“He’s awfully powerful,” Daisy said.
“So is the newspaper,” Ford countered.
“Bessie will come after me. She knows I know what’s going on.”
“That’s why you wouldn’t leave when Dr. Morgan first doctored you, isn’t it?”
“Bessie swore they’d kill me if I left or told.”
“Don’t worry. Plenty will happen but none of it to you.”
Daisy shuddered. “Bessie’s horrible. She’s purely evil.”
“He’s worse,” Ford retorted, making Letty want to shake him by the ears. Who were they discussing? And what had “he” done?
“He hit me, you know. With that cow stick of his.”
Medford! Letty knew only one such obscenity, and the surgeon owned it. Now, if the two in the kitchen would just blurt out what Medford and Bessie were up to—
No. A chill shot down her spine. It couldn’t be. Dread sank into Letty’s stomach and filled her heart. Daisy and Bessie’s argument had been about the Patterson children. Now the girl had told Ford something about Medford and Bessie, something dangerous.
Letty thought back to the day Slosh died. Matters began to grow clearer. Bessie and Medford had something to do with Slosh’s death, and she meant to find out what.
She would need Eric’s help, but in order to put a stop to Bessie and Medford’s crimes, he would have to confront the vice that had destroyed his family. Considering what she’d be asking of him, she hesitated.
“Father God,” she whispered, “please sustain me. Give me the words and soften Eric’s heart to receive them.” She paused and shivered. “Lord, he needs You. Please draw him back to Your loving arms, and please, please, don’t let me be a stumbling block to him. He needs to truly understand that Your Son already paid the price for his sins if he’ll only accept that ultimate sacrifice on his behalf.”
Opting for a noisy entrance, she marched into the kitchen, making Ford and Daisy blush and jump apart. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but you both know how important this is. Daisy, tell me every last detail. Ford, please fetch Eric.”
Four eyes focused on Letty. “Come, now,” she urged. “We must get to work.”
Like knitting at the mercy of a cat’s claws, the story unraveled before Letty. Dr. Medford had set Bessie in “business” shortly after his arrival in town. Two years later, he had an exclusive claim on her attentions, while his wife languished at home.
When Hart hit the new, rich silver vein last year, the surgeon tried to buy into the boom. Achieving no results through legitimate means, he’d sought out the shady element he’d met at Bessie’s, allying himself with the Swartleys. The three men had agreed on a plan: Medford wanted silver but didn’t care to soil his hands with the work required to extract it. The brothers wanted money to sustain their vices and had no trouble carrying out his dirty work, that of the mining operation as well as the swindling of unfortunate folks.
As Eric had suspected, power and money backed the Swartleys—Dr. Medford’s power and money.
As soon as Ford and Eric arrived, they set their plan in motion. Daisy shared details of Bessie’s and Medford’s routines, and Eric and Ford, with Daisy in tow, soon went for the newspaper’s camera. Then they headed to the brothel.
“I may not be able to end prostitution altogether,” Eric said, “but I can and will stop this criminal wave.”
Before leaving, Eric admonished Letty to stay safely at home.
His words only served to reinforce her determination. Once they left, Letty ran to the alley behind Bessie’s Barn. Again seeking the cover of the shrub, she came right up to the house and was glad for the open windows on the second floor.
Inside, she heard footsteps followed by a knock.
“Yeah?” Bessie called.
“Can I come back to work?” Daisy asked.
“No more high’n mighty lady doctor for ya, eh?”
“I need the money.”
“Ya gonna sass me again?”
“I have to work for you, don’t I?”
Bessie laughed. “Yeah, and ya know now better’n to go spoutin’ off at me.”
“I understand.”
“ ’Spose ya brought a man with ya.”
“He’s waiting for me.”
“Git goin’, then.”
“Mm-hmm.”
The door closed, footsteps crossed the width of the building, and another door opened. “He’s with her,” Daisy said. “Smirking and drinking—”
The closing door cut off Daisy’s words, but Letty didn’t have long to wait. Her heart sped up, and she bit her lip.
She ran to the front, determined to miss nothing. And she heard plenty: Medford howled, Bessie wailed, Eric yelled, and Ford answered in kind.
After what felt like hours but could only have been ten or fifteen minutes at most, Daisy parted the swinging doors to the sordid emporium. Bessie followed, hands tied with red and black suspenders, Ford prodding her on. She wore a magenta peignoir trimmed in exotic white feathers that quivered with her every step. Her brassy hair stood on end, giving her the oddest look of lunacy.
Behind her came Medford, missing his suspenders. The surgeon’s hands were also tied, but, lacking his suspenders, he had to clutch the waist of his trousers so as not to parade in yet more scandalous attire.
“What are you doing here?!” Eric roared the moment he saw Letty.
She lifted her chin. “I have every right to help bring these two to justice.” Not to mention satisfy her curiosity.
Shame had brought on Medford’s confession, and after Medford implicated her in the scheme, Bessie crumbled, admitting her complicity. With his hold tight on Medford’s upper arm, Eric led the strange company to the sherrif’s office, pausing every so often to give the surgeon the chance to hitch up his pants. Bessie’s ludicrous feathers fluttered in the breeze, but at least she was covered. With an arm around Daisy’s waist, Ford kept the madam in line, and Letty brought up the rear of the parade.
She was glad to have played a part—no matter how small—in exposing the culprits.
After the sheriff took their statements, Eric and Letty returned to Eric’s office. In the lamplight, she noted the strain on his face. He must have relived every moment of his parents’ tragedies.
“You have all my respect and admiration,” she said. “I don’t know if I could have faced what you did tonight.”
His jaw tightened and his mustache twitched. “I had no choice, did I?”
“Of course you did. You could have said no.”
“I had to take care of this matter, especially since you seemed intent on doing so yourself.” The corners of his mustache danced. “Didn’t do so well there, did I?”
Letty had the grace to blush. “You know me well enough. Did you really think you could keep me away?”
“I can always hope for change in your mule-headed ways.”
“Me? Mule headed? How about you?”
A weary smile lightened his demeanor. “Merely determined, Dr. Morgan.”
“Pshaw! Stubborn and ornery.” Letty paused. “I meant what I said. I admire your courage and your strength of character. You confronted your ghosts head on.”
She hoped he’d leaned on God for that strength, but she doubted he had.
“Oh, I don’t know, but I thank you for the kind words.” He blew out the lamps and held the door for her. “May I see you home?”
“Of course.”
In the following days, Hartville went into shock followed by a voracious uproar. The outcry against the bordellos reached fever pitch. Although Medford’s swindles no longer posed a threat, Letty’s insistence in helping the youngsters in the cathouses became, if possible, less popular than before. Dr. Medford’s vehemence had done its damage before his downfall, and her presence outside Bessie’s place at the time of his comeuppance had done her no good.
Eric had been right. Her brush with the squalid side of Hartville was having a dreadful effect on her life.
Even though Letty’s motives were pure, her career was now in shambles.
While Eric became the town’s hero, Letty went down to four patients: Mrs. Stone, who was in excellent health; Mim, who’d recovered and needed no medical care; Daisy, who, now that her romance with Ford was in full bloom, insisted that when the time came someday, she wanted Letty at her birthings; and Randy, who, with her robust health and ever-increasing middle, remained loyal.
Letty began to wander through her clinic, cleaning surfaces that already gleamed, folding linens creased to perfection, scrubbing each glass she used for a drink of water. She even missed her chickens.
Although she longed for the busyness of her medical practice, that didn’t compare to the aching emptiness in her heart. She missed Eric. She missed seeing his mustache quirk up on one side before a smile bowed the entire hairy fringe. She missed his warm touch, his tender kisses.
She sat at the kitchen table and thought back on her life. As her mother had predicted, Letty was alone. Eric and the Pattersons were at the ranch, Douglas still hoping to find a family who would adopt all five. Letty had nothing to show besides a second failed medical practice and a broken heart.
She tried to help with the preparations for Hartville’s Silver Celebration, but the women at the fellowship hall snubbed her, and after several determined attempts, their rejection won out. Letty stopped offering her help in order to spare Adele Stone further embarrassment.
So she sat at home alone, with a heart so empty, so torn, that even Dr. Morgan didn’t know how to mend her own wounds. A tear fell on the tabletop.
“Lord God, will I ever erase the memories?” she whispered.
How could Eric turn his back on all they might have? Was a ghost more satisfying than her love?
She gave in to the tears she’d fought so hard. Rivers flowed down her face. Cries breached her throat, burning it with sadness.
“Father, was I so wrong to want to help those who needed help? To love a man?”
The silence held no answers, so she asked the question she most feared. “Jesus, are you asking me to surrender everything? Everything?”
Would she lose all she’d once had?
An acrid laugh escaped her lips. Was she deluding herself in thinking she’d had Eric’s feelings to lose? How could she know?
The silence grew deafening.
She clenched her fists, anger joining her anguish. She had to know. Somehow she had to learn if for a fraction of time God had given her the desires of her heart.
The emptiness continued. God again withheld His response.
Well, then, she knew just how to find the answers to her questions. She knew where to find Eric.
Her preparations were brief. Soon she arrived at Randy’s elegant brick home, needing a favor she was sure her friend would grant. Moments after voicing her request, the two women climbed into Letty’s buggy and headed for Eric’s spread. As Randy chattered with what seemed forced brightness, Letty wondered what her friend thought of her boldness.
Then she decided it didn’t matter what Randy or anyone else thought. She had to know what Eric felt for her, if her imagination had conjured the images of . . . love. Yes, love.
At the ranch, Letty helped Randy cautiously exit the conveyance. The expectant mother went to find the children as Letty went to find the man who’d captured her heart.
She found him in the barn, wearing ancient brown trousers and a worn flannel shirt, pitching forkfuls of hay into a stall. His back muscles played under his shirt, maintaining the smooth rhythm of his work.
The sight of him strengthened her resolve. She longed to wrap her arms around his waist, to lay her head on his chest, and she needed to know if she’d ever have that right.
“Very busy today?” she asked.
He stopped. “Not especially. I’m sick of lying around, and my leg needs exercise. I can’t afford to let the muscle freeze up.”
Letty nodded and twisted her hands at her waist. This barn bore so many memories. It was quite fitting to find Eric here today.
“I wondered,” she began, butterflies flitting in her middle, “if you aren’t too busy, that is, if you would care to share my picnic? To celebrate the end of Dr. Medford, Bessie, and the Swartleys’ misdeeds.”
Eric studied her, his face unreadable. “That would be a pleasure,” he finally said, “especially on a warm spring day like today.”
Letty blushed, remembering her plans. “That’s what I thought. I heard of a spot—”
“I know just the place. Trust me.”
Eric hung the pitchfork from a hook on the wall. He strode to a tin bucket in the far corner and scrubbed his hands with the yellow soap by the pail. After drying his hands on a red and white piece of towel, he shook the rag and hung it on another hook. He then gestured for Letty to follow him.
“Wait!” she cried. “The basket. We mustn’t forget our food.”
Eric’s chuckle encouraged her. “So true,” he said, picking up the hamper Amelia had once purloined.
They left in companionable silence. Every so often Eric pointed out something of interest, items unnoticed by Letty with her thoughts so intent on her secret purpose.
After a short while, they came to a willow at the edge of Silver Creek. A few feet away, a group of shrubs, silvery in color, followed the water’s trace. The willow beckoned, offering shade in contrast to the brilliant sunlight.
“It’s lovely,” Letty murmured.
Eric flashed her a smile.
She spread a quilt inside the bower of the willow and set out their feast. A bowl of golden-brown chicken fragranced the breeze. Sliced-potato salad, pickles, and deviled eggs followed. Finally, after uncovering a quartet of biscuits, she withdrew a rare treat: her last jar of strawberry preserves.
“Wonderful,” Eric murmured.
“Mm-hmm,” Letty responded, uncovering the berries. “These are lovely. I brought three jars when I came out west—”
Eric’s expression dried up her words. He glanced from the berries to her mouth, to the berries again, and finally rested his gaze on her lips. Two steps brought him to her side. With one hand he removed the jar from her trembling fingers; the other slipped around her waist.
His kiss was hungry, different from the other kisses they’d shared. It went on as time vanished, rushing wildness to Letty’s heart. And then its flavor changed. It mellowed, gentled, and she felt cherished and loved in a way she’d never known before. Joy and gladness soared through her, and she even thought she heard bells.
Too soon, or so it seemed, Eric pressed a soft touch on her lips and let her go. He smiled tentatively, unusual in the usually forceful man. He sat on the quilt and helped himself to the food.
For the first time since they’d met, he seemed at ease. His brow was smooth, his lips curved in the slightest smile. The creases at the corners weren’t as pronounced, and his breathing sounded even and deep. If nothing else, Letty had just given him the gift of a peaceful time.
But she needed more.
“Eric,” she said when they’d finished their meal.
He lifted his head.
“I need to speak with you. I mean, we have matters to discuss.”
He went through a metamorphosis. He frowned and clenched his jaw, and even his eyes seemed to darken.
Her determination refused to tremble. “This is difficult for me, you understand.” Not daring to meet his gaze, she stared at her fidgety hands. “Our situation can’t continue as it is. I care deeply for you, and I need to know—I need more.”
Eric sighed.
Letty studied a weed next to her foot. She pulled on its stem, and it bobbled precariously. She knew just how that tough little fellow felt. Here she sat, wobbling on the edge of expectation; one word from Eric, and surely she would topple.
“Please stop,” he finally said. “I know what you mean, and I take full responsibility.”
From beneath lowered lashes, Letty saw him stand. A tingle of awareness coursed through
her, a rush of remembered feelings she had no business remembering just then. She looked him in the face and flinched. Eric was in pain. When he spoke, his voice matched his expression.
“I’m a flawed man, yet knowing I should stay away, I let my . . . affection for you defeat my common sense. You deserve a whole man. One who can care for you the way every woman needs.”
Letty stood. “But—”
He held up a hand. “Hear me out, please. I’ve told you my many failures.” He leaned against the willow’s trunk, his arm supporting his forehead in a posture of extreme exhaustion.
His voice came out rough. “After we spoke in the barn that day, I reconsidered the events that led to their deaths. Because of some things you said, I realized Martina was more responsible than I for her death. I began to think perhaps I’d been too hard on myself, and I tried to prove I wasn’t the failure I saw.”
He turned, rested his back against the tree trunk, and closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging. “Then matters went badly for you, and I failed to protect you from the venom of the town. You’re now virtually destitute—”
“No, Eric.” At his look, she bit her bottom lip, determined to hear him out.
A grimace twisted his mustache. “That’s not all. When Mrs. Patterson died and Slosh lost control, I took care of the children. I provided their basic needs. I thought I’d protect them where I’d failed to protect my son. And where did that lead? It led them straight to the loss of their father and their land. I failed them, too.”
Eric moved from the tree, his steps deliberate and heavy. He stopped just beyond its shadow, where a sunbeam kissed his hair with gold. Letty had never loved him more. She also knew he’d never been less hers.
“I can’t offer more than the kisses we’ve shared,” he said, his voice tight, harsh. “Everything in me pushes me to you, but I can’t take a wedding vow again. I can’t promise to love, cherish, and protect. Not you nor any child we might have, and without that certainty, we can have nothing more.”
A vise tightened on Letty’s heart as Eric spoke. She’d lost. She’d taken a reckless gamble and had lost it all. Fleeting images of moments shared, of words spoken, of kisses exchanged went through her head in a vertiginous whirl.
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