A widow in the autumn of her life, Martha Patton. Sheriff Tony, who Martha and her husband adopted years ago as a boy when he needed a second chance. The year 1971 brings changes, including a cancer diagnosis for Martha that she doesn’t want Tony to know about. For Tony, the winds of change in his career sound when strange break- ins at an old man’s house start to occur, involving a boy left behind…
Added to all that, is the seven year old case of Sheriff Joe Patton, father figure, and Ashley, the daughter, being kidnapped and murdered within months of each other.
In this season of life, will Martha and Tony allow God to redeem these days in His Plan?
Will the Sheriff and his adopted mother answer the call?
This book is filled with pictures of what America would have looked like in the 1970’s. A vision of small town picturesqueness. But what lies beneath the are the secrets, lies, heroes, and enemies of freedom that are historically accurate to the time.
When you read this book, you will see the characters trying to move on with life after tragedy strikes. But finding that there is more to moving on than forgetting the past.
This is the beginning of a five book series, all which build up on each other.
I think that the ending, where a beautiful moment of redemption that foreshadows the plot of the rest of the series, is what readers will walk away loving.
The adoption of a child who needs a second chance, in a situation where believing him was taking a risk, shows God’s Heart.
Seattle, 1949
He was sitting in a little room. Shackles bound his feet and hands. People all over the room were staring at him like he was a rabid dog, with evil intention to bite.
Wearing an oversized black and white suit that swam over his small frame.
Twelve years old.
How did he get here?
Only yesterday, the worst consequence for him could have been a licking coming from the principal at school, and that never happened, because Tony wasn’t a boy that searched for trouble.
Yet here he was. And he’d been jolted in the jail wagon all morning, like a wanted criminal.
Adults with long looks on their faces surrounded him.
He wanted to cry. But the shock was so fierce, the tears would not come. He wanted to scream, but his voice would not sound from his dry throat.
A loud bang shot through the room from the judge’s stand.
He was a man with grey hair and glasses that reflected the light from the ceiling so that Tony could not see his eyes.
It was as if a head without eyes was studying him intensely.
And it caused fear to grip the boy in a way he had never known that he could fear.
“Court will begin. Quiet in the court please. Quiet.” A silence came over the room so effectively, that a small bead of a pearl necklace dropping softly onto the floor tiles could have been easily noted by many.
The man cleared his voice:
“We’re here to discuss the crime of murder committed against Mr. Paul Biner, who was declared dead due at ten pm exactly to a pistol shot to the chest region near the neck, on the second train along the route from Vancouver to Seattle. We are also here to discuss an attempted murder attempt against Thomas Krane, who was shot in the lower left leg moments later at the same place, at ten o’ one pm. Let us call the first witness.”
Tony sat numbly listening to four witnesses that could remember clearly what he was still unsure he had even done.
Four hours passed of questions, comments, tears, and other displays of emotions. Tony was called to take a stand and answer questions, and he did. But it was all very mechanical. He could hardly speak at all. But his ears perked up when he heard the judge speak with authority again:
“I find Tony Krane not guilty of the murder of Mr. Paul Biner, and guilty of the attempted murder of Mr. Thomas Krane. This would find Tony Krane a sentence of six years of juvenile prison, followed by a retrial at the point, to consider a following sentence of forty years.”
Tony closed his eyes for a moment.
He tried to breathe. But nothing came out.
And that’s when it happened.
He pushed some bangs aside,
And he fell backwards.
But instead of falling onto the hard wooden ground that should have met him, a set of strong, muscular arms caught him.
The boy let a small cry escape his lips before swallowing.
And he felt a bit of cool water trickle over his forehead, and into his nostrils.
“You alright there, Tony?”
The words were spoken by a male voice unlike any Tony had ever heard before.
He blinked a little and tried to look up, but the water had entered his eyes.
And before he knew what was happening, the strong arms were pulling him back up into a sitting position on his chair.
“You nearly fell and hit your head pretty badly. Do you need some air?”
Tony’s hand shook as he brought it to wipe his brow. Some tears were threatening to fill his eyes, but he didn’t let them.
Instead, he turned to look at the kind stranger.
There, framed against the doorway of the courtroom, stood what at first looked to Tony like merely a silhouette. As his eyes adjusted again to the light of the room, he could see more clearly.
It was a tall man, taller than he’d seen before. He wore a country man’s hat and had a gun belt applied to his waist. A vest that Tony supposed must be bulletproof was buttoned tight up his torso.
A few chocolate brown curls found their way sticking out under the hat.
The man had to be in his late thirties, or early forties.
His eyes were what Tony noticed right away.
They seemed deep. They were trying to study him. Non- intrusively, but also, with care.
His silhouette was as different from the one Tony had seen from Thomas so many times.
And it caught him into a fascination.
The man furrowed his eyebrows.
“Tony, have you eaten today?”
Swallowing, Tony shook his head.
The man studied him for a moment longer before putting up a long finger.
“Wait here a minute.”
Tony nodded. What else was he to do? There was no place that he could go anyway. But still, he did as he was told.
Moments later, the man was back, with a deputy, who brought a set of keys.
Tony looked down as the deputy let him out of his shackles and pointed him toward the man.
Tony bit his lip.
“I don’t understand.”
The man nodded. “Even a potential killer has to eat. Follow me.”
The boy obeyed.
They walked out of the courtroom, and down the hall where there was a small cafeteria.
The man stood at the line and ordered a sandwich. Then he led Tony to the food court, where he motioned for him to sit down, and gave him the food.
Tony looked suspiciously at the man, but was given the order:
“You can’t go through a day like that without having some sort of protein. Now you take that down, or I’ll put you in shackles again for being in contempt of me.”
Tony’s eyes widened, but he also found himself trying to wipe away a smirk from his face.
The man saw it and nodded.
“I mean it, Tony. Get some strength in you. You’re a boy. Can’t have you passing out in court like you were about to.”
Tony, unable to do anything but obey, started to eat.
And the man just watched.
As he saw the boy slow down a little, he spoke.
“Had you eaten since yesterday?
Tony shook his head. “No.”
The man nodded again, and the boy saw concern in his eyes. “You need another one?”
Tony breathed. “My stomach. I don’t really feel much like it.”
The man looked at the amount the boy had eaten, not satisfied. But he started a different line of conversation. “That’s your pa they say you shot trying to kill; isn’t it?”
Tony swallowed, gulped, and then nodded.
The man moved his lips together, as if thinking.
“Wanna tell me about it?”
Tony stopped mid- bite, considering. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
It was all that he could think to answer.
The man bent a little lower so that he was almost sitting at the boy’s level before answering him.
“Well, you look pretty- well shaken to me, Son. And that tells me, there is something to this outside of you just being scared out of your britches to go to jail.” He paused again. “I think it’s fair to hear about that. If you’ll tell me.”
Tony really looked at the man for the first time.
He had deep- set, brown eyes. It was the first time Tony felt unafraid to look into an adult male’s eyes.
Sitting in his truck now, years later, he wished that he could remember the exact way it happened.
But he didn’t.
What he did remember, was one moment, the man and Tony knew nothing about each other, and the next, the man, Joe, knew all about Tony’s situation.
Joe rubbed his chin after the boy spoke, as if to collect his thoughts.
“Sounds like you’ve been through a bunch of a whole lot. I understand mistakes can happen, and innocent children can get blamed for them.” He paused before looking the boy straight in the eye: “Why’d you shoot your father, too?”
Tony found himself reddening. He’d known that was not the smartest move he could have made. And he knew that Joe knew it, too.
He closed his eyes.
And the tears began to fall.
“I was afraid, Sir. Really afraid. But I was angry, too.”
Joe was quiet before placing a hand on the boy’s back to rub it ever so gently.
“I know you were afraid, Tony. I don’t know that any boy in your shoes wouldn’t have been.” He breathed another moment before returning to the topic. “Did you mean to kill him?”
Tony sat back, put a hand through his hair, which at this point, was growing in greasiness.
“Truthfully? I don’t know. One minute, I’d shot and killed a man. The next, I saw my father had set me up and was getting away. And I shot him.”
Joe squinted at the boy.
“Did you know it could have killed him, Tony?”
Tony felt the weight in his own words as he answered softly, but also honestly:
“Yes.”
Joe reached out to put a hand over Tony’s.
“I’m not going to tell you what you already know about whether that was right or wrong. When you do something that you know can kill someone, it’s as heavy a thing as if you’d intended to do it. Do you understand that?”
Tony swallowed, knowing that his life was in the balances.
“Yes sir,” he whispered so quietly.
But to his surprise, he saw a little smile on Joe’s face, almost a sad one, before he felt his hand squeeze his with even more strength.
“I admire your forthcomingness, young Tony.” He sat back, folding his hands. “Now, like you know, they’re in there, talking about you. And juvenile hall.” He observed the boy another moment. “I’m not convinced that is a good place for you. If I could talk them into the alternative of you being under my legal guardianship for the next few years instead, how would that sit with you?”
Tony looked at Joe with eyes that could not understand.
“Why?” he finally asked.
Joe’s next words would strike the boy to the core.
“I believe you.”
At that point, as the strong man spoke so kindly and courageously to him, Tony began to weep.
And before long, Sheriff Joe and Tony were in an embrace that would mark the beginning of a relationship that came to resemble that of a father and son.