The Calm of Night (Kansas Crossroads Book 10)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Not at all.” He sat up and looked at her squarely. “Are you still interested in discussing this? Should we wait until later, when you’re feeling better?”

  “Let’s talk now—I have no way of knowing when I’m going to feel better. I didn’t even know I was sick.” Nancy Ann gestured toward him. “Please, go ahead.”

  He leaned forward again. “I have no desire to argue with you, so please know that as we go forward.” He took a deep breath. “You commented that the South didn’t acknowledge the humanity of the slaves, if I recall.”

  She nodded. He was being circumspect—she was sure she’d been much more acerbic when she spoke.

  “My father’s a learned man, and we’ve spent hours discussing this very thing. The slave question was certainly a huge motivating force for the war, but what most Northerners don’t realize is that it wasn’t the only factor. You were . . . how old when the war started?”

  “I was six years old.”

  “And I was ten. We were children—we were too young to understand. Most of what we know, we got from our parents.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m asking. Please, tell me what I haven’t been told.” She could appreciate what he was saying, but at the same time, she felt as if she was being told she was uneducated somehow, and that rankled. It was probably the fact that she was quite tired, and now not feeling well. He was still speaking kindly, and she was reading into it things that weren’t there.

  “My family has never owned slaves—not even going back a few generations, when my great-grandfather was a successful landowner. My father’s reason for fighting had nothing to do with a desire to retain his slaves, but it had everything to do with states’ rights. South Carolina resented the government’s interference into the laws that had been put into place by the individual states, and felt that if the government could just swoop in and change whatever they wanted, they wouldn’t have the freedom that our country is supposed to represent. This extended far beyond the slave question, but to anything the South wanted to do, good or bad or indifferent.” His voice had risen a bit as he spoke, but he managed to bring it back down to normal levels.

  Timothy was right—Nancy Ann hadn’t heard this before. “So it wasn’t just about wanting to keep slaves.”

  “We wanted choices. There were plenty of landowners who wanted to keep their slaves, but my father was all for supporting states’ rights, and that was his motivation. States should have their own laws, free of government entanglement.” Timothy looked down at the carpet for a moment, then back up. “This was all years ago, and while it did shape our characters, the war is over, the outcome is decided, and there’s nothing we can do about that even if we wanted to. I suggest we bury the hatchet—we both have good intentions in this, and we don’t want to harm one another. Are we friends?”

  “Of course we are.” She still felt the way she had before, but she could now better understand him—and it helped that his family had never owned slaves. She knew Harriet came from a wealthy plantation family that had owned slaves, but Harriet’s situation was so different, she couldn’t feel anything but compassion. She could extend those types of feelings to Timothy as well.

  And once she put aside her frustration, she found herself wanting to know more about him. “What brought you to Kansas?”

  He chuckled. “It’s kind of a long story, but I’ll try to give you the short version. I had the idea that I would travel west and make my fortune, just as so many others try to do. I got to talking with some men on the train, and I realized I wanted more of a stable life than constantly seeking out this opportunity or that. They’d made a bit of money on gold, but it seemed that their earnings were about the same as a man could get working a regular job, but with more risks. When I got off the train to stretch my legs in Topeka, I overheard Mr. Greening chatting with Mr. Hoover about his need to hire a banker, and I’ve always been very quick with math, so I decided to hire on and stay here.”

  “So you’re not the adventurous type after all?” Nancy Ann asked with a smile.

  “Oh, I don’t know if I’d say that. I love all kinds of outdoor adventures—hiking, fishing, exploring. When it comes to my finances, though, I’m rather boring and predictable.”

  “I don’t see anything wrong with wanting security.”

  Mrs. Pettigrew came back, carrying two cups of tea. “This one will help your lungs, dear,” she said, handing it to Nancy Ann. “And this one just tastes good.” She passed it over to Timothy. “The doctor has gone to catch forty winks, but says that when he wakes up, he’ll take you back to the hotel.”

  “Really? I don’t have to stay here?” As soon as Nancy Ann said the words, she realized they might be taken the wrong way, and she blushed. “I mean, I’m not contagious?”

  Mrs. Pettigrew laughed. “Your lungs took a beating out in the storm last night and that was the reason they became congested, so you shouldn’t be contagious. He said he’ll have you wear a scarf over your nose and mouth so you’re not inhaling cold air, but that you’ll be fine for the short ride.”

  “Oh, that’s good. I was worried that you’d have to put up with me a while longer. I disliked the idea of intruding for so long.”

  “It’s no bother at all. Now, I have some bread almost ready to come out of the oven, and some nice soup on the stove. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” She hurried back out, leaving Nancy Ann to wonder if she ever did things at normal speeds.

  The tea was very soothing. She picked up on hints of ginger amongst other things she couldn’t identify.

  “And what about you?” Timothy asked, setting his cup on the small table near his elbow. “What brought you to Topeka?”

  She should have known he would ask—it was, after all, the polite thing to do after he’d shared his story with her. “Well, I come from a large family, and after taking care of all of us for so many years, my mother decided it was time for me to head out on my own.” She spoke lightly, hoping he wouldn’t press for details.

  But that didn’t work. “She decided? Do you mean, she threw you out?”

  “It wasn’t so much a throw as it was, a persistent pressure on my back until I left.” Nancy Ann took another sip of her tea. “Accompanied by yelling.”

  Timothy looked aghast. “I don’t understand. How could a mother turn one of her children out like that?”

  “She hasn’t been herself since Father was killed. With her own parents dead and no other relatives, she felt isolated and without support, and it made her into someone she’s not.” Nancy Ann didn’t know why she felt the need to defend her mother—she had every reason to be bitter. But she couldn’t speak ill. She’d heard her mother sobbing her heart out every night—no one who had witnessed that kind of grief could pass judgment.

  “Astonishing.”

  “It’s not all that uncommon, really. Every girl at the hotel has a story to tell—some quite similar to mine.”

  Timothy blinked. “Every one?”

  “Every one. If our home lives were ideal, we wouldn’t have the need to seek out employment. Oh, I’d say the Appleby girls are probably exempt—they have a loving family and work out only to help with finances, but all the rest of us have had some tragedy to overcome. It’s quite dramatic, really.” She chuckled, but that made her cough. And coughing hurt.

  Timothy waited until she was finished, then said, “I suppose I’ve been very naïve. I thought you all worked at the hotel because you wanted to.”

  “It’s a safe, secure environment, and if we have to be away from our families, it’s the next best thing. I believe every one of us would say, though, that if we were given a choice, we’d rather be with our families, in situations that were more ideal.”

  “I’m sure you would.” He shook his head. “Honestly, after hearing these small snippets of what you’ve been through, I feel ashamed. I haven’t endured nearly what you have, and here I thought my life was full of hardship. I didn’t get to attend the university I wanted, and at th
e time, I believed it would be the end of me.”

  “It’s silly to compare trials. I’m sure that was very difficult for you, and I don’t think there’s a way to measure whether my heartbreak is greater than yours. That would be a very sad kind of superiority.”

  Mrs. Pettigrew returned just then to invite them into the kitchen to eat, and Nancy Ann was grateful for the change of subject. She very much disliked thinking about the past—it had never done her any good, and she would much rather hear about pleasant things. Mrs. Pettigrew filled that need quite nicely as she told them about the lambs the doctor hoped to raise in the spring, and described the other animals they’d raised in the past. That, in addition, to the delicious food, lifted Nancy Ann’s spirits considerably.

  Chapter Nine

  “Well now, that’s certainly better,” Dr. Pettigrew said, coming into the parlor and putting on his suit coat as he walked. “Nothing like a nap to set the day right again. How are you, my dear?”

  “Coughing quite a bit, but the congestion seems to be moving through,” Nancy Ann replied.

  “Excellent.” He took up his stethoscope again and had a listen. “Definitely a rattle, but we want a rattle. It means there’s progress.” He replaced the instrument in his bag and then turned to face her. “Are you ready to head back over to the hotel?”

  “I am, but I’m not sure Mr. Hancock is.” Nancy Ann motioned over to the corner of the parlor, where Timothy had fallen asleep slumped in a chair.

  “I’m sure he’s quite worn out after your escapade last night.” The doctor chuckled. “We’ll let him sleep while I hitch up the sleigh, and then we’ll wake him. He can’t be comfortable like that.”

  “No, I imagine not,” Nancy Ann replied, amused.

  A short time later, the doctor came back to say he was ready, and Nancy Ann stood and stretched. She felt quite a lot stronger, even though her lungs were sore. “Timothy?”

  A soft snore was her only answer.

  She crossed the room and touched his shoulder. “Timothy?”

  He came bolt upright and looked around wildly. “What? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. It’s time for us to go.”

  He blinked a few times and then relaxed. “I’m sorry. I was dreaming about snow monsters or some such thing. Did you say we were leaving?”

  “That’s right. The doctor hitched up the sleigh.”

  “Good, good. Let’s do that.” He stood and stretched, much as Nancy Ann had done, then gathered up his coat and other wraps from the chair where they had been draped.

  Nancy Ann put on all her outer clothing as well, layer upon layer. Then she gave Mrs. Pettigrew a hug. “Thank you so much. You’ve truly been a blessing.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” the woman replied. “It was a pleasure. Now, be sure to come back and see me. You and your young man both.”

  “He’s not my young man,” Nancy Ann protested, but Mrs. Pettigrew silenced her by raising a finger.

  “Mark my words, dear. Mark my words.”

  Nancy Ann was sure her embarrassment was written all over her face when she joined Timothy and the doctor near the door.

  “It’s almost shaping up to be a pleasant winter’s day outside, so we’ll be all right,” Dr. Pettigrew said. “Pull your scarf up over your nose and mouth so you’re not breathing such cold air. As for you, sir, are we taking you home, or to the hotel?”

  “To the hotel, please,” Timothy said. “There’s no one waiting for me at home, and I’d rather be someplace where I feel I can do some good.”

  “Quite right. Well, let’s be on our way.”

  The horse stood patiently just outside, his breath billowing out into the air like plumes of smoke. Nancy Ann’s breath was kept inside her scarf, where it felt clammy. For a moment, she wished it wasn’t necessary, but when she put a hand up to adjust the fabric and felt the chill hit her skin, she was grateful for it after all.

  The snowfall had ceased, they could see quite well all around, and it was an improvement from the day before, but the sky was still gray. What Nancy Ann wouldn’t give for a bit of blue, some color to break up the monotony. She’d never realized how important that was to her until all she could see was dull and bleak.

  ***

  The doctor pulled the sleigh around to the side of the hotel, as the front hadn’t been cleared, and Timothy helped Nancy Ann down from her seat. “Thank you so much for everything, Dr. Pettigrew,” she said, emotion flooding her at the memory of all he’d done. It had been the worst possible time for Dr. Wayment to be out of town, but she was truly grateful for the Pettigrews and their compassion.

  “Not at all, not at all. Don’t say good-bye to me just yet, though—I’m coming in with you to check on my patient.”

  “Oh, of course.” Nancy Ann led the way to the kitchen steps and opened the door to be surprised by what she saw—ropes had been strung from one end of the room to the other, damp laundry hanging all along the line.

  “Nancy Ann! You’re back!” Giselle caught her up in a hug. “We’ve been so worried.”

  “I was snug as a bug at the doctor’s house,” Nancy Ann replied. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, with all these people here, we had to get some washing done,” Giselle replied. “The laundry shed wasn’t a good option for drying the clothes, as it’s so cold out there, so Tom rigged this up for us. I’ve gotten smacked full in the face with a wet tablecloth at least twice now walking through here, but at least it’s better than nothing.”

  Dr. Pettigrew chuckled. “Most creative. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head upstairs, but I wonder if I might reserve a slice of that pie you have cooling on the counter.”

  “Of course.” Giselle gave him a warm smile. “I’ll be certain no one takes it.”

  “And I think I’ll go catch a longer nap,” Timothy said. “If you come up with something I can do, please don’t hesitate to get me.” He disappeared after the doctor.

  Giselle watched him go, and as soon as he was no longer visible, she turned to Nancy Ann, questions all over her face. “Now that the men are gone, tell me everything. Don’t leave a single thing out.”

  Nancy Ann took a seat at the table, ducking around some damp bedsheets to get there. “It was frightening, probably the most frightening thing I’ve ever experienced. Not being able to see, feeling our way . . .” She shook her head at the memory. “I can’t believe how foolish I was, but we couldn’t have asked for a better outcome.”

  Giselle carried two cups of coffee over to the table and joined Nancy Ann. “Oh, wait until you see the baby. He’s the cutest little thing.”

  Nancy Ann coughed before replying, “I can’t wait to see him.”

  “Are you ill?” Giselle looked at her with concern. “Is the doctor treating you?”

  “Yes, apparently I got a little too cold last night. It’s nothing serious.”

  “You’re certain? You’re not going to come down with some deadly strain of pneumonia, are you? Although, that would be rather romantic—dying in a fit of coughing after saving the life of a displaced mother and her infant child.”

  “Now you’re starting to sound like Grace.” Nancy Ann took a sip of her coffee. She’d had nearly all the warm liquid she could take, but it did make her breathing more comfortable. “The doctor’s not concerned, so neither am I. Tell me what’s been going on here.”

  “Well, you know the most exciting part of it. Let’s see. We’ve been making food and serving food and doing laundry—pretty much what we typically do, storm or no storm. Two sisters got into a hair-pulling fight over who got to wear the blue dress, but their mother informs me that’s typical for them as well. Yes, I’d say you had the most fun out of any of us.” She tilted her head to the side. “You need to go to bed—I can tell you’re barely keeping your eyes open.”

  Nancy Ann nodded. “You’re right. Please wake me when it’s time to take down the laundry, and I’ll get started on the ironing.”

  “I’ll do no such thing,
and neither will you. Felicity has stepped in and been a marvelous help, as have a few women from the train, and honestly, you will not be missed except for your friendship. Now off to bed with you.”

  That sounded wonderful. Nancy Ann pushed herself up, using the table as leverage, and walked down the hall after passing through the empty dining room. She was nearly bowled over in the lobby by Grace, who had come running down the stairs. “Hello, Nancy Ann! I’ll talk to you in a moment.” She dashed across the lobby and pounded on Mr. Brody’s office door. “Mr. Brody! We need you!”

  He opened the door immediately and followed her back up the stairs. Nancy Ann followed at a much slower pace, wondering what could possibly be happening.

  When she reached the upper hallway, she saw Mr. Brody hauling a man out of one of the guest rooms by his collar and holding him up against the wall. That was interesting. She didn’t want to interfere, but she badly wanted to know what was going on, so she ducked down the hall and eavesdropped. It wasn’t ladylike, but her curiosity got the better of her.

  “Now, Mr. Henry, you know how I feel about gambling on my property.” Mr. Brody’s voice was low, but firm. “We discussed this last night when you pulled out your deck of cards at the dining room table. And now you’re trying to sneak a game up here, where you think no one will know?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Brody. I just didn’t see the harm in having a little fun.”

  “Oh, but there is harm. I’ve laid down a rule, and I expect that rule to be obeyed. This hotel is a safe place for women and children, and gambling tends to bring out the worst in people. I don’t allow it under regular conditions, and I certainly won’t allow it when tensions are already poised to run high. Now go in there, gather up all the cards, and bring them to me, and you may have them back when you leave.”

  Nancy Ann smiled as she turned to climb the stairs to her room. What she’d told Timothy was right—this was the best place for her to be if she couldn’t live at home.

  She took a peek at Laura and the baby as she walked past the bed where they slept. It was too dark to make out the baby’s features—she supposed she’d have to wait to see what he looked like. She couldn’t wait.