Stealing Jake - By Pam Hillman Page 0,77

reckless. He’d always been one to go off half-cocked, but his anger had worsened over the years. “That’s going a little too far, Ed. Nobody’s going to get killed.”

Ed jerked to his feet, the sudden movement knocking his seat over. The chair popped the wooden floor like a gunshot. “Seems to me you aren’t all that interested in putting these fellers behind bars. You’re much too busy courting that little gal over at the orphanage, ain’t ya?” He sneered at Jake. “Maybe we need a new deputy around here.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t courting Livy, but if he were, it wouldn’t be anybody’s business but his.

“Ed.” Sam’s warning tone sliced through the thick air. Sam’s mild manner kept Ed from digging himself in too deep sometimes. “No need to get hot under the collar.”

Jake fingered the broken strand of pearls he’d found in the abandoned barn. The same barn Luke and Livy had tracked the thieves to. He’d looked around, put two and two together, and come up with the notion that Livy had to be telling the truth.

At least he hoped so.

“Ed, I received some information last night pointing to someone other than the street kids. I can’t be sure, of course, but I believe my source is telling me the truth.”

“So who is it?”

“I don’t know.” Jake pulled the necklace from his pocket and held it out to Ed. “But my source told me where to find this.”

Ed stared for a moment, then held out his hand. Jake dropped the pearls into his palm, the milky-white orbs clinking against each other. Ed closed his fist over the necklace, turned on his heel, and stomped out of the mercantile.

Sam threw Jake an apologetic look. “Sorry. Ed’s a little riled up this morning.”

“I don’t blame him. I reckon I would be too if someone broke in to my house.”

Jesse spoke up. “Ed lets his temper get the best of him, but he’s a good man at heart and a hard worker.”

Heads nodded all around. They sat for a moment in silence, thinking about Ed’s sacrifice in the war. Half the men seated around the stove had fought in the war, so they knew the horrors he’d seen. Ed’s shattered knee had almost cost him his life, and he’d live with the pain until he died. They could forgive him a little rage now and then.

“Reckon somebody else is doing the stealing?” Jesse speculated. “Remember Gibbons mentioned that at the meeting, but nobody wanted to hear it.”

Jake pulled out his knife and listened to the men talk. Livy had tried to tell him several times before last night that she didn’t think the street kids were to blame for the thefts. She’d also told him about the barn, and he’d found the pearls wedged between a trough and a horse’s stall. Surely she wouldn’t have told him all that if she thought the street kids were responsible.

“Nah. We didn’t have a problem with thieves until those kids from Chicago showed up. It’s gotta be them.”

Sam came out from behind the counter, righted Ed’s empty chair, and straddled it. “Well, I don’t know. Chestnut’s growing like a bad weed. Don’t get me wrong—more people means more business for me, but we’re seeing more and more gamblers and drunks showing up.” A pained expression crossed his face. “They’re having a bad influence on our kids.”

Nobody said a word. Everyone knew about Will’s troubles.

“Sam’s right. Those kids might be the least of our problems. Chicago’s bursting at the seams, and we’re getting the dregs of society. Why, ten years ago we had one saloon, and if you stopped in, you knew almost everybody there. Now we’re got three or four, maybe more.”

Everybody nodded, murmuring agreement.

“Remember that little gal from the orphanage who came to the meeting? She mentioned those sweatshops in Chicago where they work some of those kids twelve and fifteen hours a day. Anybody who’d do that to a kid needs a good horsewhipping. I don’t blame ’em for heading to Chestnut.”

“But that don’t give them the right to steal,” Jesse replied.

“I’m agin stealing as much as the next man, but what if your girls were starving or freezing to death, Jesse? Would you steal to keep them alive? It’s something to think about.”

Sam leaned his forearms on his knees. “Maybe we’re not doing enough to help ’em. I mean, how can we say we’re Christians if we don’t feed and clothe the hungry? Maybe give them a leg up so they

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