The Kissing Bridge: Cassie's Story (Hearts of Hays Series #3) Page 4

  “Heavens, no. I agree. I should never have put you in that position in the first place.” Cassie hugged Laura. “You are, after all, my best friend as well my sister-in-law.”

  While posting the fund-raising signs everywhere in town, Cassie ran into Alex in front of his hotel, looking smart in a plaid shirt and string tie.

  “Good job,” he praised, as he scanned her posters. “These look great.” He winked at her. “And so do you, I might add.”

  Cassie blushed. “You look smart, as well. Going somewhere interesting?” Cassie asked.

  “Actually, I was headed out to your place to see you.”

  Cassie smiled. “To discuss the fund-raiser?”

  “No,” he smiled. “To see you. I was thinking that, since it’s not quite noon, we could do that picnic under the elder tree today.”

  “Sure. I’m almost finished posting these, and when I’m done, I’ll run back and pack us a lunch. I’ll meet you at the elder tree.” She turned and headed to the lumberyard, her last stop.

  Cassie entered the lumberyard and inhaled the wonderful smell of fresh cut wood. She approached the owner, Josh Redfield, a handsome, burly man with a neatly trimmed reddish beard and mustache. After they exchanged mutual greetings she asked, “Can I post these somewhere?”

  “Sure,” he said, scanning the poster. “Great idea. I’ll have Kate bake her famous apple cake for the sale.”

  “I sampled that once at one of the church dinners. I may buy it myself,” she said.

  “Say,” Josh said, looking around to see if anyone was close enough to hear. “What did you think of the sermon, Sunday?”

  Cassie grimaced.

  “That’s what I thought, too.” He smoothed his beard and asked, “What do you think of the new minister?"

  “I like him. We’ve become friends, but I have to agree that his sermon was a bit dry and lacking in scriptural references. He might have been nervous, it being his first week and all. And, we are used to Reverend McCarty’s eloquent sermons.” Cassie shrugged. “We just need to give him a chance.”

  Josh nodded. “You’re probably right. He’s much younger than I expected, as well. His application listed numerous positions he’s had, yet he’s so young or maybe just looks young. But I’m sure you’re right; he's probably simply nervous."

  He opened the door for her, “Good luck with the sale.”

  Cassie hurried home to pack the picnic lunch. Meg and Carl had gone away for a few days to visit Carl’s mother, who lived near Topeka. She’d made a mental note to check on the livery, to be sure Carl’s son, Mel, wasn’t having any problems with it in his absence. Not that she was worried—both Carl and Mel had been working for Silas since he'd opened the business.

  As she packed the lunch she wondered how it would work out, now that Carl lived there as well. Should she move out, onto her own two hundred acres? Build a small house, and ranch alone? She’d have to talk to the newlyweds when they returned.

  Pickles! She’d forgotten the pickles! Cassie ran to the springhouse, grabbed the pickles, threw the jar into the basket, and ran to the elder tree.

  Fortunately, Alex had not yet arrived, so she spread out the blanket, and sat leaning against the old tree, thinking about her situation and how much she still missed Silas. She blinked away tears, brushed dust from her tan riding pants, and straightened her blue blouse. If only she could feel just a tiny bit of what she felt for Silas for Alex it would ease her pain.

  She glanced over at the bridge, remembering her last kiss there with Silas. When she was in town earlier, she noticed a man who'd had his back to her, and for a moment her stomach began to churn and her heart was set aflutter. When he turned, she'd discovered, much to her disappointment, that it wasn’t Silas.

  How she wished it had been Silas, and that she was waiting for him to arrive instead of Alex. She sighed loudly.

  “Was that sigh because I’m late?” Alex asked, as he hurried toward her. He sat down on the blanket. “What’s to eat? I’m starving.”

  Cassie opened the basket, took out two plates, and set them down on the blanket. She opened the jar of pickles and placed one on each plate. She unwrapped fried chicken and biscuits and arranged them neatly on the plates as well. Then she handed him his plate. He'd taken three bites out of his chicken before she even taken one bit of hers.

  Cassie thought it strange he didn’t suggest they pray before eating. Come to think of it, he hadn’t at the restaurant the other day either. How odd.

  After they’d eaten and packed the lunch away, Cassie leaned back against the tree. “This is lovely,” she said.

  “Extremely,” Alex said, and slid closer to her. He put his arm around her, letting his hand dangle over her left shoulder in dangerous proximity to her breast. She kept a nervous eye on it.

  “So,” he began, “have the newlyweds returned yet?” His hand dangled closer.

  “I expect them any time now,” she replied.

  “I’m sure they’re enjoying their time away.” His hand slowly dropped a little more and he gave her breast a light caress.

  Cassie jumped to her feet. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Cassie, it was an accident! You have to believe me!”

  “I think you’d better leave.”

  “C’mon, Cassie. You dated that Martin man for three years. Are you telling me he never touched your breast?”

  “He never did any such thing!”

  Alex smirked. “C’mon, after three years?”

  “And you, being a minister, should know it’s wrong,” she said, hands poised on her hips.

  “It’s not as though we fornicated—it was just a love pat. I meant nothing by it. I apologize!” he said holding up both hands in surrender. “But, it’s hard to believe—”

  Cassie sighed. “I thought I was safe with you, of all people.”

  “I apologized. Can we move on and forget this ever happened?”

  Cassie didn’t want to be friends with him anymore, but what could she do? He was the minister of their congregation. Besides, what would people think if she'd accused him of touching her? Who would they believe: someone who was courted by the same man for three years, or a minister?

  “Yes, we can," she conceded. "But just as friends.”

  “Fair enough,” he agreed with a nod.

  After Alex left, she went into the house and cried out her frustration. A short while later, she got an unexpected visit from Jesse, she dried her eyes the best she could, ran out to meet him and offered him a seat on the porch.

  Jesse asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about Silas? I’d have understood.”

  “I thought he’d be back with good news, and no one would need to know.”

  “You look flustered,” he said, eyeing her carefully. “Your cheeks are flushed, and— hey! You’ve been crying! What’s wrong now?”

  Cassie played with the lace on her handkerchief. “I’m terribly upset.” Her voice broke with emotion as she spoke.

  “Why?” he asked, with concern, rubbing her arm with affection.

  “I can’t tell you, because you’ll try to solve it with fighting.” She caught the tears running down her cheeks with her handkerchief, “I need to keep this quiet.”

  “Now you have to tell me.”

  Cassie doubted Alex’s actions were an accident, especially after he'd insinuated she was no longer pure because Silas had courted her for three years. She felt she couldn’t tell anyone, because who would believe her? Who would believe that a minister had made sexual advances? The accusation alone was only bound to make others wonder about her purity as well, because three years of courting was irregular. She couldn’t even confide in her mother, because she was sure to say, “I told you so.”

  Cassie had to tell Jesse.

  “Alex Carter,” she began. “He… he touched me… intimately today.”

  Jesse’s eyes widened. “Can you be more specific? What do you mean by intimately?”

  Cassie grimac
ed. She wasn’t comfortable talking about these things with anyone, let alone her brother, but she knew she had little choice. “He put his arm around me, casually, as we talked, and his hand hovered over my shoulder, near my breast. It made me nervous, but I didn’t do anything except keep my eyes on it. Then, he moved his hand closer, and then he actually stroked my—”

  “I’ll kill him!” Jesse growled. He turned and started toward his horse.

  “No, you can’t!” When her shouted words halted Jesse, he came back and faced her and waited for an explanation. “That will cause the whole town to know, and my reputation is precarious enough now, having been courted for three years. “Let’s keep it between us for now.”

  Jesse thought the matter over. “Then, Josh Redfield needs to know because he hired the snake. He’s a minister! How can he preach to us when he’s a sneaky, low down—”

  “Calm down, Jesse,” Cassie interrupted, wiping away a stray tear. “He claimed the touch was an accident, at first, but then he brought up my past courtship, so I know it was intentional.”

  “Of course, it was. That’s how some men try it on. They inch into a sexual encounter and if they aren’t stopped, they keep going. It’s sort of a test. I’m riding into town to see Josh.” Jesse raced down the steps and to his horse.

  “Wait,” Cassie cried. “I’m coming too.”

  Jesse and Cassie found the lumberyard closed for the day, so they rode down the dusty road to where the Redfield’s lived. They had a beautiful home on the old Hopkins Road, near the schoolhouse that had been Josh’s home when he first settled in Hays. When his business blossomed, he built the bigger house, and he married Kate, a pretty teacher he met while his little niece, Anna, attended the school.

  Josh welcomed Jesse and Cassie and invited them into the large elegant living room, decorated in light tones of blue and lilac. “I’m sorry that Kate’s not here. She and the children went to visit my sister, Joanna. She and her husband have just welcomed a new baby, and Kate is helping them out for a few days. But don’t worry, she’ll still bake that cake for the sale.”

  “This isn’t a social call; it’s business,” Jesse snapped, sitting on the edge of his seat.

  “But we congratulate Joanna and her husband on the new baby,” Cassie said, giving Jesse a stern look.

  “Sorry, Josh. I’m not in a social mood tonight,” Jesse explained.

  “I understand. What’s the problem?”

  “It’s that shifty minister you hired. He touched my sister inappropriately and then accused her of being experienced because she’d been courted by Silas for three years.”

  Josh looked at Cassie who looked down at the carpet in embarrassment. She merely nodded.

  “I don’t know what to say, except I don’t blame you for your anger, Jesse. Having a sister myself, I totally understand. I have no idea what’s going on with this Alexander Carter. He had the best references and this isn’t the first complaint against him, either.” Josh shook his head. “I’m puzzled.”

  “There were other complaints?” Cassie asked.

  “None as serious as this, but yes. A few people from the congregation tried to go to him with their problems and he made excuses as to why he didn’t have time to listen.”

  “So,” Jesse said firmly, “what can we do about it?”

  “First thing in the morning, I’ll telegraph the church home office since they are the ones who sent him to us. For now, I’d not say or do a thing; go on as you normally do.”

  Josh turned to Cassie, “And don’t worry—this story stays with me.” He looked at Jesse, “I know this will be difficult for you, but please, don’t say or do anything to Carter at this point. It would only cause embarrassment for Cassie. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”

  Chapter 5

  Will Smith announced a visitor. Silas stood, anxious to break the monotony of his solitude with a visitor, no matter who it was. A well-dressed man stood before the bars. Will opened the door, let the man inside the cell, and handed him a chair to sit on. Silas had no idea who the man was.

  After Will left, the man introduced himself as Warren Bancroft, an attorney. He was a middle-aged, nondescript-looking man, with dark hair and glasses, who offered Silas a firm handshake. Bancroft said, “Mrs. Edna Rogers has asked me to visit you. She’s already told me her story. I’d like to hear yours, and then I’ll determine if we have a case.”

  “Certainly,” Silas said. “My story's short, really. I married Belinda Rogers because her father caught us in a delicate situation, not of my making. He forced the marriage, but no intimacy ever occurred, either before or after the marriage. In fact, the day after the wedding I caught her in bed with my brother, Oliver, and that’s when I decided I’d had enough, and I needed to get out of Kansas City. I went to my room, packed my things, and left town about one that morning.”

  Bancroft jotted down notes as Silas spoke.

  “I rode day and night and arrived in Hays about noon, three days later. I rode hard and changed horses numerous times along the way. I didn’t even stop to eat, but I bought some biscuits in a small town and ate them as I rode. When I got to Hays, I located a house for sale that first day, and bought it, and I settled and stayed there for three years. I fell in love with a woman in Hays, and came back to Kansas City to get an annulment. If I had killed Belinda, why would I come back to settle things?”

  “Good point,” was all the attorney said, as he continued taking notes. “Anything else?”

  “Just that Oliver told the sheriff I'd killed Belinda. Even though we haven't been close since our teen years, we're still brothers. I have no idea why he’d say that.”

  Bancroft stopped writing and flipped his notepad to a different page. He said, "This is Edna's version," and he began to read from his notes: "Belinda was the step-daughter of Joe Rogers, since Edna had been married before, and Belinda’s real father was shot in a saloon fight when she was an infant. Joe adopted her, so Belinda’s name became Rogers. Her mother’s maiden name is Smith, and I believe she is a second cousin to the man on duty tonight, Will Smith.”

  Silas nodded.

  “There are additional facts,” the attorney continued, “Belinda was four months pregnant when she was killed. Edna suspected that her husband Joe had been intimate with Belinda.”

  Silas’s eyes widened in surprise, “I didn’t even know about the pregnancy or that Joe wasn’t her real father!”

  “For some reason, Joe decided it was time for Belinda to be married, and he chose you. You’re absolutely right—you were framed. Edna thinks he chose you because you had money and a future. Your brother also had money, but he gambled heavily, and Joe didn’t care for him or think he had a future, so you became the sacrificial lamb.

  “This also gave the authorities the motive they needed to arrest you for murder. That and your leaving town suddenly.” Bancroft shut his note pad. “Now that we know most of the facts, we have to prove that you didn’t kill Belinda.”

  “Joe and Belinda,” Silas shuttered. “That’s sickening.” He shook his head and then continued, “How did Joe die? Edna seems to think he was murdered, too.” Silas asked.

  “He shot himself. Well, the sheriff ruled it a suicide, citing the guilt he felt when his stepdaughter was killed for doing what he’d ordered her to do—marry you. It seems strange that he’d shoot himself in the house shared by you and Oliver; most people commit suicide in their own homes. He was found in the same room where Belinda lay dead. Edna thinks your brother, Oliver, killed them both.”

  Silas shook his head. “I would guess someone killed them both, too. So we are really talking about two murders, then and not just one?”

  “Possibly. Except, the authorities said two different guns were used.”

  “So, does Edna think the baby Belinda was carrying belonged to Joe or Oliver—or even me?" Silas asked.

  “That fact can’t be proven, but off the record, Edna thinks it was Joe’s, mainly because of his desperate
and sudden need to quickly marry Belinda off. Of course, it’s possible it could have been Oliver’s, or anyone else’s for that matter, except you, of course. Any father would be anxious to marry off a pregnant daughter.”

  Silas added quickly, “I saw her in Oliver’s bed the day I left. I walked in to tell him something, and there they were, but luckily, neither saw me.”

  Bancroft nodded. “We have no way of knowing if she was intimate with Oliver before that night,” he said.

  “I looked up the record of your marriage, and the date was April 7th. Can you tell me the date you left Kansas City and the date you arrived in Hays?”

  “I left about one in the morning on April 9th, and arrived in Hays on April 12th.”

  “And you bought a house that same day?”

  “Yes.”

  Bancroft strummed his fingers on the note pad. “I think we may have a case. I’m going to do some checking. My strongest argument at present is the dates and times. You see, on Belinda’s death certificate, it says she died on April 9th, but at 9 p.m. You were probably as far as Topeka by then.”

  “I changed horses there.” Silas felt hopeful for the first time in two months.

  “The house staff didn’t see who killed Belinda, but they all heard the shot at that precise time and the coroner verified that time. The shot that killed Joe occurred about ten minutes later.”

  “It’s a puzzle, and we don’t know if we are looking at one or two murders.” Silas said.

  “By the way, would you happen to know the name of the livery where you changed horses in Topeka?”

  “No, but as you ride into town from the east, it’s the first one on the right side of the main street.”

  Bancroft made a few more notes.

  “How far along in her pregnancy was Belinda?” Silas needed to know because Oliver had been seeing her for a month before she died.

  “Four months.”

  Silas grimaced. It had to have been Joe’s baby. The thought turned his stomach. He suddenly felt sympathy for Belinda, a young woman too young to be responsible for resisting an older man’s attentions.