“The door is closed.” Tom looked to Merril.
Merril nodded and stepped back. “They removed the bodies from the library, but the room hasn’t been cleaned. He pointed across the yard. “Why don’t you both wait by the corral? I need to go in and see about ... the remains, but you should stay out here.”
“Yeah, I’ll be over there.” Nichole made a face at the flies and moved carefully off the porch. Every bone in her body ached, and the skin on her ass and legs felt raw. The material of her drawers stung as she moved across the yard. She stopped near the trough and turned to watch the men.
Ignoring Merril’s instruction to wait outside, Tom pulled his bandana over his nose and nodded for Merril to lead.
When they disappeared inside the house, Nichole rubbed her rump and groaned. She cast a glare at the torture device called a sidesaddle and swore she would begin to wear denim slacks and ride astride. She turned back to the house just as Tom stepped out the door.
He walked to the railing, pulled the neckerchief from his face and hung his head, taking in large gulps of air.
She looked back at the door.
Where’s Merril?
She straightened her back as Merril walked out the door.
He had a burlap bag over his shoulder. His long strides took him across the yard, past her, and into the corral. He tied the bag behind his saddle, then pulled the scarf down and rubbed his face against his shoulder. When he turned to find her gaze, his eyes were dark. He shook his head, then captured the reins of her horse, and walked out of the corral to where she waited.
“What did you find?” she asked when he stood beside her.
“Kevin’s and Renata’s coffins. Doc must have brought coffins with him from The Crossing. He tacked their names to the top, so I wouldn’t have to open them to find my brother.” He swallowed, then looked back toward the open door. “I'd like to bury them, if not tomorrow, then the day after.”
“What’s in the bag?” Nichole gestured toward his saddle.
“Clothes, mostly. There’s not much here I need.”
They watched Tom shake his head and start for the corral.
“Where’s everyone else? Henny and Katy?” Nichole asked
Merril shrugged. “Don't know. No one’s in there. We can't stay here, either. It’s going to be dark by the time we get to The Highlands.”
Nichole stared at the horns of the sidesaddle. “How far is it to home?”
Merril’s eyes filled with concern. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”
“I’m fine.” She couldn’t cry in front of Merril. “How long until we’re home?”
We can’t camp here. That would be horrible.
“A couple hours at the most.” Merril searched her eyes. “Can you make it?”
Nichole nodded and gripped the saddle horn of her Rent-a-Horse. “Help me up.” She cringed as she took her seat and hooked her legs in the horns.
I can ride for two more hours.
After the first hour, Nichole could glimpse the lights from The Highlands at the top of each small rise. They shone like a beacon in a sea of blackness and brought home to her just how isolated they were on the flat empty prairie.
When they finally reached the yard, both Merril and Tom dismounted, but Nichole didn't move.
Merril took hold of her horse's bridle and looked up at her in sympathy. “Are you stuck?”
“Actually, I am. My butt is asleep, and the insides of my legs are on fire. I'm afraid to move.” She joked, but when she looked down at Merril, his image swam in unshed tears.
“I knew it would be too much. We should have stopped.” He raised his arms to her. “Lean on me, I won't let you fall.”
Nichole dropped the reins and reached down for Merril's shoulders. He gripped her waist and lifted her from the saddle. He lowered her to her feet, but kept his arms around her, and she leaned into his chest.
“I never want to do that again,” she whispered. “The buckboard hurt less than that saddle.”
“Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?”
Tom collected the reins and drew all three horses toward the barn.
“Give me a minute.” She stomped her feet and grimaced. “Let the tingling stop first.”
They stood in the darkened yard for several minutes, then Nichole took a few halting steps.
Merril scooped her up in his arms. “Here, let me help.” He crossed the yard and porch and set her on her feet at the door.
Instead of opening the door, she turned in his arms and laid her arms around his neck, then drew his head down for a slow lingering kiss.
The long kiss ended with a several smaller kisses, and then Merril drew his head back and gazed into her eyes.
“Today totally sucked, my love.” Nichole smiled and pushed a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I would have to agree.” His grin ticked up. “But things seem to be getting better.” Merril bent to kiss her one more time. “We have an audience,” he murmured into her hair.
Nichole glanced toward the window, but only saw the curtains fall back into place. “Well, then, let's go inside.” Nichole turned around and opened the front door.
June, Jeanne, and Cookie all stood near the dining room table as Nichole limped through the door. June’s face was flushed and disagreeable, but both Jeanne and Cookie appeared overjoyed Nichole had returned home.
“You made it in time!” Cookie took both sides of Merril’s head with her palms. She pulled his head down and planted a big kiss on his forehead, knocking his hat to the floor.
Nichole hugged Jeanne and nodded hello to June. “Just barely.”
“Where’s Amy?” June asked.
Merril retrieved his hat from the floor and chuckled at Cookie. “Amy and Jason stayed in town to allow Jimmy Leigh to heal. Jones shot him just before Jim took him down.”
The women exclaimed in unison, and Merril gave them a brief explanation, leaving out most of what Nichole had endured.
When he finished, Cookie touched his arm. “Did Kelly find you?” The smile left her face.
“He did.” Merril nodded. “He stayed in town to help Jason and Amy. Tom came back with us.” No one spoke, and after a few moments, Merril continued. “We stopped by The Shilo on the way here. No one’s there. Do you know where Henny and her family are? Where Bill is?”
Cookie shook her head and looked at Merril with sorrowful eyes. “Henny and her family came here after they left The Shilo. Henny said they couldn't stay there, what with your brother and you being gone. She didn't know you’d gone to Denver to save Miss Nichole. Renata told everyone you’d run off for good.”
“Are they still here?” Nichole asked.
All three women answered, “Yes.” But Cookie continued to explain. “Lloyd told them to move into the family bunk, now that most of the wranglers have taken off for a short break.”
“That's fine.” Nichole stepped forward and grimaced.
“What about Bill?” Merril put his arm around Nichole and stopped her from attempting to walk.
“Lloyd sent Bill to Kiowa Crossing to get Doc. When Bill came back, Lloyd told him to bunk down here until you got back and sorted things out.”
“That's good.” Merril nodded, and then a smile lit his face.
“We do have some good news to share.” He hugged Nichole a bit closer. “Nichole and I were married yesterday in Denver.”
Jeanne’s eyes welled with tears as she hugged Nichole and whispered, “It's about time.”
Nichole laughed and choked up. “Thank you, Jeanne,” she said as the women released each other from their hug.
Jeanne furrowed her brow at Nichole. “For what?”
“For everything you've done for me since we left Boston. You were a rock when my mother became ill. I don't know if I ever told you how much your help and friendship has meant to me.”
The women hugged again, and Jeanne whispered, “You have your memory back.”
Nichole nodded, unable to s
peak.
“Hello, there. I don't think we've been introduced,” Merril said.
Nichole looked up and saw Lawna's anxious face peeking down the stairs. “Merril, this is Lawna Caine, both she and her husband work here. Lawna, this is my husband, Merril Shilo.”
Lawna bobbed her head, and her smile relaxed, although she cast an anxious glance toward June and Cookie.
Nichole tried to take another step forward, but it became more of a hop. The skin down the inside of her thighs felt burned and stiff.
“Allow me, Mrs. Shilo.” Merril swept her up in his arms. “I believe I shall carry you up the stairs once again.”
“What's wrong with her?” Cookie asked
“Saddle sore, Cookie. A full day in the saddle has rubbed her legs and rump raw. Do you have ointment for burns?”
“We have Amy’s salve. Let me fetch it.” Cookie and June both disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen.
Nichole tucked her head to Merril's shoulder as he mounted the stairs. She pulled her feet in as tight as possible, but he didn’t bump her head as he made the narrow climb.
Lawna pointed to Nichole's room when Merril reached the second floor. He rounded the handrail and set her down on her bed. “I am going to leave you to the care of Jeanne and Lawna, my love. I need to speak with Lloyd and Bill.”
Nichole held his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.”
Both Lawna and Jeanne giggled at her show of affection for Merril.
When she released him, she said, “Don't leave the ranch without me, and come back here when you are done with Lloyd, okay?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Merril’s sideways smile lifted, and he tipped his hat to Nichole lying on the bed.
“Ladies,” he said to Lawna and Jeanne as he left the room.
“I am so happy for you,” Jeanne said again, unable to keep the smile from her face.
“Thanks.” Nichole moved, and hissed through her teeth as her drawers pulled at her chapped legs.
“Let’s get your clothes off.” Jeanne shoved the door closed and helped Nichole stand. She unfastened the skirt as Nichole unbuttoned the jacket.
Nichole tried to step out of the skirt, but shook her head and lowered her leg. “I can’t.”
“There’s blood dried to your drawers on the inside of your legs.” Jeanne looked up at Nichole. “This will need to be soaked off and bandaged.”
“It’s really sore,” Nichole gritted though her teeth, and closed her eyes.
“Lawna, go tell Cookie we’ll need some warm water and bandages, as well as Amy’s ointment,” Jeanne instructed.
The door opened and closed as Lawna left the room.
“Where’s Hope-Anne?” Nichole asked as Jeanne pulled an old comforter from beneath the bed and spread it over the fine cover on Nichole's bed.
“Sleeping, I hope. The babe has been colicky. There’s some tension between June and Lawna. I think nerves may be drying Lawna's milk. Now, lie back on the bed and let me try to loosen the drawers.”
“Dang, this hurts.” Nichole scooted onto the comforter and tried not to pull at the dark stains on her drawers. Her legs burned and stung along the inside of both legs, from just above her knees to mid-thigh.
“Oh, Nicki, this is going to hurt,” Jeanne whispered. “Let me cut them off, then soak the dried cloth away from your skin.”
Nichole nodded, and Jeanne disappeared from the room. Nichole listened to her run up the stairs at the end of the hallway, and moments later, she returned with a large pair of sewing shears.
“Down the sides first?” Jeanne wondered aloud.
“I think so. Help me back up, that will make it easier.”
Jeanne helped Nichole to her feet, then cut away the drawers, avoiding the four inches or so on either side of her legs. Next, Jeanne took a clean pair of drawers and cut the legs off well above the knee and helped Nichole step into them and pull them up and over the bloody parts of her leg.
Nichole had just laid back down when footsteps sounded on the stairs, and then Lawna and Cookie came into the room.
Lawna had several linens draped over her arm and carried a pitcher with warmed water.
Cookie looked at the bloody patches of cloth stuck to Nichole's legs and exclaimed in dismay, “My lands, child, I know you didn't tell Mr. Merril you needed to stop.”
“No, I didn't. My legs were so numb I didn't realize they were this bad.”
Cookie and Jeanne each took a leg and soaked the crusted material from Nichole’s skin. Once they washed the area clean, Cookie covered the burns with Amy’s salve and bandaged the sores with soft linen. She wrapped strips of cloth around her legs to hold the bandages secure.
Nichole stood as Jeanne removed and folded the old blanket, and then unlaced and removed Nichole’s corset.
Nichole slid between the cool, clean sheets. Her legs felt better already, but her head swam with exhaustion.
“I’ll bring up a dinner tray,” Jeanne said at the door.
Nichole nodded and closed her eyes.
Chapter 16
Alyse James
The novelty of traveling by train proved a poor diversion for Alyse. Anxiety at leaving her grandmother behind kept her chest tight as the miles rolled past. Perhaps her uncles were wrong, and the demon wouldn’t go to the farm. She glared out the window.
Maybe there’s no demon at all.
She would meet her parents and sister in Boston, and then return home to the farm and her grandmother.
Bayard wiped his eyes. “We shouldn't have left her.” He ran a hand over his balding scalp and hung his head. “We should have made her come with us.”
Bernard gave a pat to Bay's knee. “It’s what she wanted, Bay. She’s planned for this day since the girls were born.”
“I know,” Bayard muttered. “We all have. I just can’t believe we’ll never see her—”
“Baked goods. Anything you’d like, dearies?” A woman with a straw basket stopped beside their seats. The basket held small loaves of bread and muffins, and what appeared to be berry tarts.
Bernard purchased two loaves of nut bread and set them beside Bay.
Alyse turned back to the window. The daylight outside the glass faded to twilight. They would sleep on the hard bench for two nights and arrive in Boston the day after tomorrow. Then they would return to the farm. Deep inside, she knew the truth her grandmother and uncles had lived with for twenty-five years.
It’s all true.
“How much do you think Maggie’s changed?” Bernard wondered aloud.
Alyse watched her uncles from their reflection in the window.
Bayard shook his head. “I don’t know. Her husband’s name—isn’t it—Prescott?”
“I think so.” Bern nodded. “Let’s hope they still live where the twins were born. We’ll start the search there.”
Alyse had never heard her father's name.
Her name.
She’d grown up a James. Alyse Prescott sounded foreign to her ears. She leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. Despite the hard bench, the slow motion of the railcar and the monotonous clickety-clack of the train lulled her to sleep.
They arrived at the Boston station early the second day and collected their luggage from the porter.
Alyse rolled her eyes as her uncles debated the best way to travel to their sister’s home.
A hansom cabbie referred them to a nearby livery to rent a wagon. He explained to Bernard that their luggage would make it impossible for them to hire a cab or ride the omnibus.
They located the livery, rented a single-horse buckboard wagon and stacked their trunks in back. The late morning traffic proved light and easy to negotiate. They traveled north from the train station toward the Charles River and turned onto Beacon Street.
Alyse gazed at the city with wonder.
This is where Amy grew up.
How different would her life have been if she’d grown up here instead of the farm?
Bernard
slowed the wagon to a walk. “We’re here. Up ahead on the left.” He halted the wagon several doors down from their sister's home.
“No. This doesn't look right.” Bay glanced around at the other houses and down the street.
“I’m positive. That’s Mag’s house,” Bern replied.
“What are we waiting for?” Alyse urged, trapped between her uncles on the seat.
Bernard set the wheel brake, wrapped the reins around the upright post next to the seat, and stepped down. He offered his hand to his niece.
Bay dropped from the wagon on the other side and attached a feedbag to the horse's head.
“You should stay behind us,” Bern warned Alyse as they crossed the street. “We don't know if your father’s home.”
“Why would it matter?” Alyse quickened her step to pass her uncles.
Bernard grabbed her arm. “We don't know what Mags told Prescott about you.” He directed Alyse behind the tall brothers. “For example, where you've been for the last twenty-five years.”
Bayard nodded. “Even if your mother’s the only one home, you’re going to be a shock to her.”
The brothers stepped up to the front door, shoulder to shoulder, and knocked.
Alyse put her back to her uncles and crossed her arms, but she couldn't stand still. She spun around and tried to spy around Bernard, but he put his hand on her bowler hat and pushed her back.
Bay knocked again.
From inside the house, they heard a woman call, “Coming ... coming.” Then the door opened.
“Hello, Maggie.” Bay pulled the bowler from his head.
“Don't faint, Mags.” Bernard reached out to steady his sister. “Are you alone?”
“Is Mum all right? Is she with you? Is Alyse...” Margaret’s voice trailed off as Alyse peered around Bayard’s side.
Margaret gasped and covered her mouth. Tears filled her eyes.
“Can we come in, Mags?” Bern asked. “Let's not do this out here. We're looking for Amylia.”
Margaret backed into the house, her gaze on Alyse's face. When the door closed behind Bern, Margaret opened her arms and embraced Alyse. “Oh, my beautiful daughter.” Margaret wept as she hugged Alyse.
Prophecy (Soul of the Witch Book 2) Page 11