Uncertain Alliance

by Davis, Mary

  What could it hurt? If it kept Burl out of trouble, that would still be helpful to Alice. He had prayed for a way to help her. He felt lighter somehow just knowing he would be seeing Burl regularly, a small connection to her.

  ❧

  Alice set down her knitting for the sixth time and went to the window. The sun through the glass warmed her face. She could picture Ian at his store trying to convince Mr. Jenkins Sr. to brew the leaves of the cottonwood tree into a tea and put it on a cloth on his hands for his arthritis and to take a syrup for his cough. Mr. Jenkins would buy the syrup for his cough but not the arthritis treatment. Ian would slip the leaves into the old man’s pocket when he walked him to the door. Mr. Jenkins wasn’t the only customer Ian gave free medicine to or cut the price for. He was a generous man.

  “Oh why don’t you just go talk to him?” Grandpa growled.

  She turned. “Talk to whom?”

  “You know good and well. You’ve been skittering around this apartment for two days. You’re worse than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. Git.” He waved her away.

  She did at least owe Ian an apology for yelling at him the way she had. She swung on her shawl. “I’ll be back in time to make supper.”

  Grandpa smiled. “Bring company for supper.”

  “No, Grandpa.” She shook her head as she slipped out the door.

  Another beautiful day. It seemed Old Man Winter had decided to let Seattle dry out for the past month. The puddles were gone, and the streets were dry. But dark clouds were billowing in from the west, and there was a bite in the air. She pulled her shawl closer. She should have worn her coat. Yes, their streak of fair weather had come to an end. Just when she was beginning to think that spring would come early this year.

  She stopped just short of Ian’s store. Lord, give me the strength to face this battle. Help me to hold my tongue. Guard my speech. She wouldn’t even entertain the idea that Ian would give her the job back. Bracing herself for his inevitable disapproval, she opened the door.

  Mr. Jackson was helping a customer, but Ian was nowhere in sight. Mr. Jackson raised his eyebrows then finished up the sale. “Mrs. Dempsey, what a pleasant surprise.”

  Mr. Jackson didn’t turn her out immediately. That had to be good. “I’m looking for Mr. MacGregor.”

  “You are?”

  Mr. Jackson looked troubled, and she couldn’t figure out why. “Is he here?”

  “Ian? No. He stepped out. He might be back soon. Would you like to wait?”

  She felt like an unwelcome guest at a fancy birthday party. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure? He could be back any minute.”

  “I’ll return another time.”

  “He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

  She wasn’t so sure of that as she left. He’d probably be glad he missed another potential tirade from her. She could use this time to figure out just what to say to him. She walked over a block and headed up the hill but stopped short when she saw Burl walking on the other side of the street.

  With Mr. MacGregor!

  How dare he go behind her back? Flashes of Oscar deceiving her and gambling away their farm cluttered her head. From the beginning, he’d set out to dupe her. She’d promised herself she would never be that gullible again. Just when she would think she could trust Ian, he’d go behind her back.

  “Burl!”

  Her brother jerked his head up, and his eyes grew large. “Uh-oh.”

  Ian looked up at her with wide eyes, then closed them and ducked his head in defeat. The two of them crossed the street. “Go to your sister.”

  “I don’t wanna.”

  Ian gave him a stern look. “Go.”

  Burl came to her with a book in his hand. “We wasn’t doing nothin’ wrong. After school I was just walkin’ down the street and I seen Mr. MacGregor. So I stopped to talk. I was only being polite.”

  “A chance meeting? Is that what you expect me to believe?” She grabbed the corner of the book he held tightly and shook her head. “You expect me to believe you took this route home from school?”

  Burl nodded.

  “School is twelve blocks in the other direction!”

  Burl twisted the toe of his shoe on the sidewalk. “I wanted to get some exercise.” He was hopeless.

  She expected better out of Ian. “Mr. MacGregor, do you always walk around town with an armload of books?”

  He shook his head.

  She held out her hand to Burl. “Give me the book.”

  “Mr. MacGregor gave it to me.”

  “He can keep it. I want him to have it.”

  It would be too much of a battle to try to wrestle the book from Burl. He was getting too big for that. She glared at Ian. “Stay away from my brother. Don’t ever see him again.” If she couldn’t trust him with this small request, how could she trust him with something bigger?

  “No, Alice, no!” Burl pulled on her arm.

  “Come on. We’re going home.”

  “I want Mr. MacGregor to teach me.”

  “We’ll talk about this at home.”

  “I hate you.” Burl stormed off down the street.

  “I really meant no harm.” Ian held out his free arm. “I only wanted to help. He said he would stay out of trouble and stay in school like you wanted.”

  “You went behind my back.” Tears threatened her eyes.

  “I never meant to.”

  “But you did. You deceived me. That’s what hurts most.” She turned and walked away, the ache inside her chest ripping wide open.

  ❧

  Ian was glad that there were no customers in his store when he returned. He locked the door and pulled the shade. “If I could dig myself a hole any deeper, I could be buried standing up.”

  “What’s happened?” Conner held a broom. With Burl and Alice not working for Ian anymore, someone had to sweep.

  “I saw Alice.”

  “She was in here asking after you.”

  “Did you tell her where to find me?” He studied Conner’s face.

  “No. I tried to get her to stay and wait for you. She said she’d come back. I’ll guess she’s not coming back.”

  “Only if I were dead.”

  Conner leaned the broom against the counter and stood next to him. “What happened?”

  “She caught Burl and me walking along the street together. I think she was madder than when her grandfather tried to force her to marry me. It was like flaming arrows shooting out from her beautiful blue eyes.” He never wanted to see her that mad or to disappoint her so again.

  Conner frowned. “I’m really sorry. If I had known she was going to head that direction, I’d have forced her to stay. Then she’d only be mad at me.”

  “It’s not your fault. I knew when she said she didn’t want Burl in the store that she really meant she didn’t want him near me.” Burl had known it, too, and they’d both gone against her wishes.

  “I don’t know why she can’t look at all this logically and see you were trying to help. If it’s any consolation, I think she should do as her grandfather asked and marry you.”

  It was nice to have Conner on his side, but the only person that really mattered was Alice. He hoped Arthur was right and she would “simmer down.” She had more to simmer down from now. But she had come to his store looking for him. That was a small consolation now that he’d angered her further.

  ❧

  Burl stomped up the stairs ahead of Alice.

  “Burl, be considerate of the other people.”

  He stomped harder, went into their apartment, and slammed the door before she got there.

  Her head pounded. She hadn’t the patience to deal with him right now. Once they both calmed down, she would recant her hasty decision. She shouldn’t have told Burl he couldn’t see Mr. MacGregor. If Mr. MacGregor wanted to spend his time helping Burl, it would be good. She’d felt hurt and betrayed—again—and the words had flown from her mouth. Oscar had done more tha
n stolen their farm; he’d stolen her trust in people—trust she might have had for Ian.

  Alice went inside. Burl sat on his bed with his arms and legs folded. She would let him think about what he’d done for a bit first. She’d tell him after supper. She made a simple meal of fried eggs and potatoes.

  Grandpa pushed his plate forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Out with it, you two. You’re both in snits, and I want to get this over with.”

  Burl folded his arms across his chest. “I hate her.”

  “Burl, that’s no way to talk about your sister,” Grandpa scolded.

  He had a right to his anger. She’d been unreasonable. “Tell Grandpa what you did today.”

  “I ran into Mr. MacGregor, and we was just talkin’.”

  “We were just talking.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “We was jus’ talkin’.”

  She took a deep breath at his defiance. “They planned it behind my back. Mr. MacGregor had a whole stack of books.”

  “We wasn’t doing nothin’ wrong.” Burl stood.

  “Sit down, young man,” Grandpa ordered.

  “I like Mr. MacGregor better’n you.” Burl jabbed a finger in the air toward her then bolted out the door.

  She stood to go after him.

  Grandpa put his hand on her arm. “Let him go. He’ll simmer down and be back.”

  She stared at the closed door for a moment then rubbed her temple and nodded. “I’m going to lie down for a while before I clean up the dishes.” She wetted a cloth with cool water for her forehead and closed herself in her room.

  She’d made a mess of things. Everything had been going well when she worked for Ian. She’d been unfair to him and to Burl. She closed her eyes and laid the damp cloth over them. She hadn’t needed any help from Ian to turn Burl away from her. She’d done it all by herself.

  Lord, I’ll make this right for Burl. Please don’t let Mr. MacGregor hold my actions against Burl. Let him still be willing to instruct him. And. . .and. . .

  There was something more in her heart to pray, but she couldn’t get the words to form.

  And if she were fortunate, Ian would forgive her as well.

  Fifteen

  Alice woke with a start. The room was dark, and no light was coming from under her door, either. She felt the bed next to her but didn’t find Miles there. She lit the candle on the floor next to her bed. Miles wasn’t anywhere in the room, so she opened the door.

  Grandpa sat at the table hunched over as though he were sleeping. The small nub of a candle that had been on the table had burned down to nothing and gone out. Cooled wax lay in a white pool on the rough wooden surface. She held her light high and could see Miles curled up on Grandpa and Burl’s straw mattress, but no Burl. She searched the room. Burl wasn’t anywhere.

  “Grandpa,” she whispered.

  He didn’t move.

  She set her candle down and jostled his shoulder. “Grandpa.”

  He moaned and raised his head. “I must’ve drifted off.”

  “Burl’s not here. What time is it?”

  Grandpa took out his pocket watch. “After eight o’clock.”

  She rushed out into the hall to see if he was sitting there waiting for them to notice he hadn’t returned. Empty. She ran down the stairs and out the front door. An icy rain fell on her face as she scanned the street. She gripped her arms against the bitter wind. February was turning out to be as cold as January—maybe colder. Burl wasn’t anywhere in sight. The bite in the chilly air pushed her back inside.

  She ran up to the apartment and swung on the old coat that Marjorie and Sally had given her. “He’s not anywhere. I’m going to look for him.”

  “I’ll go, too.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “Stay with Miles. I don’t need you out in this getting sick again. You just got rid of that cough. I can move faster than you.”

  “I just feel so useless. I want to do something.”

  “Pray I find him quickly.”

  Grandpa folded his hand into a fist and rested his head on it. Already praying.

  She put on her straw hat and tied her shawl over it and under her chin before heading out.

  She wandered aimlessly through the streets calling Burl’s name. Where could he be? She ended up near the school. Yes! He might go there. She searched the grounds and around the building calling. He wasn’t there.

  She stopped in the middle of the play yard. She didn’t know where else to look. Where would he go? Lord, where should I look? Help me find him.

  They had quarreled about Mr. MacGregor. Maybe he’d go to the store. She hurried there. The underground sidewalk was dark. She felt her way along the storefronts until she reached the pharmacy—at least she thought it was—but found the door locked. She knocked but heard nothing. Mr. Jackson had to be there. He lived in the back. Please don’t let him be out for the evening or staying on the ship with his friend Captain Carlyle. She knocked harder. This store was the only place she could think to look. If she had to, she’d break the window to wake him. He had to be here.

  Fred started barking and getting closer to the door. Then she could see light behind the shade over the door window. The shade rolled up, and Mr. Jackson stood in a shirt, pants, and suspenders. He held the light close to the door and squinted.

  She leaned into the light. “Mr. Jackson, it’s me, Alice.”

  His eyes widened, and he immediately unlocked the door. “Mrs. Dempsey?”

  “Is Burl here?”

  “No.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

  She stepped inside. “Are you sure?”

  Fred jumped up on her leg. Mr. Jackson pushed the dog away with his foot. “You’re the only visitor I’ve had since we locked up. Why do you think Burl would be here?”

  “We quarreled, and he ran off. I thought he might come looking for Mr. MacGregor.” She looked about for any sign of Burl or Ian.

  “He didn’t come here.”

  Her heart plummeted. “Where else would he go?”

  “You don’t think he’d consider setting sail?” Mr. Jackson said.

  “He hates the water. He can’t swim.”

  “But you two did have a fight.”

  “Oh, Burl.” She covered her face with her hands. Please, Burl, don’t have set sail just to spite me. Lord, protect him wherever he is.

  “Do you think he’d go looking for Ian?” Mr. Jackson asked.

  She removed her hands from her face. “He doesn’t know where he lives.”

  “That we know of. If he’s not there, Ian might have a few ideas of where to look. At the very least, he would be one more person looking.”

  There was a slim chance Burl knew where Ian lived, and if he did know, he would certainly go there. “Where does he live?”

  “Let me get my coat and shoes, and I’ll take you.” Mr. Jackson ran to the back with Fred on his heels. He returned lickety-split with a hat on his head and shoving his cast arm into one sleeve of his coat. Fred tried to follow them out the door.

  “You stay here, girl.”

  Fred whined and wagged her tail.

  “No, Fred.” Mr. Jackson handed Alice the lamp and closed the door.

  She could see Fred through the door on her hind legs, hopping.

  Mr. Jackson locked the door and took the light.

  “It’s raining up there.” She wanted him to be prepared.

  “I figured as much.”

  “You did?”

  He smiled. “You’re dripping wet.”

  She looked at her coat sleeve. She hadn’t thought that she must look like a half-drowned cat. “Is Mr. MacGregor’s house far?”

  “About half a mile.”

  When they broke above ground, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Mr. Jackson guided her across the street and over a block. The rain began to come down harder again and sting.

  “Hail.” Mr. Jackson took her arm and pulled her up the street and into a doorway overhang. “We’ll wait it out here.”


  Pea-sized ice balls bounced on the ground. “We can’t stop.”

  Mr. Jackson held her in place in the confined area, his body shielding her from hail blowing in. “I’m sure it’ll only be a few minutes.” Mr. Jackson had to yell to be heard over the downpour of hail.

  Burl was out in this somewhere. Please let Burl be safely at Ian’s. She refused to give in to the tears that wanted to flow. What if Burl was at Ian’s and Ian kept him from her? Would he do that?

  “Ian only wants to help you.” Mr. Jackson’s level voice close to her ear startled her. “He cares a lot for you.”

  “Not after today. I’ve made such a mess of things. He’ll likely never speak to me again.” She wished she could take it all back.

  “Sure he will.”

  She hoped so, but right now all she wanted to do was find Burl safe. She was so tired of being strong for everyone. So tired of struggling. She just wanted to give up. She resisted the urge to collapse into Mr. Jackson’s arms and cry.

  ❧

  “Amen.” Ian raised his head and looked up at the clock on his mantel. After nine. He should head off to bed. He closed the Bible that was on his lap and put it on the table beside his chair.

  He’d been unsettled all evening. Usually reading the Word and praying helped calm his nerves and give him focus, but not tonight. He kept seeing Alice’s angry face and the hurt he’d caused her. And the fury with which Burl had verbally struck his sister. That had wounded her. Ian had pleaded with God to show him how to make it all up to her.

  He understood Alice’s reluctance to trust him after her husband had taken advantage of her naiveté. He’d been naive once, too. It was hard to trust again.

  He turned out the light on the table, and Tiny flipped over and stood in one fluid motion. “No, boy. You sleep down here.” But as he banked the fire in the stove then blew out one of the lights on his mantel, Tiny was nowhere. He’d silently lumbered upstairs. Ian wasn’t sure why he even tried to keep the dog out of his room. At least he’d succeeded at keeping him off the bed. So far.

  He took the other mantel light and headed upstairs to bed. Maybe if he were lying down, his thoughts would finally settle. There was nothing he could do tonight to make things right with Alice. Maybe the solution would come to him as he drifted off to sleep or in the morning after a good night’s rest.