Her pa frowned. “It’s not like her not to say where she’s going.”
Stan thought that was the case since she’d been good about letting him know that in the past. With a sigh, he said, “We had a fight.”
“Oh.” After a moment’s pause, her pa added, “Usually, when she’s upset, she talks to Rose. The storm was a bad one. She might have stayed in town until it passed. Chances are, she’s on her way back right now.”
“I thought of that but wanted to try here first. I’ll see if she’s on her way back from Rose’s.”
“She might have already gone by the fork in the path going to town. If that’s the case, you won’t see her. I can go on to your house to see if she’s there.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“You wouldn’t be inconveniencing me. She’s my daughter.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Stan turned to leave but her pa said, “Why don’t you leave Maggie here? There’s no sense in her going all the way to town and back.”
With a nod, Stan put the girl on her feet. “I’ll be by to pick her up when I get back from town.”
“It’ll be close to her bedtime. You might as well let her stay over. We have plenty of room.”
“Alright. Thank you. Again.”
Stan released an unsteady breath. There was no way her pa was going to be happy with him if Harriett told him she no longer wanted to live in the same house with him. It wouldn’t even matter why. The fact that he upset her to the point where she had to leave was bad enough.
“I can tell you’re worried,” her pa said. “Go on ahead. I’ll be on my way in a few minutes.”
Without hesitation, Stan hurried down the porch steps.
***
Harriett stopped walking and turned around, wondering if she was going in the wrong direction. Some of the land out here wasn’t owned yet. What if she was going further and further from the farms? She could see the sun setting in the west, but try as she might, she couldn’t figure out which direction the farms were in.
She didn’t think she’d ever need to know it since she stuck to the well-traveled paths. How she wished she’d thought to ask her pa or brothers. Or even Rose. Even Rose knew the direction the farms were in. And all Harriett knew was that the sun rose in the east and settled in the west.
From where she stood, there was nothing but tall grass in all directions. She had no idea which way the horse had pulled her, and with the storm, it was too easy to get disoriented. After a long moment, she decided to turn course. Maybe this was the correct way.
Her wet skirt clung to her legs. She lifted her skirt and kept walking. She’d never make any progress otherwise. A half hour later, the world seemed to tilt ever so slightly around her. And worse, she felt sick to her stomach. The absence of food that day was catching up to her. Stopping, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths.
But it didn’t work, and she ended up falling to her knees and throwing up. How it was possible to vomit when her stomach was empty surprised her. But when she was done, the relief she felt was worth it.
Feeling weak, she crawled away from the soiled area and found a clean place to settle in. She’d start walking again when she had enough energy to do so. At least the storm was over, and there was still some daylight left. The sun was starting to set, but if she hurried, she might make it to the nearest house before nightfall. Yes, that’s what she’d do. Once she had the strength to walk, she’d continue.
***
By the time Stan made it to Rose’s estate, the sky was filled with shades of purples, pinks, and yellows. On any other evening, he might have paused to take it in. But on this occasion, he was too exhausted. He’d made good time in coming to town, but Rose lived further south, which added to his journey.
The door opened, and a man Stan didn’t recognize greeted him.
It took Stan a moment to answer. He hadn’t been to Rose’s new home, but shouldn’t Kent have come to the door since he was her husband? “I was wondering if Harriett’s here? She looks like Rose. Rose is her sister.” He shifted from one foot to another. “Anyway, I’m her husband, Stan Craftsman. She hasn’t come home yet, and I thought maybe she was here.” He shut his mouth. He was beginning to ramble, and that wasn’t good.
“The only lady who paid a visit to Mrs. Ashton today was Miss Fields. Would you like to talk to Mrs. Ashton?”
It took him a moment to remember Ashton was Kent’s last name. “Yes, I would.”
The man nodded and gestured for him to enter the house. “Follow me to the formal parlor, and I’ll let her know you’re here.”
It was then that Stan realized this was one of the servants. He’d heard Kent had a house full of them. Feeling like an idiot for suspecting Rose had been doing something inappropriate with another man, he removed his hat and followed the servant to the parlor.
“May I pour you a glass of brandy while you wait?” the servant asked.
“Uh, no,” Stan replied. “Thank you.”
The man nodded and motioned to the couch. “Please have a seat.”
The man left without waiting for Stan to sit and closed the door behind him. There was no way Stan could sit. Even as tired as he was, the growing sense of fear propelled him to keep going.
He released his breath, and, since there was nothing to do but wait, he studied the room. It was large. He guessed it was big enough to fit his parlor and kitchen. The fireplace had a mantle with a painting of a horse on it. From there, Stan’s gaze went to the furnishings and piano. They were expensive. It’d take him a lifetime, if not more, to be able to afford all this.
It made sense to him why Rose chose Kent. What woman could resist all this? What he didn’t understand was why Harriett, having seen everything Rose was getting by marrying Kent, didn’t ask Rose to match her up with one of Kent’s male relatives. Surely, Kent had someone in his family or a friend who would’ve given Harriett a much more comfortable life than he ever could.
The door opened, and Stan turned as Rose and Kent came into the room.
“The footman said you were asking about Harriett?” Rose asked, not waiting for him to speak.
“Yes,” Stan said. “I was wondering if either of you saw her today? The…” What did she call the servant again? “The footman said she didn’t come to this house. Is that right?”
“Harriett hasn’t been here today,” Rose replied then glanced at Kent. “Did you see her when you were in town?”
“No.” Kent glanced at Stan. “What’s going on? Should we be concerned?”
Stan wasn’t sure what to tell them. Maybe the fact that Harriett hadn’t gone to her family should have made him feel better, but it didn’t.
“I think she got stuck in the storm that just came through here,” he finally said.
If Harriett wanted to tell her sister and brother-in-law what a horrible husband he was, then fine. Right now, he had to worry about finding her, and he could use their help.
“Did she say she was coming here?” Rose asked.
“No. She just said she was leaving for the day and would return by suppertime.” He lowered his gaze to the hat and shrugged. “She didn’t tell me where she was going. Your pa thought she might be heading back to my house, so he’s looking for her there. Meanwhile, I thought I’d come here.”
“It’s not like her not to tell someone where she’s going,” Rose said.
His face warm from guilt, he replied, “I know.”
A moment of silence passed, and he was afraid they might ask him what he did to upset her.
Fortunately, Rose only said, “I’ll change and look for her.”
“We’ll go together,” Kent added. “I’m not letting you alone out there at night.” She nodded, and Kent turned his gaze to Stan. “We’ll look for her, too.”
“Thank you,” Stan said then put his hat back on his head.
Stan had stayed here long enough. The longer it took to find Harriett, the greater the possibility
was of her being in danger. Maybe the buggy broke down. Maybe the horse ran off. Maybe an animal got her.
Forcing the possibilities aside, he left the house and got back on his horse. He glanced at the sky. It wouldn’t be long before it was dark, and unfortunately, there only a quarter moon tonight. That wouldn’t give him much light to go by. He thought to ask Rose and Kent if he could borrow a lantern but decided against it. He’d buy one in town. He’d already imposed on them enough by asking for their help.
With any luck, he’d go back to his house and find Harriett there. Then he’d beg her to forgive him, and he’d be content to go back to the way she wanted things. Whatever she wanted, he’d do it. All he wanted was for her to be safe. Kicking his horse in the sides, he led the steed to town.
***
The wind howled, and though Harriett hugged herself, she couldn’t stop shivering. The day had been warm, but as soon as the sun went down, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped significantly. Her wet clothes didn’t help matters any. The only thing that did help was walking, but it was getting harder and harder to do that when she fought bouts of nausea and exhaustion.
By the time the moon was high in the sky, she couldn’t go on anymore. She’d picked the wrong way. She was lost. She had no idea where she was or how to get back. Never in her life had she felt so scared.
She shouldn’t have strayed off the familiar path. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep. She shouldn’t have gotten stuck in the storm. She shouldn’t have overreacted. She should have listened to Stan. He tried to talk to her, but she refused to listen to him.
What if he’d been telling her the truth? What if he did love her? What if he’d gotten past his feelings for Rose? Things had been nice between them. He’d been attentive to her, spending time with her and talking to her the way she’d hoped he would for so many years.
“Why did I have to be so stubborn?” she whispered, her teeth chattering. “Why couldn’t I have just been happy with what he was offering me?” It was more than she ever thought he would, after all.
Her steps slowed until she came to a complete stop. The wind blew her hair into her eyes, so she brushed it back. It was so dark out here. The only sounds she heard were her anxious breathing and the howling wind. She needed to rest. Tomorrow morning when it was light, she’d walk again. She had no idea which direction she should walk, except she couldn’t keep going the same way she was now.
Swallowing, she sat down and placed her face in her hands. She’d done everything she could to ignore the many animals that lived out here, and going over and over the previous evening and this morning helped to take her mind off her fears that something was watching—and waiting—to attack her. But it didn’t help enough.
Still shivering, she brought her knees to her chest. Resting her forehead on her knees, she cursed herself for not wearing a thicker dress. The nights could get cold in late spring, and the storm had cooled the air considerably.
Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on things that warmed her. Rose had once told her about a story she’d read where someone got through a snowstorm by pretending to sit by a fire. In this case, Harriett decided to remember how nice and warm she’d been while Stan held her last night.
Tears filled her eyes, something that surprised her since she thought she had no more tears to cry. She wished she could go back to this morning and do it all over again.
A howling in the distance caught her attention, and her head snapped up. That wasn’t the wind. It sounded like an animal. She scanned the area around her but didn’t see anything. The only thing surrounding her was the tall grass. She crouched lower in the grass, hoping none of the animals scouting the area would find her.
After five minutes, the chill took over and she focused, once more, on trying to keep herself as warm as possible. This night, she knew, was going to be the longest one she’d ever been through.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Morning. Daylight had finally returned, but Stan worried it hadn’t come soon enough. This wasn’t good. There was no sign of Harriett. Her brothers, Rose, Kent, and her pa hadn’t found her. Stan hadn’t had any luck either. He did find the buggy, but the horse and Harriett were missing. It was possible she took the horse and rode away with it, but it was unlikely. She hated riding horses. The most likely scenario was that she lost control of the horse, and it ran off.
So that meant she was probably out there walking through the fields, and since the place was uninhabited, she could be anywhere. He thought they would have found her in short time since she was probably on foot and they were on horses, but she’d made considerable progress the previous day.
It was close to noon when he heard someone call his name.
“Stan! Stan!”
Stan pulled the reins on his horse and turned to Adam who was riding toward him.
“My pa found Harriet,” Adam said, out of breath.
“What happened?” Stan asked. “Is she alright?”
“She was sleeping when I saw her. It looks like she was out all night. Her clothes were wet, so she must have got caught in the storm.”
Noting the hesitation in Adam’s voice, Stan pressed, “What else is there?”
“I’m not sure. She just didn’t look right.”
Didn’t look right? What did that mean? Though Stan wanted to ask, he was too afraid to. He’d just have to see her for himself. “Where is she?”
“Pa’s taking her to your house. I’m going to get Uncle Joel. He’ll know what to do.”
Swallowing, he managed a, “Thanks,” and kicked his horse in the sides.
Getting caught in the storm then being stuck outside all night couldn’t be good for anyone, but the day was a warm one and that gave him hope she wasn’t too bad off. She hadn’t been attacked by an animal, nor did Adam say she was bleeding or had an infection. She was sleeping, but she didn’t look right. Just what did that mean? The more he had time to think on it, the more anxious he got, and he ended up running his poor horse hard in his hurry to get to her.
When he made it to the house, he quickly tied the horse to the post. Ignoring the horse, which neighed in protest, he bolted up the porch steps and into the house.
“Mr. Larson?” he called.
“Up here!” he heard her pa reply from her bedroom. “I need your help.”
This wasn’t good. He could feel it in his gut that something was wrong. By the time he made it to the bedroom, she was lying on the bed, unnaturally pale and asleep.
Her pa, who was struggling to remove her wet clothes, waved him over. “I’m glad you’re here. I need your help. She’s unconscious, and I’m having a terrible time getting these things off of her. They’re stuck to her.”
Quickly overcoming his shock, Stan moved forward and helped her pa take her clothes off. She mumbled something about a doll, a swing, and trees. None of it made any sense to him, but he pushed the meaning of her words aside and focused on the task at hand. By the time they had her in a dry nightshirt, they tucked into bed.
Her pa wiped the sweat off his brow. “I’m going to get her ma over here,” he told Stan. “She’ll know what to do.”
“Adam said he was getting Joel,” Stan said.
“Good. Between the two of them, they should have Harriett back to her normal self in no time.”
Noting the worried tone in the older man’s voice, Stan decided not to reply. Whether her pa was trying to convince himself that everything would be alright or if he was hoping to reassure Stan, Stan couldn’t tell. But really, it didn’t matter. Harriett was obviously sick, and they needed to do something to help her.
After her pa left, Stan sat on the bed, taking Harriett’s hand in his. Not only was her skin pale, but her hand was limp and cold. He caressed it. This was worse than he initially thought. He’d never seen anyone this ill, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
He’d have to wait and see what the doctor said. Joel was competent at his job. He knew how to handle these things.
And her mother would be over to tend to her. Surely, Harriett would find comfort in having her mother nearby.
Blinking back his tears, Stan leaned forward and brushed her cheeks and chin with his fingers. She was so cold. He hurried to his bedroom and brought back another blanket to put over her. He tucked the blanket around her and up to her chin.
Returning to her side, he sat down and took her hand back in his. It felt just as cold as before. But more than that was the fact that she didn’t seem to have any strength. He didn’t understand what was wrong with her. If she had a fever or was bleeding, he’d feel better equipped to deal with this. But she had no energy, wanted to sleep, and was unnaturally cold. Just what did it all mean?
He swept her hair away from her face again. The strands were tangled from the wind, but they were dry. As much as he wanted to kiss her forehead or cheek, he didn’t dare.
“I’m probably the last person you want at your bedside,” he whispered, “but I love you. I’m willing to do whatever you want. Just please stay with me.”
His voice choked up as more tears sprang to his eyes. Try as he might, he couldn’t manage to say anything else. He brought her hand to his chest and gave himself permission to cry.
***
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do,” Joel told Stan and Harriett’s mother a couple hours later. “She has hypothermia.”
Stan never heard the term before, so he wasn’t sure what to ask.
Fortunately, her ma spoke up. “Do you have any idea how serious it is?”
“It doesn’t look too bad.” Joel glanced back at Harriett. “She’s mumbling things that don’t make sense, and she keeps sleeping.”
“But?” Stan blurted out, thinking if Joel had said it didn’t look that bad, there had to be some hope.
“But her condition is mild. As long as you’re diligent about keeping her warm, things should improve,” Joel replied. “The warm towel around her head should keep warmth from leaving her body, and you have already taken her out of her wet clothes and put her in bed. You might want to warm something like potatoes, wrap them in a towel, and put them on her body around here.” He motioned to her chest and abdominal area. “However, the best way to warm her up,” he turned to Stan, “is if you take off your clothes and get in bed with her. Body to body contact works faster than blankets or hot potatoes.”
His Convenient Wife Page 20