Rachel stared at her hands. “So it doesn’t matter what I do, they’ve already made up their minds?”
Abby took both Rachel’s hands in her own. “You just keep being you, honey. They’ll come around.”
She stood to pull on her cloak. “I need to be getting along, Abby. Nathan will be home soon.”
The older woman walked her to the door and enveloped her in a hug. “No matter what, you’ll always be welcome here. You remember that.”
Dread turned in Rachel at her words. She nodded her thanks, afraid to open her mouth in case the scream she was holding in escaped.
There were people on the street when she stepped through Abby’s gate. Rachel nodded to a student’s mother as she passed but received only a scowl in return. Why wasn’t Andrew in school? She wanted to ask, but lost her nerve, afraid to hear the answer. Caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t see the couple walking toward her until she was almost upon them.
Penelope Parker walked on the arm of a smirking Hiram Miller as they strolled down the sidewalk. Hiram spoke as they neared, loud enough for everyone in town to hear, it seemed.
“Hello, Rachel.”
She stiffened at his use of her Christian name. He never addressed her as anything but Miss Hudson in public, believing it was too forward, too familiar a practice to be shared outside the home. Temper sparked alongside dread.
“Miss Parker. Mr. Miller.” The formal greetings stuck in her throat.
Penelope, who’d been one of her very first students, lifted her nose an inch and turned her face into Hiram’s shoulder, as if the sight of Rachel was distasteful. Hiram patted her arm and turned to Rachel with such a look of loathing that it took all her courage to stand her ground.
“You may be the first to congratulate us, Rachel. Miss Parker has agreed to be my wife.”
Rachel felt her world tilt. “Wife?” He was supposed to ask her to marry him, not Penelope Parker. She concentrated on breathing. It wouldn’t help to faint at his arrogant feet.
“That’s right. We’ll marry very soon, perhaps next month.” He turned a charming smile on the young woman at his side. “You’ll be a lovely April bride, my dear.”
Penelope smiled and preened at the compliment. “Thank you, Mr. Miller. April is fine. Whatever you think is best.”
He graced her with an indulgent smile. “Then it’s settled. Come along, Miss Parker.”
They walked on, forcing Rachel to step into the muddy street to avoid being knocked down. As they brushed past, Penelope kept her skirt from touching Rachel. The complete snub did what words never could, convincing Rachel her life in Lucinda was over. They had to leave. But where would they go?
Rachel stumbled down the street and out of town, barely aware when she reached her own porch. How was it possible that a whole town, people she’d counted as friends, could suddenly turn on her and believe the lies of total strangers?
She dragged her cloak off and left it on the floor where it dropped. Who were these strangers who could destroy her life with a few words? She knew no one outside of Lucinda, except for the women who’d helped raise her, and she’d had no contact with them since the night she ran away. She’d never met any of the men who’d visited her mother. She hadn’t been allowed near the shack when they were around. And none of them could have seen her, except the one who...
Rachel trembled as memories of that horrible night sprang to life in her mind. So much blood, and the screams. She would never forget the screams. Breathing hard, she shoved the images away into a corner of her mind where she could ignore them.
She went through the motions of preparing a meal. Just the smell of food made her nauseous, but Nathan would be hungry. He always was, these days. The knife slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. How was she going to feed him if the children didn’t return to school? She could still spin yarn, but who would she sell it to? How could she support herself and her brother?
As if thinking of him had conjured him up, she glanced through an open window and saw Nathan coming, dragging his feet, his head hanging. As he neared she saw the mud on his coat and the torn knee of his trousers. She hurried out to meet him.
“Nathan Joseph, what on earth happened to you?”
“Nothin’,” he mumbled into his coat collar, still trudging toward the cabin.
“Weren’t you going to see Matthew?”
No response.
“Have you been fighting?”
Nathan stopped and stared into the distance. Her heart nearly broke at the hurt and confusion she saw in them.
“Matthew said...” His voice broke and she heard him sniff away tears before he continued. “He said his sister is going to marry Hiram Miller. I thought he was gonna marry you.”
She couldn’t breathe. She already knew it, had seen them together, but it hurt so much to hear it spoken aloud.
Nathan swiped at his nose with his coat sleeve. “And Matthew said his pa told him he couldn’t have nothin’ to do with me no more.” His voice broke on a sob. “’Cause you ain’t really my sister.”
“Of course I’m your sister.” She folded him in her arms and held on tight. “I am.”
His shoulders heaved and she nearly cried with him. All her dreams and plans, gone. She barely heard his next words, but when she managed to decipher them she felt the blood leave her face and wondered that her knees still held her upright.
“He said you’re really my ma.”
“That’s not true!” She held Nathan at arms’ length, willing him to believe her.
“Why would Mr. Parker lie?”
“Because he doesn’t know any better. I swear before God, Nathan, you’re my brother. It’s only because we look so much alike that people are confused. If they’d known her, they’d realize we both look like Mama.”
Too late, she realized what she’d said. Nathan’s eyes were huge and round in his battered face. Before she could explain, he jerked away and ran for the cabin. Rachel gave chase, but she wasn’t fast enough. By the time she got inside, he had the photograph of their mother in his hands. The wooden box lay open on the table, the rest of its contents scattered close by.
“Who is she?”
She heard the accusation and hurt in his voice. How did you explain to an eight-year-old boy that the people he knew as his parents were only strangers who’d taken them in? She considered keeping the truth from him, but couldn’t. He had a right to know.
“Her name was Lillith Haynes. She was our mother.”
“No! She can’t be. My mama’s name was Eleanor Hudson.”
“In every way that matters, Mrs. Hudson was your mother. But this is the woman who gave birth to you. To both of us.”
Nathan dragged in a sobbing breath. “Where is she?”
Rachel wrapped her arms around him. She’d never wanted to have this discussion. Nothing good could come of it. But she no longer had a choice. “She died about seven years ago.”
Nathan was still for a moment, thinking. “When I was a baby.” He pushed away from Rachel and stared up at her, brown eyes full of pain. “Does that mean Papa isn’t my father, either?”
Rachel flinched from the accusation. “Papa and Mama found us wandering along the trail. They took us in and raised us as their own. We would have died without them.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened as anger flashed in his young eyes. “Who is my father?”
“Nathan, it doesn’t matter. Papa Hudson raised—”
“Is my real father dead, too?”
Rachel hesitated, wanting to spare him this truth. “I don’t know.”
“What was his name? Maybe we can find him.”
“I don’t know your father’s name. Or mine. Mama didn’t know, either.”
He threw the photograph across the room, breaking the frame against the wall. “Nathan, no,” Rachel gasped. “It’s the only picture of her we have.”
“I don’t care,” he shouted. “Mr. Parker didn’t lie. I am a bastard, just like h
e said.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nathan raced from the room, throwing the door against the wall with a crash.
“Nathan, wait.” Rachel gave chase, but he was too fast. By the time she rounded the cabin, he was almost out of sight, slipping and sliding his way across the muddy ground toward the hills.
“Nathan, please come back. It’s getting dark. Nathan!”
He didn’t slow when she called. She hesitated, then lifted her skirts and went after him. She’d wandered this path many times since they’d come here, hoping for some peace, but never at dusk and never at a dead run. She looked up to see how far ahead her brother was and tripped on a rock sticking out of the dirt. The hard ground tore at her skin, but she didn’t dare look down. There might be blood, and she couldn’t faint now. Nathan was nowhere in sight. Her heart pounded in fear. He’d never been out alone after dark. And there were so many ways a little boy could get hurt.
Cresting the hill, she stopped and studied the landscape but still couldn’t see him. “Nathan!” She called for him over and over. She studied the ground and saw what she hoped were footprints. She followed them a short way until they disappeared in the rocky ground. If they were Nathan’s, he was headed toward the abandoned mine.
Terror squeezed her heart. That pile of crumbling rock was so unstable, even the miners wouldn’t enter it. After the last time she found Nathan playing at the entrance she’d made him promise never to go inside. But she knew it was his favorite place. Surely he wouldn’t...
A rumble and a scream bounced off the surrounding hill and froze her in her tracks. “Nathan!”
She raced up the hillside to the entrance of the mine, only to be driven back by a cloud of dust. “Nathan, can you hear me?” She began tearing at the stones blocking the entrance, but couldn’t move them. “Nathan, answer me!”
“Sis! Help me. I’m stuck.”
“Nathan,” she called back, fighting to stay calm. She tried to peer into the mine, but couldn’t see anything but dust swirling in the darkness. She needed light if she was going to find him.
She couldn’t do this alone. She should go into town and get help, but then Nathan would be left alone in the dark. Besides, would anyone in town help her? How could she make them listen if they wouldn’t even talk to her when they passed on the street? Abby. She would make them come.
“Nathan?” Silence. “Nathan, I’m going for help.” Still nothing. Panic overwhelmed her, spurring her down the hill at a run, slipping and sliding in the mud and rocks. She raced down the path and turned toward town. In spite of what they thought of her, they would help rescue Nathan. They had to.
Only when her feet left the ground did the sound of an approaching horse and rider penetrate her panicked mind. Screaming and fighting to get free, it took several seconds before she recognized her name being called over and over while gentle hands held her in place.
“Take it easy, pretty girl. I won’t hurt you.”
“Jake! Oh, thank the Lord, it’s you.”
“It’s been me the whole time. What the hell are you doing, running around out here in the dark?”
“Nathan.” She couldn’t manage any more as she dragged air into her lungs.
Jake lifted and turned her until she was looking into his face. “What about him?”
“He’s trapped,” she panted. “Ran away. Into the hills.” She dragged in another frantic breath. “He’s in the old mine. Collapsed.”
Jake’s curse gave voice to everything she couldn’t express. “Where is the mine?”
Instead of speaking, Rachel grabbed at Griffin’s reins and tried to turn the horse.
“Stop it, Rachel.” He easily subdued her and took away the reins. “Racing Griffin across rocky ground until he breaks a leg isn’t going to help Nathan.”
“But my brother—”
Jake talked over her. “Can you ride?”
“No,” she sobbed.
“Can you walk?”
“Of course!”
“Then go for help. I’ll get a lantern and anything I can find that we might need from your cabin. Tell the men to bring their tools and meet me at the mine.”
Despite the urgency in his voice, his hands were gentle when he lifted her and set her on her feet. Without another word, he whirled Griffin toward her house. Rachel turned her back and ran for town.
•♥•
Jake wondered at the Almighty’s timing. He never gave up when tracking outlaws, yet he’d done just that today and ended up back in Lucinda when Rachel needed him. While he didn’t believe being beaten half to death was in God’s plan, he had to be grateful that he knew his way around Rachel’s house when he got there. The matches and candle were in their usual place. Except for a few things scattered on the table, everything looked normal. What could have made Nathan run into a hole in the ground that he had to know was dangerous? Then again, he was a boy. He didn’t really need a reason.
Jake grabbed the lantern Rachel kept on a hook just inside the door and checked the oil. Full. Good girl. The box of matches went into his coat pocket along with a couple of candle stubs. A search of the lean-to yielded a rusty pick, but nothing else that would help him dig through rock. It was something to start with. The others would bring better tools.
Taking a second lantern he found in the lean-to, he turned toward Griffin, then hesitated. Griffin might get him to the old mine faster, but the going would be tricky on the rocky ground. Deciding not to risk his horse breaking a leg, he hefted the pick and lanterns and set off for the mine at a trot.
He’d seen Rachel come out of the hills, so he knew the general direction. Though he hadn’t been to the mine, he knew what to expect: a small, dark hole in the rocks, probably reinforced by rotting timbers. When he found it, a cloud of dust still thickened the air around the entrance.
Jake swallowed hard. He hated small, dark places. He shoved the past away and concentrated on Nathan. The boy probably wasn’t very fond of dark places, either, but he was in there, alone, and Jake had to get him out.
He lit one lantern. The flame danced in the wind, then caught. Adjusting it to a low, steady light, he lifted the lamp and looked over the three-by-four foot opening. A few large rocks held up a wall of smaller ones. Except for a small hole at the top, the cave entrance was blocked. He could pull out one or two of the big stones to make a hole to climb through, but the whole thing might fall and bring down more rocks inside.
“Nathan,” he called into the opening. “Son, can you hear me?” He waited a few seconds and tried again. “Nathan?”
“Ranger McCain?”
Jake’s knees weakened with unexpected relief. “Hang on, son. I’m going to get you out of there.”
“I’m stuck.”
Jake paused. “Stuck how? Where?”
“There’s a big piece of wood lyin’ on my leg. I can’t move and it...it hurts.”
“All right. Tell me about where you are. Can you do that?”
“I only came in to the first corner. Sis doesn’t want me to be in here.”
“Neither do I,” Jake muttered. “How far is that?” He kept his voice even, hoping to reassure the boy.
“About ten feet. Maybe fifteen”
“Does the corner turn to the right or to the left?”
The question was met with silence for a moment. “To the left...I think.”
Jake cursed under his breath. Of all the times for a bright boy to have forgotten a lesson. “You think about that for a minute and tell me when you’re certain. Now, you got a handkerchief in your pocket?”
“Yeah. Sis made me put it there to go to school.”
“Good. I need you to tie it across your nose and mouth. I’m going to come in and get you, and it might get dusty. If anything moves, or more rocks come down on you, yell out real loud. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir. Ranger McCain?”
“Yeah?”
“I turned to the left. I’m sure of it.”
“Good boy. You
got your mouth covered?” There was a short pause.
“I do now.”
The words were a bit muffled. Jake nodded. “All right then. Here I come.”
He studied the rocks for another moment, but no obvious starting point stood out. He set the lantern aside and stripped off his coat. After tying a bandana over his face, he set to work widening the opening.
“Ranger McCain?”
“Just call me Jake.” He cursed when he removed two small rocks and six more slid into the mine. “What is it, Nathan?”
“I’m really cold.”
“I know. Try not to think about it.” He removed another rock, then another, slowly increasing the opening. “Talk to me, son. Tell me how you ended up in the mine in the first place.” When he didn’t answer, Jake felt a flutter of panic in his belly. “Nathan?”
“I was mad ’cause Mr. Parker said...”
“What did he say?”
“He said my sister is really my mother and that I don’t have a father, at least not a real one, and that makes me a—”
“You don’t have to say it, son.” Jake cursed the nasty old man who thought it necessary to hurt a boy for no better reason than he could. “What did your sister say?”
“She said she’s my sister. But...”
Jake removed another five rocks before a bucketful crashed to the ground at his feet. Where the hell was Rachel and the others? They’d know how to get through this mess better than he did. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“She told me Mama wasn’t really my mother. And Papa wasn’t my pa, either. You know that picture she keeps in the box on the mantel? Well, kept in the box. I broke it ’cause I was really mad that Mr. Parker was right.”
Jake concentrated on a large rock, wondering if he had to remove it to get inside. “What about the picture?”
“Sis said that lady was my mother—and her mother, too. But she didn’t know who my father was.”
A bastard, just like him. Another boy left behind. Damn. He made sure to keep his voice even when he replied. “Did the preacher help you while you were growing up?”
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