Maggie's War

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Maggie's War Page 26

by Terrie Todd


  So why couldn’t he get Maggie out of his mind?

  Then last night, just when he was asking God for guidance about the situation, he was nailed with another clear impression: He saw a picture of Maggie, pounding furiously on a heavy door and glancing over her shoulder in fear. Was she in some kind of trouble?

  He had tried to shake the image off at first. When that didn’t work, he tried to argue. “God, she’s a hundred miles away. She’s safe now, and she is rebuilding her life. She’s made it pretty clear she’s not interested in having another man in her life, messing everything up.”

  But the vision remained, as clear as if Maggie were in the same room. He had no idea what it was about, only that he’d be catching the next afternoon’s train for Winnipeg.

  He disembarked at the Winnipeg train station and looked around at the familiar surroundings. Now what, Lord? He could see the Fort Garry Hotel just a short walk up Broadway Avenue, but Maggie would surely be home from work by now. He shouldn’t just stop in unannounced and empty-handed, though, should he? He should at least pick up something for Mrs. O’Toole.

  No. Just get there. The instruction was clear.

  So Reuben made his way quickly to the first trolley that would get him within walking distance of his old boardinghouse. Snow was falling heavily now, and he thrust his hands deep into his coat pockets as he trudged down the sidewalk. He saw lights glowing through Mrs. O’Toole’s sitting-room window and realized his heart was pounding hard at the thought of seeing Maggie in mere moments. As he let himself through the little gate and walked up to the front door, he could hear a baby crying in full force. Darcy’s lungs had definitely grown stronger since he left! The child seemed to be in deep distress.

  Reuben knocked and waited. Darcy kept wailing on the other side of the door, but no one answered it. Couldn’t they hear him over the baby’s cries? He knocked again, then tried the doorknob. Locked. Clearly, somebody was inside, even if it wasn’t Maggie. He moved around to the sitting-room window and tried to peer in, but the curtains were closed.

  Reuben made his way around to the back door, each step breaking through snowdrifts a foot or more deep. The door to the porch was open and he stepped in and stamped as much snow off as he could. He could still hear Darcy wailing. The kitchen door was unlocked, and he stepped through to see abandoned tea preparations. Between the baby’s cries, Reuben could hear a man’s voice coming from the sitting room. He moved toward the front entry and listened. The voice was vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until he heard Maggie’s voice that he was certain who it was.

  “Earl, just tell me what you want and let the baby go.”

  “I want cooperation at my trial, Maggie. You’ll say exactly what I tell you to.”

  “Absolutely, Earl. I’ll do whatever you say. Please just let Charlotte take the baby and go upstairs. Then we can talk in peace and quiet.”

  “Shut up!”

  Earl sounded drunk or confused. Reuben wished he could find a way to see them without being seen himself. Clearly Earl was somehow endangering Darcy, but which direction was he facing? What was he armed with? The telephone sat just inches from Reuben’s elbow, but there was no way he could speak into it without alerting Earl to his presence. Thanks to Darcy’s screaming, however, he found he could remove the receiver from its cradle without detection. He laid the receiver down gently on the table, then waited another moment before pushing the crank just enough to connect to an operator.

  “I’ll let the kid go as soon as you tell me where Douglas stashed the rest of the stuff, Maggie,” Earl was saying.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Earl.” Maggie’s voice sounded surprisingly strong.

  “Don’t lie to me, Maggot. If you already sold it, I swear I’ll shoot this kid and you too.”

  Earl had a gun. Reuben knew he had no time to lose, and that he held the advantage of surprise. With one long stride, he stepped around the corner into the room. Earl Marshall stood facing Reuben, with the howling Darcy tucked under his left arm like a football. Earl swung the gun in Reuben’s direction, shock registering on his face. Reuben made a wild lunge for the man’s knees. He heard Charlotte scream and Maggie’s cry of “Reuben!” Then the loudest crack he’d ever heard in his life. A gunshot. The baby’s wails grew even louder, if that was possible.

  Reuben hit the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around Earl’s knees. He became acutely aware of a knife-sharp pain in his left shoulder, but he saw Maggie dive for Darcy and wrestle him from Earl’s grip. Another shot fired. Earl must still have the gun.

  Reuben scrambled to climb on top of Earl and pin him facedown to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Maggie flee the room with the baby, but where was Charlotte? Had she too escaped? He clamped one hand down on Earl’s wrist and tried to pry his fingers off the gun with the other. That’s when he realized his own sleeve was soaked with blood, which had begun to seep out onto Mrs. O’Toole’s rug. He managed to pin Earl’s left hand behind his back, but his arm was weakening rapidly and Earl was building momentum, kicking so hard that Reuben rocked back and forth like a rodeo cowboy. Still, the gun remained tightly in Earl’s hand. Another shot cracked the air, deafening Reuben, and then all was eerily silent as the struggle continued. With every ounce of strength, Reuben leaned hard into Earl’s back, willing him to lie still.

  Maggie ran back into the room, this time without Darcy. She dashed straight for the two wrestling men and knelt on the floor. With one knee on Earl’s head, she clamped both her hands over his arm, freeing Reuben’s hands to finally pry the gun loose, though he felt certain he was breaking Earl’s fingers in the process. He slid the pistol across the floor as far as he could, but it hit the wall just short of the doorway and stayed in the room. Maggie was moving her lips and saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear her words, or anything else. He moved to Earl’s feet and held them down, then looked around the room.

  Charlotte lay facedown on the floor, a pool of blood forming around her midsection.

  CHAPTER 49

  Maggie couldn’t believe this was happening. Why, oh why hadn’t the authorities kept Earl Marshall in custody? He was clearly unstable, and now at least four lives were in danger. She heard another shot fired as she reached the bedroom Charlotte shared with her baby. She laid Darcy in his crib, closed the door behind her, and dashed back downstairs, wondering if she would find Charlotte and Reuben both dead and Earl waiting, gun in hand, to finish her off too.

  The telephone receiver lay off its cradle, and Maggie could hear a voice coming from it. She picked it up. “This is the operator; I hear gunshots and screaming. Please give me your address. I can send help. Please give me your—”

  Maggie cut her off by quickly stating the house address, and then laid the receiver on the table again.

  The scene as she rounded the corner into Mrs. O’Toole’s sitting room was like something from a war zone. Charlotte lay slumped near one corner of the room while the two men continued to tussle. She ran to assist and practically sat on Earl’s head, yelling at Reuben to wrench the gun away. It seemed hours passed before she finally saw it slide across the floor and hit the wall with a thud. She noticed that Darcy’s wails were becoming high-pitched screeches and then realized it wasn’t the baby she was hearing but sirens, coming closer. Thank you, Lord!

  “Can you hold him?” Maggie asked Reuben.

  He stared at her with an uncomprehending look in his eyes. His shirt and Earl’s were both soaked with blood, but whose blood was it?

  “Take care of Charlotte,” Reuben yelled.

  The sirens were right outside now and someone was banging on the door.

  “Police! Open up!”

  Maggie ran to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open wide, admitting two police offers with guns drawn. She pointed them toward the sitting room, then ushered in two more officers. Another two had entered through the kitchen. She looked out to the street where three police cars and an ambulance we
re parked, their lights flashing. A handful of neighbors stood in the snow, watching.

  One of the policemen ran back outside, past Maggie toward the ambulance. A second approached her. “Where’s the baby?” he asked. Maggie led him upstairs.

  “Is there anyone else in this house?” he asked.

  “No.” Maggie turned into Darcy’s room and picked him up. The baby was clammy with sweat, his face soaked with tears.

  “Stay here and try to calm him,” the officer instructed. He closed the door on his way out. Maggie moved to the window and watched as two medics carried a stretcher into the house while the police officer spoke to the gathered crowd, which then dispersed quickly. She rocked back and forth until Darcy finally began to settle down, an occasional sob escaping his exhausted little body. Maggie knew he was probably long overdue for a diaper change but didn’t want to risk setting him off again. What was happening downstairs?

  Looking out the window again, she saw Earl being escorted away in handcuffs by two police officers. They pushed him into the rear seat of one car and drove away. Next came Reuben. He was walking, but leaning hard against a medic who appeared to be applying pressure to his shoulder. Reuben had been shot! Maggie could feel hot tears on her cheeks but didn’t bother to wipe them away. Reuben crawled into the ambulance unassisted, and two more medics came out the door carrying Charlotte on a stretcher. Maggie caught her breath. The girl’s face was as white as the sheet she lay on. She watched while they loaded her into the ambulance and then it, too, drove away. Maggie heard footsteps on the stairs.

  “Ma’am? Are you all right?” The police officer who had come upstairs with her earlier now stood in the doorway.

  “Is Charlotte alive? Will she be all right?” Maggie held Darcy so tightly he began to squirm again.

  “They’re taking care of her, ma’am. A neighbor told me you and she are both boarders in this house, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could you come downstairs with me and explain what went on here this evening? You can bring your baby with you, it’s safe now.”

  Maggie didn’t bother to explain that the young woman in the ambulance was the baby’s mother. “Let me change him first?”

  “Certainly. Then come downstairs, please, but let’s sit in the kitchen. The other room will be off-limits until we know if the young lady is going to—”

  His voice trailed off. Maggie stared. The young lady is going to what? Live? Charlotte might die! Oh Lord. Charlotte might die, and it would be all her fault. She should have made the girl go home with her parents. She should have insisted.

  The officer left the room without another word. Maggie changed Darcy’s diaper and noticed red welts and the beginnings of bruises on his little arms and legs. She could still see the crazed look in Earl’s eye as he gripped the baby, and she felt certain that the child might be dead now if not for Reuben’s intervention. Her hands shook as she dressed him in a fresh nightgown and cap. She wrapped him in a clean blanket, then carried him down to the kitchen. She had just sat down when Mrs. O’Toole entered.

  “What is going on in my house?”

  Maggie met the shaken woman at the door, took her coat, and steered her to a chair. “Sit down, Mrs. O’Toole. You might as well hear the story too.”

  By the time Maggie had finished telling her version of events, the police officer taking notes and asking questions the entire time, Darcy had fallen asleep. How long until he became hungry? Maggie wondered.

  “Officer, I must get to the hospital and find out how Charlotte and Reuben are,” she said. “Mrs. O’Toole, can I leave Darcy with you?”

  The woman nodded. “I’ve got canned milk and a baby bottle left from when Charlotte was job hunting. I can get more milk in the morning if we need it. You go.”

  “The hospital is my next stop,” the policeman said. “You may ride with me if you wish.”

  Maggie climbed in beside the police officer and tried to breathe deeply. It was nearly midnight. She felt exhausted and riddled with guilt. Why did she bring trouble wherever she went? Reuben and Charlotte had nothing to do with Earl Marshall, but now they both had suffered wounds at his hand. What if Charlotte didn’t pull through? Oh, Lord, I can’t bear the guilt. Please let them both be all right. Darcy needs his mother. I need her.

  I need Reuben too.

  She recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Reuben had entered the room. Even amid all the confusion and terror of the moment, she had felt joy surge in her heart at the sight of him. What had brought him to Winnipeg now? His infrequent letters indicated he had settled into his position in Roseburg and felt called to stay. Had something happened? Of all the moments for him to walk back into their home!

  Maggie followed the police officer into the emergency ward of the hospital and waited as he inquired at the desk. Though he was given permission to see Charlotte and directed to the room where she was, Maggie—to her frustration—was instructed to wait. Just as she was taking a seat on a hard wooden chair in the waiting area, she saw Reuben being wheeled down the hall toward her. A nurse pushed the chair. Reuben’s left arm was in a sling, but he appeared to be all right otherwise. When he spotted Maggie, he assured the nurse he could walk from there, but she persisted in pushing the chair all the way.

  “Regulations,” she said.

  Maggie stood as he approached, but could barely find her voice. “Are you all right, Reuben?”

  “I’ll be just fine. My shoulder was only grazed.” Reuben abandoned the wheelchair, took Maggie’s hand, and pulled her onto a chair as he sat next to her. “They won’t let me see Charlotte. Have you heard anything?”

  “No.” Maggie wanted to reach out toward Reuben’s wounded shoulder, but refrained. “Does that hurt bad?”

  “Could be much worse.” He held up a bottle of pills. “Painkillers. And you’ll need to speak into this ear for a while.” He pointed to the left side of his face. “Can’t hear out of the other, but they tell me it’ll come back. Have you given your statement to the police?”

  Reuben and Maggie sat together in the waiting area and compared notes. Each of them had heard three shots fired, though which of the shots had struck Charlotte, they didn’t know. Maggie explained how Earl had been released from jail and was waiting for her at the house when she’d arrived home. She told Reuben, as she’d already told the police, that Earl had been threatening her regarding his upcoming trial and seeking information about the whereabouts of some valuables he and Douglas had no doubt hidden somewhere and which he could not find.

  “Is it possible Douglas double-crossed his own brother?” Reuben asked.

  “I wouldn’t put anything past either of them.”

  Maggie could feel Reuben’s eyes on her. She looked up into his face and saw tender concern and love there, which only added to her guilt.

  “Reuben, I am so sorry you got dragged into this. I’ve brought nothing but trouble to you since that day you innocently stopped by to offer your condolences. I never should have asked for your help with Charlotte or with any of this. I’m so sorry—”

  “Maggie. Stop it.”

  “It seems like every time I turn around, I’m facing some new calamity. Do you think I’m cursed or something?”

  “Of course not.”

  Maggie hoped he was right. “What brought you back anyway? And tonight of all times?”

  Reuben said nothing at first. Maggie watched the expression on his face turn to something she couldn’t decipher.

  “Hard to explain,” he said. “I just knew I needed to come. Quickly.”

  Maggie studied his face. “God really does speak to you, doesn’t he?” How she had grown to love him, despite her efforts to deny the feelings that had been deepening in her heart.

  “Yes. He does. I almost never obey quickly enough, though. I question everything. I’d make a lousy soldier, Maggie. Maybe if I’d gotten on an earlier train, the very next train after he told me to come to you . . . maybe Charlotte wouldn�
��t be lying there now. When am I going to learn?”

  “If you hadn’t come when you did, we might have lost Darcy,” Maggie said. “Instead, he’s roughed up a bit, but he’ll be fine.”

  “I wonder what’s taking so long?” Reuben rose to his feet and paced the small room, then sat down again. His face was pale.

  Fresh anxiety rose in Maggie’s chest and she gripped the edge of her chair. “What if she doesn’t pull through, Reuben? I won’t be able to bear it. I should have urged her to return home with her parents.”

  Reuben turned to face Maggie. “And never see her son again?” He shook his head slowly. “That would have killed her more certainly than any bullet.”

  CHAPTER 50

  Charlotte wondered how she’d landed in the beautiful meadow. Never in her life had she been surrounded by such beauty and peace. There wasn’t another soul in sight. The sun shone warm on her skin, the sky a brilliant azure. She turned and looked around. As far as she could see, in all directions stretched fields of wildflowers in every color she’d ever seen and more. Their fragrance dizzied her, and she closed her eyes and lay back on the soft grass, breathing deeply. She could hear birds twittering and the faint buzz of a bee as it flittered from flower to flower. She didn’t feel hungry or thirsty. Nothing hurt. If only she could stay here forever.

  But where was Darcy?

  Then suddenly, it was as if she were being sucked backward through a narrow tunnel against her will. No. Let me stay! The sunlight darkened to a cold, gray haze. The sounds of the birds morphed into sounds that were almost human in nature, but the words were indiscernible. The flowers faded to white and then disappeared altogether. Gradually, Charlotte became aware of every muscle in her body, as one by one they began to hurt. Her head pounded, her back ached. Her arms and legs felt pinned to the ground. A pain near her ribs made her want to cry out, but she hadn’t the strength to do so. Oh, please let me go back.

 

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