An Owl's Whisper (51 page)

After a moment of silence, Eva said, “I’d never say losing something like an arrowhead is anything like what Franka did, helping the geese. I just don’t want either of you to have to learn it the hard way—that hiding what you’ve done, however big or small, can’t make it go away. I think that’s what Franka would want you to know.”

Cat looked at Françie and bit her lip. “Guess we better go face the music. Mama, you’ll come with us, won’t you? Just in case.”

The girls walked slowly to the front porch. With their mother right behind, they stood before Stan, silent for a moment, holding hands. Finally, after a nudge from her sister, Cat said, “Daddy, we did something really bad, but we’re really sorry, and we really want to confess so it won’t follow us around forever.”

Eva walked around the girls to Stan’s side and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Know Mama’s Pawnee arrowhead? The one we were playing with last night?” Cat cringed. “And you told us to put it up?”

Stan took Eva’s hand and leaned forward. “You mean the one I gave your mother so many years ago? The one so special she keeps it in that box on the mantle? That the one you mean?”

“Yes, sir, that one.” Cat swallowed hard. “I think Françie might have lost it…or maybe it was me. Anyway, we’re really, really sorry, and we know you’ll probably want to paddle us good, ’cuz we didn’t put it up when you told us and Mama liked it so much. But we just thought maybe if we were honest….”

Stan sighed. “Even if I wanted to go easy on ya, losin’ a valuable Indian artifact—that’s a big deal. May have to turn the matter over to the authorities. Folks get jail time for stuff like that.” His look brightened. “Still, you did come clean.” He turned to Jess. “Correct me if I’m wrong, sheriff, but when culprits confess, they sometimes get off light, don’t they?”

“Sure we take it into account,” Jess said, “’specially when we’re partial to the owlhoots that done the lawbreakin’.” He winked at the girls.

Eva squeezed Stan’s hand and said, “Didn’t you tell me once that owning up to your past can sometimes make it disappear?”

Stan sighed theatrically. “Come here you two.” He gathered a girl in each arm and held them close to his chest. “It’s nice that both your mama and the law’s willin’ to cut you some slack. But there’s still the matter of an empty box and a missin’ arrowhead.” Stan slipped two fingers into the breast pocket of his shirt and steathfully pulled the flint point out. Grinning, he flashed it for Eva to see. Palming the arrowhead, he pushed a lock of Françie’s hair aside and fumbled behind her ear. “Well looky what I found hiding back here in this
pommes de terre
garden.” With a
voilà!
he brandished the arrowhead like it was the Hope diamond.

Cat and Françie squealed and hugged their father’s neck.

“Why don’t you two run and get its box from the mantle,” Eva said to the girls. When they’d raced inside the house, she put her arms around Stan’s neck and kissed him. “So, when did you find it,
Monsieur Voilà
?”

“Last night—figured I’d hang on to it till they knew it was missin’.” He grinned. “Let ’em sweat a little.”

When the girls ran back, Cat was holding the box. She took the arrowhead and placed it gently inside. After ceremoniously closing the lid, she bowed and presented the box to Eva.

Françie took Stan’s hand in both of hers. “So Daddy, do you still have to paddle us?”

Stan stroked his chin. “Why don’t we see how good a job you two do, settin’ the table for dinner now and cleanin’ up after? Do that fine, and I reckon, as they say, you’re off the hook.”