A Man With a Pure Heart Read online

  The captain shook his head and said, “So what you’re telling me is that we have a very viable suspect, but no one has laid eyes on him in five years.”

  Samuel nodded. “Yes, sir, that pretty much sums it up.”

  “All right, then, you are the lead investigator. You know what to do. Get moving, and keep me posted. As soon as you have worked up a profile and have a drawing, let me know.” The captain smiled as he stood. “That’s some good work, son.”

  “Yes, sir, thank you. I may need to spend a few days in the woods around the cabin area, sir.”

  “I suspected you might. Just let me know if you need a deputy to go with you.”

  Captain Lance sat back down. The boy had become a man with talents, just as the captain had suspected he would. He remembered when he’d first met Samuel. He’d known from that first day that there was something deep in the young man, something that drove him to uphold right against wrong. It was an inner conviction that must be born into a man, not something you could teach at an academy. Captain Lance was grateful to have the young man on his staff and was not above using the boy’s odd talents to the fullest if it would bring down a woman-killer.

  Samuel spent the day assembling the known facts about the man called Nash, all the while trying not to think about what he must tell Kathleen this evening.

  First, the man was vicious. He was a loner, separated from his kind. Samuel was not aware of any gathering of Choctaw in the area. Nash hunted, grew tobacco, and made liquor. And beat women and children. There were no laws against any of the three, yet. You could beat a woman and get away with it, as long as you didn’t kill her, but this man had made that mistake, maybe more than once, in Samuel’s territory. And he would pay for that mistake.

  Nash was not a known hunter in the area, so that was a dead end. If he made moonshine, he had to sell it somewhere. That was a lead to be looked into, but for now, Samuel would stop by the Emporium and speak with Emma before he visited the schoolhouse.

  ****

  Emma was trying hard not to let her fear overwhelm her good sense.

  “I understand, Samuel. It’s just that I had adjusted to the idea that I would never have to concern myself with that animal again.”

  When Samuel started to speak, she shook her head. “I know, I know, this is the best way to find him. And I will go tomorrow and speak with the artist. I promise.”

  Samuel stood and placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder.

  “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, Emma. You’ve done a damn fine job of raising Jimmy. You’ve worked hard and learned so much since you arrived at the village. Don’t let this undermine everything you’ve become.”

  Emma’s eyes followed Samuel as he climbed into his motorcar. The Lord had made a special creature when he fashioned Samuel. He’d given the young man a respect and love for all women, all wrapped up in a need to protect. Someday, he would put his pure heart in some woman’s hands. Emma just hoped the woman was wise enough to understand the depth of such a sacred gift.

  ****

  Children were streaming out of the little school building when Samuel slowed the motorcar to a stop out front.

  When Kathleen detected the engine over the chatter, she immediately put a hand up to smooth her wild curls. She laughed out loud at the wasted foolishness of that gesture, but she was glad she had worn one of her prettier dresses. It was a dark peach, with elbow length sleeves and a beautiful piece of cream lace at the throat.

  Samuel stopped at the top stair and ran a hand through his hair. He was stalling. He reminded himself this was police business. Even so, he could not stop the tightening in his chest when Kathleen’s cheeks took on a soft pink hue.

  “Hello,” he drawled. “Would you like a ride home?”

  “That would certainly be nice,” she answered softly. “Just let me gather my things.”

  Samuel’s eyes never left her as Kathleen locked the doors and glided down the stairs. She functioned gracefully, without a lot of frivolous motion, which was unusual for such a tall woman. He caught himself watching the rhythmic sway of her hips and immediately lowered his eyes and opened the door for her. This was no time to let his mind wander.

  After they were settled in the motorcar, Kathleen said, “I was planning on having pancakes for supper, if you’d care to join me. I picked up some cane syrup from the Emporium that I think your brother may have given them.”

  Samuel laughed. “Yep, he supplies the Emporium with cane syrup and honey, and I’d be happy to have pancakes with you.”

  Once they were in the kitchen, Kathleen handed Samuel a butcher knife and nodded toward the pantry. “How about slicing a couple of strips off the ham hanging in there, while I get the batter ready.”

  Neither of them spoke for a while. The intimacy of working together in the kitchen was pleasurable. Samuel laid the table as Kathleen pulled the platter of pancakes out of the oven and placed it in the center. When she turned to fetch the fried ham, she ran into his solid chest.

  They were only inches apart.

  Samuel was drawn to the flush in her cheeks. He extended a finger to brush a sprinkle of flour from her jaw. When he touched her face, her eyes closed, and she drew in a quick breath. She turned her cheek to the curve of his hand, and Samuel was lost. He lowered his mouth to hers and held her gently against his body. The kiss was long and sweet and gentle, like a soft rain in the sunshine. When he finally raised his head, a long sigh escaped her lips.

  “Food,” he whispered over her head. “We need food.”

  Kathleen laughed weakly. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

  Samuel took her hand as they sat across from each other. He lowered his head and asked a blessing over the food they had prepared together. “Lord, bless this food, and the woman who has prepared it. Thank you, Lord, for this and all our many blessings.”

  “Amen.” Kathleen whispered with him.

  Samuel wanted to wait until later to discuss business, so they spent a pleasant half hour talking about her students and his family. Once the table was cleared and the dishes in a pan of hot water, he took her hand and led her to the settee in the parlor.

  They sat together, and he put his arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him questioningly.

  Samuel drawled softly, “Would you mind if I just held you in my arms for a few quiet moments?”

  Kathleen turned toward him and stretched an arm across his broad chest. “I think I could stand that for a while,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. She was thinking she could spend the rest of her days being held by this man, when Samuel cleared his throat.

  “Kathleen, I have some information for you.” The softness had left his voice, and his arm tightened around her.

  He was speaking in his “official” voice, and as much as she wanted to preserve this moment of peacefulness, she needed to hear him.

  She sat up straighter, raised his arm from around her shoulders and gripped his hand tightly. “Go ahead.”

  He explained to her everything he had learned about the man who’d killed her sister.

  Chapter Eight

  It was a beautiful fall day, with the wildflowers putting on the last show of the year, splashing color here and there across the open fields.

  To Kathleen, it seemed ironic that all this beauty should be on display for her as she rode to the manor to learn to kill.

  She turned to look at Samuel as he drove. This man who evoked such joy and passion in her was going to spend the afternoon teaching her to use a gun. A long sigh escaped her.

  Samuel turned toward her, and the sadness of her eyes told him she was thinking of Mary Elizabeth.

  “I wish I had been able to teach her,” he said softly, as he laid his hand over hers on the seat.

  Kathleen inhaled sharply. How did he know? How did he know what she was thinking? She experienced a strange lightness in her mind, as if a slight breeze was echoing thru her head. She closed her eyes for a moment,
and a warm peace settled over her. She imagined there was a woman whispering in her ear.

  “All will be well, dear one. You will be safe with him.”

  Kathleen opened her eyes to see that the motorcar had stopped at the village. The shouts of the children seemed to come from far away. She looked at Samuel.

  “Did you have a nice nap?”

  “Did I sleep?”

  “Yes.” Samuel grinned. “You had a nice little nap. Don’t worry. All will be well.”

  Kathleen drew a sharp breath. “What did you say?”

  Samuel stopped grinning at the sound of confusion in her voice.

  “I said all would be well.”

  “I…thought I heard…” She broke off as her voice faded.

  He touched her face gently as he repeated, “All will be well. Don’t fret.”

  The children had been hanging clothes, and Kathleen could hear Mrs. Peters yelling over their excited squeals as she and Samuel stepped out of the motorcar.

  “Do not drop those towels on the ground! Be careful. Don’t trip over those baskets!” She finally recognized the futility of shouting as the children swarmed over Samuel.

  After a few minutes for them to roughhouse with him, Mrs. Peters shooed them back to their chores, leaving only Celia, her mother Louise, and Kathleen to follow Samuel across the empty field to the shooting range.

  Samuel was patient and took his time with the women. Kathleen and Celia were both quick to pick up on the tips he gave them for accuracy.

  “Ma’am, you need to tuck that shotgun a little tighter into your shoulder. You don’t want it to slip when it recoils. It could bust your chin.”

  Louise tightened her hold on the Browning Auto-5, and sighted down the barrel. The noise of the blast startled a flock of crows that flew away squawking their displeasure at being disturbed.

  “There.” Samuel smiled. “Was it as bad as you feared it would be?”

  Louise laid the gun down gently on the stand Samuel had built. She rubbed her shoulder carefully. “It was louder than I reckoned it’d be, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be bruised tomorrow, but I think I can stand all that, if it means I can scare away some no-good varmint.”

  Samuel spent another three hours making sure all three women could load, unload, and clean both the shotgun and the Smith & Wesson revolver.

  ****

  It was a beautiful Monday morning, with cool air not yet heated by the fall sunshine, and Samuel wished he could take Kathleen for a drive instead of passing out flyers to business owners.

  Emma had made good on her promise to come down to headquarters and help Edith Hampton with creating a likeness of the possible suspect. The drawing was a good match. When he looked at it, Samuel could still see the angry hulk holding the arm Mae had clipped with her little beauty. Well, the man had to be getting some supplies from somewhere, and someone was bound to recognize him, so Samuel would spend the day informing business owners what to do if he was spotted.

  It was early afternoon, and the air had warmed considerably, when Samuel got around to Hamish McDuff.

  When Samuel entered the office, he was met by a short, barrel-chested man with ginger hair and beard. The man had on a leather apron and was shouting instructions at the top of his lungs. While waving his arms for emphasis, he caught sight of Samuel in the doorway.

  Hamish had never had trouble with the law and did not intend to start now. His eyes went to the badge on Samuel’s chest, and he immediately waved his worker back to the warehouse.

  “Weel, good day to ye, Officer. What can I be doin’ for ye this fine afternoon?”

  Samuel stretched out his hand as he introduced himself. “My name is Detective Hinton, sir, and I am meeting with all the local businesses to inform everyone that we are looking for the suspect in the death of Mary Elizabeth Campbell.”

  Hamish nodded. “Ach, the wee little schoolteacher. ’Twas an ugly thing, that. And you say you’d be havin’ a suspect?”

  “Yes, sir, I have a flyer here that we would like you to show all your workers. If anyone has any information about this man, we need to know it.” Samuel handed the flyer to Hamish.

  Hamish took the flyer, unfolded it, and stared at it for several seconds. His heart began to pound so strongly he was sure the detective could hear it. Sweat began to gather in the small of his back.

  He looked up at Samuel with a steady gaze. “Weel, I’ll be passin’ this on to me people, and mayhap someone can he’p ye.”

  “So you’ve never seen the man before?”

  “Iffen I have, I cannot say,” Hamish replied.

  The average person would have found nothing amiss in his reply; however, Samuel was not the average person.

  Samuel leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms over his wide chest, and said, “I see.” He continued to look at the little Scotsman.

  Hamish could feel the pace of his own breath quicken, and the sweat was beginning to bead on his brow. He did not break his gaze with the tall man, even though he was afraid those gold eyes could see into his soul. He sent up a quick prayer to St. Augustine of Hippo, then turned and placed the flyer on his desk.

  “I’ll be sure to see that each and every one of me folks take a gander at this.”

  Samuel grasped the doorknob but paused for several seconds. “I would consider it a personal favor, sir. I mean to catch the man before he can harm another woman. Any help will be greatly appreciated. Good day, sir.”

  Hamish had seen the knuckles turn white as the big man squeezed the handle, and now he dropped heavily into his chair as the door closed behind the detective. Saints preserve us. There was no doubt in his mind that his supplier was the man the detective sought, but what to do? Turn him in? Warn him away? The man made him a lot of money, but Hamish was aware an association with the man might cost more than he was willing to pay.

  The dark of the moon was still two weeks away, so he had some time to cipher out how he would handle it.

  ****

  The woman lifted the end of the bedstead for the fifteenth time. She could tell her arms had strengthened over the last month. The cabin was small, but she paced from side to side every chance she got. She kept a length of cotton, torn from her dress, under the mattress. She wrapped it around her ankle to keep the chain from chafing when she paced. She was determined to be strong enough to survive her run, for there would be no turning back. Once she broke for it, she had to make it good. He would kill her if he caught her.

  He had grabbed her two nights past and fondled her breast for a moment, then placed his hand on her stomach. She had been afraid she would vomit. He knew. He knew about the baby.

  She rubbed a hand over the small mound and whispered softly, “Don’t worry, little one. We won’t be here much longer. Mama’s gonna find you a better life.”

  ****

  “So. You think McDuff may know our suspect?”

  “Well, sir, he was mighty nervous about something. He didn’t flinch when he studied the flyer, but he did have trouble making eye contact afterwards. Could be he’s just dealin’ in some shady business and doesn’t want the taxman nosin’ around, but he was sure uncomfortable for some reason.”

  Captain Lance agreed with Samuel. It would be wise to keep an eye on McDuff for a while. If Samuel believed something was off, then the captain certainly would not argue. He’d trusted the young man’s instincts for several years, and he could think of no reason to doubt them now. The patrol sergeant would have someone swing by McDuff’s regularly for a few weeks.

  Chapter Nine

  Hamish poured himself two fingers of brandy and downed it in one gulp. He would be glad to have this over and done with. He was tired of the stress of worrying over it. He’d decided on a course of action and would stick to it. When the great beastie showed up, Hamish would hand him his payment, along with the flyer, and tell him there would be no more deliveries. Surely the man would see the wisdom of making himself scarce. Tomorrow or the next night, and then
it would all be over.

  ****

  Several miles away, Nash was filling the empty earthenware jars. Tomorrow night he would deliver them to the “cinnamon man.” That was his name for the man who bought the “lightning” in a jar. Nash figured he needed the money from five more deliveries. Then he was taking the woman and his son west. He would have enough saved to head to Louisiana and buy some land. He had family there, distant cousins, but Choctaw, just the same. He would be accepted because he would have a son who would grow up in the tribal family.

  The sound of the wagon outside alerted the woman, and she hurried to put the bread on the table. She could never tell what mood he would be in, and could not afford to anger him at this point. Sometime in the next couple of nights he would be leaving, and she needed to be physically able to run. Few words ever passed between them, so there had been no mention of the baby. She lived in fear he might decide to rid her of it. She was aware of the scuff of his moccasins just before the door flew open. She allowed herself one quick glance to try to determine his state of mind.

  No matter how hard she tried to hide it, she often shuddered at the sight of him, not that he was grotesque or anything. He was just so big and savage.

  When all the food was on the table, she spoke. “I need to get water and empty the slops.”

  Nash pulled a rawhide cord from inside the neck of his shirt and used the key on the end to open the lock holding the chain to the iron bedstead.

  The woman gathered in the eight feet of chain still attached to her ankle and balanced it across her shoulder as she picked up the slop bucket in the other hand. Once she was free from this place, she would never again use a slop bucket to pee in, she vowed to herself. She carried the bucket across the clearing and dumped the contents in the large hole she had dug. She hurried to the well and drew up a cool, clear pail of water. She poured this into the slop bucket and returned to the hole in the ground to pour out the water. It was as close to cleanliness as she could hope for, here, but soon that would change. She returned to the well and raised a bucket of water for the cabin.