A Walk In Heaven (Volume 1) (The Grayson Brothers) Read online

  Careen mumbled Amen as gratitude – and guilt – choked her throat. How sweet of Matthew’s father to pray for her, yet her conscience nagged that they only did this because they didn’t know about Luther.

  Finally Elizabeth lifted her head and met Careen’s eyes. “My dear, how was your train ride?”

  “Long, but fine, thank you.” Careen placed the linen napkin on her lap. “The porters and conductor were very accommodating, I must say. They treated me with respect.”

  “The last train ride I took,” William added, “I noticed how very polite the porters were, as well.”

  She smiled and nodded, realizing this conversation was almost as uncomfortable as talking about the weather to strangers. Then again, that’s what she was to them.

  “I must compliment your beautiful ranch. Granted, I’ve never set foot in one before, but truly, your land is amazing, and so very beautiful. Literally, seeing it for the first time took my breath away.”

  William and his sons puffed their chests, resembling proud peacocks, and rightly so since they had done an exemplary job keeping their ranch in tip-top condition.

  “So Careen,” Peter spoke. “What part of the south are you from?”

  “Charleston, South Carolina, born and raised, in fact.”

  Peter shook his head. “That would have had to be a very difficult time during the war.”

  “It was, indeed.” She switched her attention to Joshua. His arched eyebrow reminded her how she didn’t want to talk about her life in Charleston to him. Dare she give the rest of the family the excuse she gave their older brother? Then again, Joshua was already upset at her and she didn’t want to make the others mad.

  Making a quick decision, she focused back on Peter and continued. “Pa had died during the battle of Petersburg, and not long after that, my ma died from a lung ailment she’d had for a few years.”

  “Gracious, child,” Elizabeth gasped, reached across the table and clasped Careen’s hand. “That is awful. What painful memories you have.” Mrs. Grayson’s gaze swept around the table. “So I say we don’t talk about this subject now and upset our guest.”

  Careen sighed with relief as she slipped a slice of cheese in her mouth.

  “Forgive me for bringing it up,” Peter said.

  “No need to forgive. You didn’t know.” Careen smiled.

  She reached for the picture of lemonade, but Peter snatched it first since his arm was longer.

  “Allow me,” he said with a grin, and poured the drink into her cup.

  “Thank you.” She smiled.

  “Careen,” Gage began this time, “Joshua mentioned that you lived in Iowa with your relatives.”

  Inwardly, she groaned. Another topic she’d rather not discuss. “Yes, I did. Uncle Henry and Aunt Charlotte Kennedy.”

  “Kennedy? I recently met a man from that area. I wonder if he’d know the Kennedys?”

  She seriously hoped not. “I couldn’t say. My aunt and uncle were very prominent in the community. My uncle owned quite a bit of property and was abundantly wealthy for a time. There is a good chance your acquaintance would have known them or at least heard of them.” She didn’t dare tell the Graysons that after Uncle Henry died, his incompetent son slowly depleted most of their wealth because of the shady deals he’d made.

  “I’ll certainly have to ask him.” Gage’s eyes twinkled when he stared at her.

  Careen pointed to the beans. “Would you pass me—”

  “Of course,” Gage answered quickly. In his haste to reach for the bowl, he nearly toppled over his drink. His cheeks flared red and he chuckled.

  She tried not to smile over his behavior. And even Peter seemed a little taken with her. It pleased her to know at least she had somehow impressed them and they didn’t hold the same grudge as their older brother.

  A hush fell around the table as everyone continued to eat. This time when their attention fell upon her, she didn’t feel uncomfortable, but elated instead. Through their smiles, she could actually feel their acceptance.

  Just as peace settled in her heart, her nagging conscience returned, reminding her that she needed to tell them about Matthew’s death. What really happened when they’d exited the church.

  Then again, was this the time to mention it? After all, they were eating, and because this subject would be very upsetting, perhaps now wasn’t the time.

  She continued to hold the truth inside for now. Later…there would be time to confess later. Today? Maybe, but only when the time was right.

  When the meal was finished, Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Shall we adjourn to the parlor now?”

  William jumped from his chair and pulled his wife’s chair out, helping her to stand. Careen smiled over this gentlemanly act. Never had her father been so attentive to her mother. And for certain, her uncle had never been so gallant toward his wife.

  Just as Careen moved to stand, Peter stood beside her, helping her out just as she’d witnessed William assist his wife. Happiness tugged at her heart, and made her grin.

  The older woman linked her arm through Careen’s as they left the dining room and entered the parlor. The Grayson men came in together, and Joshua’s twins clasped their father’s hands as they followed.

  Careen shouldn’t have been surprised to see such luxury in one room, but she could live in the parlor alone and never want to leave. Maroon, green, and silver decorated the room. Matching couches and love seats, and even end tables appeared to have cost a pretty penny. A small piano that appeared untouched sat near the window. Everything in this room appeared expensive – and untouched. She feared if she even breezed her fingers across anything she’d dirty or break it.

  Elizabeth sat first, and Careen carefully scooted beside her. The men took their chairs, except for Joshua who stood by the window. The twins sat on the floor by their grandfather’s feet.

  The older woman patted Careen’s hands folded in her lap. “I have been anticipating this moment since I received your telegram. I’ve always wanted a daughter.” Her smile broadened.

  Curiosity niggled at Careen. What about Joshua’s wife? Hadn’t Elizabeth felt that she had a daughter during that time? “Thank you. I have been very nervous about meeting the family – because of the horrid circumstances, of course.”

  Elizabeth’s smile slowly faded. “That’s understandable. However, I hope you don’t feel nervous now.”

  “A little.”

  “Will you tell me what happened with Matthew? How it happened?” The older woman’s voice tightened and the few lines in her face deepened as sadness consumed her expression.

  Despair shot through Careen. Her heart clenched with indecision. It was too soon to tell the family what really happened. If she confessed the truth, by this time tomorrow, she and Betsy would be heading back to Iowa. And what if Mrs. Grayson’s heart couldn’t take the news? Still, the family needed to know, and Careen prayed Elizabeth’s heart wouldn’t fail now.

  Before she could speak, however, Joshua moved away from the window and grasped his daughter’s hands.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to take the girls outside and play with them for a while.” He gave his mother a knowing wink.

  “Of course, my dear.” Elizabeth nodded.

  Careen then understood. Little ears shouldn’t hear what she would tell them about Matthew’s death.

  She gulped down the fright and uncertainty racing through her and waited for Joshua and the twins to leave the room. “Did Matthew mention we had been corresponding through letters the past few months?”

  Frowning, Elizabeth shook her head. “Unfortunately, Matthew didn’t say anything about that. It was Joshua who told us, and he only knew because he caught his brother the night he left.”

  Careen took a deep breath. “Well, I listed myself in the newspaper as a mail-order bride. Since my parents died during the war, I’ve been living with my aunt and cousin. I won’t go into details, but my life has not been very happy.” She switched he
r attention to the beautiful room, slowly scanning everything she’d taken in when she first walked in. Peter and Gage were now staring at the floor, frowns creasing their faces.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “Matthew met me the day before we were to marry in Pierre, South Dakota. We spent the day together and purchased my gown. Bright and early the next day, we met at the church. It was a lovely ceremony, even though it was just the two of us. We walked out after exchanging vows, happy and anxious about our future.”

  Slowly, the scene played in her head again, bringing back the same fear and sadness as it had while living it. “Across the street from us two drunks stumbled out of a bar and started shooting. Other men in town fired their guns to try and stop the chaos. Matthew tried to protect me – tried to get us out of there, but a bullet hit him in the head and killed him instantly.” Her voice broke as tears swam in her eyes.

  Elizabeth enfolded Careen in her arms, clung to her, and cried. Her mother-in-law’s tears dampened Careen’s cheek.

  “Oh, dear Lord,” William muttered with a cracked voice. “My poor, brave boy.”

  “Matthew must have loved you so much he wanted to protect you.” Elizabeth whispered brokenly.

  Careen glanced across the room to Peter and Gage. Tears had welled in their eyes. Peter sniffed and with a handkerchief, wiped his nose.

  William cleared his voice. “We’ll never know why the Lord decided to end our son’s life in such a way.” He sniffled.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Who would know which man’s bullet ended our son’s life? But we must trust that the Lord knows all things.”

  “A stray bullet from a gunfight,” Gage muttered. “Ma, discovering which man actually shot Matthew would be nearly impossible.”

  Shaking her head, Careen pulled back to correct them, but just as she opened her mouth, her mind stopped her. What would it hurt to let them believe it was the stray bullet that killed Matthew? After all, Luther’s trial would eventually prove that he was the one who shot the gun, but until then, nothing was conclusive. Even though Mr. Rader said he’d witnessed Luther doing the actual crime, Luther never did admit to killing Matthew.

  Not only that, but the family was so distraught with this news. And what about Elizabeth’s poor heart? Careen couldn’t tell them her evil cousin had planned to kill their son for marrying her. News such as this would nearly destroy the Graysons.

  As much as she needed to tell them, she’d put it off a few more weeks. That gave her more time to get to know Matthew’s family, and especially more time for them to mourn. By then, Careen would know more about Luther’s trial and be able to give the family more information.

  She nodded. “You’re right, Elizabeth. Only the Lord knows, and we must trust Him.”

  The older woman gave her a tender smile and dried her wet eyes with the edge of her apron. “No more talk of that now. I’m weary of crying.”

  “As am I.”

  “Come, I’ll show you and your maid to your bedrooms. I’m certain you’re weary from the trip.”

  “Very much so, thank you.”

  As Careen followed her mother-in-law, relief swept over her – small as it was – that she hadn’t confessed the whole story yet. Still, there was time, she reasoned. But for now, she’d let them believe what they had when jumping to conclusions.

  * * * *

  “You have the wrong man,” Luther grumbled, repeating the phrase he’d been saying for five days while locked up in the small jail cell.

  The stench of urine in this pit-hole was enough to choke any man to death. Criminals had no need for a trial in this rat-infested place. They were punished by just breathing. Luther came to the conclusion that either the former occupant had a bladder problem, or it was the sheriff and deputies who took it upon themselves to discipline their victims in such a grotesque fashion.

  “Mr. Kennedy, you’re wasting your breath.” The deputy lifted the newspaper he’d been reading a little higher as so not to look at Luther. The young man then raised both legs to prop on the corner of the wooden desk. “But if you feel like it’s going to do you any good, then keep on wasting it. Your life is limited now, anyway. After the trial, you’ll be hung for murder. I’d think you would want to spend these remaining few days of your life doing something else like begging for forgiveness. But…it’s your choice, I suppose.”

  If only Luther could wrap his fingers around the man’s scrawny neck… “I’m waiting for one of you so-called lawmen to see the truth. That’s why I keep repeating myself. I haven’t done the crime, I tell you!” Luther waited for the deputy to dispute, and when he didn’t, Luther continued. “Your eyewitness is blind. Men his age usually can’t see their own hand. I have an alibi. The conductor at the train station will tell you I wasn’t even close to the church around the time Mr. Grayson was killed.”

  The deputy whistled out of his lips a familiar tune as he tapped his foot in rhythm. Luther seethed. That imbecile was still ignoring him. Out of all the idiots that worked in the jail, this one would have been the easiest to convince of his innocence.

  Luther gripped the steel bars. He needed to break out. Today. His trial grew closer and if something drastic didn’t happen soon, he’d be hanged for murder. He’d been studying the sheriff and deputies closely in the past few days, and Luther’s scheming mind tried to come up with a plan to break free.

  Time wasted away quickly, and Careen’s inheritance became further and further out of his reach – as well as the shipment he’d arranged a few months ago. If he didn’t have the money on delivery day, all of his plans from the past couple years would be all for naught. If this deal went through, he’d be one of the richest, and most powerful men in the south. He’d have enough money at this point in his life to put some of the law on his payroll. Then the threat of going to jail would be a thing of the past.

  The front door creaked open and Luther scowled at the rotund woman bringing in the afternoon meal. For five days he’d received his lunch right at twelve o’clock. Today, she was ten minutes late. That was not acceptable!

  The plain, freckled faced woman took a quick peek in his direction, then jerked her gaze back to the deputy.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said. “Horace had problems at the restaurant.”

  The young, fresh behind the ears deputy, dropped his feet from the desk and folded the paper neatly before placing it on the desk. “Is there a problem, Miss Bingham?”

  “Not anymore. Horace’s son fixed the stove and everything is in working order.”

  She waddled to the table and set the tray of food down on the flat surface. The scent of beef stew drifted through the air directly to Luther’s nostrils. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. His stomach growled, and he couldn’t wait to feast upon the food.

  “Will that be all for you, Deputy Carson?” She presented a wide smile, displaying crooked teeth, as she swiped her hand over the knot pulling her hair tight at the back of her head.

  “Yes, it is, Miss Bingham. Give Horace my thanks for another meal.”

  “I will.” She spun back toward the door and hobbled out, not once glancing Luther way.

  Deputy Carson picked up the bowl of soup and swaggered to the cell. “You know these instructions by heart. Hands in the air where I can see them and step to the corner.” He withdrew his keys from his belt loop.

  Lifting his hands, Luther did as was told. The sheriff and the deputies performed this ritual with every meal – for their protection, they’d told him. Luther studied Carson as he unlocked the cell and withdrew his gun. Carefully, he brought in the bowl of stew and set it on the small cot. Keeping his eyes on Luther, he backed out of the cell and locked it.

  Slowly, Luther lowered his hands. “You act like I’m going to attack you or something,” he grumbled. “I wish I could make you believe that I’m harmless. Yet, here I sit in this cell that’s not fit for even rodents, while the real killer is on the loose.” He shook his head. “You’re not a very good deputy if you can’t see
you have the wrong person.”

  “Kennedy, just shut up and eat. The longer you talk, the colder your food will get. Then you’ll be belly achin’ about that as well.”

  Luther couldn’t take another minute of trying to be nice to the man. Glaring at the deputy, he yanked up his bowl and spooned the food into his mouth like a starving man. Breathing in quickly, a piece of food caught in his throat, so he coughed it out.

  An idea sprang to his mind and he stilled. He turned his attention to the deputy who apparently didn’t notice he had started to choke. Now, Luther had an idea. With any luck, it would get him out of here for good.

  Simulating a racking cough, he dropped the bowl. The stew spilled out as the bowl broke into pieces. He landed on his knees and clutched his throat, forcing himself to hold his breath long enough for his face to turn red.

  When that didn’t get a response from the deputy, Luther pounded on his chest and gurgled noisily. Finally, Deputy Carson’s gaze moved to Luther. An irritated expression crossed the lawman’s face. Luther didn’t stop, but continued in his choking fit, playing it to the hilt.

  When he couldn’t take anymore, he collapsed to the ground. Keeping still, he closed his eyes and listened.

  Boots clamored on the floor and jingling of keys let Luther know the deputy was finally coming to provide aide.

  Just as Carson turned Luther over on his back, he grabbed the deputy by the neck and squeezed. The other man struggled for his gun, but Luther forced him on the ground, slamming his head against the wooden floor.

  Not daring to release his tight hold on Carson’s throat in case the other man was pretending like Luther had been, he studied the man whose breath was slowly ceasing. After a few moments, Luther couldn’t detect a pulse, so he released the deputy.

  Quickly, before anyone could discover what he’d done, he grabbed Carson’s gun, the keys, and backed out of the cell. Once the cell was locked, Luther grabbed a rifle off the wall and more bullets.