Chapter Thirty-Seven
Days went by; long hours of impasse. Sarah stood at the parlor window, admiring the glorious early autumn colors. Warm sunshine filtered through tree branches of bright yellow and gold; the scent of burning leaves was a pleasant reminder of nature’s cycle.
She sighed. She had been so certain that it would be only a matter of time before she was back in Walker’s good graces, yet her time at Spring Grass was waning. Nothing she said or did had made the least difference to him. At times she’d caught him looking at her, studying her rounding belly, his face an emotionless mask. Her love refused to die; his would not surface.
Sarah rose early to eat with Walker. At first he had refused to sit at the table with her. He’d stride straight through the kitchen, reaching for a biscuit on his way out the back door. Sometimes he acknowledged her; more often he didn’t. Eventually, hunger got the best of him and he began eating supper in the dining room. She cherished those brief interludes because they represented one of the few times she was alone with him. Communication was limited with Flo acting as mediator. Walker wasn’t rude; he just wasn’t there. Somehow he’d removed himself from the situation, and she envied him. She wished she could do the same, but day in and day out, memories of their love haunted her.
This morning the crisp fall air and her rapidly expanding middle made it hard to get out of bed. She dressed in half darkness, and as she slipped into her boots she realized that before much longer Flo would have to help her lace them. Happiness bubbled inside her as she felt the growing roundness of her stomach and the tight skin covering the child being formed. Then the futility of the situation hit her, and she lay across the bed, Papa’s parting stern warning in her ear. You will never be able to walk away from that child, Sarah Elaine. Never.
But she would. As much as she cherished the new life growing inside her, she was strong, capable of keeping her promise. It would be better for the child to think he or she didn’t have a mother than for Sarah to remain and have her son or daughter witness a loveless marriage. The realization brought tears to her eyes, and the bed shook with the force of her sobs. By the time she could control herself to rise and leave the room, she was exhausted from her emotional burden.
Flo was scrambling eggs when Sarah rounded the kitchen corner. She was ravenously hungry these days, and as she walked into the kitchen she eyed the mound of sausage and biscuits. The aroma of eggs fried in butter captivated her.
“Everything smells so good! I’m famished.” She plucked a biscuit from the pile and peeled apart a hot, flaky layer. Steam rose from the bread and she sniffed appreciatively. “Who would think that it took this much food to feed one little baby?”
Flo smiled and ladled eggs into a white bowl. Sarah downed the biscuit and reached for a second one.
“Yer eyes are red as a beet. Have you been crying?”
Biting into the biscuit, Sarah nodded. “I think something’s wrong with me. One minute I’m happy, the next I’m crying. I can’t seem to stop once I get started, and I never know what’s going to set me off. Yesterday I was watching Potster carry eggs from the chicken house into his kitchen, and all I could think of was how those mother hens would never know their babies because they would be eaten even before they hatched. I couldn’t stop crying about it. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
Flo chuckled. “All part of having a young’un. You cry and laugh at the same time. There’s no particular reason for either.”
“Eventually, though never soon enough.”
Sarah tried to laugh, but she ended up bursting into tears. Flo laid the spoon aside and stepped around the table to embrace her. Sarah sank into her warmth, grateful for the kindness. It seemed years since she’d had any physical contact with another human being, and Flo’s hug was like manna from heaven. The older woman stroked her hair lovingly.
“Flo, will he ever love me again?”
“I don’t know, honey. I really don’t know. I’ve never seen Walker this stubborn about anything but love. You’ve got to hold on to hope. If you lose that, you don’t have anything.”
After drying her eyes Sarah went to the dining table, where she prepared a plate heaped with eggs and sausage. She glanced up as the object of her misery strode in, yawning. She sank into her chair. Former concerns about baby chickens and their unfortunate demise forgotten, she used the edge of a biscuit to herd a few stray pieces of egg onto her fork.
Walker sat at the far end of the table, as distant from her as possible without eating in the foyer. She’d realized what he was doing a few days into the game and tried sitting at different places around the table. He would invariably take the seat farthest away. Once she had tried removing all of the chairs except the one next to hers, but he only picked up the chair and carried it to the farthest end. She had finally given up and let him sit wherever he pleased.
“Walker, don’t forget Caleb is coming today,” Flo called as she scoured a skillet at the kitchen sink. “You’ll need to leave the study key.”
Caleb. In all her misery, Sarah had forgotten the accountant.
Walker dug into his pocket and produced a long skeleton key, laying it before him on the table. He’d taken to locking the study.
The key sat there, taunting her. Her food suddenly tasted bitter.
Resentment bubbled in her throat and before she could check them, the words tumbled out of her mouth. “How well do you know Caleb?”
Walker’s fork hovered halfway between his plate and his mouth. He studied the utensil as if it were a foreign object. Sarah heard Flo cease scrubbing for a moment and then resume. The silence at the table was deafening. Walker slowly lifted his head to look at her.
“Are you talking to me?”
“You’re not going to like this, but I think Caleb might be taking advantage of you.” She bit her lip, wondering if she’d lost her mind. She had no real proof of the accountant’s dishonesty, and she certainly wasn’t on the best of terms with Walker, but given a few hours alone with the ledger, she was certain she could point out some puzzling inconsistencies.
Walker calmly picked up a biscuit and spread butter on it. “Are you suggesting that my best friend is stealing from me?”
She was but not so candidly. “Have you looked at your books lately? Really looked?” She wasn’t going to win points on this one, but if he was so blind that he couldn’t see what the man was doing, he shouldn’t accuse her of bad judgment.
Walker slid a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Snooping again?”
“I have no reason to steal your money, Walker. You’re in such an all-fired hurry to believe the worst of me, yet you turn a blind eye to others’ manipulation.”
“You’re speaking of Caleb again?”
“Yes.”
She knew she was out of bounds, but she didn’t care. Frustration drove her. Leaning closer, she quietly asked down the long table length, “Why doesn’t he return the receipts?”
Walker took a moment to answer. “For safety, I suppose. I don’t need to reexamine the receipts.”
“Is it possible he doesn’t want you to know how much he’s skimming off the top?”
Walker locked gazes with her. “You’re wrong, Sarah.”
“Scared you’ll find out your best friend is cheating you?”
“Stop it!”
“You two knock it off in there!” Flo yelled from the kitchen.
Sarah ignored her. She lowered her tone. “Are you afraid you might discover that your friend isn’t your friend?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time someone I trusted betrayed me.”
Flo stuck her head around the doorway. “Sarah, those are mighty strong words.”
The warning only stiffened Sarah’s resolve. “I know the books have been tampered with and I can prove it.”
“You’re talking nonsense,” Walker said, his face now red.
“Prove me a fool.”
Glaring at her, he grabbed the key and rose from the table, the chair scraping behind him. Sarah rose also and followed him out of the room.
Flo trailed behind, whispering, “You better be able to back this up, young lady.”
“Or what? Risk losing his favor?” Sarah laughed, suddenly lightheaded with power. She could prove it, but would Walker believe her if she did?
Walker strode through the hallway. Inserting the key in the lock, he gave her a dark look and then opened the study door.
Sarah’s heart tried to escape her chest, and she was short of breath by the time she approached the desk. She didn’t have much time to prove her theory. Caleb would be here by eleven, and there were pages and pages in the ledger. Pushing Walker aside, she sat down and opened Spring Grass’s financial records. Her hand shook when she realized that she had just touched her husband for the first time in weeks. Her hand burned from the brief contact, and she fought the desire to touch him again.
Reaching for pencil and paper, she started adding and subtracting, examining the columns of numbers for discrepancies. Walker stood behind her, his eyes fixed on the paper.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this.”
“I hate to see anyone cheated.” She rebuked his impatient sigh with a warning look. She glanced up. “And don’t remind me that I cheated—I didn’t cheat. I just didn’t tell the truth.”
Caleb Vanhooser had honed the art of embezzlement. Proving that his numbers were off was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated. Were there two sets of books? The ledger looked surprisingly clean today, as if he had tidied up his dirty work.
“Has Caleb worked on the books recently?”
“He works on them twice a month. You know that.”
She could feel him watching her, and she dared not look up for fear of losing her place in the columns of numbers. Walker edged around the desk as if trying to get a better look. He accidentally brushed the side of her chair. She glanced up, realizing that he was studying her, not the numbers. She blushed with heat, and for a mere second she considered dropping the pencil and reaching for him.
He turned toward the window, clearing his throat. Sarah dared not take time to breathe. She found a mistake, and she circled it with her pencil.
She had reached the last page when a soft rapping at the closed study door made her start. Caleb’s knock. Her heart leapt to her throat. She was so close! Walker glanced at her as the knock came again, more persistently.
“Don’t answer it. I’m nearly finished. Just a few more numbers…” She hurriedly tallied the last three columns, praying that Walker would allow her sufficient time to finish. From the corner of her eye she could see him walking toward the door.
A moment later the accountant’s thin frame appeared in the doorway. His smile faded when he saw her, and his eyes moved to the open ledger.
“What’s going on here?”
Closing the door, Walker returned to the desk. “Sarah thinks there’s an error in the books. Is that possible, Caleb?”
Caleb met Sarah’s eyes. His normally pallid features flushed and his gaze pinned her. “I don’t believe so, but I’ll be happy to go over the entries in question.”
“Some of your entries don’t make sense, Mr. Vanhooser.”
His left brow arched. “Are you an accountant, Mrs. McKay?”
Sarah felt heat suffuse her cheeks. “Of course not, but I’ve always been good with numbers.”
Caleb forced a smile, giving Walker a long-suffering look. “Of course. Perhaps your condition has you…imagining things? I know when a woman—”
Sarah sprang out of the chair. “My condition has nothing to do with it.” She thrust her calculations at him. “Where’s the ledger—and receipts that were here a few weeks ago?”
Caleb reached out to catch the fluttering sheets.
“Walker,” Sarah pleaded, “this isn’t the same ledger that was here last month. That accounting had dozens of discrepancies. This ledger is a book of fabrication.”
Papers collected, Caleb glanced at Walker. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. Perhaps she detected a slight miscalculation. Regrettable as it is, these things happen. I’ll be happy to go over the figures with you and explain anything in question.”
For a moment Sarah was almost swayed by his sincerity. Had she mistaken this man? Was her condition making her utter these wild accusations? But she’d seen the mistakes! The receipts were the only way to prove her claim. She snatched the papers out of Caleb’s hand and scanned the long rows of numbers again.
She glanced at Walker, who said nothing. His grave features chilled her.
Caleb smiled, reaching for the papers. “After dinner? We’ll come in here and I’ll explain whatever’s bothering you.”
He met her gaze and she wasn’t sure what she saw. A warning? Fear? He’s a fraud, Sarah realized. He’s deceiving Walker and he’s desperate. And desperate men are dangerous men. “That won’t be necessary,” she said.
Walker broke the silence. “Caleb and I will finish up in here.”
“But, Walker—”
“Sarah, go cool off. You are out of order.”
Sarah bit back resentment. He did not believe her. And why should he?
“Go rest, Sarah.” Walker opened the door and gently ushered her through it.
Over Walker’s shoulder she saw Caleb’s cold, hard face. “Fool,” he mouthed. Although he didn’t make a sound, she knew exactly what his warning implied. He was cheating Walker blind—and she couldn’t do a thing about it. He may have cleverly covered his tracks, but someone with more knowledge about numbers could catch him.
A moment later, she was out in the hall, the door closed behind her.
“Don’t be so smug, Caleb,” she told the closed door. “You haven’t won yet.”