By the time people were closing up their shops and families were hurrying home before sunset, Cade was starving. His stomach grumbled for food, and his mood was as sour as an unripe apple. Ben was in an equally bad mood and both men gave each other a grumbled good-bye before walking away from the jailhouse where Cade had filled Ben in on his theory about Phillip.
Cade let his feet drag as he made his way to the town’s stables. Raucous laughter caught his attention, and he looked over at the bright saloon seeming to shake with activity. Cade paused in the street looking around.
No one. Not one soul to see him walk in. No one to tell Rose or Jeffries or anyone. One game would hardly be problematic, and it would make him feel so much better. Didn’t he deserve it? Hadn’t he worked hard to come this far?
Some fragment of his mind told Cade that these were not his thoughts. Still, they pushed through all the barriers he had spent months building.
One game.
You deserve it.
You are a strong man. One time won’t hurt.
Cade walked forward. He was his own person; he could make his own choices whether they were good or bad.
Stop! Stop! His heart pounded with the overwhelming elixir of shame and excitement.
Another step, then another. He could smell the intoxicating scent of liquor. The thrill of potential wins and inevitable losses now swam through his veins beckoning him to join in the rebellious festivities.
STOP!
The order was so strong it was almost audible. Cade gritted his teeth so hard that his pulse throbbed against his skin.
“I have to,” he said out loud. Tears filled his eyes. “It really is like suffocating. I have gone so long without it …” he took another step, and that was when he saw it.
The figure was tall, clad in an expensive dark robe made from material so rich it gleamed. It leaned against the saloon wall, grinning victoriously at those who entered and exited. Cade held his breath as the face turned to him: so beautiful with features that were perfect, and skin as smooth as ivory. The beauty was not that of heavenly design, but so unnatural and completely evil that its grin froze Cade’s blood. The dead eyes focused on Cade and an elegant hand lifted with a long finger curving in a beckoning welcome. Cade shuddered and retreated a step, closing his eyes and shaking his head. When he looked up again the figure was gone.
Cade felt his chest tighten as he looked around, feeling he was being stalked by some being he could not see. Even the cool steel of his pistol did not calm him as he turned and ran to the stables.
/
Jeffries closed his Bible as a frantic knock on his door interrupted his study. He knew who it was before he even opened the door. A knock that loud meant a cow in labor or a man afraid of his own self.
Cade’s face was pale, ragged and lined with the worry of a troubled world. “Jeffries,” he croaked.
The manager smiled and moved aside, “Cider and toast?”
Cade smiled weakly and walked into the humble front room where a warm fire seemed to embrace him with safety and comfort as he invited himself to sit on a cushioned chair. Jeffries said nothing as he went to the kitchen and warmed up a pot of cider.
When Jeffries handed Cade a mug, he sat down on the chair next to the fire and said nothing. He let Cade simply stare into the flames and gather his thoughts as he sipped.
“I almost did it,” Cade finally said.
Jeffries nodded. “It will not be the last time that you almost give in.”
Cade frowned and looked up. “I wanted to so bad; there was the disgust, the shame, but the excitement still remained.” He shook his head. “I’m a pathetic man.”
“You are a man,” Jeffries reminded him. “Weaknesses are part of your humanness; that’s why we can’t do this alone.”
“Will it always be this way? Will it always be a fight? A battle that I am barely winning?”
“For a while, it will be, Cade. However, God gives us weaknesses and it humbles us, then He takes those same weaknesses and makes them our strengths. It takes time, but it can happen if we keep working at it, and that is the key. To keep working no matter how many times we do wrong.”
Cade nodded and took a long drink of his cider. When he lowered it, his fingers tightened around the mug. “I saw … something dark,” he said. “When I began to fall for the need. I have never seen something like it before.”
Jeffries did not look surprised. “Evil things are often disguised with the facades of pleasure, harmless enjoyment, even good intentions. Yet every now and then our eyes are opened. It can be disconcerting.”
Cade let out a wry laugh. “Disconcerting is putting it mildly.” He tilted back his head and let out a long sigh. “So what do I do now?”
“Have you told Rose about almost gambling?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I am just now earning her respect. I don’t want to lose it, nor hurt her.”
Jeffries chuckled. “Don’t justify your shame as protecting your wife. Besides, part of the excitement of vices is the secrecy and rebellion of them. Telling Rose will take away the secrecy of it and in turn, it will soothe the need to gamble.”
Cade squinted at the fire. “What if she decides to leave again?”
Jeffries cocked his head. “Well, I cannot speak for her, but Rose left because she did not want Daisy being around a man who had no intention of changing or accepting Daisy as his daughter. You are changing, and you love Daisy, that much is clear. Have a little faith in your wife’s love for you.” He nodded to Cade’s empty mug, “But first let me get you one more cup.”
“I’m sorry about this,” Cade murmured, accepting another cup of cider. “You have enough with Ben and me asking about Camille, and now this murder with Jim and Theodore.”
“Nothing will make me forget Camille. Those memories have never been put to rest, so stirring them up makes no difference.”
Cade suddenly thought of Daisy, unable to block the terrible thought of losing her. “Ben asked you about the hair?”
“Yes, he did, “Jeffries sighed as if suddenly fatigued. “I never befriended Jim or Theodore, so I told him that his guess was as good as mine.”
“Might not be yours,” Cade offered.
Jeffries shrugged. “Might not. Might be. Might be from a wooly goat.” He laughed and drew his eyebrows together. “You know, a few days ago my door was opened. I thought that maybe I had forgot to lock it, but then I noticed my brush was gone. I only have one and I keep it near my pomade, so it was easy to spot its absence.”
Cade grinned, then his face went serious, “Did you tell Ben?”
He shook his head. “No, I was a bit in shock. I only thought of it just now.” He shook his head. “I know that sounds unreliable.”
Cade leaned back. “I think someone may be wanting to frame you. Someone who knew about how Camille was murdered.”
“That was years ago, though the papers covered it for weeks. Had me down as some Voodoo demon sorcerer. Not that I cared. After Camille was found, nothing much mattered save the relief I could find in a bottle.”
“I’m sorry,” Cade said again.
Jeffries was silent, slowing drinking before looking at Cade, “You have to tell Rose.”
Cade nodded. Jeffries had lost his wife and daughter to death and violence, and Cade had nearly lost his to pride. By confessing to Rose he could still lose her, but not without a fight.