Heart pounding, Eli barely heard and didn’t acknowledge the comments and taunts from behind the bars, or even the anguished cries—but he searched the faces. After all these years, would he recognize her? If he remembered correctly, the woman who’d talked to Caleb was in one of the last cells.
“This place is more like a prison than a hospital,” Nathaniel said.
Eli increased his pace. “Part of an old fort. I heard they’re building a new facility further out from town.”
They’d neared the end of the hallway. Where was she? As they reached the last cell, he noticed there was one woman who hadn’t moved to the door to look at them. Wearing a baggy dress, she lay on a cot, facing in the opposite direction. She appeared to be a tiny, birdlike woman, like he’d seen talking to Caleb.
Could it be her? In his memories Mama was hale and hearty. Of course she wouldn’t be after all these years.
Standing in front of the bars, Eli called her name. No response. His heart sank…until he noticed the woman had stilled. “Cordelia Calhoun,” he called again. Still nothing.
Gripping the iron bars until his knuckles turned white, Eli leaned forward and softly said, “What are we having for supper tonight, Mama?”
At that, the woman rolled over facing them, but still she didn’t speak. Her brown eyes were fixed on Eli as if she was hypnotized, until Nathaniel stepped into view.
“I imagine we’ll have wind pudding” Nathaniel said. “I can’t remember what goes with it. Do you?”
Eli gripped the bars tighter. Please, Mama.
The woman spoke then, only a whisper, but it reverberated through Eli’s head. The words were unmistakable. “We’ll have rabbit tracks, boys.”
“Ma…” Nathaniel’s voice broke.
Throat so tight he could barely speak, Eli turned to the woman with the keys. “Open the door.”
“I can’t do that,” she said, looking at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses.
“Please.”
The woman inside the cell was on her feet now and moving slowly toward the bars. “My babies,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “Am I dreaming?”
Eli’s gaze swung back and forth between the two women. “Please, open the door.”
“No, sir,” the guard said. “I’m not about to lose my job.”
Eli drew his gun. “Open this door, right now, or so help me, I will blow the lock off.”
The guard stepped back from his fury.
Nathaniel intervened, placing his hand on Eli’s arm. “Put that gun away,” he said, before addressing his next remarks to the woman with the keys. “Where’s the doctor?”
She flashed an angry glance at Eli, before grudgingly answering. “He should be in his office.”
“Get him,” Eli snapped. He added, “Please,” when Nathaniel gave him a pointed look.
The woman shuffled off, muttering something about folks who think they’re better than everybody else.
Eli turned his attention back to his mother. She was sagging a little, like she could drop any moment. Please God, don’t let anything happen to her. Not now. “Hang on, Mama, we’re going to get you out of here.”
As they waited, Eli kept repeating his plea to God over and over again, unable to say more. He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him.
It was the same man he’d met on his previous visit, and at first the doctor’s welcome was friendly. But as soon as Eli said he wanted to take one of the patient’s away, the man’s expression tightened.
“I can’t let her walk out of here,” the doctor said. Although Eli and Nathaniel tried to explain what had happened, they didn’t really know enough about the circumstances to present a valid argument. And, understandably, that seemed to bother the doctor.
“I admit that I’m not sure what happened to her,” Eli said, “or how she got here. However, I am sure she’s my mother. And she is not spending another night in this place.”
Again, Nathaniel placed a hand on Eli’s arm. Even though Eli normally admired his brother’s calm temperament, right now it was aggravating him no end. But Nathaniel suddenly surprised him.
“If you don’t let her go,” Nathaniel said softly, “then you can look forward to having the two of us camped outside this cell. And if you try to forcibly remove us, we will call in every favor we’ve ever been offered. You may be surprised how many people feel they owe a lawman and a physician.”
Eli was impressed by Nathaniel’s bluff, until he realized he might not be bluffing. He had no idea what his brother had done, or who he’d known, in the years they’d been separated.
About to throw in his own threats, Eli noticed the change in the doctor’s expression. “You’re a physician?”
Nathaniel nodded. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say so? I can release her to you.”
Eli’s knees went weak with relief.
After several moments of inquiry regarding Nathaniel’s credentials, the doctor motioned for the nurse to unlock the door. “Dr. Calhoun, you’ll need to stop by my office and sign some papers before you leave. Remember, you two are fully responsible for whatever happens from here on out.”
“Not a problem,” Nathaniel assured him. He turned and followed the doctor, and then stopped as Eli emerged from the cell carrying their mother. “Just a minute,” Nathaniel said.
Retracing his steps, Nathaniel reached out and placed a hand against his mother’s head. Tears filled Eli’s eyes, as he saw them course down his brother’s face.
“I’m so sorry, Mama,” Nathaniel whispered. “We didn’t know.”
* * *
Long before the train reached Moccasin Rock, Cordelia Calhoun was asleep on the seat across from Eli and Nathaniel.
When news had spread that she was going home, one of the nurses, a kinder one, had found a dress and a bonnet for her to wear. “They’re not much to look at,” she said, “but they’re decent.”
Cordelia walked out of the asylum between her sons, head high. Only the tightening of her hand on Eli’s arm had given any indication of how scared she was.
At the train station she’d been frightened of the crowd, and even the train. Had she ever seen one before?
After they’d boarded, she’d relaxed a little, and then dozed off about the time Eli realized that he didn’t know what needed to happen next.
Part of him wanted to never let her out of his sight. But this was a woman he didn’t really know anymore. And she didn’t know him. He doubted if she’d had any problems when she’d been committed. What about now?
Would she wake up scared? Would she try to escape? How had she been treated? How did she even get to the asylum to start with?
He and Nathaniel discussed it quietly, noticing after several moments that their mother was listening to every word. Her eyes were wide open as she regarded them.
Voice quivering, she said, “You’re not going to leave me somewhere, are you?”
They both froze, staring at her.
“No, we’d never do that,” Nathaniel said.
“You’re safe,” Eli assured her, “we’re not about to let you go.” After a moment he said, “Do you really remember us, Mama?”
She stared at him, eyes searching his face, and Eli’s heart sank.
Then she gave him a tired smile. “You’re Elijah Travis Calhoun and Nathaniel Houston Calhoun. The last time I saw you, you were little boys. Now, you’re the spittin’ image of your father. And I missed it all.”
At the mention of Amos Calhoun, Eli shot a look at Nathaniel. They still hadn’t told her about their father. Before he could fret over how to tell her, she took the decision out of his hands.
“Amos is dead, isn’t he?”
Startled, Eli nodded. “Yes, Mama, he is. How did you know?”
“Because he would’ve come for me, if he could’ve.”
“So would we,” Eli said. “But we all believed you were dead.”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. “Why did you
think that?”
“That’s what the old man who lived down the road told us.”
Her fingers clenched the armrest. “Mr. Pedlam?”
“Yes,” Eli said. “When the cabin caught fire, and we couldn’t get to you, we ran to his house. He told us to stay inside, and that he’d go check it out. He came back later and told us that Indians had set fire to the place and that you were gone. And we were going to live with him.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered. “No. The Indians did start the fire, but that man was the one responsible for me being gone.”
Eli stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“I ran when the Indians got there, going in the opposite direction of the creek in case they heard me. I wanted to draw them away from the two of you. When I heard them leaving, I crawled out and crept back to the house. It was burning. They’d ripped open the pillows, there were feathers everywhere. They’d even poured out the molasses. What they hadn’t destroyed, they’d carried off. Mr. Pedlam found me crying. Instead of helping, he attacked me. Then when the Indians came back—drawn by my screams—that old man gave me to them. Like I was his to give.”
Her face took on an anguished expression. “I can’t believe that he took everything from me. And that he raised you two.”
“He didn’t,” Eli hastened to assure her. “We left not long afterwards. We didn’t like him. We never saw him again.” Thankfully, that old man was dead. Eli wasn’t sure he could’ve kept from killing him.
“You left?” his mother said. “Where did you go? Who took you in?”
“We can talk about that later, Mama. Please, try to get some sleep.”
She dozed again, finally, but even in her sleep, she seemed heartbroken. Eli didn’t know exactly when they would talk about the lost years. He did know that she would never, ever hear most of what had happened to him and Nathaniel.
Maggie Radford, Lucinda in her arms, was waiting for them at the station. The telegraph office in Cartersville was right next to the train depot. Eli had sent a telegram to Caleb, asking him to tell Maggie what had happened. Now, the first words out of Maggie’s mouth were music to Eli’s ears.
“Peg Harmon asked me to offer you her hospitality, ma’am. She had someplace else she needed to be. She wanted me to assure you that she knows both of your sons, and holds them in the highest regard. She would be delighted for you to stay with her.”
His mother shot a scared look at him, which Maggie, mercifully, seemed to interpret. “I know things are a bit unsettled,” Maggie said, “and I’m a stranger to you. You don’t have to make any decisions now. Perhaps you’d all like to join us for supper.”
“That sounds good to me,” Eli said. “Is that okay with you, Mama?”
His mother nodded, hesitantly.
Please, Lord, help me know what to do.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Maggie was up at first light the next morning. She stoked the fire in the stove, and after feeding Lucinda, she began making biscuits. She wanted to have a hot breakfast waiting for Mrs. Calhoun.
Despite Maggie’s best efforts, the meal they’d all shared the night before had been awkward. It had obviously been years since Cordelia Calhoun had sat at a table with others, and her nervousness and anxiety had spread to her sons.
Although it was clear that Eli and Nathaniel were thrilled to have their mother again, it was also obvious that none of them knew how to act, or what to say.
Maggie, probably more than any other in the room, had understood what Mrs. Calhoun had become accustomed to. Even she wondered exactly how much the woman had suffered.
Trying to think of safe topics of discussion through the course of the meal was difficult. Talking about Lucinda or Brody only served as a reminder of all that Mrs. Calhoun had missed with her own children, as did talking about what was going on in the world.
Despite the stilted conversation, Cordelia Calhoun held herself with dignity, and when Maggie placed the meal on the table, the older woman had reached out a hand to each of her sons, and bowed her head. Whatever else she’d forgotten through the years, she’d remembered some of the things that were important to her.
And Mrs. Calhoun wasn’t the only woman that impressed Maggie. Once again, Peg Harmon had stepped up. She’d returned from seeing a patient about halfway through the meal, and had breezed into the kitchen, inviting Cordelia to stay and telling her how much she’d enjoy having someone closer to her own age to visit with. Cordelia had thanked her and accepted the offer, but was still ill at ease. Hopefully, today would go better.
Maggie reached for a towel and wiped her hands when a knock sounded at the back door. She opened it to find Eli standing there, hat in hand.
“Good morning,” he said.
Glad that she’d brushed her hair and dressed for the day, Maggie motioned him in. “Good morning.”
She waved him toward a chair, but he remained standing. “Can’t stay but a minute. I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for Mama last night. I think it will get easier, with time. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” Maggie said sincerely, “and you’re welcome.”
“Have you seen her this morning?”
“No, I’m the only one up right now,” she said. “I’m making breakfast.”
“Okay. I’ll come back by later.”
He seemed uneasy. What was wrong?
Suddenly, Eli smiled. “I have this memory of kissing you while I was distracted. Do you remember that?”
Only forever. “Yes.”
“Mind if I try it again?”
“I don’t mind.”
Pulling her close, Eli placed his lips on hers, feather light at first, then with increasing firmness. He smelled like shaving soap and the cold air from outdoors, and tasted like peppermint. A delicious combination.
Maggie wrapped her arms around his neck. Gathering her closer to his chest, Eli deepened the kiss. Several times during their pretend courtship she’d been swoony, but now Maggie was breathless in a way she’d never experienced.
When Eli finally drew back, he leaned his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. Then he turned away and opened the door, stopped, turned back, and pulled her close again. Hands framing her face, he kissed her. “That was even better than I thought it would be,” he whispered.
Maggie was glad he seemed as off balance as she was. He opened his mouth to say something else when they heard footsteps on the porch. They stepped away from each other before Ruthie appeared at the back door.
“From my Mama,” the girl said, holding up a jar. “Plum jelly.”
Face burning, Maggie took the jar. “Tell your mother I said thank you.”
Eli winked at Maggie, said bye to Ruthie, and was gone. The little girl left a moment later.
Maggie resumed the breakfast preparations, peeling potatoes to pan fry, glad to have some time alone to gather her composure. She smiled at Eli’s last words. The kiss, or kisses, had been even better than she’d imagined, too.
She looked down to see that she’d peeled the potato nearly to nothing. Better keep her mind on her work.
When breakfast was ready, and there was still no sign of Cordelia Calhoun, Maggie began to worry. In the hall, she listened at the door. Nothing.
A gentle tap on the door prompted a soft reply. Had she said come in? Maggie eased the door open to find Mrs. Calhoun dressed in the clothes that Peg had loaned her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap. She raised anxious eyes to meet Maggie’s gaze.
“Good morning,” Maggie said.
“Morning.”
It took a moment for Maggie to realize what was happening. Cordelia wasn’t used to doing anything without specific instructions.
Heart hurting, Maggie pulled a chair away from the wall and sat down closer to the bed. Last night’s attempts at normal conversation couldn’t be repeated.
“I made some breakfast,” Maggie said, “and I have hot coffee, or tea, if you prefer. You can eat her
e, or in the kitchen. Whatever you feel comfortable doing.”
“I appreciate it,” the woman said, but still seemed unable to make a decision.
“Is it okay if I bring some tea in for both of us?”
Cordelia smiled at her. “Yes.”
Maggie brought a tray and placed it on the bedside table.
Once they were both holding a cup, Maggie said, “You have a lot to adjust to, and I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can. I also wanted to share with you that I, too, have recently been confined to an asylum.”
Mrs. Calhoun gaped at her in astonishment.
“It was for several weeks,” Maggie continued, then told her about Hollis Anderson, and the fire at Fair Haven, and how she’d escaped, and how her sons had helped her since then.
Cordelia listened to Maggie’s story, never once offering a comment, but her facial expressions revealed a genuine interest and concern, and an empathetic nature. She smiled when Maggie talked about what wonderful men Eli and Nathaniel were.
“Do you mind if I ask how it happened for you?” Maggie finally asked.
The woman opened her mouth several times before any words emerged. “It was so many years ago, but I remember some.”
Maggie listened in growing horror as the woman told her about the Indian raid, and then the man who’d harmed her instead of helping. And then when she’d thought the worst was over, how he’d given her to the Indians.
“They tied a rope around me and made me walk behind them as we left,” Cordelia said. “If I fell, they dragged me.”
A knot formed in Maggie’s stomach. She didn’t want to hear more, but this woman needed to tell someone.
“I knew there was worse in store,” Cordelia said. “When we got to their village one of the squaws demanded they get rid of me. Normally, the women didn’t have any say in that sort of thing, but she was furious. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, and I don’t think she was trying to spare me. But she wanted me gone, that was clear. And I wanted to oblige her. While they were arguing about it, one of the littlest kids clustered around began crying. Nobody was paying him any mind. Without thinking about it, I picked the boy up and placed his head on my shoulder, rocking him back and forth. He hushed up immediately. That Indian woman looked at me with the strangest expression.”
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