Doubting Thomas (Tarnished Saints Series) (8 page)

He closed the door slowly and leaned his head against the wood. If only he could get as close to little Eli as Angeline did in a mere day. Emptiness ate away at his soul, knowing it was his own fault. Ever since he’d found out years ago Fawn was cheating on him, he’d taken out his anger on little Eli by basically pushing him from his life.

He had five sons to be proud of. Five sons from Brianne whom he’d learned to love. But he’d been guarded when it came to Eli. He didn’t think the child was really his, as he and Fawn had been quarreling a lot right after they’d gotten married. And they hadn’t made love much at the time the boy was conceived. This child was unwanted before he’d even been born. And for the first few years of Eli’s life, Fawn did very little to care for the baby. And once Eli was a toddler, she seemed to forget about him altogether.

Thomas did the basics to take care of him, but it was Sam who gave the boy the love he needed, though Sam was still very young himself. Fawn hadn’t wanted Eli, that was obvious. And Thomas couldn’t love the boy fully, as Eli’s presence only reminded him of the cheating wife he never should have married.

Please, give me the strength to look beyond this point and love Elijah like the rest of my sons,
he thought. A knot twisted in his stomach and bile soured on his tongue. Could he be the father that Eli needed in his life right now? Could he raise all six of the boys to grow up on the right path and help them find their way should they ever stray?

How could he, he wondered, when he couldn’t even put himself back on the right path?

“I need a drink,” he said aloud, heading for the shower. The image was burned into his mind of Angeline DeMitri holding Eli’s hand and feeding him cookies. The woman was a stranger to him, yet acted more a parent to his son than he ever had. He wanted her out of here, but now she’d only made things more difficult. He’d meant to scare her when she fell upon his bed, but instead he’d only scared himself.

Leaning over her so closely, her innocent green eyes staring up at him, her flowery essence filling his senses, he was thinking clearly and had almost kissed her. He probably would have, hadn’t Eli shown up at the door. Just one more reason to be angry with the child. Or maybe, he should be thanking him instead. Angeline DeMitri was leading him into temptation and he had never been a strong-willed man where temptation was concerned.

Angel made her way to the barn with Eli in tow right behind her. It did her heart good to see the boy gobble down four cookies. She’d kept talking to him in a soft voice as he ate, and when he wiped the crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand, she could have sworn she saw a slight smile pass his lips.

She saw Daniel first as she entered the barn, waxing the pickup so fast and hard that he’d worked up a good sweat. Zeke was tending to the horses, brushing them, and Sam was tossing hay into their stalls, limping with each pitchfork full he threw. Josh was busy cleaning the inside windows of the truck with vinegar and old newspaper, and Jake had the worst job of all, shoveling up the dung from the horses and placing it into a wheelbarrow.

“Hi!” she said, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Ms. DeMitri,” said Daniel, throwing down his rag and running over to her. “I’m sorry, but we won’t be going to Brighton today after all. My pa sold the car early and caught a ride home with Gus.”

“I know,” she said, with a quick smile. “I found out first hand when I met up with him in the house.”

“You went in our house?” asked Jake, throwing a shovelful of dung into the wheelbarrow. “I hope Pa chewed you out for stepping foot inside. You deserve it.”

“Shut up, Jake,” warned Zeke, looking up from the horse.

“Both of you pipe down,” said Dan, “and let the lady talk.”

“Thank you, Daniel,” she said, which caused a smirk from both the twins at the use of his full name. “Dan,” she corrected herself, trying to sound more casual. “I am sorry it didn’t work out, but it doesn’t matter. And no, Jake,” she said looking at the boy, “he didn’t chew me out. Matter of fact, he was very polite.”

She glanced down at Eli, wondering if he had a way of communicating with his brothers to tell her their dad had been anything but polite. Still, she figured, if they thought their dad approved of her, they’d be more open to accepting her apologies and giving her a chance before they judged her.

She wondered if her stretch of the truth was a lie. No, she decided, it was a matter of opinion. Thomas Taylor was rude and crude, but she’d seen many parents in her occupation that were so much worse. Compared to them, he
was
polite.

“What’s that in your hand?” came Sam’s question.

She looked down to the plate of cookies, still covered, and knew this would be her perfect opportunity to have the boys accept her.

“I brought some cookies as a peace offering for Josh.”

Josh poked his head out of the truck at hearing his name. Now that she had his attention, she moved forward and held out the plate to him.

“I’m sorry for accusing you of throwing the rock,” she told him. “I know now you would never lie. I was much too fast to judge, when I hadn’t the facts. Please accept these chocolate chip cookies as a peace offering between us.”

“Did you say chocolate chip?” he asked, stepping out of the truck and eyeing her curiously.

“I did. Mrs. Ainsley said little Eli used to love her cookies years ago, so I figured the rest of you probably liked them as well.

“I do,” said Josh eagerly reaching for the plate. Just as he was about to grab it, she held it up and out of his reach.

“So, do you forgive me?”

He looked over to Daniel and his older brother gave him the nod of approval.

“Okay,” he said. “Now can I have the cookies?”

She laughed and handed him the plate. He sat down right on the dirt floor and shoved them quickly, one after another, into his mouth. His brothers watched with wide eyes, and Zeke even licked his lips.

“I like chocolate chip cookies too,” Zeke told her, his eyes fastened on the plate which was emptying quickly. Josh didn’t seem to hear him, or maybe he ignored him purposely.

“There’s plenty for everyone,” Angel told them. “And if we run out, I can bring more tomorrow. What do you say, Josh? Will you share your cookies with your brothers?”

Before he could answer, Sam piped in. “Pa won’t like it. I don’t want any.”

“Neither do I,” spat Jake. “I don’t like cookies.”

“You do so,” shouted Zeke. “You just don’t want any because you’re afraid Pa will punish you more than he already has.”

“Punish you? For eating cookies?” she asked.

“Pa found out Jake threw that rock at you and now he’s not only grounded for a week but his chores are tripled,” Dan supplied the information.

“We’re all punished because of you, Dan,” said Jake with malice. “You never should have let her stay here yesterday after Pa told you to make her leave.”

“I had to tell him Ms. DeMitri had been here,” explained Dan. He looked back to Angel. “He got home early today. I was on my way over to the Ainsleys to tell you we wouldn’t be going to Brighton after all, when he stopped me and demanded to know where I was going. I couldn’t lie to my pa.”

“Of course not,” she said with a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “You did the right thing. You boys should never lie.”

That comment got a hrmph out of Jake and a dirty look. She was sure it wasn’t him who told Thomas of his misdoings.

“Here, Ms. DeMitri, have a seat,” said Dan, pulling up an old stool for her to sit on.

“I really can’t,” she told him, seeing her headway with the boys and wishing she could stay. “I have an eight-year-old daughter at the Ainsleys I need to spend some time with.”

“You do?” asked Sam, his head raising to look at her.

“Yes. Her name is Gabby. She’s a tomboy and would love to play with all of you, I’m sure.”

“We don’t play,” mumbled Jake. “We just work.”

“Don’t play?” she asked in surprise. “Why, every child plays.”

“Not the Taylor children,” came a voice from behind her.

She turned to see Thomas standing right behind her. Her heart jumped as she hadn’t even known he’d entered the barn. His hair was wet, and the long strands stuck to his neck, the water dripping down his bare chest. He wore a faded blue jean shirt, unbuttoned and hanging at his sides. He also wore a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee, and they were so worn that she couldn’t tell if they were dirty or clean. He had boots on his feet  -  cowboy boots this time, not work boots. He stood with his hands at his sides, a red bandanna dangling from his fingers.

“Do you mean to tell me these children do nothing but work? You don’t give them time to play?” She stretched out her hand to include all the boys.

“We basically live off the land,” Thomas told her. “This place doesn’t run itself, Ms. DeMitri. It’s a hard life out in the wilderness. We don’t have time for luxuries like toys.”

Angel searched her mind, just realizing now that she hadn’t seen any toys in the house. Even around the barn and outside, there wasn’t a ball or bike to be seen. She wondered if the man could be brought to charges for child labor.

“It isn’t normal,” she told him. “Every child needs to play.”

“My boys have chores to do,” he told her, rolling up the bandanna and fastening it around his head. “So if you’ve made your amends with Josh, I’d suggest you get going before I’m forced to help you off my land.”

She looked back to each and every one of the boys. They busied themselves with their chores and didn’t dare look up. This wasn’t right. Thomas Taylor was some sort of ogre or slave driver, and she didn’t like it a bit. He made them sleep on the floor, and barely fed them. She had sufficient evidence to report him and write up a case on him now. All she had to do was make one simple phone call.

Chapter 8

Thomas finished up his dinner of venison stew, noticing the boys were all extra quiet tonight. They were eating late tonight, nearly 10 pm already, but his being gone yesterday had put them all behind. There was wood to chop and fences to mend. And worst of all, those dang wild dogs had come and stolen two of his chickens while they were harvesting the vegetables out of the garden atop the hill.

He should have shot the blasted things, but he hadn’t had the heart to do it. He saw them from atop the hill slinking away, each with a chicken in their mouth. He’d fired off a shot to scare them off, and they’d ran, but never dropping the hens.

He didn’t need to lose two of his best egg layers. Now they’d be shy over a dozen eggs by the end of the week. He’d had to go to the deep freeze in back of the pole barn and dip into the deer meat he’d put there for winter just days ago. Being frozen, and having no convenient microwave to thaw it out, dinner was way behind schedule.

He looked over to Zeke, playing with the kittens, having barely touched the stew. He noticed Jake spitting something into his napkin, and he just shook his head. Josh, having consumed too many cookies, lay on the couch holding his stomach, no intention of eating his dinner. Sam, the ever obedient son, ate it and tried to make a positive comment about the food. Still, Thomas knew it was only his way of trying to be an example for the rest. His cooking really was that bad.

Little Eli’s head was down on the table, spoon still in his hand, and his eyes closed, as he was already fast asleep atop Sam’s lap. Dan was the only one who actually ate the stew, and had even asked for seconds. But he was a teenager in the middle of a growth spurt and Thomas was sure he’d eat three-day old-porridge and moldy cheese if he had to, and not complain.

“So, why is everyone so quiet tonight?” Thomas asked, pushing the food around the bowl with his spoon.

The boys all looked at each other, and finally Dan spoke up. “Why are you so mean to Ms. DeMitri, Pa? She seems like a really nice lady.”

“Yeah,” said Josh, looking up and still holding his stomach. “She brought me cookies.”

“Cookies that not only gave you a stomach ache, but kept you from eating your supper,” Thomas reminded him.

“Why don’t we ever have cookies?” asked Zeke, batting at a kitten playfully, and pulling his hand away quickly.

“Cookies are no good for you,” Thomas said, polishing off his stew.

“Neither is whiskey,” mumbled Jake without looking up.

“What did you say?” Thomas said, looking up sharply.

“Nothin’,” the boy answered, but it wasn’t to Thomas’s liking. He got to his feet and every eye was on him. Jake looked up, challenge in his eye. He was obviously still mad that Thomas had given him extra chores to do, and the worse ones at that, for throwing the rock at Angeline.

“I don’t like your tone, son. If you’ve got something to say, then say it so I can hear it, or don’t even bother.”

Jake jumped up, his chair falling over in the process. “We all know you have bottles of whiskey hidden everywhere. How come you can drink but we can’t eat candy or cookies?”

“Jake!” Sam blurted out. Zeke looked up, grabbing his kitten and holding it close to his chest.

“Is that how you all feel?” Thomas asked, seeing the fear in Jake’s eyes.

It wasn’t a secret that after Brianne died and he’d found Fawn cheating on him, he’d taken to drinking. He’d never once hit or harmed his children in any way, even when he was drunk. But he had argued violently with Fawn and even thrown things around the cabin in front of the kids. Lord knows he’d been so angry with her at times, the dark thought of actually killing her crossed his mind. But he hadn’t harmed her, and had no part in her murder.

Someone obviously broke into his desk and took his gun the night she’d been shot. It still puzzled him. If someone was trying to frame him, why had they hid the murder weapon?

“We used to eat cookies when Mom was alive,” Sam pointed out.

Thomas knew they were right. He hadn’t had the time to attempt anything like baking, with trying to raise his family, attending to the chores, and refurbishing the cars. He thought he could handle raising the kids alone, but maybe he couldn’t after all.

Fawn was supposed to have solved that problem, but she’d only made things worse. If only he could go back and do things over. If only he could see his mistakes before he’d made them.

“Josh, you and Jake clean up the dishes. Zeke, check the chickens and make sure the gate is secure so those dogs don’t steal another one before morning.”

“It’s Eli’s turn to help with the dishes,” protested Jake.

“Eli’s already sleeping,” said Thomas. “Sam, you get him to bed.”

“Sure, Pa,” said Sam, picking up the boy in his arms.

Thomas headed for the door and Dan followed.

“So how much did you get for the car, Pa?” Excitement showed in his eyes and Thomas knew it was because he’d promised to buy Dan a car once he had enough money. It was time Dan had his own set of wheels, and Thomas knew it. It would help immensely if they had two running vehicles.

Thomas laid his hand on Dan’s shoulder, regretting what he had to tell him.

“I’m sorry, Dan, but I only got four thousand dollars for the car. That will barely cover our property taxes due at the end of the month.”

“But Pa, that car was in prime condition. You told me yourself it was worth close to eight. That’s why we worked so hard. That’s why we stayed up nights trying to make it the best we could.”

“The buyer backed out once he found out who I was. No one wants to buy a car from me when they hear about what happened to Fawn. Brighton’s a small town, son. Word travels fast.”

“So who was the buyer brave enough to offer you half of its worth?”

“Gus took it off my hands. He knew I needed the money.”

“What?” Dan gasped in shock. “Your best friend scalped you? Gus knew darn well the worth of the Chevy.”

“He’s had it rough lately too,” Thomas explained. “That’s all he could afford, and I had no choice but to take it.”

“It’s not fair,” Dan said shaking his head. “This isn’t what we’d planned on.”

“Nothing is ever as we plan. You should know that by now.”

Thomas left him sulking, and headed for the pole barn. He lit a lantern and set it atop his desk. He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and counted the cash. He owed thirty-two hundred in taxes, and the 1980 Grand Marquis he was working on needed a new transmission. He figured that would set him back four or five hundred if he picked one up from the junk yard. That didn’t leave much for Daniel’s birthday coming up next week. The boy was turning seventeen, and Thomas wanted more than anything to be able to give him a car.

If only he hadn’t had such ill luck, he would have been able to sell the Chevy for what it was worth. He’d also been hoping to put away some money every month for Sam’s operation. He had four hundred dollars hidden under his mattress, but an operation like that would cost thousands. Being self-employed, he’d had to cancel his health insurance months ago. He’d get no help from anyone now.

He rubbed a weary hand over his face and fastened his eyes on the top drawer. He pulled out his key ring from his pocket and stuck the key in the lock. Slowly, he opened the drawer, reaching out for the envelope. It almost burned his hand when he picked it up.

Six months now it sat here, and every day he thought about using it to solve his troubles. He flipped open the envelope and carefully grasped the paper between his fingers, slipping the check out to look at it.

The life insurance policy he’d taken out on Fawn just after they’d married was worth one hundred thousand dollars. All he had to do was cash the check and his troubles would be over. So why couldn’t he?

He pushed the check back into the envelope and placed it back in the drawer. That is, back into the exact same spot he used to keep his gun before it disappeared. He slammed the drawer shut and locked it up tight. When was God going to hear his prayers? When would he send him an angel to guide his way and tell him what to do?