Lanterns and Lace

Chapter 33

Mimi opened the front door just as Grant reached for the outside knob. “Ellen’s awake. It’s a miracle, a real miracle. She tried to talk, but Frank stopped her just like you said. Then he asked if she knew who attacked her.”

Grant’s heart raced. “And she does?”

“Yes.” She blinked, no doubt to keep her wavering tears from drowning their conversation. “So I’ve been sitting with her while Frank went to fetch Ben. The reverend headed back to the parsonage before Frank left. I rushed downstairs when I saw you coming up the front walk.”

Grant glanced at the staircase. “Praise God. Maybe now we can get to the bottom of this.” He started up the stairs, then turned heel. “Mimi, how is Rebecca faring in all of this?”

She smiled faintly. “Martha has kept her busy playing with the boys.”

“Good. I don’t want her overhearing anything that might scare her. Ben doesn’t want anyone to know that Ellen survived until we find out who attacked her.”

“I’ll do my part and tell the others. Is Jenny on her way?”

He stopped midway. “No . . . she’s gone.”

“I don’t understand.” Mimi’s face drained of color. “Where is she?”

He hesitated to reply and, in his indecision, gripped the handrail. The magnitude of the troubles facing him and those he loved mounted with each fleeting moment, and his normal, orderly pattern of handling matters threatened to crumble. With one hand he squeezed the hand of God, and with the other he shielded himself and those he loved from the grim occurrences around them. Breathing a quick prayer for strength and trust, he viewed the confusion and shock written clearly across Mimi’s face. It took only seconds to reach her.

“Jenny boarded the train this morning for Ohio.”

“Why? Did you two quarrel? She never said a word about leaving. No good-bye. Nothing.”

He shook his head, torn between the needs of his patient and those of his housekeeper. “She wrote several letters. One is addressed to you.” He reached inside his jacket. “All I know is what she wrote in mine.”

Her gaze darted nervously about. “Did she say why she left? Sorry, but I have to ask. I mean, I know you need to see Ellen.”

He paused. “Please keep this between us, and we’ll talk when Ben leaves. Jenny is gone because she feels responsible for all the things that have happened in Kahlerville and because she’s in love with me.”

Grant reached out to take her hand. “It’s not over yet, so don’t you cry. I’m not letting Jenny get away. I know God intended for us to be together, and I’m going to find a way to overcome that stubborn resolve of hers.” He released the older woman and watched her dab her eyes.

“Go take care of Ellen.” She shooed him away with her soggy handkerchief. “I need to have another good cry and pray God’s protection over Ellen, Jenny, and . . . and everyone else.”

He bent over and kissed her cheek. “Ben always says that God’s in control. He knows the outcome, and we simply need to have faith.”

With an encouraging smile, he left Mimi to see his patient. Once inside the room where Ellen lay with her eyes closed, Grant viewed the purplish-red and blue-black bruises extending from above her eyes to the visible area of her neck. Anger soared with the realization that this dear lady had suffered needlessly at the hands of a brutal man.

“Ellen,” Grant whispered, but she didn’t stir. He sat down beside her and decided to wait a few minutes until she awakened. Had it been only a few hours ago that he thought Frank carried a dead woman? Ellen’s breathing had been so shallow, so faint that he had to feel her chest for its rise and fall.

With the night behind all of them and the knowledge of Jenny heading back to Ohio, Grant desperately needed to know for sure who attacked Ellen. She opened her swollen eyes through narrowed slits and stared at the empty chair where her husband had sat. Her questioning gaze flew to Grant.

“He went to fetch Ben,” Grant said. “They’ll be here shortly.”

Something terrifying captured her attention, and she tried to raise herself from the bed.

Grant eased her back onto the pillow. When she could not be consoled, he produced paper and pen. “Can you write it down? I need to know what’s upsetting you.”

She reached for the pen with shaking fingers, and Grant assisted her in scribbling one word onto the paper. It read “Jenny.”

Outwardly, he kept his composure, but his mind and heart weighed heavily with fear. “Jenny left on the morning train back to Ohio,” Grant said.

Heavy footsteps and the voices of Ben and Frank came up the stairs. Grant didn’t turn to greet either man but kept his attention on his patient. “Is Jenny in danger?”

A fresh array of tears streamed down her face. Instantly, Frank bent to his knees at her side. A smile of understanding passed between them.

“Ellen,” Grant said. “Did Aubrey Turner do this to you?”

Her anxious gaze flew from Frank to Grant and back again.

Frank lightly brushed the strawberry blond hair from her face. “Give Grant and Ben the answer, sweetheart. Nobody’s going to hurt you. I’m right here.”

Grant marveled at the big man’s infinite tenderness. He ached for Jenny. Dear God, she has to be safe.

Finally, Ellen nodded affirmatively. Pain etched her features, and Frank lifted her hand into his.

“Was he looking for something?” Ben said.

Ellen wordlessly agreed.

“Money?” Ben leaned in next to his brother. The animosity between the two men about Ben’s questioning had vanished. But that was the way with brothers.

Ellen nodded.

“Did he find what he was looking for?”

She shook her head no.

“Did he plan to go after Jenny?”

She nodded and blinked back the tears.

Grant clenched his fists to dispel the rising anger. “We need to let Ellen rest.” He exited the room with Ben to speak privately downstairs. More than enough evidence had been obtained to issue a warrant for Turner’s arrest, but Grant wanted more. He wanted the man behind bars now.

Ben coughed—that nagging perpetual cough. “I’ll wire all the towns where the train is scheduled to stop and ask them to be on the lookout for a man fitting Turner’s description. I’ll also ask them to detain Jenny until one of us can talk to her.”

“That sounds better. In the meantime, I’m going after her myself. I simply can’t stay here and do nothing.”

“What about tending to Ellen?” Frank said.

“I’ve already sent word to a doctor in Montgomery County to send a nurse to help Mimi. Ellen’s going to be all right, but she needs good medical care. In the meantime, I’m sure Mimi and my mother will sit with her.”

Ben frowned. “Tell you what—I’ll swear in Frank and make him a deputy until this mess is cleared up. That way he can protect the women and children here while you’re gone.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel better. I want that murdering thief found before someone else is hurt.” He could say no more. Turner had been successful in completing two of his attacks, proof of his clever planning. What else was he capable of doing?

“Ben, let’s talk downstairs,” Grant said. “I have a few things I want to tell you about Turner.”

The two men slowly made their way down the stairs.

“Grant, Ben, I need to talk to you.” Martha met them at the bottom of the stairs. “For once in my life, I’m going to do the decent thing.”

“We can talk in my office,” Grant said. Could he be right about Turner on this point, too? He hoped not, but it made sense.

“Fine. Mimi is watching the children. This is going to be hard, very hard, but I have to tell you about Aubrey Turner. I really think he’s the one who hurt Ellen.”

Grant gestured her into his office, and she sat stiffly. He and Ben exchanged glances. Curious. Hopeful. But could Martha be trusted to tell the truth about anything?

“What is it, Martha? I’m hoping you know something about Turner that can help me throw him in jail,” Ben said.

“I do. That and more.” She lifted her chin. “Turner is a professional gambler. He boasted about a colorful past, and from what he’s done here, I’m sure it’s true. He learned from one of my girls about Lester and me.” She peered up at Grant, then at Ben. “I trust you to keep this confidential, but Lester is the father of my sons.

“Grant, you were nearly right that day. All the time Turner played up to me and the girls, he was scheming. He took the information and went to Lester’s wife with the truth. You see, it’s her money invested in the bank, and when she found out her money was supporting the boys, well, she didn’t take it well. My sons look just like Lester, so there wasn’t any point in him denying who they belonged to. Turner threatened to take the news to the whole town unless the three of us agreed to help him find the money that Jessica supposedly stole from him. Sylvia Hillman is not a bad person. She could have said a lot of things to me but didn’t. Anyway, we were all forced to do whatever Turner demanded.”

She glanced down at her folded hands in her lap. “Sylvia was supposed to spread rumors about Ellen and Jenny—anything to discredit them. I did my job that day in the general store. Lester searched through all the records at his bank to find the money, but he found nothing.”

“Did Turner set the fire?”

“I think so. When I refused to set up another card game, he said he’d get even.”

“Why did you refuse him?” Ben said. “You have card games there all the time.”

“He cheats, and I didn’t want someone else killed.” She stiffened. “I do have my own morals. Looks to me like Jenny Martin is in danger, especially if what happened to Ellen is any indication of what Turner will do next. I never learned how much money was at stake, but it must be a tidy sum.” She stood from her chair. “I’ve said my piece. In the next few days, I’m leaving Kahlerville with my sons. No point in staying here any longer.”

“Martha, are you afraid of Turner?” Ben’s soft tone was what Grant appreciated about his brother-in-law. Compassion for the downtrodden.

“Normally, I’m not afraid of much, but I have my sons to consider. Now you can arrest him, right?”

“Ellen identified him as her attacker.”

“We have to find him first,” Ben said. “He supposedly left town.”

Grant glanced out the open window of his office. No breeze today. Just the stifling heat that caused tempers to soar and strong men to grow weak.

Jenny, are you safe?

*****

Jenny watched the countryside disappear as the train passed by tall, spindly pines and green, rolling hills dotted with colorful foliage. The steady click of the train wheels against the track took her farther and farther away from the people and the town she loved. Her lace handkerchief rested damp in the palm of her hand from wiping away the many tears. Each time she recalled a special moment with Grant, Rebecca, the Andrews family, Miss Mimi, or Ellen, her eyes flooded again. All that she had left from the summer rested in the fond memories forever embedded in her heart.

“Miss, is there anything I can do for you?” a kindly porter said.

“No, thank you.”

The porter smiled. “I’ll check with you later.”

Jenny brushed away the wetness only to have her eyes water. Pleasant recollections drifted by, much like the miles, leaving a landscape of beauty far behind, never to be forgotten and never to be recaptured again. She knew no regrets in coming to Texas. How could she? For there in that country town she had found the meaning of love and a real relationship with Jesus Christ. Without a doubt, she knew her trip had been the result of divine intervention. This fact alone comforted her as the train chugged along.

Little Rebecca would grow into a fine young lady. Jenny wanted to remember her niece on special occasions with small sentiments. After all, she didn’t really want Rebecca to forget her aunt Jenny.

How could I ever have thought she would be better off with Mother and Father or me? A permanent lump seemed to have settled in her throat. How selfish she’d been when what she really needed was to experience God’s unconditional love.

Images of Grant crept into her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to push them away. She wondered how long before he forgot her—how long before he began escorting another woman to church. Oh, how she loved Kahlerville’s young doctor. His green eyes flashed vividly across her mind. If only he’d loved her in return, then she might be there today. But Grant knew all her ugly traits—how she’d tried to steal his precious Rebecca. Nothing good could come from a love begun in deceit.

Pushing the summer from her mind, she envisioned teaching school and going on with her life without her parents’ influence. She whimsically hoped for a softening of their spirits, even though she knew such a feat was impossible. They had little use for Christianity or those who professed such beliefs. Of course, not so long ago, she had shared in their opinions.

She had ignored their disapproval of her activities and continued to write cheery letters in which she spoke of the people and events going on around her. She needed for them to see she was happy and content, more at peace than she had ever thought possible. Jenny smiled in guessing her mother’s reaction to the news of her daughter learning how to cook.

Jenny sensed a special closeness to Jessica, and someday she planned to instill in her own children the value of telling them how much they are loved. A twinge of regret nibbled at her in the decision to leave the journal with Grant. She’d reread many portions of it, enough to memorize the treasured entries so dear to her. How grand if she’d discovered where Jessica had deposited the money and then presented it to Grant for Rebecca and the young women from the brothel. Nevertheless, she felt Grant would have no difficulty in deciphering its contents.

She looked around at the few passengers. Two men sat several seats in front of her. From time to time, they talked quite loudly and smoked foul-smelling cigars. She remembered how the smell had made her stomach retch on her trip to Texas, and she shuddered at the thought of the sickness returning. The older couple opposite her appeared deeply engrossed in a newspaper and spoke in low whispers. No other passengers were on the train.

She couldn’t help but feel ashamed and embarrassed about her first train ride to Texas. It didn’t matter that she’d been ill. She’d still treated people horribly. Jenny hoped she might see some of those same faces again so she could apologize for her previous behavior.

She wanted to do so much for Jesus, to have her life count for good, and to touch people’s lives the way she’d been touched by Him. Jesus rode with her on the lonely train back to Ohio. She knew He understood her sadness and the pain in leaving Kahlerville.

Little time remained before school started, and she needed to prepare herself for the new students. Already she intended to use hymns in her piano lessons and to utilize the optional opening time at the beginning of the school day for prayer and devotions. Once she had ignored it, but no longer. Bible verse memorization and student-read scripture would benefit not only the students but also the teacher.

Her mind swept over Cleveland’s familiar streets and the churches solidly built on their corners. Finding a suitable church home might take awhile.

A man sat down beside her, interrupting her reflections.

“Good morning, Jenny.”

She gasped, alarmed with the instant recognition of the man. Caution and control fought to keep her steady. “Aubrey, what a surprise.”

“I gathered you’d feel that way.” He flicked a bit of dust from his jacket.

“I thought you’d left town earlier.”

“A bit of unfinished business brought me back.” His violet eyes looked menacing, and she noted his smile and charm from past encounters had vanished.

The handsome features that once had attracted her to Aubrey Turner now filled her with morbid dread. The revolver lay in her reticule. She’d use it if he refused to leave her alone.

“I certainly hope your business is pleasant.” She searched for the porter.

“It all depends upon you, my dear,” he said.

“I know you mean well, but I really need this time to be alone.” She despised the game she played with this vile man.

“I’d planned for us to engage in some delightful conversations.”

Aubrey opened the left side of his jacket and revealed a small handgun. Before she could fully acknowledge the danger, he neatly slipped it from a strap around his shoulders and shoved the barrel into her ribs.

“Do not utter a sound,” he said. “Let me explain a peculiar fact about this type of handgun. It has a short firing range and sometimes misses the target entirely, but at this distance I believe accuracy isn’t a problem. You are mine, dear Jenny, to do with as I choose.”