“It would be good to try to figure out where he was, but we should only need to prove he wasn’t there one of the times. ” At least Grace hoped so. The mayor seemed wholly unpredictable in his current state, and Grace wouldn’t put it past SheriffClairmont to intentionally ignore their proof for the sole purpose of causing pain.
Sobs continued, and Grace clenched her fists. They needed to make a plan, and, warranted as the sorrow might be, there simply wasn’t time to waste.
Russell stepped forward and patted Mrs. Stanton’s shoulder. “I’m going to talk to Cyrus. I’ll find out where he was.”
“We will figure this out, Momma,” Lizzy said.
Her father hauled himself from his seat and walked over to Mrs. Stanton.
“Let’s let them give it a try,” he said. “I’ll ask Jesse if he knows where Cyrus was three days ago. And if he doesn’t know, I’ll contact your brother. Perhaps Cyrus was with his boys.”
“Oh, I’m too weak for this,” Mrs. Stanton said. “Too weak for this madness.”
Lizzy gathered her mother into her arms. “No, you’re not, Momma. You’ll do just fine. Everything will be fine.”
When Lizzy rejoined Grace and Russell, Grace gently ushered her toward their door. It was likely Mrs. Stanton would burst into tears again anytime now.
The discussion with Cyrus was short. A patrolman led them to a set of stairs on the south side of the town hall that abutted the fencing enclosing the mayor’s copse, a portion of the forest that had been set aside as the mayor’s personal land before Grace could remember. The stairs led into the basement jail cells. When Lizzy saw Cyrus cowering on a stone bench in the corner of the dank cell, she hurried to the bars, calling out his name.
“Stay back,” the patrolman commanded, pounding the hilt of a sword against the bars. Cyrus shook, and Lizzy jumped back. “Hurry up. I’m not standing here watching you all day.”
Russell wasted no more time, spouting questions as they occurred to him. The frightened prisoner didn’t have any answers for them. He didn’t know what he’d been doing, andeven if he had, Grace doubted he’d have managed to get the words out in a clear manner. The poor boy was shaking.
Elizabeth was near tears by the end of it. But she stood tall and marched her way out of the basement.
Back at the Stanton manor, Lizzy told Grace with teary bleakness to go harvest her fields.
“Lizzy.”
“Go, Grace. I don’t want you to lose the wheat,” she said. Lizzy never was good at hiding her emotions, and Grace could hear hurt in the statement.
“I want to help.” Grace sniffed. “Lizzy, the wheat is important. I meant that. But so is your brother. We’ll find a way to finish the harvest. I’m not going to abandon you or Cyrus.”
Lizzy peered at her from the corners of her eyes. “I guess I could stand to think of others more often.”
“Well,” Grace said, “Cyrus is a good start.”
When Mr. Stanton returned, he brought good news. Three days earlier, Cyrus had been with his cousins at the Durr manor. Mr. and Mrs. Durr, despite being related to the Stantons, rarely spent time with the family, likely because Mr. Durr, as tax collector, was one of the mayor’s staunchest supporters, and Lizzy’s family had chosen to remain impartial. But the children hadn’t adopted their parents’ politics quite yet.
Mrs. Durr, the more tenderhearted of the couple, had persuaded her husband to speak on Cyrus’s behalf. It was a hollow promise, Grace feared. Mr. Durr had chosen the sheriff over family long ago.
Lizzy squealed with delight. “It’s solved, then.”
Grace was loath to steal joy from her when the end of the day could very well bring a sadness that would never fade, but she couldn’t leave her friend unprepared. “I hope so, Lizzy. Just be careful with the sheriff. I don’t trust him.”
With a dramatic shiver, Lizzy nodded. “I didn’t think he was going to let me go yesterday.”
Grace smiled. “I’ll be praying for you all.” She started to leave.
”Grace?” Never had Lizzy sounded more vulnerable. Grace looked back at her. “Would you come to the trial in town hall tonight?”
Grace returned to her friend and wrapped her in a hug. “ I’ll be there.”
“Thanks.”
Grace returned to the harvest, but Russell stayed to help Jesse, who hadn’t left his room the entire day. Her heart was heavy. She couldn’t bear it if that innocent boy was hanged. She hoped the proof they’d gathered would be enough.
And then tomorrow, the nightmare starts all over again. Except this time, Garrick would be the prisoner. Or, if his last name protected him, Russell would be the one huddled on a dank stone bench behind bars.