Shelter from the Storm

by Patricia Rice

  Marshall chortled at her irate language and gave her bloated stomach a wicked stare. “That’s all right. You ain’t much to look at like that anyway. Your cooking ain’t much to brag about either, but I don’t expect any of you Southern ladies to know about cooking without slaves. I’ll bide my time. We’ll get along, you’ll see. Just you keep your mouth shut about everything else, and we’ll do just fine.”

  She didn’t have much choice. Laura merely nodded and went to fetch blankets. The climb into the loft was too difficult at this stage. She was small and the parlor sofa would hold her. As if any bed could be comfortable for a belly that stuck out so far that nothing could hold it. Damn Cash, damn Jonathan, and damn Marshall Brown to hell. Never would she traffic with another man again. They weren’t worth the effort.

  Chapter 16

  “Excuse me for intruding, Mrs. Brown. I’m Dr. Peter Burke, Jonathan’s associate. He told me to look in on you as soon as I arrived in town.” He had also been told that this faded young woman was Broadbent’s fiancée, but his glance to Laura’s obvious pregnancy made him hesitate to mention that.

  Laura interpreted the look just the same. Forcing a smile, she gestured for him to enter. Although it wasn’t quite April, the sun was hot, and she could see the perspiration on his forehead. “Jonathan told me you would be arriving soon, Doctor. It’s a pleasure to have you here. The winter and spring have been harsh, and without Jonathan’s experience, there has been little I can do to alleviate the inevitable illness.”

  Burke entered the parlor and looked around at the crowded bookshelf in the corner, the masculine solidity of the furniture, and the other evidence that this was still Jonathan’s home, and he sent her a curious look, but he settled into the chair indicated.

  “Shall I fetch you some coffee, Doctor? There’s still a chill in the air despite the sun.”

  He shook his head. “No, please, stay seated. You should be resting. When is the baby due?”

  Laura relaxed at this easy introduction of a subject uppermost in her mind. “In another two months, if I calculate correctly. I’m rather grateful that someone will be available in case of complications. I know a reliable midwife, but this is my first, and I’m nervous about it.”

  “Would you permit me to examine you if I get my bag?” He studied the dark shadows beneath her eyes, considered her slightness despite the advanced pregnancy, noted other signs that made him uneasy, and offered his full sympathy despite the variety of stories he had heard.

  Laura glanced nervously to the door, wrung her hands, and shook her head in defeat. “No, better not. My husband will be home soon and will want his dinner. Would you care to stay for the meal? We would be glad of your company.”

  Burke had seen enough women afraid of their husbands to know the symptoms. He studied the fading bruise along her cheekbone, a flaming red scald at the base of her palm, and met her eyes. “I thank you, Mrs. Brown, but I have only come to request your assistance. Jonathan said he had an office behind the house that I might be able to use until I could establish a place of my own. Would it be too much to ask if you would consider my renting it from you?”

  Laura pulled her scalded palm into the cuff of her gown and avoided the doctor’s eye. He was younger than Jonathan, about Cash’s age, she surmised, but she could read every thought on his expressive features. Perhaps the unruly lock of dark blond hair falling over his brow only gave the appearance of youth. The intelligence in his sharp blue eyes belied any youthful innocence. She could feel the heat of the burn all the way up her arm. He couldn’t possibly know Marshall had done that only this morning, in a fit of temper when she had burned his bacon.

  “You are welcome to use it free of charge, Dr. Burke. This is Jonathan’s home, and he may offer its use whenever necessary. I daresay now that Marshall has returned, we will be looking for a place of our own, and you will be able to live here instead of wherever you are staying. Have you been putting up at the hotel?”

  “I’ve found a room at Mrs. Parker’s that suits me nicely. Please do not think of abandoning this place on my account. I’m not married and I don’t know how to cook, and Mrs. Parker’s meals are preferable to most of the places I’ve ever known.”

  “She is eminently respectable, I agree. Would you care to see the office?” Anything to distract that piercing look. He reminded Laura of Cash in that respect. This man would correspond with Jonathan. She had to do something, say something, to keep him from writing about her plight.

  “I would appreciate that. Is there an outer entrance so I won’t disturb you with my comings and goings?” He rose when she did, and followed her through the kitchen.

  “Of course. Jonathan keeps his carriage out here and uses the carriage alley. His horse is over at the livery right now, since I can’t take care of it, but you’re welcome to keep it here. We’re only too glad to have a physician again. You’ll find that all homes welcome you.”

  As he studied the layout of the office, examining rooms, and Jonathan’s small laboratory, he asked questions, finally concluding with the one Laura dreaded to hear. “Let me examine that burn on your hand, Mrs. Brown. How did you come by it in such an awkward place?”

  He didn’t give her a chance to refuse but took her hand and pushed her cuff up. Laura allowed him to look and apply salve but kept her secrets to herself. “It was an accident, Doctor. I grow clumsier with each passing day. May I trust you, Dr. Burke?”

  He gave her a speculative glance but returned to his work. “I certainly hope so. Jonathan and I have corresponded regularly after an article of his appeared in a medical magazine while I was still in school. His thoughts and mine run much on the same path, which was why I was eager to come here. I regret that it took so long for me to make the move.”

  “Then you know that Jonathan is ill, that he needs to remain in Arizona and rest, that he shouldn’t be emotionally disturbed in any way. I, too, know how to read medical journals.”

  Burke applied a bandage and straightened to meet her gaze. “He tells me the tubercular lesion is not extensive and that he hopes to recover well enough to return for you within the next year. I shouldn’t think he ought to make that kind of journey in vain.”

  Laura heard the disapproval in his voice, but that was the least of her worries. Turning at the sound of a door closing in the front of the house, she spoke hastily. “No, of course not. Things have happened rather quickly, and I’ve feared to disturb him. I’ll write to him soon. But you do understand my position? I don’t want him thinking he must play the part of gallant knight. It would be worse than useless. Do not jump to hasty conclusions before you’ve had time to learn the situation.”

  Marshall’s voice carried easily and they both moved toward the connecting door to the house. Burke opened the door for her and bowed as she passed by. In a low whisper he replied, “I’ll be patient, Mrs. Brown. Perhaps you’ll come to trust me a little more in time. From what I understand, you are too intelligent a woman to do otherwise.”

  Laura pretended not to hear him as she greeted her “husband,” who stood suspiciously in the center of the kitchen, watching them. “Marshall, this is Dr. Burke. I’ve just been showing him Jonathan’s offices. He will be taking Jonathan’s place for now.”

  Marshall immediately assumed his most genial smile and held out his hand. “Dr. Burke, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  By the time the doctor left, Laura could feel Marshall’s temper simmering, and she frantically searched for some means of escape. She had been right about Marshall’s propensity for cruelty. Often it was a subtle cruelty such as eating the entire meal she had prepared before she could swallow a few bites, or “accidentally” dropping the sewing she was working on into the fire after she had denied him the few coins in her purse. But there were other times, times when his frustration and fears and fury boiled to the top, and he unleashed his meanness. She felt one of those times about to erupt now, and she was helpless to prevent it.

  As soon as the door
closed behind their visitor, Marshall turned and smacked the back of his hand across her face. Laura staggered, grabbing a chair for support, holding her hand up to the pain, but refusing to cringe before his furious gaze.

  “Why in hell did you tell that busybody he could use our place? I don’t need him out there at all hours watching what I do.”

  She should have known that. Reason and logic didn’t apply in Marshall’s warped mind. She knew he still rode out at night with his vicious band of men, but it had never occurred to her to deny the only doctor in town the office that Jonathan had told him he could use. Hiding the patronizing defiance she felt as she watched the stupid cunning on his face, she answered as reasonably as she was able.

  “I told you that this place doesn’t belong to me, but to Jonathan. He offered Dr. Burke the use of it, not me. Once Jonathan finds out about us, he has every right to ask us to leave so Dr. Burke can live here. You had better contemplate finding another place to live.”

  Marshall hooked his thumb in his belt and gave her a considering look. “That farm of your cousin’s looks fair game to me. You’re supposed to be looking after it, ain’t you?”

  She had feared that he would discover that. She had not returned to the farm since the weather had turned, nor had she taken much of Cash’s money for her services. Now that spring was here, the painters and the carpenters could come to her here in town when they needed supplies, but she had hoped Marshall would be too busy with his plotting to notice.

  “Cash and Sallie will be returning soon. I haven’t been invited to live with them, and you can be certain that Cash will not appreciate you inviting yourself.” Keeping the chair between them, Laura straightened, although all she really wanted to do was sit down and cry.

  She couldn’t believe she had sinned so badly to deserve this much punishment, but she could see no hope of escape. The child, alone, would be with her for a lifetime, a scar of shame for all to see. Why must Marshall be added to the burden?

  “No man could object to a free cook and housemaid. That’s what you did for the holier-than-thou Ward, didn’t you? And how else are you to keep an eye on those thieving carpenters? Even your cousin couldn’t expect you to go out there every day in your condition. I think that’s the ticket. We’ll already be installed by the time they come home. There won’t be any polite way they can throw us out. It’s bound to be a sight better than this hovel. I’d suggest you start packing your things today.”

  Laura let the horror and humiliation wash over her. Closing her eyes, she swayed at the thought of living in the same house with Cash and Sallie, feeling their sympathy, their irritation at her unwelcome presence. She would rather die, but she knew better than to say that out loud. “Dinner is almost ready,” she murmured, and pushed away from the chair without looking at him again.

  ***

  In the weeks since the doctor’s arrival, Laura had deliberately ignored Marshall’s command to begin packing. He had returned a little over six weeks ago, and it felt like a lifetime. She had learned how to avoid the worst of his wrath by never confronting him directly, but sooner or later he would demand to know why she wasn’t ready. And then the violence would begin.

  She placed her hand over the huge swelling of her stomach and felt the kicks of life within. The baby wasn’t due for weeks. She didn’t know if she could hold out that long, although Dr. Burke had assured her the child was doing well. But he had said she had better get more rest or risk having the child early. She had tried, honestly tried, but the choice between going without rest or risking Marshall’s wrath had only one clear-cut answer. She was too exhausted to even think clearly anymore.

  The roads to the farm were open now, and the painters and carpenters were hard at work. She really ought to see what they were doing, but she had sent Jettie in her place. Jettie hadn’t wanted to leave Laura, but they both knew there was little enough that she could do. Marshall had the entire town eating out of his hand. He even attended church on Sunday without her, accepting the well-wishes of Laura’s friends and their sympathy and understanding at her confinement. He’d had the nerve to tell them that the doctor had told her to rest and not accept visitors, so there were few to see the bruises on her face or the dark shadows beneath her eyes.

  He had already gone out to the farm to look things over for himself. It was only a matter of time before he demanded that they remove to the mansion’s luxury. Dr. Burke had been a constant visitor and a burr under Marshall’s saddle since he had arrived. Laura knew the situation was explosive, but she could not commit herself to leaving the protection of town and imposing on the empty hospitality of Stone Creek. With no friends at all within screaming distance, it would be akin to leaving the frying pan for the fire.

  Ignoring the pain in her back, Laura stirred the beans over the fire and waited for Marshall’s inevitable return at the end of another tedious day. With May just around the corner, it was still light out, and she didn’t have to stumble through the house lighting lanterns so he wouldn’t fall over the furniture when he entered. Somehow, it seemed easier to face Marshall during the day, and Laura kept her gaze fixed on the spot of sunlight through the room’s one window.

  As the sunlight faded, so did her hopes. When Marshall came home after dark, it meant he was drunk. She had learned the pattern. When he meant to ride out and perpetrate some filthy act, he came home early and sober to eat. But when there was nothing planned for the evening, he drank himself under the table. Sometimes he was too drunk to lift a hand. Others, he was just nasty enough to use her for a punching bag.

  The day had been warm, and spring lingered in the air even with the onset of darkness. Laura felt nervous and restless as the night grew late. Marshall had once again ordered her to pack and be ready to leave, and once again she had disobeyed. The child inside her hadn’t moved all day, and she worriedly covered her abdomen. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her veins.

  Her backed ached with every movement. If Marshall struck her tonight, she wouldn’t be able to get back up if she fell. She was terrified he would hurt the child. So far, he hadn’t gone that far, but it was only a matter of time. He spoke resentfully of her size, used vulgar language when he mentioned the baby’s father, and indicated he had every intention of using her for wife once the child was born. She had to make some decision soon, but there just didn’t seem to be any escape.

  Dr. Burke offered the only hope of understanding, but Laura couldn’t imagine how he could protect her from Marshall. Like Jonathan, he was a man of intelligence and sensitivity, not a man prone to carrying a gun as Marshall did. He would have to be her last resort.

  As a palliative to her anxiety, Laura started packing a small bag of necessities and some of the baby linen she had accumulated. Perhaps it would be better if she could hide from Marshall until the baby was born. She could go to Jettie’s mother, beg her to find her a harbor in the other tiny cabins and cottages of former slaves and freedmen scattered throughout the country.

  None of the white community knew anything about the black society in their midst. Laura knew that much from her dealings with Jettie. Not a soul in town had any idea that Jettie’s child belonged to Ward. Few even recognized Jettie as the nurse who had cared for Ward during his last illness. The black population might as well be invisible for all anyone else knew or cared. All she had to do was persuade them to hide her.

  Knowing that was an impossible thing to ask of strangers, Laura kept on packing anyway. She had to do something or go mad. She couldn’t just sit and wait for Marshall to return and beat her senseless. The more she thought about it, the faster she packed. She had no way of knowing that this wouldn’t be one of the nights when he was too drunk to stand and had to be carried home. She just knew she had to escape.

  As it was, she was too late. While she hesitated over stepping out into the night, she heard Marshall’s steps on the back porch. Laura’s gaze fell to the telltale bag sitting on the kitchen table, and she calculated how much time
it would take to move her bulky body out of the kitchen and into the parlor before Marshall entered. Not enough.

  The door swung open and he saw her there, hands on the bag, a guilty expression on her face. It didn’t take a strong mind to know what she had intended. With a sneer, he made the single step across the room and backhanded her across the face.

  “Run out on me, will you? Did you think me the same kind of milksop as your doctor friend? Where did you think you were going that I wouldn’t come after you? Not to Burke’s, if you’re smart. He’s been treating the coloreds and there’s been some nasty words said about it around town. I ain’t about to stop what’s going to happen to him.”

  The pain in her cheek couldn’t compare to the others she suffered, and Laura eased her weight back to her feet from the support of the table. “You told me to pack, so I packed. Burke has nothing to do with this.”

  Marshall smacked her again, harder. For good measure, he hit her again, watching in satisfaction as Laura staggered backward, her fingers too weak to grasp the sink board as she slid to the floor. “Don’t lie to me. You think you’re Miss Holier-Than-Thou, but you ain’t nothing but the same piece of trash as your cousin’s rich husband. I bet you spread your legs for half the town before trapping that damned doctor, and he ran away when he found out. That’s what they’ll be saying soon enough if you try to leave here.”

  Pain exploded inside Laura’s head with his blow, and she could scarcely hear his words or comprehend their meaning. Fearing he was more than capable of kicking her when she was down, Laura tried to cling to the sink and the red blur of consciousness.

  When she didn’t pull herself upright, Marshall chortled and knelt beside her, grabbing her hair and shoving his whiskey-soured breath in her face. “I mean to be a man of position around here, wife. And you’re going to help me to it. Now, you got your choice. You do what I say without complaint, or I make you learn what it’s like to have nothing.” One thick hand went to the bulge of her abdomen. “And I can start right here.”