Angel Fire, Valmore Daniels [rosie project txt] 📗

>I didn’t have time to unravel the puzzle because Aunt Martha opened the front door and called out, “Darcy, are you here, my dear?”

The cordiality in her voice sounded forced. I barely had time to hide the book under a stack of newspapers before three people entered into the kitchen.

 

Chapter Eighteen

Aunt Martha entered the kitchen first, Uncle Edward a step behind.

Like a child who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar, I flashed them a guilty smile.

I was about to return the greeting when I saw who accompanied them. Sheriff Burke, dressed in his badly fitting uniform, zeroed in on me like a predator scenting blood. My stomach tightened. It was that automatic reaction to authority ingrained in me since my first night in prison. I fought my instinct to cower, and stood to meet him.

“Sheriff—”

“Darcy. I thought it would take longer for you to slip up. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to do this. For violations of your parole conditions, I am placing you under arrest—”

“Martin, damn you!” Uncle Edward growled. His face turned a deep crimson and he put himself between Sheriff Burke and me. “You didn’t come here to get her to sign more paperwork, you lying little bastard.”

“You watch your mouth, Eddie. I’m here on official business and if you interfere, I’ll be well within my rights to arrest you too!”

“Try it!” was Uncle Edward’s immediate reply, and he clenched his fists and planted his feet.

Aunt Martha’s was the only voice of reason. “Gentlemen, please. Not on the Sabbath.”

“I don’t care what day it is,” Sheriff Burke shot back. “Your niece broke parole. I have eyewitnesses that say she was in The Trough last night.”

I stepped around Uncle Edward. “I only drank water! I was just there for the dancing.”

“And to start a bar fight!” the sheriff replied.

I could feel my face burning with anger. “I did no such thing. If you want the truth—”

Sheriff Burke snorted. “Ha. You wouldn’t know the truth if it came up and bit you in the ass.”

Aunt Martha put her hands on her ample hips. “I’ll have none of that language in this house!”

As if only just realizing he was outnumbered three to one, Sheriff Burke took a step back and lowered his voice. “Are you going to cooperate, or do you want me to charge you with resisting arrest as well?”

“Now you just wait a minute,” Uncle Edward said, straining to keep his tongue civil. “She told you she didn’t consume any alcohol. Who said she did?”

“Well, no one,” the sheriff admitted. “But everyone I talked to placed her there and said she instigated a fight between my son and that new fireman. And you can bet I’ll see to it he never makes chief in this town.”

Uncle Edward growled low in his throat. “What is this really about, Martin? Are you really serving the law, or are you just mad that you have to fight your son’s battles for him.”

I hadn’t seen Sheriff Burke’s face go that color since the night Barry and I wrapped his police car around a tree. I knew he was going to blow.

Throwing my hands up, I said, “It’s all right. If he wants me to go with him, I won’t resist. Send me back to jail, if you want. But since our truce is over, I would like to press full charges against Barry for assaulting me last week, and for assaulting me last night.” I pushed my hair back from my face to show him my swollen cheek.

I gave him a humorless smile. “Your own words, Sherriff: everyone goes down together. I can prove I didn’t have anything to drink besides water. Can Barry prove he didn’t throw the first punch?”

Sheriff Burke was so outraged that he vibrated, but he had clearly run out of arguments.

Uncle Edward broke the silence. “Now, Martin, get the hell off my property. The next time you come around here, you had better have a legal warrant or, badge or not, I’ll finish what I started thirty years ago.”

Sheriff Burke outweighed my uncle by fifty pounds, had police training in combat techniques, and had a gun and baton.

Even with all that, he still turned on his heel and quick-marched out of my aunt’s house, his face as red as an apple.

The moment he left, I sank to the kitchen table and held my head in my hands. “When will this ever end?”

In the back of my mind, I registered that this was the second time I’d had a confrontation with Sheriff Burke, and the power had not shown its unholy presence. Maybe some part of me didn’t think of him as a serious threat. He was all bluster and pose: a man harsh of word and empty of action.

I should have taken him more seriously.

* * *

My aunt put her hand on my shoulder, a consoling gesture which I appreciated, but Uncle Edward’s voice cut through my anger.

“Are you a complete idiot?”

Eyes wide, I stared up at him, unable to protest.

He continued: “How dare you go out drinking when you’re on parole? Do you have no consideration or respect for us? We took you in, gave you work and a roof, and this is how you repay us?”

“Edward,” Aunt Martha cautioned, but her husband flipped his hand at her.

“No. This is too much. I won’t have it.” With a sigh, he turned around and walked out of the kitchen. “I wash my hands of it all.”

“Edward,” Aunt Martha called out to him, pleading.

I grabbed her arm to stop her from going after him. “No. Let me make this right.”

With a nod, Aunt Martha made herself busy by gathering dinner fixings from the pantry.

* * *

By the time I caught up with Uncle Edward, he was already halfway up the hill behind the motel. I had no idea where he was going, but he was making time as if he were a soldier on the march.

When I reached him, I was out of breath and couldn’t say anything. He glanced at me, but did not slow his pace. Maybe he just needed to walk off his anger, but I needed to make peace with him.

For the past few days, I felt we were getting closer, that I was tearing down the wall of distrust between us. He was right. It was foolish of me to take that kind of chance last night. I’d betrayed whatever trust I’d gained with him. When I finally regained my wind and matched his stride, I told him as much.

“It was stupid. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Another glance out the side of his eye and a grunt was the only acknowledgement he gave.

I knew I could apologize until I was blue in the face. Uncle Edward was a mule when he wanted to be. I had to come at it from a different angle.

“I’m sorry I put you between Sheriff Burke and me. He’s looking for any excuse to get rid of me. He’s hated me ever since I took up with Barry. But I can fight my own battles, you know.”

“Ha,” he scoffed.

Suddenly indignant, I thrust my hands on my hips. “I can!”

“No,” he explained. “I know you can fend for yourself. But if you must know the truth, he’s hated not just you, but all our family since before you were born.”

“Why?”

At first I thought he wouldn’t answer me, and wondered whether I should press him on the matter. Without warning, he adjusted his course and headed for a large fallen tree. I followed, and when we reached it, he sat down and rested his hands on his knees.

Reverently, I sat beside him. I could see he was trying to gather his thoughts. I didn’t need to urge him on; I just needed to give him enough room to feel comfortable. In silence, I watched a pair of swallows alight on a tree in the distance.

“I won’t apologize for it,” said Uncle Edward. “The way I see it, it was providence that brought your aunt and I together.”

I had no idea where he was going with this story, but the last thing I wanted to do was interrupt him. I kept my mouth shut.

He continued his story. “When Martha’s family moved to town, oh, I would have been about twenty … twenty-one or something. Her folks hired me to help settle them in, make some adjustments and repairs to their house. Run some errands. I was working full-time for my father, but every moment I could spare I was over there.

“She was a looker, your Aunt Martha—still is as far as I’m concerned. Turned more than one head back then, I can tell you. With her being new to town, well, that just added to the mystery of it all.

“I counted my lucky stars that her folks had enlisted my help. She liked me, or so I thought. She found any excuse to get in my way, to spill my wash water when her father got me to scrub the porch, to misplace my tool box when I was tasked to repair the fence.”

Uncle Edward glanced up at me.

“You know I’ve never been much for sharing feelings. It wasn’t that I was shy. Maybe I just needed more time to gather my courage. I waited too long to court her. She got tired of waiting and when Martin Burke came sniffing around, she agreed to let him take her to a movie and dinner.

“I was mad. Anger and youth is a bad combination. I followed them. I don’t know what I meant to do, but I wasn’t thinking straight. My heart was broken and I was hurt.”

Uncle Edward fell into a quiet contemplation for so long, I thought the story was over and I had somehow missed the ending. Before I could prompt him to continue, he did so of his own accord.

“The Burke family has been trouble from day one. Martin’s father was a bully, Martin’s son is a bully, and Martin himself is the poster boy for bullies.

“He figured he was due some payment for shelling out his hard-earned cash, and he thought Martha owed him a favor.

“I knew something was up when they turned off the road down near old man Sawley’s pasture. Most nights, that stretch is deserted—except for that night, because I wasn’t in my right mind and, like some love sick puppy, I was following them.

“I saw what he wanted. And Martha was not going to give it to him.

“Men like Martin and Barry don’t understand what the word ‘no’ means. He got rough with her. I was close enough to see, and I … I got there in time.

“I pulled him out of that car and beat him senseless. In some countries, they castrate people like Martin Burke. I always carried a buck knife with me, and that’s what I intended to do to him.

“Your aunt is the very soul of forgiveness, and she stopped me. I promised him if he ever crossed me or Martha again, that would be the end of him.”

When Uncle Edward finished his long story, I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. But my thoughts were awhirl.

It all fell into place for me then, why my parents were so furious with me for marrying into the very family that had caused so much pain and turmoil thirty years ago.

Looking back, I realized how much of an idiot I had been as a teenager.

And now Martin Burke was Sheriff Burke. I was both angry