“I’m not an invalid, Margaret. I’m going to have a baby. But thank you. Please, go on. Don’t stop now.”
“Don’t you want to sit again?” Margaret asked, glancing at the vacant chairs.
“Not quite yet. I need to get some blood back into my legs. A little walk around the room will do nicely.” Evelyn finally smiled. “I can handle this, Margaret. I want to know more. Please.”
Knowing her words had cast a gloom over the day, Margaret hoped she could cheer up Evelyn. “Your mother was not only a beauty, but was delightful to speak with. She had a spark, a love of life that shone through her eyes. People flocked around her like bees to honey. After you were born, that changed a little. She held back and was more reserved. But that was totally understandable, under the circumstances.”
“How old was she when she came to live with you?”
Margaret watched Evelyn walk slowly to the kitchen, and then start back. Her mouth pinched as if she were having more pain. “I believe Estelle was twenty-five or twenty-six.”
Surprise crossed her face. “That old?”
Margaret laughed. “That’s hardly old, dear.”
“I mean old for still being single.”
“That never seemed important to Estelle; at least, she never spoke about being unmarried with me. She loved to read and learn. She enjoyed teaching very much. She was an extremely happy person.”
“You mean, before she had me.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. She loved you with all her heart. She was always the happiest when the two of you were together. You remember that, don’t you? Mother and daughter having a picnic in the backyard under the alders.”
“Yes. I remember. We’d sit by the carp pond for hours, just talking and whiling away the time after her work was finished in the house.”
“Evelyn,” Margaret said in a soft whisper, hoping that her goddaughter would believe her. “I never wanted your mother to be our housekeeper. I wanted her to get another job. I offered to watch you so she could. Told her she could stay with us for as long as she liked—without paying. But she’d have none of that. She kept house to pay for the room and board for the two of you, but I think perhaps her reasons were more than that.”
For several long seconds, Evelyn stared at Margaret. “The only places she’d take me were the library or the weekend farmers’ market. Why was she so afraid?”
Estelle had never sworn Margaret to secrecy, but it was inferred. “I’m not totally sure, Evelyn, because your mother never said exactly, but I believe your father must have been an important man. Someone of great power. I think she worried he’d try to take you away from her.” She shook her head. “I don’t really know, but in most matters, your mother was fearless.”
“That’s why I never went to school?”
Margaret nodded.
Evelyn rubbed her stomach and returned to her chair after several trips to the kitchen and back. Her smile tightened. “She must have wanted more from her life, don’t you think? I mean, I know she loved living with you and the colonel. I just think she must have been lonely.”
“I don’t know. She loved you more than life itself. You made her happy, Evelyn. She was content with that.”
That wasn’t a lie. If Estelle had wanted more, she’d have moved or found another way. But she’d stayed. Was that because she couldn’t bear to be far from Evelyn’s father? Or to start anew with someone else? That was an answer they’d never know—not now.
Margaret hoped her responses had been enough for Evelyn. She prayed she hadn’t made the situation worse.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Shad pulled the blanket up over his shoulder, seeking comfort in his makeshift bed. The lobby was quiet and the iron stove had been stuffed with wood. He breathed out a deep sigh of fatigue. Running this hotel almost took more out of him than his regular chores on the ranch. Even Hickory’s chatter would be a welcome change over Oscar’s constant complaints.
He stifled a yawn. Finding and apprehending Sanger had not been difficult. If the man had had a weapon, that would have been a different story. After leaving the woman to Justin, Shad and Brandon conducted a thorough search of the premises. It only took minutes to find Sanger nearly frozen in the basement. He was now locked in the cell opposite the woman, who was not even his wife. Justin had learned that fact since arresting her.
Somewhere in the hotel, a woman shrieked in terror.
Jerked from his sleepy thoughts, Shad sat up. He’d know Poppy’s voice anywhere. Reaching for his gun, he bolted toward his old room on the first floor behind the dining room.
He entered and saw Poppy thrashing on the bed as if she’d been dunked in hot oil. Crossing in three strides, he tried to take her shoulders, but she fought him like an angry badger. With nothing left to do, he sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her into his arms none too gently as he ducked and dodged her flailing limbs.
“Shh, it’s just a bad dream. A nightmare. You don’t have to worry about Sanger. He’s locked up tight. He can’t hurt you again.”
She stilled.
Did he dare loosen his grip? He didn’t want to get smacked in the face. Cautiously, he leaned back.
Her eyelids fluttered as she gradually awakened. She blinked and then turned her head, hiding her face in the folds of his coat.
“What were you fighting?” he asked. “You’re strong when you want to be.”
Now that she was awake, he silently chastised himself for not taking one more moment to caress her silky hair. The desire had been taunting him for days.
When she didn’t answer, he said, “Poppy, you awake? I saw you open your eyes.”
With her still clamped against his chest, he felt her nod. He gently tipped her face so he could see into her eyes.
“There you are,” he whispered and then smiled. “Would you like me to light the lamp?”
“No. I want you to lie down and hold me. Would that be terrible?”
He didn’t care if the action was improper. He realized he’d do anything for Poppy. Anything in the world. “Not at all.” He moved without making noise, getting up and closing the open bedroom door.
At the opposite side of the bed, he sat and swung up his legs after kicking off his boots. He gently gathered her into his arms, cradling her onto his chest. He drew the blankets over them both, getting warm and comfortable. Her fire burned low and would need some wood soon. He should have taken care of that before getting situated.
“Tell me about your dream,” he whispered. “If you talk about the scariness, maybe it won’t come back. Were you dreaming of Sanger?”
She stayed silent, but he could tell she was listening. Her arm tightened over his chest.
“It wasn’t Sanger. I was home. In Boston,” she said, her voice quavering. “I was alone in the big house.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“I went upstairs to my room, but everything was different. A hay pallet had replaced my bed. Snow was piled high on the walls. Then a large wolf lunged at my throat.” She gasped and began to cry, hugging him with force.
“A nightmare is all. No wolf’s gonna get you.”
“I felt his hot breath on my face. My heart was about to explode because my feet were nailed to the floor and I couldn’t run.” She sobbed, gripping him all the tighter. “I can’t describe the frightening sensation.” She panted a few times. “And, the worst of all, Kathryn appeared. She didn’t try to help me. But I don’t blame her. Not one bit.”
“It was a bad dream. Nothing else. I have ’em all the time. And mine never make any sense either.” He felt her look up at his face.
“Really?”
“Well, no, not that often.”
A sob ripped out. “Shad, stop. The nightmare does make sense. You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know me at all.”
He thought about that as he stared up at the ceiling. What was she talking about? “Hogwash. I know you plenty.”
Poppy pushed up on an elbow an
d glared down in his face. “No, you don’t. You only know what I’ve let you see. I’m a horrible person. Shallow and self-centered. I don’t care about anyone’s feelings except my own.”
His chuckle escaped before he had a chance to fight it back. She was being sincere. Really believed her crazy statements. He didn’t want her to think he thought light of what she was saying.
“I’m being serious, Shad. My whole life, I’ve been cruel to Kathryn—for no reason at all. But she’s always been so kind in return.” Poppy rolled her face onto her nearest hand, for a moment covering her mouth. “I’ve been the worst sort of sister, if I can even call myself that. I don’t know why she even still speaks to me.”
Hearing another sob, he laid a palm on her cheek, admiring the softness. For a moment, she nudged in closer.
She really believes this.
“Poppy, here’s what I know to be true. I’ve seen you care for everyone in this hotel. You saved Fancy by risking your own life. You’ve looked after April, May, and July as if they were your own. I’ve seen you wrap up your food and go hungry so you could give it to them. You always have a kind word for the Grants, even when you’re bone tired.” He gave her a shake. “Stop selling yourself short. Even Harold. You loaned him your cape.”
“I’m talking about Kathryn.” Poppy wiped her wet cheeks and sniffed. “I don’t know why I’ve acted this way, except I’ve seen my father do it all my life. But that doesn’t give me license to follow his horrible example.”
“To me, you sound like you’re sorry.”
She collapsed onto his chest again. Unaware, he was sure, of the torment she caused him.
“I am. With all my heart. I just never really gave my behavior much thought until my eyes were opened while staying at her farm. But now I know. Being stuck in this hotel, my attitude is all that I think about night and day. I wish I could do everything over. Be a better sister. Be exactly like her.”
Shad ran his hand up and down her arm. “You can fix that. If you really believe everything you’ve just said, tell her. Explain the situation just like you told me. That’s all an apology will take. We all have regrets, but it’s never too late to change a direction. That is, until we die.”
Again, she lifted herself up and stared down into his face. The sincerity in her eyes made his heart tremble.
“You’re sure?” she whispered.
“Positive. I promise.”
Wonderful. Against his better judgment, he’d gone and fallen in love with Poppy. Now they’d both have a heartbreak to get over.
Before he realized her intentions, he felt her lips on his as if she’d never kissed a man in her life.
Am I her first?
She was uncertain, and the kiss was soft. Her lips were incredibly silky in spite of the cold weather. He stayed completely still, fearful she’d pull away.
After a short time, she slipped down to his chest before he could see what she was thinking. No more talk was heard, just feeling, wanting. Her hand on his chest felt like a fiery brand.
He’d never leave her, but he couldn’t give her what she deserved. What every woman deserved. Half a man could never do that.
Until tonight, he hadn’t felt the full weight of his medical condition. Living without her would be unbearable.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Wednesday morning, in a fog of confusion, Poppy stood in the lobby of the hotel, staring out the front window. Everything was still frozen and white. She’d been living here over two weeks. Plenty of time to get to know Shad, to become enamored and mixed up.
Outside, a few people dared the slippery boardwalk or rode a horse through the knee-deep snow. At least in some areas, the wind had reduced the depth. They were all thankful for that. Shad said the conditions weren’t that way everywhere.
What should she do? Especially after last night. They’d lain together. They’d kissed.
Poppy dragged her jumbled thoughts back to safer ground. Since being watched by Poppy, Hildy, and Lenore, the three tykes seemed much happier. Sanger’s pretend wife had become scared and confessed that the man she’d taken up with learned about the children from someone. He’d heard they had rich relatives somewhere. Locating the farm hadn’t been difficult. Out of sight of the children, they’d hit their father over the head and dumped him in the river while unconscious to drown.
What would happen to the children now? As outlandish as the idea sounded, Poppy wanted to keep the three siblings. When she was caring for them, something inside her changed for the better. She wanted to become that person all the time. She supposed Sheriff Crawford was contacting towns now, trying to figure out where they’d lived. As much as July tried, he couldn’t remember. Once contact was made and the snow receded enough, someone would arrive to escort them to their new home. They would be out of her life for good. Her heart shuddered at the thought.
She breathed on the windowpane and drew a small heart. Someday I’ll have children of my own, she thought, the possibility not softening the hurt she felt now. How could she ever forget July, May, and April? That wasn’t possible.
A sound made her turn.
Mr. and Mrs. Grant slowly made their way down the stairway. The elderly woman had a bear hold on the stair rail, and her husband had a tight grip on her elbow, making sure she didn’t fall.
Poppy hesitated for a moment, recalling Shad’s words. Was what he said true? She hadn’t noticed her acts of doing for others. Maybe, if she hoped hard enough, the woman he’d pointed out might be real.
She hurried forward and climbed the few remaining stairs. “Here, let me assist you down,” she said, taking an arm of each person.
The poor things were cold. Everyone was exhausted from the meager rations. Hunger never left their thoughts. The turkeys Shad brought in two days ago had been a welcome addition, but it hadn’t taken long to polish them off. Now they were back to the usual fare.
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Grant said when her feet were safely on the wooden floor of the lobby. “We came down to sit by the fire.”
“You’re in luck. The chairs are empty.”
Poppy kept her hold on the unstable woman until Mrs. Grant was in the chair only a couple of feet from the warm stove. Her husband took the other chair while Poppy opened the iron door and added more logs. She was rather proud of becoming so self-sufficient. In the old days, she would have rung for a servant to do that chore. Finished, Poppy stood, intent on returning to her post at the window and watching the little doings of the outside world.
Mrs. Grant caught her arm. “One moment, dear.”
Startled, Poppy glanced from Mrs. Grant to her husband, who smiled and shrugged. “Yes? What is it? Can I get you both a cup of tea? I know for a fact Cook was warming water a few minutes ago.” They were probably as hungry as she was. Hot water helped to dull the ache.
“Oh no.” Mrs. Grant patted the arm she still held. “I just wanted to thank you for looking after us as you do. You’re like a devoted granddaughter. We appreciate all the care you’ve showered on us since this ordeal began.”
Poppy’s face heated. No one had ever thanked her for helping. “I haven’t done much.”
“You’ve done everything.”
“She’s right, young lady,” Mr. Grant added. “You’ve made us feel right at home, as much as one can in these conditions. We won’t forget your kindness.”
Now released from Mrs. Grant’s grasp, Poppy slowly returned to the window, emotions swirling within. Shad’s words from the middle of the night kept taunting her.
What did he think—really think—of her after she’d shared her heart about Kathryn? Was righting a wrong as easy as he said, just talking with Kathryn and telling her how she felt? Saying she was sorry?
Maybe, maybe not. And certainly not for Tobit. His words would be forever carved on Poppy’s heart, and perhaps that was just another mark of her arrogance. Was she more concerned about how he thought of her than how she had treated Kathryn for all these years?
> She sighed, and a ring of fog grew on the glass. No way of knowing. Except to try.
Across the street, Berta May came out of her shop. The woman was bundled from head to toe. She inched forward and looked up and down the deserted street. Her breath streamed out in a straight line, and her arms wrapped around her substantial figure.
Poppy knocked hard on the glass and waved.
“Wh-what was that?” Mrs. Grant asked, caution in her voice.
Looking over her shoulder, Poppy laughed. “Oh, just an acquaintance across the street. The owner of the fabric store has stepped outside. I was trying to get her attention.”
“Ah, I see. You go ahead and pound away then. Just be sure not to break the glass. Since the collapse upstairs, keeping this place warm has been all the more impossible. I can’t imagine if Mr. Petty had to board up the window too.”
Ah. Mr. Petty. Shad. The man was never far from her thoughts.
“Yes, I can imagine. We wouldn’t like that very much.”
Poppy waved again, and this time Berta May saw her and enthusiastically waved back, a smile wide across her face. Being able to get out and interact with others would be so nice. These walls had closed in on her a long time ago. She needed to get some fresh air. See the sky overhead . . .
Chapter Fifty-Four
Poppy was still at the window when someone behind her cleared their throat. Shad? She hoped not. What would she say? How would she face him after she’d gone and kissed him like that? Why had she been so stupid?
Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned.
“Ossy,” she said, unable to hide her surprise.
His brow fell. “Don’t look so disappointed.”
“I’m not,” she fibbed. “You’re speaking to me today? Why?”
“I thought it time to bury the hatchet.” His all-knowing smile appeared. “Plus I have a surprise.”
He’d captured her interest. Anything from the ordinary was welcome.
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