Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16)
Page 4
“Sebastian?” His mother rushed through the bedroom door, worry bleeding from her frantic gaze. “What happened? Is it Stella?”
“No, Mother, Stella is fine.” He moved away from the side of the bed, letting her see Lucie.
“Oh dear.”
A knock sounded in the other room, and he heard the low rumble of the doctor’s voice. Martha hurried into the other room to greet him. “Thank goodness. The young lady is in here.”
Martha led the doctor into the room then, with a wave of her arm, shooed Sebastian and John out of the room. “Let Dr. Brown take care of Lucie.” Once they were seated on the light green chaise, she stood in front of them, fists propped against her slender hips. “Did Jack Beauregard do this to her?” she demanded.
“Now wait a minute!” Sheriff Gurley growled at her, his face red. “Did you know something about this and not come to me?”
“I’ve only suspected something for less than two hours, so don’t yell at me! Besides, you were down at the docks. It was faster for me to get Sebastian. Poor Lucie might have been killed if I’d gone after you.” Martha said, her blue eyes flashing.
Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Can we get back to what happened? Please?” He looked from one to the other than poured himself a drink, offering one to John.
He shook his head. “I’m on duty.”
“You’re always on duty.”
The sheriff shrugged. “In that case, pour me a double. I have the feeling I’m not going to like what I’m about to hear.”
Sebastian leaned against the wall, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Mother had gone to visit Lucie—see how she was doing—and overheard Beauregard yelling at her—”
“It sounded like he threw her against the wall!” Martha interrupted.
“She asked me to look in on her, which I did,” Sebastian continued. “I overheard him yelling at her again. I went inside to put a stop to it. He had her by the arm.”
“Then how did she end up like she is now?”
“I’m getting to that.” Sebastian took a drink and continued. “I had just returned from an errand when I saw him shove her into the street. I carried her to the hotel, left her with Janssen, and went back to the store.
“Beauregard met me carrying a rifle. Luckily, his shot missed. My fist didn’t.” He emptied his glass and set it on the narrow table beside him.
She turned her sharp glare on John. “Well? What are you going to do about this?”
The sheriff raised his bushy eyebrows. “Figured I’d go start asking questions.” He stood and with a quick tug on the brim of his hat, left the room.
Martha dropped onto the small floral chair across from him with a loud sigh. “Have you thought about what I said earlier? Marrying Lucie or moving back in the hotel? It’s high time you found a mother for Stella. She acts more like a boy than a little girl.”
“But—”
“No buts. You need help, Sebastian. Raising a child by yourself is hard enough, but you have no clue as to what you’re doing!”
He opened his mouth, but she raised her hand to stop whatever he was about to say.
“You’ve done a remarkable job on your own—she’s a loving, affectionate little girl. Who runs around in pants and never leaves the house without her gun. I had to confiscate the pistol this morning so she didn’t take it to school.”
The doctor opened the door and motioned with a nod to Martha who stood and walked toward the room. Stopping behind his chair, she placed her chilled hand against his cheek and whispered, “Just consider it, please? It’s a logical solution for you and for Lucie. Stella needs a mother, and Lucie needs a home.”
He sat stunned watching his mother talk to the doctor. His mother was crazy if she thought he needed help with Stella! The last thing he wanted was someone else underfoot. Without saying anything, he left the room.
Outside the hotel, he waited for John to finish talking to a couple of women then walked up beside him. The sheriff’s jaw was clenched as he glanced at him with a hard glint in his eyes. “I knew better when I sent her there.”
Sebastian frowned. “Sent who where? What are you talking about?”
“I recommended that blasted job to her!” He yanked his hat off his head and hit it against his thigh in frustration. “Damn it, McCord—I sent Lucie. Those two busybodies verified everything you said.
Sabastian laid a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “He’ll pay for hurting Lucie.”
Chapter Five
Lucie picked at the bedcover, partly from boredom but mostly from frustration. Sheriff Gurley had stopped by briefly to let her know Mr. Beauregard was in jail and wouldn’t be released until the judge heard the charges against him. She didn’t want to stay in bed any longer. She needed to be out searching for another job instead of lying here day after useless day.
Her body was healing, and she was covered in dark blue and purple bruises. There was no part of her skin that wasn’t tender. She hadn’t even put her hair up because of how sore her scalp was from where Beauregard had pulled her hair.
She glanced through one of the dusty windows, glad it was a corner room on the second floor and that her bed was close enough to the window so she could see part of the street below. She liked watching the people pass by, trying to imagine what their lives were like—did they have families, were they nice, what were their heartaches? She smiled, ignoring the pulling of her split lip as she watched her brother jog across the street as he came home from school.
A couple of minutes later, his clomping footsteps announced his presence as he charged up the stairs then slammed the front door as he entered Martha’s home. “Lucie!” He burst into the bedroom with a huge grin on his face and shoved his small tablet at her. “Look what I did!”
She took the tablet and held it back from her face so she could read the neat rows of numbers. At the top of his work was a large red plus sign. She smiled. “That’s fantastic, Alex! You are doing so much better with your numbers. You must have a very good teacher.”
He nodded, his shaggy hair bobbing around his face. He blew a lock of hair off his forehead. “She is. Pretty too.” He snickered. “My friend Bobby has a crush on her.”
Listening to her brother laugh with excitement, talking and joking about things a boy his age should be, filled her chest with a bittersweet pain. He was finally getting to act like a twelve-year-old, which made her happy. Alex dropped the tablet into his lunch pail then curled up against her like they used to do before their parents died. How she missed those times.
“Charles was tellin’ me about a big flood Chattanooga had when he was little. He said half the town was underwater! Did you know they brought in huge piles of dirt and buried this whole area?” He glanced around the room, a look of wide-eyed wonder on his face. “This would’ve been the third floor, not the second.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really,” an amused voice said. Lucie met Martha’s blue gaze. The grandmotherly woman held out a plate filled with a large piece of rhubarb pie. Alex jumped off the bed and took it with a loud whoop.
“Thank you!” He scooted into the other room to eat it at the small table.
“Take your plate downstairs when you’re done, please—and do your homework!” Lucie called, but his response was garbled.
“He’s happy.” Martha laughed and took Alex’s place on the edge of the bed. Uncurling Lucie’s fingers from the cover, she held them between her palms.
Staring at the smooth-skinned hands cradling hers, Lucie realized just how much she missed having someone take care of her. It was nice, but she knew she shouldn’t get used to it. Martha wasn’t her mother. She probably just felt sorry for her because of what happened.
Lucie didn’t want her pity. She wanted to stand on her own two feet— to support herself, and to provide for her brother like he deserved. But still, she liked Martha…and at that moment, she needed a bit of tenderness. “So, the f
irst floor is buried from previous floods? That explains the sidewalk windows.”
“Most of this area has been completely filled in, almost up to the second floor, but there are still a few buildings across the street and, I believe, a few blocks over that are still using their first levels as storage. One merchant is living in what’s now his basement and what used to be their home as business space.”
“That’s just so strange.”
Martha shrugged. “It is what it is. Now, tell me what’s put that dark frown on your face? You look as if you carry the world on those thin shoulders of yours.”
Lucie sighed, and to her chagrin, tears filled her eyes. “I’m just tired of lying around in bed.” She hesitated, adding in a whisper, “And I’m scared.”
“Hmmm. I think I have just the thing for that. We need to have a little talk.” Martha patted her hand. “You don’t have to do everything yourself, you know. That’s what friends are for—to help carry your burdens. I would like for you and Alex to move in with me on a permanent basis. I have plenty of room. I’ve enjoyed having the both of you here. It’s lonely by myself. I’ve asked Sebastian so many times to move back here with his daughter, but he keeps refusing me. I even have a job in mind for you once you’ve healed, if you’re agreeable.”
Dumbfounded, she stared at the woman who had just offered them such a wonderful gift. “Why, Martha? Why would you do this for us? You barely know my brother or me.”
Martha patted her hand again. “My dear, I believe myself to be an excellent judge of character. I know exactly who you both are, and want to help. What kind of God-fearing Christian woman would I be otherwise? Besides, I’d love the company. Since Sebastian built his little home, I sit around here by my lonesome with no one to talk to.”
“I don’t think your son would like it if we moved in here. He was bothered by us staying in one of his hotel rooms.”
“You leave Sebastian to me. He is my only child, and though he may have his shortcomings, he would never turn you or your brother away.”
Lucie laughed. “Although he is very intimidating, I don’t think he has any shortcomings.”
The older woman’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, he’s all bluster. Doesn’t have a mean bone in his body that I’ve ever seen. He is the most kind-hearted man I know—other than his father, of course. Don’t get me wrong. He’s loyal to a fault…but stubborn. Oh my, how that man is bull-headed when he puts his mind to something.” She patted her hand again and leaned toward her as if telling her a great secret. “Trust me when I tell you, you can rely on Sebastian to do the right thing.”
“Grandma Martha! Grandma Martha! I brought you the sheriff!” A little girl’s voice shouted as the outer door slammed shut. In a whirlwind of sound and motion, a young girl burst into the room, throwing her small body into Martha’s open arms.
“Stella! Did you have a good day at school?” Martha asked.
The little girl nodded, her blonde hair messy, half of it pulled out of the ponytails on either side of her head. The knees of her overalls were ratty and torn and her shirt had come untucked on one side. “Jimmy and Maryanne got in a fight and Jimmy got in trouble for pushing her down.” She hung her head, a frown marring her adorable face. “I got in trouble too, and teacher said I was to tell you or I’d get into more trouble.”
Martha sighed. “What did you do today?”
“Nothin’ bad, I promise. I just put a frog in Suzie’s lunch pail. Who wouldn’t like that?” She blew a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. “I just don’t understand girls. They’re so strange.” She leaned back and peered around the doorframe, looking toward the table.
Martha’s lips pinched between her teeth. “Well, okay then. I brought you a piece of pie too, so go along and eat it. See if you can manage to keep it off your clothes this time.”
Lucie smiled at the little girl she remembered from the train. She did, indeed, look like Sebastian, with the same large brown eyes and full mouth.
“Who’s the boy eating my pie, Grandma Martha?” She turned a frown toward Lucie, seeming to notice her for the first time. “And her?”
Before she could answer her, Stella’s eyes widened. She bounced closer to the bed, and pressed her small fists against the mattress as she stared at Lucie’s face. “That’s really purple! Did you get into a fist fight?” Leaning closer, the child peered at her wounded face, eyes narrowed and her mouth puckered in a cute moue.
“Well, sort of, I guess.”
“Wow…did you hit him back?”
A throat cleared, startling everyone. “Excuse me, but I need to speak to Miss Croft.”
Martha stood and reached over, grabbing Stella’s hand. “Come on, little one. Let’s get you to the table so you can eat your pie.”
Stella turned a radiant smile, her front tooth missing, to her grandmother and skipped from the room, practically dragging Martha behind her.
Lucie laughed. “If we could bottle that little girl’s energy, we’d be rich.”
Sheriff Gurley pulled the chair from the far corner of the room closer to the bed and sat. “I’m sorry, Miss Croft—”
“Please, call me Lucie.”
One corner of his mouth rose. “Miss Lucie, I’m sorry to bother you before you’re all better, but I need to hear your side of the story.” He leaned forward, resting an elbow on one knee while she told him everything that had happened.
He stood up, the brim of his hat gripped in his large fingers and glanced over at the door as Sebastian walked in. “I’m truly sorry this happened to you, Miss Lucie. I feel responsible since I sent you over there.”
She gave him a sad smile. “You aren’t responsible, Sheriff. Mr. Beauregard is. He fooled people into thinking he was a nice man, but now they know better.”
“’Fraid the judge won’t keep him in jail for not bein’ nice, although I’m of a mind to.”
Sebastian moved to stand by the end of the bed and stared at her, making her a bit self-conscious. She knew she probably looked frightful. “Hello Sebastian. Did you need something?”
He shook his head. “Just stopped in to see how you are doing.”
“Better, actually. Dr. Brown stopped by this morning and said if I fell like it, I can get up tomorrow. No bones were broken, just a lot of ugly bruises, as you can see.”
“Don’t get up too soon.”
Sebastian’s worry was touching but strange. Up until the attack, she didn’t think he’d even noticed her. She rolled the quilt with her fingers then unrolled it, stopping halfway when she thought about something odd she’d seen at the store a couple of days before the assault. “Do either of you know how Mr. Beauregard came by his store? He had a lot of stock for someone who had just opened.”
“He’s been open maybe five months or so, if I remember right. Where he got the money for stock, I don’t rightly know,” the sheriff said.
“I will admit, I don’t know much about owning a mercantile, but I did notice the shipments he received were rather strange. He didn’t carry jewelry, clothing, or nice china, but that’s what I unpacked. Yet the next day, they were all gone. The names on the crates were different stores here in Chattanooga. I didn’t see Beauregard’s name anywhere on the boxes, or the shipping receipt.”
Sheriff Gurley’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he settled his hat on his head, crooked like it usually was. “Do you remember the names of those stores?”
She nodded and wrote them down for him.
He folded up the piece of paper and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. “I think I’ll hold onto Mr. Beauregard a while longer and look into that. It is a bit suspicious. Now, get some rest, and I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
“I’ll leave as well,” Sebastian said. “I will stop by tomorrow.”
She listened to the polite conversation as Martha offered the two men pie, which both graciously refused. The sheriff made it plain, however, that he would return later for dinner.
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br /> “And now, young lady, here’s your piece,” Martha said as she came back into the room. “You need to put on a few more pounds. You’re still too thin.”
“I have gained a little weight, but I would never turn down one of Cook’s delicious pies.” She ate a few bites, savoring the rhubarb pie, the blend of spices only adding to the flavor. “So,” she said, toying with a piece of flaky crust that had fallen onto the plate. “Where is Sebastian’s wife?”
A crease formed between Martha’s slender brows. “Excuse me?”
Lucie swallowed the last bite, thankful it had been a small piece. “Well, he evidently has a daughter, so where’s Stella’s mother?”
Martha shrugged, then let out a sigh. “She’s dead. She ran away with another man about a year ago, and he killed her.”
It felt like a stone rested in her stomach. What a terrible thing to have happen. Every child needs a mother. To have her leave? She didn’t understand that—couldn’t. Those were the memories she treasured the most…the ones of her mother. It was the little things she missed; having her mother brush her hair, giving her a loving hug before bed, or simply sitting with her in the evening saying nothing at all.
She blinked several times, refusing to cry. “How terrible for her and Sebastian. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for him.” Her cheeks warmed.
Martha waved her hand with a sad smile. “He didn’t take it well. Neither has Stella.”
“Don’t you say anything bad about my papa!” Stella stood in the doorway with her small hands gripping her hips, and her eyes blazing. “He’s the best in the whole world! We don’t need anyone else around cuz we take care of each other just fine!” With a loud huff, she twirled around and ran out of the apartment, her boots clomping down the stairs.
“I didn’t mean for her to hear. I’m sorry.”
“I know you didn’t.” Martha squeezed her hands then rose and walked to the doorway. “She won’t go far—probably sweet-talking one of the waitresses for a cookie already. Don’t worry about Stella, she’ll be just fine. I doubt if she even remembers what we were talking about.”