Magic in Her Eyes

by Donna Dalton

  Her heart shriveled. “Leave? Where are you going?”

  “A few months ago, I requested a transfer to another post. That reassignment could be granted any day now. So what do you say? Will you let me call on you in the short time we have left?”

  Everything inside her screamed yes, but her answer had to be no. Her gift would be a huge obstacle, not only to his career, but for her as well. He would want children, and she couldn’t take the chance of passing the family curse to a daughter. It would be a chasm neither of them could span.

  He stood there, waiting for her answer, his expression expectant like a child eyeing a festively wrapped gift sitting under a Christmas tree. The last thing she wanted was to crush his spirit. She would just have to let him down with softly couched words.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea, Preston. There are just too many uncertainties right now with the burning of the orphanage and worry over the renegades.”

  He shook his head. “You may not have to worry about the renegades any longer. A patrol arrived earlier this morning. They captured a band of Indians believed to be responsible for the recent raids.”

  “The renegades have been captured? Why, that’s wonderful news.”

  “Wonderful only if they are proven to be the culprits.” Skepticism spiked his tone.

  “What makes you doubt they are the ones?”

  “They were apprehended without a fight a few miles from the burning Bowen homestead last night. Why would they give up so easily if they were guilty?”

  “Perhaps they realized fighting would be futile.”

  His shoulders went up in a shrug. “Perhaps. But Chief Red Wing assured me this scouting party was only searching for the real renegades.”

  “People are known to twist the truth when it suits their needs.” Disgust churned inside her. She was no better. She’d been doing the exact same thing with her secrets.

  She snatched up a piece of laundry to hang on the line. It was a pair of her bloomers—the frilly ones Preston had inadvertently seen her wearing days ago when he burst into the jailhouse. Heat climbed in her neck and burned in her ears at the reminder of that encounter. She dropped bloomers back into the basket as if they were on fire.

  “Um…so how does Jana figure in all this?”

  “I’m getting to that. First, with the capture of the renegades, we’ll need the jailhouse back. You and children will have to move out.”

  With all the recent turmoil, she hadn’t had a chance to search for another place to stay. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of her burden. “This is all so sudden. Where will we go?”

  “No need to worry. I’ve spoken with several respectable families. Each of them has agreed to take in one or two of the children until you can find other accommodations.”

  No. No. No. She would not allow the children to be divvied up like leftovers. “I won’t separate the children. They’ve been through so much already.”

  “There’s no other choice, Meredith.”

  There were always other choices…some not as agreeable as others, but they had to be considered. A grasshopper vaulted onto her arm. She brushed it off with a flick of her hand. If only she could sweep away her problems as effortlessly.

  “Jana offered to let us stay at her place. We can move in with her.”

  “That brings up what I wanted to tell you about her. Major Allen spoke with his wife and her lady friends. He convinced them to end their hostilities against you and the children. They agreed but insisted you must cease any association with Mrs. Valder.”

  She fisted her hand around the clothes pin. “So you want me to ignore my convictions and surrender to their narrow-minded demands.”

  “If you want the persecutions to stop, then yes. You will have to abide by their demands. It’s for the best, Meredith. As you said, the children have suffered enough. Don’t let the stress of being homeless be compounded by tension with the townsfolk.”

  The air went out of her. He was right. Staying with Jana would only make matters worse. She was no Socrates, but it didn’t take a brilliant mind to grasp that she needed to make wise decisions concerning the children’s welfare.

  She dropped the clothes pin into the pail. “Tell me the names of these people and what you know about them. I want to learn everything before I place any of the children in their care.”

  Chapter Ten

  Preston loaded the last of the luggage onto the wagon—two trunks, four satchels, and a small crate of toys. The Seaton House evacuees had amassed quite a collection during their stay at the fort. Folks had been generous…well, up until the incident at the mess hall. Thanks to Major Allen, all that ugliness about witches and burnings at the stake was water under the bridge, and with proper diligence, would never surface again.

  The children watched from the jailhouse steps. Living in less than optimal conditions didn’t appear to have caused them too much hardship. Although subdued, they looked healthy and well fed. They could handle being separated from each other for a few months. They were a lot stronger than Meredith gave them credit for.

  Despite being forced into their unfamiliar world, he was glad for the experience. Children weren’t so bad. They were just miniature recruits, requiring patience and guidance—more of the former than the later. Their unfiltered outlook on life made him look forward to having his own children. He might not be the best father in the world, but with Meredith by his side, he would damn sure try.

  Meredith would be a perfect mother. What he once considered willfulness, he now knew to be uncompromising protectiveness. After the dust settled, he would try again to convince her to let him call on her. That night in his tent, he’d let lust overpower his good sense. He would take things slower, court her as she deserved, and when the time was right, ask her to be his wife. He wasn’t going to let her slip away. Not while he had a chance at something wonderful.

  She walked toward the wagon, herding the children ahead of her. Her eyes were sad and needful, a wounded bird seeking shelter. He would be her refuge.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She sighed and nodded. “I suppose so.”

  “Everything will work out just fine. Have a little faith.”

  Her lips turned up in a weak attempt at a smile. “You sound like Aunt Mildred.”

  He wanted to kiss away her bleakness. With the orphans looking on, he cupped her elbow instead. “She would want you to be strong. For the children…and for yourself.”

  “You’re right; she would want that.” She motioned to the wagon. “Go on, children, get in. We don’t want to hold up Lieutenant Booth any longer than necessary.”

  As the children lined up to board the wagon, she glanced at the jailhouse. Her pretty mouth dipped into a frown. “Where is Robbie? I sent him to get Bessy. He should have returned by now.”

  Why wasn’t he surprised? “I’ll go get the boy,” he said.

  For all Meredith’s loving goodness, she just didn’t have the firm hand needed to guide young boys into manhood. He’d do his best to fill that void during the time he had left at Fort Dent, though as an only child and tutored at home, he didn’t have any real experience to draw on. He’d just have to rely on the leadership training drilled into him at West Point. It had served him well thus far.

  Twenty yards beyond the jailhouse, the boy stood beside the grazing cow, hands waving and head bobbing. He appeared to be having a one-sided conversation with the animal. Some might call him odd. Some had labeled him a witch. Anger stomped inside him. How could anyone hurt such an innocent? There was nothing wrong with play-acting. Hell, he’d done the same thing as a youngster, using sticks for guns and trees for bank robbers—on the rare occasions his father allowed him time away from his studies.

  “You there, Robbie,” he called out.

  The boy turned. “Yes, Lieutenant Booth?”

  “You were supposed to bring that cow to the wagon ten minutes ago. Everyone is ready to leave.”

  “Sorry, sir. Bessy
wanted a bite to eat before we left.”

  “Tell her she can eat her fill at her new home in the town stable.” Claude Gunderson had agreed to house the animal at his livery until a new orphanage could be built. He had a passel of youngsters and could use the milk.

  Robbie peered up at him, his expression puzzled. “You know I can talk to animals?”

  “You have a way with them, there’s no denying that.”

  “Do you talk to them?”

  He leaned over and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but I have been known to discuss thorny issues with my horse. It helps me sort things out in my head.”

  “Does he answer you?”

  “Not in so many words. But he has grunted an answer a time or two.”

  Amusement danced in the boy’s eyes. “I like you, Lieutenant. I don’t care what the others say.” He tugged the cow’s lead rope. “C’mon, Bessy. It’s time to go.”

  An odd feeling settled over him, like the warmth of a wool blanket on a cold winter’s night. His father was wrong. Children could be seen and heard. All you had to do was open up to them, see things from their perspective. The result was quite rewarding.

  He trailed behind the boy to make sure no other distraction delayed their departure. He wanted to be well on the way before the captured Indians arrived. He didn’t want the sight of them upsetting the little ones or Meredith.

  Robbie twisted his head around. “You’re sweet on Miss Talbot, ain’t you?”

  Was the boy a mind-reader? “She’s a special lady.”

  “Lily says she’s your soul mate. Whatever that means.”

  Indeed. “You just focus on leading that cow to the wagon. We’re already late leaving as it is.”

  As they rounded the jailhouse, an approaching parade caught his eye. Five Indians, hands bound and feet hobbled, were being escorted by a four-man detail. Damn. He was too late.

  “Are those the renegades?” the boy asked.

  “It appears so.”

  The sullen captives trudged past, heads held high, gazes focused on the jailhouse…their home for the foreseeable future.

  Robbie frowned and looked up at him. “Bessy says they aren’t the ones, Lieutenant.”

  “Aren’t the ones what?”

  “The ones that attacked Seaton House. Bessy got a good look at them before she ran off into the woods. Those aren’t the Indians she saw.”

  The boy sure did have some imagination. Perhaps one day, he’d be a writer of fantasy stories. He’d be good at it.

  Meredith and the other children sat quietly in the back of the wagon, eyeing the renegades. They didn’t appear to be distressed by the sight…more curious than anything. One of the younger girls was up on her knees and waving to them. The boy Gabe leaned over the side, trying to get a better view. Any farther, and he’d topple onto his head.

  Adding his own brand of absurdity to the spectacle, Agent Finley rode up and dismounted. He strode to the wagon and doffed his hat. “Good-day, Miss Talbot. I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you and the children would be gone by now.”

  Preston grunted under his breath. So did he.

  “Good-day to you, Mr. Finley,” Meredith replied. “I’m afraid we took longer than anticipated with our packing and delayed Lieutenant Booth. We were just about to leave.”

  “I hope the sight of these heathens doesn’t upset you or the children. Such nasty, violent creatures.”

  Finley’s oily tone and crass words left him feeling the need for a bath. Preston fixed the agent with a glare. For all the good that did. The man only sidled closer to the back of the wagon and to Meredith.

  “They don’t appear to be very menacing,” Meredith said. “All shackled and guarded by armed soldiers. One has a horrible scar on his cheek. If anything, I feel sorry for them.”

  Finley clucked. “You shouldn’t feel the least bit sorry for them. They are vicious barbarians. If they weren’t shackled, they could easily break free and cause all sorts of mayhem.”

  Now wasn’t that a pretty picture. Finley sure knew how to put women and children at ease. “Step aside, Mr. Finley,” he barked. “We need to be on our way.”

  The agent ignored him and remained rooted like a bad mushroom. “I’m sorry you had to be ousted from the jailhouse, Miss Talbot. Have you found homes for the children? I’d be happy to watch over one or two if need be.”

  Like hell he would. “The children have all been placed.” Preston held out a hand. “Give me that lead, Robbie. I’ll take care of securing Bessy. You hop in with the others.”

  The boy handed him the rope and climbed into the wagon. Preston tugged the cow closer. Finley had to scuttle sideways to avoid being trampled. It would serve the intrusive bugger right if he got a few crushed toes. Shouldn’t be sticking his feet or his nose where they didn’t belong.

  Robbie settled beside Meredith and leaned over to whisper in her ear. A frown creased her pretty face. Whatever the boy said, it didn’t sit well.

  Finley edged closer. “What’s that, young man? What did you say that cow told you?”

  Robbie ducked his head. “Nuthing.”

  “Can you talk to other animals, too? What about birds? I had a cousin who could recall everything he’d ever read. Word for word. Said it stayed in his memory like a photograph.”

  Meredith’s mouth sagged, and her eyes widened to the size of a robin’s egg. Finley’s comments were even less appetizing than the boy’s. Damn the man. A rock had more common sense.

  Preston secured a taut knot in the rope. Too bad he couldn’t wrap the thing around Finley’s neck. “The boy is just repeating what he overheard Mr. Hoggard say during his delirious ramblings. Nothing more.”

  “Is that so?” The agent reached over the side, his hand settling like a talon on Robbie’s shoulder. “I’m afraid your cow has it all wrong, young man. Those are the renegades that attacked Seaton House, aren’t they Mr. Hoggard?”

  The color retreated from Hoggard’s face. He glanced at the Indians, and then back to Finley. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “That’s right. Those are the renegades.”

  Warning bells clanged in Preston’s head. There was something going on between Finley and Hoggard—something that smelled like a fly-blown carcass.

  ****

  The wagon rattled through town, the bed emptier than it had been an hour ago. Her stomach churned around breakfast. She had promised to look after the children—to keep them safe. Yet here she was delivering each of them right into the snapping jaws of danger.

  Before leaving the fort, she’d given each of them a trinket from her treasure box, items from her past that held loving memories. Like the wooden pony Charles had carved for her. And the tortoise shell comb her father had presented her on her sixth birthday. She cherished those little baubles. She could only hope they gave the children some measure of solace during this difficult separation.

  Lily and Maddie had been dropped off at Major Allen’s quarters. Preston’s commander had insisted on housing two of the older children, and since he had been instrumental in quelling the hostilities, she couldn’t very well refuse his offer. Mrs. Allen had been uncharacteristically quiet and non-confrontational during the exchange. Meredith’s only consolation was knowing the girls would be able to lean on one another if their stay became strained.

  Next had been Bessy at the stable. Poor Robbie had been so distraught. He started sobbing from the moment they arrived. Preston had to pry the boy’s arms from the animal’s neck. He wasn’t harsh with Robbie, just matter of fact. Told him he could visit Bessy whenever he wanted, and that they’d all be back together soon. If only she had his confidence. Perhaps she wouldn’t be leaving a piece of her heart behind with each delivery.

  Nel had been left with the banker and his wife. The older and wiser girl had faced plenty of strife over the years and had emerged stronger for it. She should be able to deal with any difficulties.

  Gabe and Sally were dropped at the mayor’s r
esidence. The Woods were pleasant enough, but something didn’t feel right about the pair. She couldn’t put her finger on what made her uneasy. Maybe it was the odd gleam in Alvena’s eyes, or the quirk to her mouth as if she’d eaten something distasteful when told Sally didn’t talk. Gabe would look after his sister, but who would look after Gabe? He had a knack for finding trouble. She’d visit as often as she could and hopefully keep him on the straight and narrow.

  The elderly couple who ran the feed store had invited Mr. Hoggard to stay with them. Meredith envisioned cozy nights of checkers, chatting about days gone by, and warming old bones by the fire. Joseph would recover nicely in such a setting. It was the only delivery that soothed her sorrow instead of making it worse.

  That left Robbie and Becky. They were to stay with Dr. Troutman and his wife, an older couple whose children had left the nest years ago. Having the twins living with a physician ought to ease her mind. Not to mention Suzanna Troutman had been quite welcoming at Major Allen’s dinner party. But those positives did little to lessen her worry. The twins were so young and vulnerable. They didn’t understand why their lives had to be plagued with such upheaval and misery. She could barely fathom it herself.

  “Here we are.” Preston reined the mules to a stop in front of a building midway down the street. The place looked well kempt, the wall boards painted and gleaming; the door decorated with a ribbon-festooned wreath. Bright yellow curtains adorned the front window, and the glass shimmered from a fresh polishing. Surely anyone who took such loving care of their home would be just as attentive of their guests.

  A soft sob carried from the back of the wagon. She turned and her heart sank further. Little Becky’s bottom lip quivered, and her eyes glistened with tears. So miserable and forlorn. She hated what this separation was doing to them.

  “Can’t we stay with you, Miss Talbot? Please?”

  Anguish made her head spin. She gripped the edge of the wagon seat for support and swallowed back a sob. “I wish you could, Becky. But, there’s only room for me and Anna and Mrs. Clement at the church rectory. You’ll be just fine with Doctor and Mrs. Troutman.”