Debra Holland

by Stormy Montana Sky

  Her expression remained mulish.

  So much for Christian charity.

  “I’ll make it worth your while, Mrs. Murphy. Just for a few days.”

  “Three, Mr. Gordon. Three days. And I want triple my regular room and board.”

  “Then we have an agreement. You will be....” He was going to say kind, but didn’t think the woman had any caring blood running through her veins. “You’ll be...accommodating to David.”

  She gave a sharp nod that bounced her wattle. “I’ll be in the garden until you finish bathing the boy,” she said, each word sharp. “Then I’ll git the meal together. I’ve got venison stew cooking on the stove. Bread’s baked, although,” she grimaced, “it’s no longer a whole loaf. I’ve already made a lemon cake from California lemons.”

  Ant gave her a slight bow. “I think your lemon cake will be a treat for David. One he hasn’t had in several years. For that matter, it’s been quite a while since I’ve had lemon cake, so I’ll look forward to it.”

  Her face didn’t soften, and she left the room.

  Old besom. Ant took a moment to take several breaths and calm down. He and David had a reprieve. Hopefully, that would be enough.

  * * *

  Widow Murphy stomped into the kitchen. Ant followed her, hoping that Harriet had things well in control with David. Without a word, the woman stormed to the door, took a battered straw hat from a peg on the wall, and plopped it on her head. Then she continued out the door. Harriet, crouched down by the tub, looked up in inquiry at him.

  “She’s letting us stay here for three more days.”

  “How did you accomplish that?”

  “Judicious bribery.”

  She laughed.

  Seeing Harriet smile for the first time lightened a bit of the heaviness and guilt that Ant had carried with him all day.

  Harriet tilted her head toward the stove. “We’re going to need clean water. Check the temperature. If the water is too hot, add some cold.”

  Ant hurried to obey.

  They worked together, sometimes fumbling, to get David cleaned, rinsed, dried, and dressed in his new clothes. He didn’t help, just moved his limbs like a marionette whenever they told him to do something. Then Harriet combed out David’s hair. “Maybe we can give him a haircut tomorrow,” she said to Ant. “He’s been through enough today.”

  Ant smiled at David. “That you have.” He handed him another hunk of bread.

  The boy slowly nibbled at the chunk, still staring vacantly out the window.

  “Tomorrow’s good.” Ant tried to force some optimism into his tone. “Tomorrow will be a better day.”

  “Well, it certainly couldn’t be worse,” she retorted.

  Shame coiled around his gut. Before he could say anything, a knock sounded on the door.

  Ant opened it to see Dr. Cameron, dressed in a black Prince Albert coat, standing with a leather satchel in his hand. Ant had met the doctor during his quest to find David and had formed a good impression of the man. His blue eyes looked tired, but his cheerful smile with the crooked teeth, banished the signs of fatigue.

  “I’m told you’ve found your nephew and wanted me to examine him?” he said in a Scottish brogue.

  “Please come in.” As the doctor stepped inside, Ant continued, “I’d also like you to examine Miss Stanton who was attacked today.

  Harriet shot him a sharp look. “I’m fine!”

  Doctor Cameron set his bag on the table next to Harriet’s bonnet. He took his hat off, and then dropped it next to the bag. He ran his hand through his red hair. His curls sprang up. “How about I see to David first, Miss Stanton, and you can fill me in later on what happened and let me be the judge.”

  Harriet grudgingly acquiesced.

  All this time, David sat in the chair, like a stick figure, staring out the window. Only the tenseness of his posture betrayed any emotion.

  Dr. Cameron fished a hard candy out of his sagging pocket, walked over and crouched down in front of David, eye level to the boy. “David, laddie. I’m Doctor Cameron.” He held the sweet up to David’s face. “I’m here to see how you’re doing. Can you tell me if anything hurts?”

  David didn’t move. Nor did he look at the doctor.

  Dr. Cameron pressed the candy into David’s hand. “You can eat that later.”

  The boy’s fingers closed around it.

  Ant gestured to David. “He’s been like that the whole time. Hasn’t said a word.”

  The doctor ran his hands over David’s arms and down his torso.

  David winced.

  “He has a bruise there,” Harriet offered. “I saw it when I bathed him.”

  The doctor unbuttoned David’s shirt, and he visually examined the bruise. “I’m going to press on you there, David. It will hurt, but I need to know if you have broken ribs.” The doctor followed his words with his fingers.

  David shrank away, giving a little mew of pain.

  “Not broken,” Dr. Cameron said in a cheerful tone. “Now for your legs.” He ran his hands down David’s legs.” He peered into David’s eyes, and took a metal tongue depressor out of his bag and looked down his throat. Standing, he ran his hands over David’s scalp. He patted David on the head before turning to Ant.

  The doctor pointed to the parlor door. “Why don’t we talk in there? Miss Stanton, if you’d keep an eye on the boy?”

  Harriet sent David a warm smile. “Both eyes.”

  The men went into the other room, and Dr. Cameron lost his cheerful air. “That laddie’s been dreadfully abused.” The doctor’s accent thickened. “If that father of his wasn’t dead, I’d be tempted to take my buggy whip to him.”

  “I believe the first honors would have gone to me, Doctor.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Ant related the story. Even the retelling was enough to make his muscles tight.

  Dr. Cameron reached up and clasped Ant’s shoulder. “It’s hard for a parent when something happens to his child.”

  “I’m not his parent.”

  “You are now.”

  Ant digested that thought. It formed a lump in his stomach.

  “He’s obviously malnourished. He’s been mistreated, but physically, with some good food in him, he’ll fill out.”

  “What about talking?”

  The doctor hesitated. “David’s been through a lot, but I don’t find a bump on his head to indicate an injury. I believe it will take time. Perhaps when he feels safe, he’ll come around.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Dr. Cameron gave him a wry glance. “Like I said. Give him time.” The doctor dropped his hand from Ant’s shoulder.

  “I do na advise moving him though. The laddie’s been through enough.”

  “I wanted to take him back to New York.”

  “Nor do I advise travel and a big city life for the lad. At least not for a while. Let him get his bearings, then we’ll see.”

  Ant clenched his fist at the news, and then relaxed it.

  “As for Miss Stanton,” the doctor continued. “It doesn’t seem as if she’s injured. So I won’t push to examine her.”

  “She’s a stubborn woman. A little mule.”

  The doctor laughed. “That she is. However, our Miss Stanton needs every bit of that stubbornness to be a good schoolteacher.”

  “Then she must be an exceptional one,” Ant said wryly.

  “Oh, yes. The very best.” Dr. Cameron tilted his head toward the door. “Shall we join them?” He walked to the door.

  Once inside the kitchen, the doctor gave Harriet another opportunity to talk to him, which she rejected, careful not to look at Ant.

  Stubborn little mule.

  “How’s Mrs. Cameron doing?” Harriet asked the doctor, obviously trying to switch his attention elsewhere.

  The man’s tired face lit up. “She’s past the time of bending over the chamber pot in the morning. As far as I can tell, the babe’s healthy.”

  “That’s wo
nderful. I’ll have to go visit her.”

  “She’ll love the company.”

  The doctor glanced at Ant. “This is our miracle baby. We’ve been married nigh on ten years, and like Abraham and Sarah, had given up hope.”

  Ant felt a twinge of jealousy, which surprised him. He’d never before thought of having babies. Is life passing me by while I gather the ruined shards of my past?

  Harriet picked up the doctor’s hat and held it out to him. “Do you want a girl or boy?”

  “A healthy babe is all we pray for. And a safe delivery.” He took the hat from her. “However, I think we’ll have a boy. I have six brothers and Mrs. Cameron has five. Nary a sister in the bunch. No nieces. Only nephews.”

  Harriet shook her head. “Your mother must have had her hands full.”

  “That she did. I was the eldest, so I had my hands full too.”

  “I can’t imagine having brothers. I just have one sister.” Her expression turned wistful. “She married and moved with her husband to Kentucky.” She shrugged. “At least we exchange letters.”

  “We do, too.” Doctor Cameron placed his hat on his head. “My youngest brother has recently finished medical school in Edinburgh. He’ll be joining me in Sweetwater Springs.”

  Ant’s interest quickened. If the town could support two doctors it was far larger than he’d suspected. “Do you have a big enough practice for both of you to make a living?”

  Dr. Cameron shrugged. “Probably not. I know we could help more people, though. It will do Angus good to practice frontier medicine, although I’m sure he’ll be shoving all sorts of new-fangled medical notions my way.”

  Ant handed Dr. Cameron some money.

  The doctor tucked the money into his pocket and shot a knowing glance at Harriet. “You come on by if you need to see me...or to talk.”

  “I will.” She opened the door for him. When it closed, she leaned her back against it, and gave Ant a wary glance.

  “I wish you would have let him examine you.”

  Harriet huffed in exacerbation. “I’m quite well. And that’s my last word.” She walked over to David.

  Ant held up his hands in surrender.

  The door flew open, and in stomped the widow, her dirty hands full of carrots. She dumped them in a basket on the shelf near the washbasin, and then proceeded to wash and dry her hands, although she had to hunt around for a fresh towel, scolding under her breath.

  Briskly she directed them to help her set out the food. A general couldn’t have commanded his troops better. Soon, they were sitting down to the meal.

  Ant had been prepared to keep David from wolfing down his food, but instead, the boy ate like a mannequin, not seeming to taste anything. Although once, from the corner of his eye, Ant thought he’d seen a look of satisfaction cross David’s face, but the expression passed so quickly he couldn’t be sure.

  After a few attempts at conversation on Harriet’s part, they lapsed into awkward silence. The food was good. Ant had to give the widow credit for her cooking and housekeeping skills, the only favorable things about her. After a small slice of cake, Ant finally surrendered to the uncomfortable feeling building within him. He needed a few quiet minutes to think.

  Knowing he was acting rudely, he excused himself by saying he needed to check on Shadow and left David and the women to finish the widow’s lemon cake. He only took a few steps outside and stopped under the window of Widow Murphy’s parlor.

  Overhead, an almost-full moon gave off enough light to see vague details of the town. The breeze carried a faint whiff of horse manure and dust from the street. He turned to the back of the house, looking past the garden and the street behind. He spared a glance for the tall, dark shape of Banker Livingston’s house, downstairs windows alight, set back from the street and towering over the rest of the homes in the area. Then, he stared blankly off into the darkness, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that his life had changed today, and not the way he’d expected it to.

  For two years, Ant had focused exclusively on his quest to find David. He thought recovering his nephew and revenging Emily would release the knot of anger that had settled in his stomach after his sister’s murder. He’d rescue David and all would be well. Perhaps not well, he amended. Not with David orphaned in the worst possible way. But uncle and nephew would be reunited—a joyful scene that he’d imagined too many times to count.

  Now, instead of the happy ending he’d assumed he’d find when he’d accomplished his goal, and a speedy return to his old life, he had a whole new set of problems. And no answers.

  He heard the door open. Quiet footsteps and the silent swish of a skirt told him one of the women had followed him outside. He didn’t have to turn to know his schoolmarm had joined him, but he did anyway, surprised by the feeling of comfort her presence brought him.

  Harriet had draped a shawl she must have borrowed from Mrs. Murphy over her shoulders, and stood hugging the ends around her body, as if uncertain about her welcome. “Widow Murphy gave David another piece of cake. Guess she figures as long as you’re paying for it, she can be generous.”

  “That’s the first sharp thing I’ve ever heard you say about anyone.”

  “I’m still angry with her for how she treated some of my students a few weeks ago. She caused great pain to them and their family and friends. I know I’ll have to work on forgiving her, but I’m not quite there yet. But that’s a story for another time.” She stepped closer. “Actually, I’m also angry at you.”

  “Me?”

  “For not telling me the truth about Lewis.”

  “I didn’t think you’d go hightailin’ after him alone,” he chided, dropping his hands on her shoulders. “Good God, woman, what were you thinking? That man would have taken advantage of you, then murdered you like he did my sister. He would have tossed your body over the cliff without giving two thoughts to it.”

  In the moonlight, he could see the blood drain from her face and cursed his loose tongue.

  “He murdered your sister? David’s mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Hoping not to answer the question, he barreled on with the story. “Then Lewis took David and fled before he could be arrested. You can see why it was so important to get my nephew back before his father harmed him or he became steeped in vice from growing up with that blackguard.”

  “Oh, that poor boy.”

  “I think David witnessed the murder. Or at least saw his mother’s body. There were small bloody footprints next to Lewis’ big ones.”

  “What he’s been through,” she whispered. Then her voice sharpened. “But that doesn’t excuse you not telling me.”

  Ant took a long, drawn breath and ran his hand over his head. “You’re right. I’ve kept as close to the ground as possible for someone as big as me. It’s a salacious tale. I learned early on that if I told one person, it often spread through the town. Lewis would hear word of it and light out with David before I even knew he was there.”

  “But you could have trusted me,” she said, disappointment in her voice.

  “It wasn’t you, Harriet. I couldn’t take a chance on David’s life. I wouldn’t put it past Lewis to kill David, just to keep him out of my hands.”

  Her hand flew to cover her mouth. She stood there, obviously taking in what he’d said. “What an evil man. My feelings about his death were all mixed up before this, but now I’m relieved that neither David nor anyone else will ever be harmed by him.”

  The fierceness in her voice caused a wave of emotion to flood through him. He half turned away from her and glanced at the moon.

  “Ant, are you all right?”

  No, I’m not all right. Not that I would admit it. “Harriet, I don’t know what to do. David’s so…” He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “It never occurred to me that my own nephew wouldn’t recognize me. Instead see me as a stranger and a threat.”

  “Today was upsetting for you both.�
��

  Upsetting wasn’t the word. David’s rejection caused a pain deep in his gut. What his nephew must have been through to withdraw inside that frozen shell.

  Just thinking about what the boy had experienced send a surge of anger through him. If his brother-in-law were standing in front of him, he’d take pleasure from grabbing the man by the throat and slowly choking the life out of him.

  Harriet placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

  Ant tried to shake off his anger and form words to describe his concern for his nephew. He wanted her opinion, for he certainly didn’t know anything about children, especially damaged ones. “David hasn’t said one word yet. To me. To anyone. And the look in his eyes is positively eerie. He seems like he’s gone away within himself.”

  She squeezed his arm. “My uncle fought for the North in the Civil War and liked to tell us stories. He and his boyhood friend, Jimmy, signed up in the very beginning. As he put it, ‘two still-wet-behind-the-ears boys barely old enough to squeak past enlistment age.’”

  Ant nodded for her to go on.

  “They were so proud of their ill-fitting new uniforms. Bragged about what they’d do to Jonnie Reb. Until their first battle. Bull Run. They’d never been so scared in their lives.”

  “I’m sure that was just the first time.”

  She grimaced. “Yes. Uncle Ed said that battles became more familiar, but never less scary.”

  “Go on.”

  “After Bull Run, Uncle Ed saw a blank look on Jimmy’s face. His eyes looked empty. He became uncharacteristically quiet. Wasn’t the same. My Uncle described him as looking as if his soul had fled from his body. Uncle Ed thought it would wear off but it didn’t.”

  “What happened?”

  “When Jimmy did talk, he kept saying he wanted to go home. But Uncle Ed knew that would make him a deserter. He’d be in worse trouble. So my uncle persuaded him to stay. He died in the next battle. Uncle Ed always blamed himself for that.”

  Ant stroked his chin. “So you’re saying fear from the experiences David’s been through has caused that empty expression, and that it might not go away?”

  She nodded. “Or at least will take some time to heal. But you’ll give him the security he needs, Ant.”