“Oh, no,” she moaned.
“You must shoot her.”
“What?”
“The horse is suffering. Do you know how to shoot?”
“Aye,” she said at length.
“Good. There is a pistol in my belt. One shot to the head…and do it quickly.” He waited, but she only stared at him and he was afraid she didn’t have the courage. “She is suffering, McKenna, you must do it now!”
At last, McKenna moved his shirt out of the way, carefully gripped the butt of the gun and pulled it out of his belt. With her entire being, she wanted to run instead, but even with tears streaming down her cheeks, she boldly walked to the horse. “I am so very sorry,” she sobbed as she raised the pistol and held it with both hands to steady it. She pulled back the hammer, aimed and fired.
There followed an odd sort of silence that seemed to last for an eternity.
The sky brightened, the wind became just a breeze and the rain turned to sprinkles. Slowly, McKenna put her hands down and let the gun fall to the ground. “Carl,” she whispered again, tearing her eyes off the dead animal to once more search for him.
When she glanced back, Judge Mitchel looked to be in excruciating pain so she went to him. Her attention was then drawn to three riders and two buggies, racing toward them down the debris-cluttered dirt road. The riders paused briefly and then continued toward the farm, where the farmer stood in front of his missing shed staring at his demolished barn. The house appeared untouched, but his new machine lay in ruin and his field looked as though a path had been swept down it with a giant broom.
The first buggy came to a quick halt, Mr. Goodwin and his butler, Keith, jumped out and rushed to her. “I am not hurt,” McKenna assured them, “but the judge is.”
While Keith helped the judge, the banker took hold of her arm. “You are very fortunate to be alive. Not many live through such a thing.” She looked bewildered, and for a moment he feared she might pass out, so he hurried her to the buggy.
“We can’t find Carl,” she said.
“Never mind that now. We need to get you to Mrs. Goodwin and the Judge to Doc Parker.”
She let him help her get in his buggy, watched both men help the judge get in, and then once more looked everywhere for Carl. He had to be there; people don’t just disappear.
As though he knew what she was thinking, Mr. Goodwin said, “The men will find him.” He wrapped a cloth around the Judge’s bleeding hand, got in beside McKenna and then nodded for his driver to take them back to town.
“We can’t find Carl,” she said again. As if she could take no more, she burst into tears and when Mr. Goodwin put his arm around her, she slumped against him and sobbed.
*
The next thing McKenna knew, Maude Goodwin’s maid was helping her undress and get into a hot tub in the Goodwin’s upstairs water closet. She held still while Maude took the few remaining pins out of her wet, muddy hair and then leaned her head back so the maid could wash it. Her tears were gone finally and the water felt good. The hail left red marks that threatened to turn to bruises, and she found herself mesmerized by the way the water in the tub, turn from clear to dirty.
McKenna doubted she would ever be clean again. Even so, all she could think about was Carl and the way he loved entertaining them at their croquet matches. She could still see his smile and the twinkle in his eye as he bowed to their applause.
*
Judge Mitchel was more concerned about her than he was about himself. While Doc Parker worked on his hands, he heard Mr. Goodwin call McKenna’s brother and even in his pain, he managed to suggest Hannish bring clean clothes for her. His left palm had a deep gash complete with splinters, but none of the bones were broken. His right hand didn’t fare as well, and that was the one he needed to sign all the papers a judge normally signed. At last, Doc gave him something for the pain and all his worries began to dull.
*
At Marblestone Mansion, Hannish heard the phone ring but when no one came to tell him, he assumed it was for someone else. Suddenly, the door to his study burst open and Alistair rushed in, “A tornado hit the carriage!”
Hannish instantly stood up. “Is McKenna hurt?”
“Mr. Goodwin says not badly, but she is quite upset. They have not yet found Carl.”
“Oh, no.”
“Mr. Goodwin says McKenna needs clean clothing.”
Hannish hurried to the door and shouted, “Millie!” Half the servants overheard what Alistair said over the phone in the kitchen, and they were already gathered outside his door. “Sarah, tell Millie to fetch clothes for McKenna and meet me out front.”
He raced down the hall, threw open a side door and ran across the back lawn to the corral. He didn’t realize Prescot was right behind him. He whistled for his horse, grabbed a halter off the fencepost and as soon as the dapple gray came to him, Hannish put the halter on. He grabbed a handful of the horse’s mane, swung up and as soon as Prescot got the gate open, he sped toward the front of the mansion.
He halted his horse and had to wait a few precious seconds for Millie to bring the clothes, but then he realized he didn’t know where McKenna was. “Alistair!”
Alistair had the bag in his hand when he hurried out the foyer door. “Aye.”
“Where is she?”
“At the Goodwin’s.” He handed Hannish the clothes and quickly backed away. “Call us, Mr. Hannish.” He wasn’t sure his employer heard him and when Alistair looked back, Leesil and Cathleen were watching Hannish race out of sight.
“A tornado,” Alistair whispered as he looked across the front yard toward town. It had been windy and it rained a few minutes earlier, but it was not enough to cause alarm. Tornados were something he had only read about and when he looked between the trees, he breathed a sigh of relief. The dark sky over the town had turned to a light gray.
*
It seemed as though it took hours for her brother to come. McKenna was dressed in a loose-fitting frock Maude loaned her, and was sitting in a chair when Hannish and Mr. Goodwin finally entered the Goodwin’s guest bedroom. Hannish immediately went to her, looked her over and then scooped her up. For a long moment, he rocked her in his arms the way he had since she was little. “Thank God you are safe. You know how much I love you; do you not, my sweet McKenna?”
“Aye,” she whispered. She put her head on his shoulder, and drew in the comfort he was always willing to give her. At last, she felt safe again.
Hannish hated to tell her, but it had to be said. “They found Carl in a field. He is dead.”
Just when she thought she could cry no more, the sobs began again.
“Dinna cry wee bairn, you will make yourself sick.” He held her for a few more minutes, set her bare feet on the floor and then wrapped an arm around her. “There is a bit of good news; the judge only broke one hand. The other is cut, but ‘tis not broken.”
“The judge is worried about you,” said Mr. Goodwin, “Are you hurt, my dear?”
She wiped her tears with the handkerchief Maude handed her and struggled to take a breath. “Not…badly. What hit us?”
Still afraid she might pass out; Mr. Goodwin took her arm and encouraged her to sit. “It was a tornado, my dear. They are rare and I have never seen one this late in the year, but it does happen. I saw it through my upstairs window at the bank and sounded the alarm. Thankfully, the tornado dissipated before it hit town. When I realized your carriage was gone, I thought surely…well, never mind that.”
“The judge must have pulled me out just in time. Can I see him?” McKenna asked.
Mr. Goodwin nodded. “He is home now, and it will ease his mind if he sees you are well.”
Maude smiled. “Your brother brought clean clothes and I will help you dress, that is if I can get these worried men to leave.” She winked at Hannish and then shooed the men away with the back of her hand.
*
The medicine Doc Parker gave the judge to dull the pain, while he straightened and put
splints on his two broken fingers, was beginning to wear off a little. Keith stayed and helped him get home, cleaned him up and then helped him get in bed. Judge Mitchel was still a little groggy when McKenna and her brother entered his bedroom. He tried to sit up, but she quickly sat on the edge of the bed beside him and gently pushed him back. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
She smiled to comfort him. “Nay.” She looked at his bandaged hands and then into his pleasing eyes. “My brother and I came to thank you for saving me.”
“It is I who should thank you. You kept the wind from pulling me into the air.”
Again, she smiled. “I had forgotten that.”
“McKenna…I mean, Miss MacGreagor, I...”
“You must rest now. Mr. Goodwin said you are alone here. My brother wishes to send one of our footmen and a cook to tend you.” When Judge Mitchel started to speak, she put a finger to her lip. “Dinna deny him, he is fond of feeling useful, particularity to those who save the people he loves. Please say you will allow it.”
He finally relaxed. “I was just wondering how I was going to button my shirt.”
“‘Tis settled then. Rest and I shall come again in a day or two.” She looked into his eyes a little longer than she would have under other circumstances. Then she stood up and left the room.
“Mr. MacGreagor,” the judge whispered when Hannish started to leave. “Close the door.”
Hannish did as he asked and then moved closer to the bed. “What is it?”
“Did she tell you what happened?”
“She has said very little.”
“She shot one of the horses. I could not do it, so she did. The mare’s leg was broken and the horse was screaming.”
Hannish closed his eyes for a moment. “My sister will surely have nightmares.”
“I know I will,” said the judge.
“Thank you for telling me, I shall see to her.” Hannish nodded and left the room.
In the Judge’s parlor, Keith quickly got to his feet. “Miss McKenna, I am so happy to know you are not hurt.”
“Thank you, Keith. You are a very good lad for coming to help us as quickly as you did. I shall always be grateful.”
Keith took his eyes off her and extended his hand to Hannish. “Mr. Hannish, it is good to see you again. I hope you don’t think I harbor any ill will.”
Hannish gladly shook his former employee’s hand. “I dinna think that at all.”
“Sassy…I mean, Mrs. MacGreagor did not encourage me, I realize that now.”
“You are missed at Marblestone, which reminds me, may I use the telephone? I need to ask Jessie and Dugan to come help the judge, and will you stay with him until they come?”
“I am happy to.” Keith grinned. “You never know when you might need to be on the good side of a judge.”
*
Even after Hannish called to say she was alright, the inhabitants of Marblestone Mansion anxiously awaited the return of the master and his sister. Shepard stood outside watching for the first sign of them, and when he whistled, everyone rushed out the door. Riding bareback, Hannish walked the dapple-gray stallion to the front door holding an exhausted McKenna in his arms.
She tried to smile to reassure them as Alistair lifted her down, but their expressions of concern remained, and she was glad when their otherwise prim and proper butler held her in his arms for a long moment. She didn’t want to hear it again, and when her brother reported Carl’s death, she thought she might truly collapse. Leesil was the first to start crying, which made McKenna’s tears start to flow again. Soon, all the women were in tears and the men had their heads bowed. The news was so very awful and the guilt she felt for having survived was becoming more than she could bear.
McKenna wanted to scream, but she held her emotions in check, hugged cook Jessie and footman Dugan goodbye, and then watched them board the wagon. She was glad they were going to take care of the judge. Still, Egan took up the driver seat instead of Carl, and it made her feel even worse. At last, she turned and went inside.
“Are you hungry, Miss McKenna?” Millie asked, following close behind.
“Nay, Millie, but I would like a bath and something to wash the dirt out of my mouth.”
“Aye, Miss.” Millie quickly skirted McKenna, didn’t bother going to the servant’s stairs, and climbed the formal marble steps instead to start a bath.
Hannish nodded to Shepard. “Bring sweet wine from the cellar.”
“Yes, Mr. Hannish.”
“Your face is bruised,” said Leesil, taking McKenna’s arm.
“Hail,” was all McKenna said as she let Leesil and Cathleen walk her up the stairs. Had she looked back, she would have seen the rest of the mansion’s residents standing at the bottom of the stairs watching her.
*
McKenna took dinner in her room, ate very little, and had a steady stream of visitors, each wanting to assure themselves she was alright. She was not very attentive and didn’t want to talk about it. Even so, forgotten bits and pieces of what happened constantly popped into her head -- little things she remembered for no reason at all. She cried twice more over the death of Carl, but the wine seemed to help with that.
Worried sick about her, especially since she still had not mentioned the horse, Hannish sat in a chair beside her bed and encouraged her to sleep. There was nothing McKenna loved more than horses and when she was little, she always insisted on being nearby when one was ill or hurt. It was all their father could do to convince her that he could manage. Once, he gave in and let her stay the whole night in a stall, gently stroking a colt’s neck. As soon as the colt got better, her father lovingly carried her into the cottage and put her to bed. That was years ago, but Hannish still remembered his father kissing her cheek and carefully laying her down.
Now, she had killed a beloved horse and he couldn’t imagine what torture was going through her mind. All he could do was hope the wine would make her sleep peacefully through this night.
It was not to be.
He had just dozed off in the chair, when McKenna sat straight up in bed and screamed. He quickly moved to sit beside her and took her in his arms. Wearing nothing but a nightshirt, Alistair burst through the door, followed a few seconds later by Prescot.
“You are only dreaming,” said Hannish.
Her eyes were wild when she drew back, “Twas the duchess -- she shot the black stallion.”
“Hush now, ‘tis only a dream.” At length, he felt her relax a little, and when she finally slumped against him, he gently stroked her hair. “Twas not the duchess who shot the horse, was it.”
She finally pulled back again and looked into his eyes. “Nay, ‘twas I.” She wanted to cry, but this time, the tears would not come.
“I know, wee bairn, the judge told me.”
“I had to, the mare was crying, only I didn’t hear her until just now. It was so quiet after…after I shot her.”
“You did right by the horse. I would have done the same.”
“But it was too quiet after. The quiet frightened me.”
“Sleep now, sweetheart.”
“Then I couldn’t find Carl. The carriage was gone, the other horse was gone, even the Judge’s horse was gone…and I couldn’t find Carl.”
“You can tell me in the morning.” Hannish reached for the glass of wine and helped her take two more swallows. He set the glass back on the nightstand, held her for another long moment and then let her lay down. When he glanced back, both butlers, Leesil and Cathleen were watching. “I shall stay with her, go back to bed.”
Reluctantly, each of them left, except Leesil, who came to kiss McKenna on the cheek. “We love you so.”
“I know.” McKenna whispered.
CHAPTER 8
One thing Leesil was learning about her new husband was that no matter what he was doing, he stopped and gave all his attention to her. It was endearing, yet she was careful not to disturb him with matters that could wait until dinner. This morning, she knew he
was waiting for word of McKenna, and knowing he slept in a chair all night, Leesil was worried about him. He went off to work on the cottages just as he did every morning, and she always believed people were prone to get hurt when they were too tired. A balcony adjacent to the ballroom faced Pikes Peak, and in the cool of the evening, it was a favorite place to sit. Not long after she stepped out onto the balcony and folded her arms, he spotted her and came across the lawn.
“McKenna?” he asked, as he took Leesil in his arms.
“Still sleeping.” There was nothing she loved more than to be in his loving arms.
“Good, ‘tis the best medicine for her now.” He drew back and looked into her eyes. “Something else is troubling you, my love. What is it?”
“Abigail called to see about McKenna. Claymore sent the money and Charles is bringing her home on the next available ship.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I cannae stop fretting. With all our troubles, ‘tis so unfair for her to come just now.”
He drew Leesil back into his arms. “Sweetheart, you must not concern yourself so. The fault is mine and I must be the one to put an end to it.”
“It just seems very, very unfair just now.”
*
Lillian watched Hannish kiss his wife and walk back to the construction site. As soon as she was sure Leesil was gone, she closed the window she was washing and considered what she heard. Suddenly, her eyes widened. “They mean to get rid of Charles Whitfield’s wife.”
She was out of peaches and apples to peel, so when Lillian was told to wash windows, she was glad of it. She was beginning to hate it there and often considered leaving Marblestone Mansion. Yet, now there was a new mystery, one involving the wife of Charles Whitfield, and that made her change her mind. Perhaps she would stay just to see what happened.
*
It was odd having two Scots in his house and their vernacular took a bit of getting used to, but Judge Mitchel was gradually learning to understand them. Losing the use of both hands at once frustrated him and he found it embarrassing to ask for help with the simple things, such as combing his hair. He was a proud man who found it unthinkable to need so much help, but Dugan constantly reminded him that a footman needed pay the same as everyone else.
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