easier for her—to make it so she didn’t need to worry so much. But the fact that she knew he’d still be in danger and could live with that made all the difference. He held her close, unable to speak for a long time, knowing how much she was sacrificing for him.

  The door behind him opened and they broke apart.

  “Well, now.” Oliver came in and shut the door. “Forgot the ledger I brought home last night. Excuse me.”

  Julia walked over to her brother and reached for his hands. “Ollie, we’re getting married.”

  Oliver smiled and nodded at Adam. “It’s about time.”

  Epilogue

  On February 3, 1912, the town of Ardell turned out in fine style for the wedding of Deputy Sheriff Adam Scott and Miss Julia Newman. The Reverend Jan Kepler was happy to perform the ceremony in the church. Oliver served as best man, and Julia prevailed upon Edna Somers, Bub Hilliard’s heartbroken fiancée, to serve as her bridesmaid.

  She was glad she’d made that choice. Edna needed something to lift her spirits. The wedding preparations gave the two young women plenty to talk about. Julia had at first feared that planning another woman’s nuptials when her own intended groom had been killed so unexpectedly would force Edna into deeper depression. Instead, they became fast friends, and the festivities proved a good distraction for Edna. Julia liked her so well that she began to toy with the idea of encouraging Oliver to call on Edna.

  Despite the sub-zero temperatures on the mountain that day, the entire town—from the lofty Mr. Gerry to the poorest of the miners and ranchers—came out for the party held afterward in the church.

  “Well, Scott!” Mr. Gerry slapped the groom on the back, nearly causing him to spill the cup of sweet cider he held. “Too bad you decided not to go into government. I’m headed for Phoenix next week. We could have traveled down together.”