White River Brides

by Frances Devine

  Rafe took a deep breath and leaned on the pitchfork. “I’ve been thinking about going to Arkansas and getting a job with the railroad. They’ll be starting to lay the tracks soon between Conway and here for the White River Line.”

  “Hmmm. What about the farm?”

  “The crops are almost all in. And it won’t take long to get everything ready for winter. Pa can get Jim Shelling to help out if needed. Betty and Robert’ll help, too. They only have a small crop this year.” He clamped his teeth together and kicked a small pile of hay off the loft. “I can’t stay around here and watch Tuck marry that man.”

  Jack stood silent for a moment. Rafe was thankful when he changed the subject. “Speaking of the railroad, I hear there’s a fellow named Fullbright trying to buy up land. They say he represents the Missouri Pacific. You heard anything about it?”

  Rafe looked up in surprise. “News to me. Why would they need more land? They have more than enough for the new line already.”

  Jack shugged. “May just be a rumor. You know how folks are.”

  “Yes, I do.” Rafe frowned. “I’d hate to see anyone sell out.”

  “I doubt there’s anything to it. The fellow may simply want the land for himself.”

  “Maybe.” Who cared anyway? All he cared about was Tuck. Would she marry that guy? Or worse still, would Sam Fields play her false and break her heart? The thought was enough to drive Rafe crazy. He tossed the forkful of hay into the corner and leaned the pitchfork against the wall. “Guess I’d best be getting home.”

  “When do you figure you’ll leave for Arkansas?”

  “Not for a while. I reckon I’ll see you at church on Sunday.” He couldn’t leave. Not until he knew Tuck was safe and happy. Or at least safe. He wasn’t sure he could control the happiness.

  “Amen.” The preacher’s voice boomed throughout the church and reverberated from log wall to log wall.

  Tuck fidgeted as she waited for her family to exit the pew so she could follow. She’d thought Reverend Talbot would never stop preaching. Sam was supposed to have gone home with her for Sunday dinner. But he hadn’t shown up for church. She finally reached the front door and hurriedly shook hands with Brother and Sister Talbot then stepped into the yard and glanced around.

  Ma Lexie walked up to her and placed her hand on her shoulder. She smiled and gave Tuck a questioning smile. “Dr. Fields isn’t here, is he?”

  “No,” Tuck said then hastily added, “but I’m sure he has a good reason. Perhaps an emergency came up.”

  Unease nagged at her. Sam seemed to have a lot of emergencies. This wasn’t the first time he’d missed the service after promising to meet her there.

  Worry lines appeared between Ma Lexie’s eyes. “He seems to miss services a lot, don’t you think, dear?”

  Although the same thought had just crossed Tuck’s mind, resentment welled up inside her. “After all, Ma, he can’t help it if someone gets sick.”

  “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to imply anything bad about him.” Nevertheless, the worry lines deepened.

  Relief washed over Tuck as Sam drove up in his carriage. He would surely have a perfectly good excuse for being late. “There he is now.”

  Addy gasped and headed toward the wagon.

  Now what had got stuck in her craw? She probably had her nose out of joint because Sam wasn’t interested in her. A pang of remorse shot through her. Addy wasn’t like that. She smiled as Sam ambled up to her.

  His eyes flashed as he gazed at her. “I’m so sorry, Abigail. I received word that a family downriver was taken ill. There were several children, and I didn’t want to take the chance of waiting.”

  “Oh my,” Ma Lexie said. “Of course not. Was it anything serious?”

  “Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Sullivan. Actually, it was a simple case of the sniffles. And only two of them were actually ill.” He smiled at Ma then shifted his gaze back to Tuck. “May I drive you home?”

  “Yes, of course.” Butterflies tickled her stomach and she smiled back at him. “And don’t forget you’re having Sunday dinner with us.”

  “That’s right. And we’d best get going.” Papa Jack nodded at Sam. “Lexie has fried chicken warming in the oven, and I can’t get there fast enough.” Tuck sat straight in the buggy seat, proud to be riding beside Sam. He was by far the most handsome man she knew and the most distinguished. She was quite sure even Reverend Talbot was not as cultured as Sam.

  By the time Sam pulled up in front of the house, Tuck was glowing from her own thoughts. She almost floated into the house.

  Soon they were all seated around the table enjoying Ma Lexie’s wonderful fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and sweet peas. Tuck couldn’t help but notice that although Pa and Ma were polite enough they both seemed a little reserved with Sam. But perhaps it was because they didn’t know him well.

  Addy, on the other hand, while not openly rude was obviously distressed and spoke only when someone addressed her specifically. Occasionally, she’d dart a glance in Tuck’s direction, but when Tuck threw her a questioning look, she quickly averted her eyes and focused on her meal. Now what in thunder was wrong with her? Tuck didn’t know, but she intended to find out before the day was over. She hoped her sister wasn’t still holding onto a secret attraction for Sam. Because it wasn’t going to get her anywhere. He belonged to Tuck, and she intended to marry him one day.

  She swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. Was she sure she wanted to marry Sam? She glanced in his direction and met his eyes. He smiled slowly, and his eyes warmed her as they seemed to send her a secret message. Heat washed over her entire body. Yes, of course she wanted to marry him. He was everything she admired in a man.

  Chapter 8

  Wind whipped through the entrance of Marble Cave, swooping down the opening, picking up leaves that had been tracked in, and scattering them around the Cathedral Room.

  Tuck shivered, wishing she had worn something warmer. A storm had blown in within the last half hour. Overcast skies threatened a downpour, and temperatures were dropping steadily. She shivered again. It was too cold for this early in October. Well, at least now she could stop fidgeting over giving up the entertainment when the Lynch sisters returned next week. Now that a cold spell had hit, Tuck wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be the last tour before spring.

  “Think we’d better go on home?” Squeezebox turned miserable eyes on Willie. “This feels like a norther coming in. I can’t imagine anyone tourin’ a cave when it’s this cold. My fingers are turning blue. I’m goin’ to git cold blains fer sure.”

  “You mean chilblains don’t you?” Tom snickered.

  “Naw, I mean cold blains,” Squeezebox snapped, frowning at his friend. “I reckon I know what I mean.”

  “Aw, it don’t matter,” Mr. Willie motioned toward the opening into the next room. “We can’t go anywhere until Mr. Lynch brings them folks back out and says we can go.”

  Tuck blew her warm breath onto her cold hands. The tourists were due to be back in fifteen minutes or so. Were they ever in for a shock.

  A wailing sound drew her attention. The four of them stared toward the opening, and soon Tuck could see the light from one of the lanterns. Mr. Lynch stepped through the opening, his face like stone, followed by a weeping woman and most of the other tourists who’d followed Lynch and Jim Castle down earlier.

  Tuck’s stomach lurched. What could have happened? Had someone fallen?

  The distraught woman, tears streaming down her cheeks, grabbed Mr. Lynch’s arm. “How long will it take them to find him? Is there any danger?”

  “Mrs. Harris, please calm yourself. I assure you, we will find your son.” But although his voice was positive, the uncertainty in his eyes was unmistakable.

  “But we called and called. Why didn’t he answer?” Her high-pitched voice warned of shock.

  Tuck stared, dread filling her mind. A lost child? Oh no. Please, God.

  Mr. Lynch sent an implor
ing look in Tuck’s direction. She stepped from the platform and walked over.

  “Miss Sullivan, this is Mrs. Harris. Her young son Tommy wandered away from the group. Mr. Harris stayed behind to help Jim search for him.” His eyes spoke the danger that his words didn’t as they stared into Tuck’s. “I need you to get Mrs. Harris a cool drink and stay with her while I gather a search party to help.”

  His voice was calm, but Tuck knew the danger the boy might be in. According to legend, the Osage Indians used to call the cave Devil’s Den and were afraid to enter. But that was due to their superstitions. At least there were no hostile animals inside. The main danger would be if the boy tried to walk around in the darkness. There were drop-offs and crevices he could fall into.

  Tuck breathed a silent prayer that the child would sit still until they found him. If they found him. Folks had been lost in the cave before. Or so the rumors went.

  As Mr. Lynch hurried toward the ladder, Tuck guided the frightened mother to a group of chairs standing near the front of the room. “Please be seated, Mrs. Harris, and try not to worry.”

  She was relieved to see Mr. Willie approaching with a tin cup of water. She thanked him and handed the cup to her charge.

  Mrs. Harris stared vacantly at the water and then looked up at Tuck, her lips quivering. “He said I was too slow. He pulled away from me and ran up to be with his father. I thought he’d be all right. Wouldn’t you think so?”

  Tuck wondered if the man had even known his son had run to his side. She took the chair next to Mrs. Harris and laid her hand on hers. “Tell me about your little boy.”

  “Oh, Tommy is such a busy little bee. He doesn’t stay still a moment. His Sunday school teacher says he’s the liveliest five-year-old she’s ever seen.”

  Five? Why would anyone take a five-year-old child into a dark cave with twists and turns and drop-offs? Even with lanterns. And why didn’t the woman call out to her husband and let him know the boy had run ahead? Anger boiled in Tuck, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. Casting blame wouldn’t do any good, and furthermore she didn’t know all the details.

  “Oh.” An agonized cry tore itself from the woman’s throat. “It’s all my fault. I should have made him stay with me. Oh what have I done? My little boy. My sweet baby.” Mrs. Harris jumped up and rushed back toward the cave. “I have to find him.”

  Tuck caught her and turned her gently around. “Mrs. Harris, you’ll never find him in the dark. Look, you don’t even have a lantern. The men will find him. Come sit back down.”

  “But, I—” She looked wildly around the room, swaying.

  Tuck caught her just as she fell. She laid her gently on the floor and called to Mr. Willie. “See if there’s someone outside with a wagon I can borrow.”

  “What are you planning to do with her?” Mr. Willie yelled as he half ran, half hobbled to do what she’d asked.

  “I’m taking her to Ma.” Ma would know what to do. She’d take care of Mrs. Harris and help her through this until Tommy was found. Tuck shuddered then, with resolve, pulled herself together. She leaned over the unconscious woman and patted her cheeks. Pulling a hanky from her skirt pocket, she dampened it in the untouched cup of water. As she patted the unresponsive woman with the damp cloth, all she received was a moan.

  A man in overalls came down the ladder, followed by a huffing and puffing Mr. Willie. Within a few minutes Tuck had tied Sweet Pea to the back of the wagon and climbed up on the seat. The Good Samaritan farmer whose name was Warren Holmes, lifted the half-conscious woman off his shoulder and up onto the seat where she leaned against Tuck’s shoulder. The chill in the air sent a shiver all through Tuck’s body. At least it wasn’t raining yet. Within minutes they were headed down the hill toward the Sullivan farm.

  Before Mr. Holmes had come to a full stop, Tuck jumped down from the wagon. “Ma! Addy!” She reached the door just as it flew open and Ma and Addy ran out.

  “What in the world is—?” Ma took one look and ran to show Mr. Holmes into the parlor. She motioned to the blue settee. “Lay her down here.”

  As her mother and sister gathered around the prostrate lady, Tuck told them what had happened, then rushed to her room and put on overalls and a warm sweater. She grabbed her coat from a nail in the closet and threw it over her arm, just in case someone needed it. She rushed back to the parlor. “I have to get back to the cave, Ma. There may be something I can do to help.” Tuck fidgeted from one foot to another.

  “All right.” Ma had opened a bottle of smelling salts and held it beneath the woman’s nose. “She seems to be coming to. We’ll take care of her. Send us word as soon as you find the child.”

  “I’ll not send word. I’ll bring it myself.” She kissed her mother on the cheek and grabbed Addy by the hand, pulling her with her through the door and onto the porch. “Sister, please pray for someone to find little Tommy. I’m so afraid for him.”

  Addy squeezed her hand. “Of course, Abby. Let’s pray now.”

  They bowed their heads and Addy spoke quietly. “Our Father in heaven, You know all things and see all things. You know where little Tommy Harris is right now, Lord. We pray Your holy protection over him and pray that You will keep him from being afraid. Guide the men who are searching for him, and let them find him soon. In the name of Jesus. Amen.”

  Tuck blinked back tears. This was the closest she’d felt to her twin sister in a long time. How could she have been so mean to her? Addy never had a mean or cruel thought for anyone. Reaching out she grabbed Addy and hugged her tightly. “I love you, sis.”

  The joy in Addy’s eyes and her warm smile were all the response Tuck needed.

  She jumped on Sweet Pea and headed back to Marble Cave, her sister’s prayer replaying in her mind. Surely everything would be all right.

  Rafe removed his hand carefully from the rock slab and found another handhold further down. He reached with his foot and felt solid ground. The only problem was it could have been a six-inch ledge or one of the wide rock corridors that weaved throughout the cave. “Hey! Sam! I think there’s a level place down here, but I need light.”

  “Rafe, that you?” Jim Castle’s voice rang out, reverberating from the sides of the cavern.

  “Yes, it’s me. Dr. Fields was supposed to be holding the lantern. Where did he go?”

  “Hold on. I’m coming down.” A rope fell from above and then Jim slid down, holding on with one hand while the other gripped a lantern. He held it downward, and Rafe could see a huge cavernous room below.

  Rafe turned loose of the rock and landed on the hard ground.

  Jim slid the rest of the way down the rope. “Okay, we’re down,” he yelled. “Send us another lantern and mark the spot.”

  The rope was raised and soon was lowered again, this time with a lantern tied to the end.

  Jim steadied himself against the rock wall while Rafe untied the lantern.

  “Now, what happened to Fields?” Rafe asked.

  Jim made an explosive sound of exasperation. “The good doctor grew faint and had to be escorted out.”

  “What? He was fine a few minutes ago,” Rafe said. “How’d he get sick that fast?”

  “Claimed there wasn’t enough air, but no one else seemed to be having any problem.” A wry smile twisted Jim’s lips. “Anyway, I’ve seen cowardice enough to know it when I see it.”

  “So a man had to leave the search to guide him out.” Rafe blew out a huff of air and hesitated. After all, this was Tuck’s beau they were talking about. “I guess we really shouldn’t judge the man. Anyone can panic. Maybe he has trouble with tight spaces.” But all he could think of was that little boy, lost and probably scared half to death. His nephew Bobby’s face popped into his head, and he swallowed hard to hold back the rising nausea. Lord, please help someone find Tommy soon.

  “Maybe. We’re more than likely better off without him. I sure wouldn’t want to trust him with my life or limbs.” He glanced to his right then his left. “Looks like we�
��ll need to split up here.”

  Rafe lit the lamp and headed down the dark passageway. Water dripped from somewhere above. “Tommy,” he called every minute or so. But no answering voice came back to him. No little boy’s cry. Not even a whimper.

  Tuck rushed forward as Bert Smith climbed out of the cave and half dragged Sam up after him.

  “Sam,” she cried out. “Are you hurt?”

  His face red, Sam shook his head. “Got lightheaded and couldn’t breathe. Not enough air I guess.”

  Surprised, Tuck glanced at Bert. His lips were pressed tightly together. He shook his head. “There’s plenty of air in there. Well, I gotta head back in. They need every hand they can get.”

  Without even thanking Bert, Sam grabbed Tuck’s arm and pulled her toward a log that lay on the ground. He dropped onto it, motioning for her to sit beside him. “That fool doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I tell you there’s not enough air when you go deep inside the cave.”

  Tuck licked her lips. She’d never heard anything about thin air in the cave. And Bert had seemed upset. Had Sam panicked due to fear? She bit her lip. Everyone experienced fear, but to leave the search for a child and, to top it all off, to take someone else away, too…Wasn’t that a sign of downright cowardice? She cringed inwardly at the disloyal thought. Of course Sam wasn’t a coward. After all, he didn’t grow up around here and maybe he looked at things differently. Besides, who could say for sure there wasn’t a pocket of thin air inside the cave?

  She took his hand. “Would you like for me to get you some water?”

  He looked down at her hand on his and smiled, possibly remembering the time he’d attempted to hold her hand and she pulled hers away.

  Heat burned her face. She removed her hand and placed it on her lap.

  He stood. “Thank you, no. I really need to go home in case someone needs me.”

  Stunned, she stood and faced him. “But Sam, what if the Harris boy needs you?”

  An impatient sound burst from his lips. “It’s very unlikely they’ll find the boy. And if by some miracle they do and he’s alive, someone will come for me, I’m sure.” He walked away and mounted his horse.