by Jodi Thomas
Turning the horse down a main street, Allie wondered how she would ever find his kin. She could hear music and the sounds of voices, but very few people walked the street. She was afraid to ride close to the lamplight for fear someone would recapture her and put her back in a cage. They would see that she was a wild creature.
But if she didn’t get someone to assist them, the man would be dead before he saw his family.
Allie nudged the exhausted horse forward, hoping to find a way. Men stumbled out of the bars, but she didn’t ask for help. People rode by in wagons, without slowing enough to notice her. She’d gone from being the center of attention to being invisible. The few folks who crossed in front of them looked at Allie in disgust and quickened their pace. They didn’t take the time to see his blood, or her exhausted tears.
Allie was alone in this town full of people with a dying man no one would help. Maybe it would be better to lower him to the street and leave him among his kind. Maybe it was she no one wanted to look upon. Except for this one stranger in her arms, no man or woman had ever offered to help her. Even the stranger would call her a creature in time. For all she knew he’d been taking her to put in another cage. The preacher had told the Rangers he’d help her; an hour later she’d felt his staff across her back.
But the memory of this stranger’s low voice close to her ear when they’d run from the cage returned. He’d whispered that everything would be all right. He’d spoken the words to her, not at her. For once in her life, Allie wanted to believe it could be true.
Moving through the streets, she searched the faces, hoping to find someone who would meet her gaze and show enough kindness to assist a dying man. But the light rain kept heads bowed as people rushed by.
Stars spotted the partly cloudy sky as time passed and Allie fought to keep from falling asleep as she crossed back and forth through the town. Finally, they passed a big two-story building full of activity. People inside ate at tables covered with white cloths. Allie stared at the sight. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t eaten a meal in two days, she couldn’t take her eyes off how grand everyone looked. All dressed up like visions she sometimes saw in her dreams. Women in dresses of every color with their hair piled high atop their heads, and men in black jackets and shirts as white as new fallen snow.
Moving the horse closer, she held to her charge as she watched the people through the tall windows. They all smiled as if they didn’t have to worry about the weather or where they would eat tomorrow.
Allie could never remember smiling. Not in her entire life. Not in the long-ago time before her people all lay dead. Not when she was traded from tribe to tribe and tied with the dogs each night. Not when she’d finally run away and lived alone. She was not sure she could make her mouth do such a strange thing.
Just as she nudged the horse to move on, she saw him. A man inside by the window. He was all dressed up. His hair, though combed, was warm brown like the man with her, only there was no scar along his cheek. His eyes, his height, his jawline were the same. They had to be kin.
As she watched, the man inside stood and moved toward the door with a tall woman at his arm.
Allie knew this might be her only chance. She slid from the saddle and hoped her stranger could hold on a few minutes without her. Before she had time to change her mind, she darted across the street and climbed up the railing. She reached the steps just as the couple came out.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him toward the shadows where her horse waited.
He stumbled down a few steps, straightened and looked at her. ‘‘What’s this?’’ He appeared surprised, but not angry. ‘‘Who are you?’’
Allie didn’t answer. Pulling on his arm didn’t seem to budge him. Frustrated, she pointed into the rain. But he couldn’t see the horse or the dying man and she couldn’t find any words to tell him.
‘‘What is it?’’ The man’s voice was kind, not loud and demanding. He had the same low sound in his words as her stranger had. ‘‘Do you need a doctor?’’
Allie pulled again, now panicking that he might turn her over to the Rangers at any moment. After all, she was in a town, the very last place in the world she ever wanted to be. They might leave her stranger in the rain to die while they took her somewhere. She’d heard what folks said about her. She’d heard one say that she belonged in a cage.
Before she could turn and run, the woman stepped from behind the man. She was very tall with a dress and cape of deep blue.
‘‘Help her, Adam,’’ the woman said, her voice laced with understanding. ‘‘Can’t you see she needs you to follow her?’’
Then the woman did the strangest thing Allie had ever seen anyone do. She pulled her long cape from her shoulders and placed it over Allie’s. This lady, all clean and stately, tied her cape closed over Allie’s cold shoulders and stroked her hair back until the hood covered her wild, muddy hair.
‘‘We’ll come,’’ she whispered and smiled, as though giving away her clothing was of no concern. ‘‘My husband is a doctor. He’ll make everything better. But you’re soaked to the bone. You must cover up.’’
They followed Allie without asking any more questions. But when they were still several feet away, the doctor called Adam saw the dying man. Suddenly he was running, shouting orders as if a tornado were aground.
Then the tall woman did another strange thing. She took Allie’s blood-covered hand in her white-gloved hand and motioned with her head for Allie to follow her. Suddenly, they were rushing through the streets.
Allie glanced back. Adam was lowering the dying man to the ground. He had none of the trouble that Allie had had getting people to help. Men stepped forward to carry the wounded stranger and to hold the horse.Everyone seemed to want to help the doctor.
‘‘Hurry!’’ the lady shouted as they ran. ‘‘We have to get home and get everything ready.’’
Allie wanted to pull away. She’d done what she came to do. She’d delivered the stranger to his family. But the woman’s grip was tight around her fingers, pulling her along.
They ran past several houses then crossed through an opening between buildings to another, much quieter street.
The lady let out a long breath as she climbed the back steps to a huge house. ‘‘We’re home.’’ She held the door for Allie.
As Allie crossed into the house, the woman called,‘‘Rose! Adam’s bringing Wes and he’s hurt. We’ll need water and all the supplies ready fast.’’
The lady pulled Allie through the house before Allie had a moment to look around and swung her into a huge chair beside a fireplace.
‘‘Sit and warm yourself,’’ the woman said as she placed a blanket over Allie’s legs. ‘‘I have to get things ready, then we’ll talk.’’ She smiled again. ‘‘I’m Nichole, Adam’s wife, and of course that makes me Wes’s sister-in-law.’’
Her words made little sense to Allie. And what she did next made no sense at all.
The lovely woman leaned forward and kissed Allie on the cheek. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she whispered, tears in her eyes. ‘‘Thank you for bringing Wes to us.’’
Allie touched her cheek and leaned back into the cape as the woman moved away. She thought of all the names she’d been called in the past. Savage, wild, crazy, worthless. But none of them fit her now. This beautiful woman treated her like a treasure. Somehow in the act, Allie had gained value.
The large room came alive like a forest does when one stands perfectly still. The one called Nichole and others passed back and forth carrying water, supplies, and lamps. Allie closed around herself, making herself small inside the folds of the chair. As she’d done all her life, she shut the world out.
Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander to her dreams. In them, she was inside a room like she’d seen tonight. Her clothes were rich and flowing, with warm colors. In the dream, there was music also. Not the clangy music from the bars she’d passed riding through town, or the church music pounded from an orga
n, but soft music, lighter than air, floating around her. And tables of food, all kinds of food with their rich aromas blending together. And candlelight twinkling like diamonds over fine crystal and shiny table settings.
In her dream world Allie was no longer a ‘‘throwaway woman.’’ She was a treasure. As she’d been for a moment tonight in one person’s eyes.
FOUR
‘‘I SAY WE ALL GRAB HER AT ONCE AND THROW HER in the tub. She’s dirtier than any human I’ve ever come across and most animals.’’Allie slowly opened her eyes at the sound of a highpitched woman’s voice behind her. The room before her had emptied of most people, so she felt brave enough to look around. The huge space seemed packed with items of all sizes and colors. All the lamps except the one on a desk had been turned down. Fireplace flickers danced off tall windows black with night, making the room seem alive.
She guessed the room to be the doctor’s office, but this place bore little resemblance to the tiny room the Rangers had taken her to that they’d called a doctor’s office.
‘‘You’ll do no such thing, Rose,’’ another answered from behind Allie’s chair, reminding Allie she wasn’t alone. ‘‘She may very well have saved Wes’s life. If she wants to dress in mud, it doesn’t matter to me. We’ll offer her a bath after you see if she wants anything to eat.’’
Allie gripped the cape tighter about her and peered through the small opening. She wished the room were not all in shadows, for she wasn’t sure which were spaces between bookshelves and which were doors.
She couldn’t see the opening where they’d entered hours ago. The man called Adam sat several feet away at his desk. He looked far too interested in the book in his hands to even hear the women’s voices behind Allie.
The wounded stranger, who’d helped her from the cage, lay on a high bed under one set of windows. She could see white wrappings across his ribs and the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive.
‘‘Miss?’’ The high-pitched voice grew closer. ‘‘I’ve cooked you up something in case you’re hungry before your bath.’’
A woman, not much taller than Allie, appeared before the fireplace. She looked a few years older than the one called Nichole. Her cheeks had odd red full moons painted on them and her breasts seemed to form from the top of her shoulders to her waist.
‘‘Rose!’’ the woman called Nichole said softly from somewhere behind Allie. ‘‘Don’t bother our guest. Allow her to eat in peace.’’
Letting the slit in the cape widen slightly, Allie watched a tiny woman move across her line of vision. The painted lady carried a tray loaded down with a week’s supply of food. All kinds of food. Not just meat, or bread, or roots.
‘‘Here you go, sweetie.’’ The woman smiled with dark red lips as she set the tray on a footstool and stepped back. She folded her arms over her ample breasts and waited for Allie to make the next move.
For a moment, all Allie could see was the piece of meat, bread layered in butter, a baked apple still steamy from the oven. From somewhere far in her past came the memory of such foods. Then she saw it—the knife placed beside the plate.
In one lightning lunge, she raised from her coverings, grabbed the weapon, and folded back into the cave of covers.
The woman called Rose jumped back as though someone had punched her. ‘‘Did you see that?’’ she yelled toward the doctor.
‘‘See what?’’ Adam answered without lifting his stare from the book.
Rose pointed toward Allie with a shaking hand. ‘‘She stole the knife!’’
‘‘Then get her another one,’’ Adam answered without giving the matter a glance.
Rose huffed and stormed out of the room. ‘‘Well, I never in all my born days seen . . .’’ Words trailed after her.
Allie closed her eyes and let the knife turn over in her hand. The food looked good and the room felt wonderfully warm, but nothing compared to the feel of a weapon in her hand. She was no longer defenseless.
‘‘There!’’ Rose appeared in front of Allie once more. ‘‘I brought you another fork, too.’’ She clanked the gift down next to the plate.
When Allie grabbed the second knife Rose screamed again, this time drawing Adam’s full attention.
‘‘She did it again, Doc. She took the knife.’’ Rose waved her finger in a whipping motion. ‘‘Land’s sake to goodness, she’ll kill us all in our sleep.’’
‘‘I doubt anyone in the house is asleep, thanks to your screaming.’’ Adam stood and moved slowly toward Allie. ‘‘Get another knife, Rose,’’ he said calmly. ‘‘In fact, bring all we have.’’
‘‘What!’’ Rose shifted her startled gaze to the doctor.
‘‘You heard me. Bring all the knives from your kitchen.’’
Rose stormed off, her hands at full-blown mast above her head and words following her like smoke does from a train.
Adam knelt in front of Allie. Very slowly, he lifted the bread and offered it to her.
Allie didn’t move. She’d been offered food before only to find it a trap. If she didn’t take the bread, maybe he wouldn’t hurt her or demand something in return.
‘‘You’ve no call to be afraid,’’ Adam said calmly. ‘‘We owe you a great debt for bringing Wes to us.’’ He put the bread on the tray and picked up the glass of milk.She didn’t reach for it.
‘‘I’m sorry if Rose frightened you. She’s a great cook. Won’t you try her meal?’’
Allie knew his words, but somehow all the meaning didn’t come through. She’d been tricked too often to trust now.
Rose returned with her starched apron loaded down with weapons.
Adam reached in her stash and offered Allie a small knife. ‘‘If you want these, you are welcome to them,’’ he said. ‘‘We’ve nothing to fear from such a brave one as you. I don’t know how my brother found his way into your care, but I’m glad you brought him to us. We are all in your debt.’’
Allie could never remember being called brave. She’d always thought of herself as a coward. All her life it seemed she’d been running. First from the raid that killed her family, then from tribes that warred against one another, then from the men who captured her and called it a saving.
‘‘I’ll just put a few of them here.’’ Adam stood, taking the knives, apron and all, from Rose. He placed two on the bookshelf beside the door he opened. ‘‘The rest will be in the room across the hallway. Nichole prepared you a bath, and Rose will take your food in there so you can have some privacy.’’
Rose looked at the doctor as if he’d lost his mind and this wasn’t the first time she’d noticed. She let out a loud sigh and shook her head toward heaven. ‘‘Lord, Lord, protect us all tonight so we don’t get knifed in our sleep.’’ She lifted the tray and followed the doctor without ceasing in her prayer. ‘‘Lord, please send Sister Cel and the others safely back home, and Lord, please don’t let them be the ones that finds us all dead in our own blood from the knife wounds, and Lord, I’m truly sorry for my life of sin. It was an evil life, and I don’t have time to list everything one by one, but I don’t deserve to be stabbed like a hog neither and Lord—’’
‘‘That will be enough, Rose,’’ the doctor interrupted. ‘‘You’ll frighten our guest.’’
She opened one eye to glare at him as she continued silently mouthing her prayer while following Adam out of the room.
Allie waited.
Silence.
She could still smell the baked apple. Slowly, she shifted the weapons in her hands. Could it be possible no one was going to fight her for them?
Letting the blanket slip away, she looked around the room.
No one. Only the stranger, who Adam had called Wes. He lay on the bed asleep.
With a tight grip on the largest knife, Allie stood. She turned a full circle twice.
No one.
Without a sound, she moved toward the door where Adam and Rose had disappeared. They could be just beyond the opening, waiting to jump at her. Wa
iting to take her weapon away. Waiting to hurt her.
But as she inched past the door, she saw no one. Only the light from across the hall. The knives Adam had carried from the room were spread out on the bed like an offering. The tray of food sat on a table.
Hunger drove Allie closer. Every inch of her was alive, ready to bolt at any sound or hint of danger. She moved into the hallway.
Nothing.
She entered the small room and, once again, turned a circle with her knife drawn. The room was too small to hide a person. There was only space enough for a bed, a small table, a chair, and a huge tub of water.
As she finished the rotation, Allie caught sight of Nichole in the doorway. Allie’s knuckles turned white with her tight grip on the weapon, but she didn’t advance. She waited. She had no desire to harm the lady, but Allie had made up her mind she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again.
Nichole stepped to the bed and laid down a pile of clothing. ‘‘I thought you could use these for tonight,’’ she said as she backed from the room. ‘‘I’ll leave you to your privacy, but if you need anything, you’ve only to ask.’’
She closed the door.
Allie bolted, dropping one of the knives in her hurry to grab the door.
But the knob turned easily in her hand. It wasn’t locked. She jerked it open to make sure.
Nichole stood a few feet away. She smiled as if she’d read Allie’s mind. ‘‘The key’s on the inside of the door. You can lock it if you wish. But no one will bother you. You’re safe here.’’
Allie closed the door quickly and looked down. The key. She knew about locks. She’d been locked in many rooms over the past weeks. Again and again, she’d seen the preacher take the key, then the lock would turn and she’d be imprisoned once more.
Hesitantly, she placed the knife on the table and let her fingers close around the key. When she pulled, it came away in her hand.