Page 89 of Taming Lady Temperance

James opened the flour sack and pulled out the clothing. The sheriff’s nose wrinkled as he gave them a good sniff.

“Not only do they smell of kerosene but there is dark brown paint staining the hem of the pants as well as the ankle area of one sock. A paint color that matches the paint I found in the alley.” James pointed to the old, dented can with dried paint smeared down its side. “A darker shade than the paint Clevenger was using in his storeroom.” He indicated a newer can sporting a slightly lighter shade of brown around its rim.

The sheriff compared the pant leg to both paint cans. “Clevenger could have kicked over the alley paint while fighting the fire.”

James shook his head. “Not if he never showed up to fight the fire. By his own admission, he chose to guard his emporium instead of joining the water lines. Mrs. Clevenger has also stated that her husband never came to bed last night, leaving him with no alibi during the time the fire started.”

James picked up Arthur’s business shoes and began examining them. The soles looked exceptionally clean, and the leather had been freshly polished. Covering up evidence? Noreen frowned. But as James pulled apart the laces, a triumphant grin spread across his face. He pulled the laces completely free of one shoe, stretched the string out upon the table, and pointed to a discolored place near the center.

“There. The same paint color. He tried to clean it away, but it’s hard to clean out every crevice.”

Sheriff Adair straightened from examining the shoelace and scratched at his beard. “You got a motive?”

James handed a letter to the sheriff, one Noreen hadn’t seen. “He wants a council seat. According to his wife, he blames his stepdaughter’s temperance crusade for his lack of political success. This letter promises aid if Clevenger puts a stop to the local temperance problem. Having his stepdaughter arrested would certainly curb her activities.” James turned and sought out Velma in the crowd. “I’ve been informed that Miss Stafford can place Arthur Clevenger near the boardinghouse when the laundry was on the line, giving him access to Miss O’Sullivan’s handkerchief.”

Velma’s eyes widened as attention shifted to her, but she nodded. “That’s true. I was working in the herb garden when I heard the gate squeak. I stepped around the side of the boardinghouse and saw Mr. Clevenger yank something off the clothesline. I asked him what he was doing, and he claimed the wind had blown his handkerchief over the fence, and he was just retrieving it. I found it rather peculiar but had no reason to doubt the veracity of his statement until Mrs. Barker questioned me about it this evening.”

“Thank you, Miss Stafford.” James pivoted back to the desk, picked up the handkerchief, then laid it next to a hand-painted sign that looked like it came from the emporium. He turned his attention back to the sheriff. “Notice how the lettering on this sign is similar to the lettering painted on the handkerchief. Similar enough to suppose that the same hand fashioned both of them.”

James closed his notebook and placed it on the table. “Both cases are circumstantial, Sheriff, but when you weigh the evidence, the case against Clevenger is far stronger.”

Taggert’s arms dropped to his sides as his gaze scoured the collection of evidence. “Clevenger did this? For a council seat?” His hands bunched into fists. “Fool man could have burned down the entire town.” The saloon owner pushed out of the corner by the stove, where he’d been standing, and strode for the door. Halfway there, he stopped and turned a haggard face toward Noreen.

“I owe you an apology.”

“Well, I owe you one hundred fifty-two dollars and seventy-five cents.” She smiled as she shrugged. “I’m not exactly blameless in this.”

He smirked. “Finally, something we can agree on.” He chuckled softly, then dipped his chin, “I’m sorry for jumpin’ to conclusions and blaming you for something you didn’t do.”

An unseen heaviness lifted from within Noreen’s breast. “Apology accepted.”

Taggert tipped his hat to her, then strode out into the night.

Sheriff Adair clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well, Paxton, if you can convince Taggert, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with the judge. As for the rest of you . . .” Adair made dramatic shooing motions. “Get out of my jailhouse. My deputy and I got work to do.”

Noreen let herself be swept along with the others, accepting hugs and well wishes as everyone made their way outside. But when Mrs. Barker invited her to walk back to the boardinghouse with her and Velma, Noreen shook her head.

“I have something I need to do first.”

She turned back to the jailhouse, where James stood silhouetted in the doorway.

What did one give the man who saved her life? She hoped her heart would be enough.

Chapter

41

James pulled the door closed behind him, his eyes locked on Noreen as the people around her dispersed. Brother Cowan shepherded his womenfolk and the schoolmarm back toward the parsonage. Mrs. Barker and Miss Stafford strolled toward the boardinghouse. Connor Reed—after shooting a wink James’s way—offered to escort Mrs. Clevenger home, creating a blessed moment of privacy James refused to waste.

He moved toward her and she toward him, the pull between them stronger than ever. He ached to hold her, touch her, kiss her until he could no longer breathe, but she’d been through an emotional storm tonight, and what he wanted didn’t matter as much as what she needed. So he restrained his desires, only allowing himself to take her hand and caress it with the edge of his thumb.

“Are you all right?” He searched her face for clues to how she was faring, but her dark brown eyes glistened with such adoration that all those desires to hold her rushed back with renewed ferocity.

“I am. Thanks to you.” She stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest. “You’re amazing, James.”

The muscle beneath her fingers twitched, and his heart took off at a gallop. “I, uh, had a lot of help. Your mother. Martha. Even Mrs. Barker . . .” Her hand smoothed the fabric of his shirt, and he lost his train of thought.

“Yes, they all played a role, and I’m incredibly grateful. But you, James, you pieced everything together. You convinced the sheriff.” Amusement twinkled in her eyes. “Gracious, you even convinced Mr. Taggert.” Her gaze grew serious. “I owe you my life.”