“Are you in pain?”
She peered at him with one eye. “Truth?”
“If you trust me.” He smiled as he handed her a cup of water. He knew the answer either way. He’d experienced more than one bullet piercing his flesh. One took nearly two weeks for the discomfort to subside.
“Worse than when Mara Jean accidentally dumped scalding water on my foot.” She closed her eye. “Please don’t tell Ellie. I don’t think I can handle another spoonful of medicine.”
He swiped a clean cloth across the table, knocking flour dust to the floor. “Your secret is safe with me for the moment.”
He dusted the chairs and then began sweeping the floor. Curiosity burned in his gut. He wanted to know more about the threats against the Sims. “Was this the first fire?”
Her head rolled along the back of the chair. Her brow furrowed. “Someone set fire to the barn last spring. It was a month after a Mr. Henry had arrived with a generous offer from the railroad. I had no choice but to refuse, given that the land isn’t mine, yet and Hamish was gallivanting somewhere as usual.”
The tension that had been knotted in his neck and shoulders since the fire loosened. He didn’t recognize the name. It most definitely wasn’t his partner, which removed the burden of guilt he’d taken on.
“Of course, his idea of generous and ours were as wide as the Mississippi River. There had been incidents before the fire. Our crops trampled, animals missing. Every few weeks something happened. The night of the fire, it was dark. A storm brewed just west of us. We were trying to settle the animals.”
As he listened to her story he had hoped there was the possibility that lightning had struck, causing the fire.
“The animals were restless, making noise.” She shivered as she closed her eyes. “Eerie screams, the oxen were restless. The Old Nag even reared up. The whole time we thought it was the storm, and before we knew it we were surrounded by torches.”
Anger burned in his blood.
“I had never been so frightened. I still see them. The torches darting at us, threatening to set us on fire.”
He clenched his teeth. It was by the grace of God his partner wasn’t involved in tormenting Camy, because Duncan didn’t know what he’d do if he had been. He’d served under a merciless captain, and although the man confiscated homes and stolen food, he hadn’t treated women in such a manner.
“We never saw their faces. They’re always faceless shadows.”
She didn’t need to tell him the shadows visited her dreams. He knew, he had experienced many fitful nights. Many nights he’d been the monster chasing soldiers too young to grow facial hair. Other nights he was no more than a young boy himself reaching for his mother to save her from his father. Duncan knelt beside her and took her hand in his. His mind raced to earlier in the morning when he’d kissed her cheek without a thought to the consequences.
Tired doelike eyes looked at him, and he longed to pull her into his arms and comfort her until sleep found her.
She sipped the water. “I said more than I should. It is our problem and ours alone.”
“Camy, nobody should have to endure that sort of fear. Ever. I am sorry you and your sisters have been left to defend yourselves. I cannot pretend to know Hamish’s reasons for leaving you, but I don’t understand his cowardice.” He rose and raked a hand through his hair. If he told her he was an investor for the railroad, he’d lose what little trust he’d gained. “I would like to find out more about this Mr. Henry. He could be an imposter.”
“We have thought of that, as he was young and shabbily dressed, but Hamish seems to think the rotter is a hired hand.”
The door pushed open, and Hound bounded into the cabin. He nudged his nose against Duncan’s hand for a pat and then sat near Camy’s feet. Ellie shouldered her way through the door with a water bucket and a large pot. Duncan took the bucket from her and set it down near the fireplace.
Ellie held the pot in the air. “Chicken for our guest.”
Duncan’s stomach rumbled at the prospect of a heartier meal.
“Unfortunately it will be a while before it’s ready.” Camy stood to her feet and wobbled. “I should rest.”
Duncan didn’t think Camy was the type to claim weakness. She was either avoiding further conversation or she really didn’t feel well. The crimson color of her cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes told him the truth. Her steps looked laborious. Duncan thought to aid her, but Ellie was quick to grab her elbow and walk Camy to the bed.
“The road to town looks to be clearing. If Benjamin doesn’t arrive with Mara today, he’ll be here first thing.” Ellie slid off Camy’s shoes, scooted her legs under the covers and tucked the blanket around her.
“I’ll be fine. I just need rest.”
Duncan’s heart clenched at the mere whisper of her words. He wondered how much of the morning’s fire had to do with her downward turn. He silently prayed she had only overtaxed herself and needed to rest. He swept up the remaining flour and tossed the dust into the fire and then sat at the table. The heavy family tome lay in the center where he’d left it two nights before. He pulled it to him and traced the intricate gold letters spelling out the word Bible. He opened the cover. Heavy scripted ink detailed the sisters’ lineage as well as their births. Ellie had been born in Scotland, Camy and Mara in Indiana along with another sibling, a boy by the name, who’d died at birth with Camy’s mother. His heart ached at the loss of her mother, knowing how much he had loved his and how much it had devastated him when she fell ill.
He turned the book to a random page, Proverbs eighteen. He read over each verse, reciting it in his mind until he came to verse twenty-two. Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.
He rested his chin on top of his intertwined fingers and gazed upon the woman beneath a mound of covers. Her soft snores intermingled with Hound’s louder ones from the rug beside the bed and the hen’s purring. He truly did not want the bother of a wife. At least he hadn’t until he realized she was the one his friend had intended for him to marry. And even then he knew he wouldn’t offer her a real marriage, and that was the battle raging inside his mind. Because now he wondered what sort of husband he would make her, and what sort of wife she would make him. He chuckled to himself; she was the sort of woman who kept a mangy mutt and a crippled hen inside her home.
His mother had done that. Not the chicken, but goats, pigs and rabbits. Every lame animal that had crossed his mother’s path had ended up in their home until it was nursed back to health. It drove his father to madness whenever he cared to come home. Duncan had a feeling Camy was the driving force behind the care of the animals rather than her sisters, and it actually warmed his heart instead of making him want to run back to the boardinghouse in a panic.
* * *
Camy was strolling arm in arm with a faceless man in the budding fields when the oddest noise broke through her dream, pulling her awake. She listened a moment, gathering her bearings, and heard the deep rumble. Peeling one eye open, she found Duncan slumped against the table, his head resting in the crook of his elbow, the palm of his hand on her family’s open Bible.
She scooted to a sitting position with her back against the wooden headboard. She was pleased to feel the flush of her fever gone and couldn’t wait for the pain in her shoulder to relent. Her hands begged to care for the animals, gather eggs and plow the fields for the early spring planting. How long would it be before she could work the oxen? The potatoes needed to be in the ground before too long. She would have to plead with Hamish for help, if he was even capable. The small glimpses she’d caught of him the other day made it look as if he’d finally succumbed to his old age.
She sighed. What purpose did she have in staying on the land if she couldn’t care for it?
“You are awake?” Duncan lifted his head and
smiled. The dimple in his cheek winked at her. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” She tugged on the quilt. “The fever seems to be gone. Where is Ellie?”
“She went to milk the goats.” He sat up, arched his back and stretched his arms over his head. “I forgot how much work there is on a farm.”
“I prefer it to tea parties.” She would much rather trudge through the field after a good rainstorm than host a social gathering.
“Being here brings back memories I had long forgotten.”
“In Scotland?”
His lashes fell against his cheekbones as if to recall his home. A home in a land she had heard of and dreamed of, but had never seen. “Yes.”
She wanted to ask him about his home, to know if it was the same as her mother had shared on those cold nights sitting before the fire. Camy hadn’t been very old, but there were times when she could still hear the lilt in her mother’s voice, hear the tales as they rolled off her tongue. “You must miss it.”
“Some.” He closed the Bible and slid it to the center of the table. “It’s the reason Hamish’s offer appealed to me.”
She exhaled her frustration. Leave it to Hamish to stir up a grass fire and disappear without dousing the flames. “Until you heard I was part of the bargain?”
“It was unexpected, and yes, the thought of taking on a wife left a sour disposition in my gullet.”
She dropped her eyes to her hand, twisting a loose thread on the quilt. “And now?”
He cleared his throat, drawing her gaze. “It’s getting easier to swallow,” he said with a wink.
Camy blew air from her lungs and relaxed against the headboard. Although her thoughts were all twisted about how to feel toward the situation, it eased her mind to know he was beginning to consider their marriage as an option for her sisters’ sake.
“Although, Camy,” he said, his voice taking on a serious tone, “any marriage we have will be one in name only.”
Before she could question him further Ellie, Mara and Benjamin entered the cabin. Hound barked, his tail wagging, and Uncle Tommy hopped over to Mara with her excited raspy squawk.
Mara picked up Uncle Tommy and plopped onto the end of the bed. Camy grimaced at the jarring of her shoulder. Her younger sister crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Duncan. “Ellie tells me you’ve been perfectly attentive, which is quite fortunate for you, Mr. Murray. After an hour in the Northrops’ house, I was ready to spit nails. You can imagine my thirst for revenge up to the time good ol’ Benny Northrop decided it was safe to travel through the snow to bring me home.”
“Only upon my father’s request after discovering you and my sister Bella dangling from the second story window,” Benjamin countered.
Camy’s jaw dropped.
“You didn’t!” Ellie gasped.
“I never had a second-story window before.” Mara ran her hand over Uncle Tommy’s feathers.
“Ladies do not climb out windows.” Camy quickly chided herself for sounding like Mrs. Smith.
Mara cocked her head. Her eyebrows rose. “As I recall, your skirts became caught on a nail when you snuck out of Mrs. Smith’s parlor during her Christmas Social.”
“It was not a second-story window.” She would not recant the tale of how Miller had hounded her every move until she thought she’d go mad.
“How is our patient?” Benjamin untied the sling and pressed his fingers to her wrist to determine her condition.
“Ready to be done with this,” she responded.
Benjamin laughed. “You never were one for holding still.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Any fever?”
Ellie told him about her fever and how she and Duncan had cared for and brought the burning under control. “She woke this morning cheerful and seemingly well. And then the fever returned.”
Light from the fire cast Duncan’s shadow over her as he moved in closer. “An effect from exertion? There was a fire outside the cabin and she thought to douse it with a wet towel.”
“Is that so?” Benjamin’s jaw tensed as he pulled a stethoscope from his bag, placed the ends on his ears and leaned forward. “Exertion is a possibility.”
“Thank you for leaving Miller at home,” she whispered. “I don’t think I could handle any more discord.”
“Perhaps one day you’ll return the favor when I attempt to fall back into the good graces of your sister,” he whispered back. Benjamin then tugged the stethoscope from his ears and dumped it in his medical bag. “Has there been much pain?”
Duncan shifted into her line of sight and raised an eyebrow. Would he call her out if she didn’t speak the full truth? She didn’t intend to find out. As much as she disliked taking the bitter concoction her sister had spooned into her mouth, she despised telling even the littlest of lies. “Some, but not enough to warrant laudanum.”
“I agree,” Duncan added. “She has shown very little discomfort and mostly after taxing her strength with fighting the flames.”
“Sounds like you have a champion, Camy.” Mara Jean nudged her leg.
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. Arms crossed over his chest like a sentry, he looked fierce, as if he’d willingly fight all her battles if she asked him to. Although she was irritated that he kept bringing up the fire and yet thankful that Benjamin hadn’t probed into the incident further, her heart swelled with an emotion she didn’t understand.
Instead of examining the feeling further, she pushed it aside and covered it behind the fear of rejection she’d been carrying on her shoulders since she could remember. It was better that way, safer, especially if they decided to enter into a marriage agreement that would allow her to safely keep her home, and him the land that gave him memories. Of course, she had never considered before now how she could live in such close proximity to him. “He’s only speaking the truth.”
“Ah, Camy, you’re no fun,” Mara Jean said. “Can’t you once think about a man sweeping you across the dance floor until you’re breathless?”
Benjamin chuckled. Ellie gasped. Camy’s face burned. Her eyes darted toward Duncan and witnessed the darkening of his tanned cheeks before she stared at a red piece of fabric crammed into a hole in the chinking. What would her dear sister say if she told her she experienced breathlessness whenever Duncan walked into the room? What would she say if she told her how her toes had curled with happiness when he pecked her on the cheek? Camy would never know because she would never tell her.
“Mara Jean,” Ellie said in a low motherly tone. “Your fanciful daydreams of capturing a beau will never happen if you continue with your outspoken tongue. Take Hound and Uncle Tommy to the barn and busy your idle hands.”
Duncan stepped back when Mara Jean scooted off the bed with Uncle Tommy. The termagant she called sister stuck her tongue out at Camy as if she’d been the one to get her into trouble. “Come on, Hound. We know when we’re not wanted.”
Camy drew in a breath, and released it after her sister stomped out of the cabin. Her eyes found Duncan’s. “Are you still finding Hamish’s offer easier to swallow?”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and then burst into laughter. The sound echoed in the small cabin. “More so now than I ever was.”
Chapter Nine
Duncan’s coat hung on a nail by the door, the deed to the Simses’ property nestled within a pocket. All that remained were the required signatures, which Hamish and Duncan had agreed to do upon their return to Topeka, to pay the measly sum Hamish asked for and for Duncan to agree to marry the woman tying his innards into a tangle of knots. Duncan meant what he said; he was closer to accepting the offer without reservation. If he was to be honest with himself, his life would never be the same whether he stayed here and married her or if he refused Hamish’s offer and walked away. She’d be engraved in his mind like a cattleman
’s brand on his cattle.
“I didn’t want to press the cause of the fire with Mara here,” Benjamin said as he removed Camy’s bandage. “But now I insist.”
Duncan’s eyebrows rose. His suspicions that there was something between the doctor and Camy’s older sister renewed themselves, making him wonder why Hamish hadn’t offered Benjamin the deed in exchange for Ellie’s hand. Unless, of course, the old man was determined to keep Sims Creek from falling into the Northrops’ hands. “It wasn’t an accident, but I gather you already know that.”
What would the good doctor say if he knew Duncan suspected his brother was the culprit?
Northrop peeled back Camy’s bandage and inspected the wound. “This is the second or third time. I insist you ladies move to town.” He looked pointedly at Camy’s sister from the corner of his eye.
“I will remind you, Dr. Northrop, you’ve no right to insist we do anything. Not now, nor ever.” Ellie swiveled on her feet, grabbed hold of the stick leaning by the fireplace and poked at the glowing logs.
“He may not, but I do,” Duncan said with more calm than he felt.
Camy sat straight up and slapped the mattress with her palm. “How dare you?”
Northrop excused himself outside. Ellie followed behind the doctor. The door shut with a soft click. Their footfalls receded off the porch.
“I dare because it is a matter of your life.” Duncan drew in a breath, deliberately puffing out his chest.
“We haven’t come to terms.” She attempted to kick her legs out from the quilt but quickly gave up and rested her head against the headboard.
“It doesn’t matter, not the way I see it.” He crossed his arms in front of him.
Her doe-colored eyes became mere slits. Her cheeks stained crimson, her mouth pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t help the shift of his thoughts. Her anger did little to douse the hope stirring inside him. Instead it renewed with vigor. He wanted to kiss her. Not a fond brotherly peck. No, he wanted to ease the tension in her lips, to see her eyes give way like the dusk to a starry night.
The Negotiated Marriage Page 9