The house wasn’t big enough, not for the eight dogs, including Jethro, crammed into the kitchen and the two patrolmen sleeping in shifts. It had been three days since the mixed labs were poisoned, and Agnes wasn’t about to lose another animal.
The officer sent to talk to James Ruben found a closed tattoo shop and no leads about his current location. Even with a description distributed throughout the state, no one seemed to know where the man was.
Judd grew restless with the waiting and his inability to do much more than bathe, eat and sleep. He barked orders to his men over the phone, chewed out the part-timers working for him on the homestead as they stood at the foot of the bed, and gave Bess a bracing glare every time he saw her shoulders tense in worry.
Sunday arrived with a sense of peace descending on the embattled household. Agnes had managed to loan all her dogs save Jethro to various neighbors, and Judd declared himself fit enough to sit up for church services later that morning. The house was eerily quiet as Bess dressed Daniel in a onesie that used to belong to his namesake and put herself in a maternity garment she had managed to alter for her rapidly slimming figure. Judd, decked out in his Sunday suit, looked almost handsome despite the severe lines of his granite features. He was dear to Bess, anyway.
He moved to grab his Stetson off the bedpost, and Bess saw the flash of the gun at his side. She gave herself credit for not swooning at the thought of Judd walking into the sanctuary with his police issue revolver in its shoulder strap.
“Is that really necessary?” she asked. Despite her worry and no word on Ruben’s whereabouts, other reports about the man depicted him as a model prisoner who, after recovering from his injuries, experienced a reversal of personality traits. One guard at the prison where Ruben did his time claimed that the new James wouldn’t hurt a fly.
“Somebody sent you those threats, Bess, and somebody killed Mama’s mutts. If not James Ruben, then who?” He took out his revolver as if to prove his point and checked the chamber, the click of the mechanism making a loud noise in the otherwise quiet room.
She walked up to him and pulled the sides of his suit coat together, buttoning them as she spoke. “Well, we don’t have to advertise your breaking the law.”
Judd rubbed her upper arms loosely, then gave her a light shake. “Don’t sound so mortified, cupcake. It’s my decision alone and no fault of your own.”
She leaned her forehead against his torso and wrapped her arms around him, leaning into the strength of him. She moved back and forth with the force of his breath. “I’m so tired,” she admitted in a small voice that did not sound like her own.
“I know, baby,” he breathed into her hair. “But it’s all going to be over very soon. I promise.”
When they arrived at the church, Lillian was the first person to see them as they entered the building. She looked like her usual self, and Bess felt her back stiffen as she wondered if the other woman’s apology had truly been genuine. As Bess watched, Lillian stepped up to her, laying a tentative hand on Daniel’s head. “I’m glad to see you all here this morning,” she said, keeping her eyes on the baby’s fuzzy scalp. “How are you doing?”
“We’ve been better,” Judd answered, his voice hard.
Lillian blushed. “I guess that was a stupid question.” She took her hand off Daniel and stepped back, seeming to draw into herself. “I’m glad you all were able to come to church today. You look great, Bess. No one would guess you just had a baby.”
Bess blinked twice before she could respond. Perhaps the other woman’s apology really was genuine. “Thank you, Lillian. You look great, too, as usual.”
Judd placed his hand in the small of Bess’ back. “We better find Mama and get seated,” he told both women.
Lillian took a deep breath and looked Judd in the eyes for the first time. “I’ve already told Bess how sorry I am for my behavior, Judd. I promise if you ever get shot again, I won’t be throwing myself on top of you.”
Bess thought her mouth would unhinge and just managed to keep her lips shut. She looked at the grim set of Lillian’s lips and knew what the confession and apology were costing her. And yet, the otherwise proud woman was humbling herself. Not only was she apologizing for her behavior, she was also being kind to a woman who had essentially stolen the life Lillian wanted to have.
Judd must have been thinking along the same lines because he reached out his other hand and patted Lillian’s shoulder. “I appreciate that, Lillian. It would be a very good thing if we could all be friends.”
Lillian nodded, a sheen of tears glazing her vibrant eyes. “Done,” she managed, then nodded and turned to go to her own seat in the church.
Michael Jones gave a subdued sermon on loving God through good times and bad, on how a grateful attitude at all times draws one closer to the Creator. Bess sat between Judd and Agnes, cradling Daniel to her chest and absorbing the message as she was drinking in the warmth from the two people beside her.
As the congregation filed out of the church, Michelle and her brother Samuel stopped by the pew where the Taylors were sitting. “We’re so glad to see you, Sheriff,” Michelle said. “And how are you, Bess?”
Judd straightened in his seat, and Bess noticed that he was studying Samuel as Michelle waited for Bess to answer. “We’re holding our own, Michelle,” she said. “I hope to be even better soon.”
“Have they heard something about that terrible man who’s been threatening you, then? I’m so glad.”
Bess started, but Agnes explained from behind her. “It’s a small town, Bess, and we’ve been making some pretty big changes around the homestead.”
It made sense, but it didn’t make Bess any more comfortable. Judd stood up suddenly, lifting Bess to her feet with one, large hand under her elbow. He tucked Bess under his arm and stepped into the aisle so that Michelle and Samuel had to take a quick step back.
“Judd still has some resting to do,” Agnes told them.
Samuel stepped in front of Judd, ignoring the black glare and hard set of his shoulders. “Surely, you wouldn’t mind letting the little lady get out of the house for a bit? We’d love to take Bess out for a nice meal. A new mother deserves a break now and then after all.”
Before Bess could answer for herself that she was not interested in any excursions without her husband, that man gave Samuel a look of such restrained fury that the younger man blanched. “We’re going home, Bess,” Judd said, turning away from Samuel, who made a strangled noise deep in his throat.
“We’ll talk to you later, Bess,” Samuel persisted, and Michelle seconded the idea.
Because Michelle had been nothing but kind to her, Bess gave a little wave with her free hand before walking out of the church beside her husband. There was a certain heaviness in the air as they got into the car to ride home. Judd glanced at Bess as he drove. “Why is Samuel so keen on feeding you?” he fairly growled.
Despite the proof from her experiences with Lillian that humility could be a powerful tool in getting along with others, the question made Bess unreasonably angry. “Some men like to look at a pretty face,” she purred.
The car lurched as Judd reacted to the words as much as the tone. Agnes made a noise from the back seat and interrupted. “I have to admit, I didn’t like the nature of that conversation myself.”
Bess had to agree, but she didn’t feel like admitting it. She shrugged. “Samuel has always been like that. I think he speaks before he thinks.” Judd made a noise deep in his throat, and Bess glared at him. “At least he says more than two words at a time,” she told him.
Judd looked as if he would say something, then clenched his jaw shut instead. Bess looked out the window at the sun blazing across the winter landscape, and yet all the light seemed to drain out of the day. She sighed. “I know one thing,” she told the car at large. “He certainly isn’t worth this much discussion. I wouldn’t even be around the man except that he’s related to Michelle.” She turned and looked at Judd, whose eyes were focused on the road. “Should I quit having anything to do with the pastor’s wife?”
Judd shrugged. “Talk with whomever you want.”
Well, she didn’t like that any more than she appreciated his jealousy. The strain of being under guard all the time must be getting to them both. “Well, I only really want to be talking to you, so you’re just out of luck,” she said, reaching across to lay a hand on his thigh.
He glanced at it for a moment before laying one hand over hers and squeezing. “I’m lucky enough,” he said, taking the olive branch, lifting her palm to his lips and then weaving their fingers together.
After a few minutes of silence, Agnes chuckled from the back seat, where she was cradling Daniel and cooing at him, “Well, we’re glad that’s settled, then, aren’t we, Daniel?”
Bess looked over at Judd, who winked at her and went back to studying the road. She relaxed back into the passenger seat and relished these few minutes without the fear of the past days hanging in the air around her. If only she knew there would be a time when she was not living in fear. After all, even if they managed to stop the threats against her, Judd was still a sheriff, subject to being shot any time he went to work.
Some of the Bible readings she and Agnes had studied talked about God giving a kind of peace that would stand against all conflict and sorrow, the things that were part and parcel of a life lived in a fallen world. Was it possible for somebody like Bess to achieve that kind of peace?
Was she capable of giving up the part of herself that Christ required of her? More importantly, despite Agnes’ insistence to the contrary, could a perfect God really forgive the things a so-imperfect Bess had done? The questions continued to haunt her as they arrived home, to discover the single-word description of her past emblazoned across the chimney in large, red letters.
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