by Craig, Emma
She stared at Elijah. What was he talking about?
He wouldn’t hurt you? Her mother’s voice mocked her in her head, dripping with malice and disgust. He already did hurt you, Joy. He took advantage of you, because you let your vigilance flag. It’s as I always told you, you stupid girl!
“No.” Joy shook her head again, trying to oust the spiteful words. “No.”
Elijah eyed her strangely. He left off rubbing his shoulder and held out his hand. “Here, Joy, what’s the matter? I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She couldn’t stop shaking her head. She stared at his hand as she might stare at a coiled rattler. She whispered, “No,” again and scooted farther away from him. In the endeavor, she put her hand down on the apricot kitten, which had been curled up next to her.
It gave out a howl of indignation, sprang up onto all four feet, arched its back like a witch’s familiar, bared its teeth, hissed, and swiped at Joy with sharp, dagger-like claws. Four red welts appeared on the back of her hand, and the pain rattled her. She leaped to her feet.
“Joy!”
Elijah looked alarmed now. The shaking in her head had engulfed the rest of Joy’s body, and she trembled from tip to toe. Tears she couldn’t stop washed her cheeks. She pressed the palm of her scratched hand to her face and cried, “No!” She backed up, staring at him wild-eyed.
“Joy!” His voice had an exasperated edge to it. “Come back here. I won’t hurt you. For God’s sake! I only kissed you!”
Listen to the villain now, Joy Hardesty. It was only a kiss to him! I told you so. No one would ever want you. You’re too weak, Joy. You’re too feeble a vessel. Your precious Mr. Thrash didn’t want you, and now even that sinful gambling man doesn’t want you. What did I tell you, Joy? What did I tell you?
“No!”
“Joy. Please come back here. Let’s talk about this.”
Talk! Are you going to fall for that one, you stupid girl? Talk? Bah! If you go back to that man’s arms, you’re no better than you ought to be, Joy Hardesty. You’re no better than I always feared you were.
Joy couldn’t take any more of this. Between her mother in her head and Elijah Perry on the bed, Joy’s emotional state was teetering on the verge of collapse. Even Apricot had turned against her. With a gasp borne of pure agony, she whirled around and ran to the door.
“Joy!”
She heard the distress in Elijah’s voice. She didn’t understand it, but she knew she had to get away from him. Slamming the door behind her—something she hadn’t dared do before in her entire life; at least not since her mother beat her for doing it the first time—Joy ran out of Alexander McMurdo’s house and raced to the huge double gates of his wagon yard. It took her three fumbling attempts before she managed to lift the heavy bolt and push it back. Then she flung wide the gate and ran down Second Street, stumbling and tripping and weeping, as if all the demons in hell were after her.
Elijah pushed himself out of bed. As quickly as he could, he shoved his feet into Mac’s slippers, and limped after Joy. There was no way he could catch her, but he had to try.
“Shit.” He saw her struggling with the gate, and winced when she yanked it open. It crashed against the wooden fence, which shook as if a wild bull had rammed it. Then she disappeared into the darkness of the night. “Damn it all! What the devil’s got into you, Joy? I kissed you. Was it that bad?”
Evidently it was. Elijah’s heart felt heavy as lead when he made his limping way to the gaping gates. By the time he got there, Joy was nowhere to be seen. “Damn it. How the hell can I even tell which way you went?”
Scared to death for the poor girl, and feeling inexplicably guilty for having frightened her, Elijah pondered what he should do for several seconds. Then, even though he knew he was being a damned fool—again—he slowly and painfully hobbled down Second Street. He headed away from the lights of the Pecos Saloon, because he had a feeling Joy would have tried to get as far away from humanity as she could. Not that there was much of humanity to be found in the Pecos Saloon.
With a sigh that fell halfway between terror for her safety and exasperation that she should have become panic-stricken at so trivial a thing as a kiss, Elijah scanned the darkness of the night. He wished he still had the eagle-eyed vision of his youth.
# # #
Several miles to the southwest of Rio Hondo, Alexander McMurdo frowned into the starry night sky. “Your kiss was no trivial thing to her, lad, and ye ought to know it.” Mac pondered Elijah’s heart as he puffed on his old briar pipe, then nodded. “Aye, I thought ye knew it, lad. And it were no trivial thing to you, either.”
He nodded again when he divined that Elijah did know it, and that the defense of denial, which he had developed almost to perfection during his life, was again being called into play.
Good. The magic was working. It would take a while yet, but Mac would see to it that one of these days. Elijah Perry would admit himself to be a lonely man in need of Joy.
Joy was going to need more work than Elijah, because she’d been more damaged by her upbringing. Mac pondered the best course for him to follow. Should he return to Rio Hondo or remain here for a while? The O’Fannins would be happy to have him stay with them forever, but Mac didn’t aim to do that. He was a mighty wizard, after all, and however much he loved Cody and Melissa and their growing family, his skills were needed elsewhere.
“Poor lass,” he murmured into the heavens as he contemplated Joy. Her heart had been twisted unmercifully by her mother. It was a pity, that, but not an irreversible one. Mac moved his little finger.
Several miles away, Joy Hardesty stumbled over a creosote bush and fell, panting, to the ground. Winded, she pushed herself into a sitting position, braced herself with her hands, and peered up into a sky as thick and black and velvety as anything she’d ever seen. It looked to Joy as if someone had tossed a bucketful of diamond chips onto it. Stars winked and twinkled down at her with a vigor approaching mania.
Then, to her astonishment, a cloud of what looked like a swarm of minuscule fireflies floated over her head. She stared at them, mesmerized. Then the sparkling mist descended upon her, and Joy realized they weren’t fireflies. They weren’t anything she’d ever seen before except, once or twice, in Mac’s store and up by the Spring River.
As she blinked into the legion of sparkles and they settled on and around her, she felt a strange sensation, a tingly but oddly peaceful one. It filled her, starting from every place the sparkles touched her. Her brain calmed. Her heart stopped racing. The echo of her mother’s voice faded into a distant, unlamented memory.
She heard another voice supplant her mother’s. This voice wasn’t shrill and hateful; rather, it was deep and rich and soothing. And it told her she wasn’t a sinful weakling at all. In fact, as Joy half-listened, half-intuited, this voice told her she was nothing of what her mother had tried to convince her she was.
Ye’re a good girl, Joy. A kind girl. Ye’re just fine, child, and ye’re gettin’ better every day. Everything’s going to be grand in your life. Just grand. It’s past time ye let a little happiness bloom inside ye, Joy. Don’t let the old witch fool you.
The old witch?
Joy stared into the darkness surrounding her, wondering if she’d truly lost her mind this time. Lunatics were said to hear voices, weren’t they? Yes. She was sure of it. She waited for the horror of this new revelation to hit her, and it didn’t. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to rid herself of the latest manifestation of her mental instability. Voices. Lord, Lord, she was hearing voices.
The new voice laughed gently, and her eyes flew open. She looked around, but saw nothing but the earth stretching out into the pitchy blackness of the night. A coyote yipped in the distance. Joy sighed. If she sat here long enough, maybe a cougar would find her and put her out of her misery.
Ah, child, don’t wish for the end at this point. Ye haven’t even lived yet.
Joy frowned slightly. Why did this new voice have a Scot
tish accent? Had Alexander McMurdo returned? Was he now teasing her? Was he out here, hiding in the darkness? The notion didn’t disturb her as much as she expected it should. She heaved an enormous sigh.
“Joy? Joy! Are you out here?”
“Good heavens! Is that you, Mr. Perry?”
“Dammit, where are you?”
He sounded extremely irked. Joy scrambled to her feet, dusted off her hands, and whacked at her skirt, an assuredly fruitless gesture. “What are you doing out here, Mr. Perry? You shouldn’t be out of doors! You should be in bed recuperating!”
“Don’t you lecture me, dammit! You ran off, and I was worried about you. What was I supposed to do?”
“As to that, I have no idea, but I’m sure you shouldn’t be up and around. Why, that leg wound isn’t half healed enough for you to be wandering around on the desert.”
“Blast it, you scared the devil out of me when you took off like that. I—” His voice cracked as if broken by emotion, and he stopped speaking.
How strange. Mr. Elijah Perry had been worried about her welfare? Joy thought and thought, and couldn’t recall another single instance in her life in which someone had actually worried about her. Her mother used to revile her constantly, but Joy didn’t think it was because she worried about her; it was more because she didn’t like her.
“Merciful heavens!” The thought, new and radical, hit her in the chest like a fist.
“What? Where are you, blast it?”
She could see him now, a barely discernible black patch against the twinkling night sky. “I’m right here, Mr. Perry. I’m sorry I caused you concern.”
“Concern? Dammit, you scared the hell out of me!”
She smiled. “Yes; you said that before. You needn’t swear at me, Mr. Perry.” She walked over to him and took his arm. “Here, let me help you back to your room.”
He was breathing hard, short, gasping breaths. Joy was touched that he’d headed after her, even if she thought he’d been foolish to risk his health.
“Here,” she said. “Lean on me and rest for a moment before we go back.”
Her heart had been feeling lighter and lighter ever since that cloud of sparkles had descended on her. She figured this was merely a manifestation of her incipient lunacy, but she couldn’t deny that she felt much more cheerful than she had when she’d run away from Elijah Perry a few minutes ago. In fact, she decided, insanity wasn’t half bad if this was what it did to one.
She smiled at the idea. Elijah still panted at her side.
“Thank you very much for worrying about me, Mr. Perry.”
After a second or two, during which Joy figured he was struggling to contain either his fury or his suffering, he said, “You’re welcome.”
“Are you in very much pain?”
“Some.” The word was clipped, and Joy was pretty sure he was lying.
“Oh, dear, you are in pain, aren’t you? I’m really terribly sorry, Mr. Perry. You shouldn’t have tried to find me, you know.”
“Like hell. I was the one who drove you off.”
“No, you weren’t.” Surprised by her own statement, Joy only had to think about it for a split-second before she realized it was the truth.
“I wasn’t?”
Mulling over this new and interesting concept in her head, Joy was slow to respond. After a moment she said, “No, I don’t believe so. I do believe it was fear and surprise at my own boldness that send me running.”
“Boldness?” He sounded crabby. “What boldness?”
She giggled. “Well, I suppose boldness is a relative term, Mr. Perry. For me, that was bold.”
His chuckle was deep, and it filtered through Joy much as had those strange sparkles several minutes earlier.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Miss Hardesty.”
She sighed. She was back to being Miss Hardesty. Well, she supposed that was as it should be. After all, she hadn’t given him leave to call her by her Christian name.
“I know you didn’t, Mr. Perry. Are you fit to walk back now? We’ll take it slowly and carefully.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I probably should practice walking more often.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Balderdash. Of course, I should. I can’t lie around in bed for the rest of my life.”
“A couple of weeks is hardly the rest of your life.”
“It feels like it.”
“According to the nursing teachers in Boston, a person who has sustained a serious injury—”
“To hell with the nursing teachers in Boston. I’m sick of lying in bed.”
For some reason, this argument struck Joy as funny. She laughed out loud.
“What?” Elijah, on the other hand, sounded extremely annoyed.
Her shoulders started shaking with her mirth. Elijah muttered, “Ow! Stop that. You’re making my bad arm jiggle.”
She made a huge effort and managed to suppress her laughter. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Perry.”
“I don’t see what’s so funny.”
“No, I can tell you don’t. You sound excessively peeved, as a matter of fact.”
“Well, dammit, I’m in pain!”
“I’m very sorry about that, but it’s your own fault, you know. After all, how could I get lost here? There’s nothing around but . . . nothing.”
“Dammit, there might be anything out here. Bad men. Indians. Cougars. Hell, for all I know, there are bears out here.”
“Bears?”
“Well, maybe not bears.”
Joy’s smile seemed a mile wide on her face. It was a face, after all, unused to smiling. “Thank you for worrying about my welfare, Mr. Perry.”
He heaved a big sigh. “You’re welcome.”
“I believe we should give you a small dose of laudanum when we get you settled back in bed.”
“Laudanum. Humph.”
In spite of his humph, he sounded a little more hopeful. Joy perceived that he was merely being cantankerous in scorning medicine. The nursing teachers had told her how men could be. Insufferable patients, most of them. Mr. Perry definitely could use a dose of laudanum, poor fellow.
“Tomorrow, if you’re not too indisposed from tonight’s exercise, perhaps we can stroll up to the Spring River. It’s really quite pretty there.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, it is. There are even some flowers blooming on the river banks.”
“Flowers?”
He sounded skeptical, which tickled Joy. “Yes, I know. The scenery around Rio Hondo isn’t exactly the stuff of great landscape paintings, is it?”
“What scenery? The only thing worth looking at around here is the sky.”
Joy tilted her head back and gazed into the heavens. Lord above, they were gorgeous. God had done a remarkable job with the sky in New Mexico Territory. “Yes. Yes, the sky is beautiful out here, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer for a minute. Joy wondered if his wounds were very painful. She expected they were. When he spoke, though, she heard gaiety in his tone. “‘Beautiful’ isn’t the first word that sprang to mind, actually.”
She laughed softly, trying not to jar his shoulder. “Perhaps there’s another word that more accurately describes them. Vast, certainly. Majestic? Yes, I do believe the sky in the New Mexico Territory could be deemed majestic.”
He said nothing, but Joy could feel him shake his head. His deep, rumbling laugh didn’t surprise her. “Miss Hardesty,” he said a moment later. “You are a very surprising female.”
She was? There was no reason Joy could come up with to explain the burst of happiness Elijah’s statement ignited in her, but it was there. And she decided to cherish it while it lasted.
They walked the rest of the way back to McMurdo’s Wagon Yard in silence.
Mac watched in his mind’s eye, and was pleased. He decided to visit an extra dose of his special wizardly healing on Elijah Perry as he slept tonight, because tomorrow he wanted Elijah and Joy to walk to the Spring R
iver together.
Mac had plans for them.
# # #
As soon as Elijah opened his eyes in the morning, he remembered what had happened the night before, and he braced himself. Joy was right: He had most certainly been in no condition to have hared out after her. He wouldn’t have if he hadn’t felt responsible for her having bolted. He fully expected the result of his foolish and unnaturally noble gesture to punish him this morning.
He frowned at the ceiling, waiting for the aches and pains to begin.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Perry? Are you feeling poorly?”
Joy’s question surprised him, because he hadn’t known she was in the room. He turned his head on the pillow and saw her straightening her nursing utensils around a jar of wildflowers on a table on the other side of the room. He squinted at her. She looked softer this morning. Prettier. Not as tense as usual.
He had, however, as yet no answer to her question. Very gingerly, he moved his wounded arm. He frowned. Even more gingerly, he moved his wounded leg. His frown eased. As carefully as if his body were made of spun glass, he turned onto his side—the one without the bullet-scraped ribs. Well, what do you know? He felt no more or less pain than if he’d stayed in bed all night long.
Joy stopped puttering and turned to peer at him. Her brow furrowed, and she began to look worried.
He grimaced at her anxious expression and said, “No.”
Her eyebrows arched. “No? No, what? No, you don’t feel poorly this morning?”
His grimace turned into a smile. “No. I don’t feel poorly at all. As a matter of fact, I’m not very sore at all, hardly.” He bunched his right hand into a fist. “Much.”
“Truly?”
His smile vanished. “What do you mean, truly? Do you think I’d lie to you after you ran out into the night and I had to chase you down? If I’d suffered agonies this morning, it would be your fault. Do you think I’d lie about that?”
Holding a roll of gauze, Joy walked over to the bed and stared down at him. Elijah stared back, marveling at the change in her. Damned if she didn’t look downright mischievous this morning. If anyone had asked him three weeks ago if he thought Joy Hardesty had a mischievous bone in her body, his answer would have been an unqualified no. Yet, here she was, big as life, and looking like a kid who’d just hooked a doughnut from the cookie jar.