“The same age as Corky.”
“Yeah. I would ask Corky to come with me along with Thad, but the ranch doesn’t hire on boys that young anymore. Are you sure your stepfather will approve of Thad leaving?”
Her shoulders stiffened, and she twisted her lips. He already knew none of them liked the stepfather much, but he had to ask. After all, the man was Thad’s guardian.
“I’m certain he won’t mind. Anyway, we were talking about you.”
Actually, he’d rather talk about her. Was there a man in her life? “Not much else to tell.” He was about to ask if she’d ever had any suitors when Miss Lydee called.
“Dinner’s ready.”
Juliette sprang from her chair. “I’ll bring yours in on a tray.”
“I’m ready for it.” Indeed, his stomach was already growling. “Juliette.”
He stopped her at the door. She turned, dark brows hiked. “Yes.”
“While Thad’s gone to talk to Mr. Fitzgerald, would you mind sitting with me and reading a spell?”
“Of course. Do you like Samuel Clemens books?”
“Mark Twain? Yeah. He’s been to the lecture hall at Westerfield. I didn’t get to hear him. I was out on a job, but I’ve read Tom Sawyer.”
“I’ll see what I can find. The boys have a good many of his books.” She took another step.
“Juliette.”
She half turned, a soft smile touching her lips. “Yes?”
“Thank you for everything.” The look in her eyes had him wanting to hurry through the meal and have her sit with him so he could hear that soft golden voice all afternoon.
***
Juliette hoped Jake could eat all of the wonderful chicken stew Miss Lydee had concocted. She’d thrown out Juliette’s experiment with the beef soup, but the tonic was helping. He’d gained a lot of his strength back, though she could tell he was still in pain.
“How many bales did y’all get in this morning?” Thad asked Corky.
For the first time Juliette noticed Corky with elbows on the table, a deep scowl on his thin face.
“I didn’t count,” he mumbled around a mouth full of cornbread.
“Corky, get your elbows off the table. It isn’t polite,” Juliette said, “and please don’t talk with your mouth full.”
He jerked his arms to his sides. “Who cares what I say anyway?”
“Why, we all care what you say, Corky, dear.” Miss Lydee’s tone dripped with enough sweetness to soothe a mad setting hen.
“Is something bothering you, Corky?” Juliette asked, although she already knew. He hated picking cotton at the best of times. That Thad was excused from that chore must have rankled him.
“Thad gets to go with Mr. Jake and be a cowboy. I’m the one who always wanted to be a cowboy. I never intended to stay here on the farm—even when we had one.”
Thad sent a glance to Juliette and when she remained silent, spoke up. “Corky, I told you you could come out to the ranch in a couple of years. You’re not old enough yet.”
Miss Lydee tittered. “I should say not. Besides, who else can protect your sisters? You’ll be the man of the family.”
Corky didn’t enjoy her humor. “I’m too young to be a cowboy, but I’m old enough to be the man of the family? ‘Sides, Harp’s the man of the family. He’s the main reason I want to leave.”
“I doubt Harp will return this time.” Juliette’s remark had all of them staring at her, and she realized her mistake. Annie dropped her spoon and ducked under the table.
Suspicions resurfaced in Juliette’s mind that her sister still feared Harp was alive, though she’d seen him shot. It was possible her mind had blocked that out. Would it help if she assured Annie the horrible man was dead and buried? But maybe it was best Annie remain ignorant of what had happened, assuming she was. “He’s been staying away longer and longer on these gambling trips. I don’t expect him back at all. He has nothing else to sell here, and he certainly doesn’t want the responsibility of a family.”
Corky scowled over his plate.
“Bye-the-bye, Juliette,” Miss Lydee said, “your kitchen garden is getting out of hand. The peppers are ready to start harvesting, and way too many tomatoes will be ripe next week for the family to eat. While I’m here, I’d be glad to help you can your vegetables.”
“Thank you, Miss Lydee. That’s so kind of you. I was worried Annie and I wouldn’t have enough time, and I hate to lose summer vegetables.”
“Got to shell those beans and peas too. I’ve got three bushels in the barn that’s going to mold,” Thad said.
“I was going to shell while I watched Jake, but he wants me to read to him.” Juliette caught Annie sneaking food to her cat. “Annie, I want you to stop playing with the cats and shell this afternoon, you understand?”
Annie didn’t look up, but nodded, whether that meant she’d obey the order or not, Juliette didn’t know.
“Annie and I will shell together, won’t we, dear?” Miss Lydee’s gentle tone forced Annie’s head up. “I’ll tell you all about how Sister and I used to dress up our cats in dolls’ clothes.”
“I’ve got to get back to the fields,” Corky said. “Thank you for a delicious dinner, Miss Lydee.” He threw his napkin on his plate with enough force to indicate his anger still simmered.
Thad watched his brother quit the room. “He’ll be all right once he has time to think about it.” He glanced to Juliette. “Do you want me to get Mr. Jake’s tray?”
Juliette rose. “No, I’ll do it. You’d better get on your way to meet Mr. Fitzgerald. Do you have the papers Jake left for you to take?”
“Already stuffed in Big Red’s saddlebag.”
Juliette trailed him through the house to the parlor where she stopped, and Thad continued out the front door. “Be careful.” The words came automatically, needless, since she knew he was always careful. She’d miss him more than she cared to think about when he left.
And she’d miss Jake.
She found the Mark Twain book missing from the bookshelf and selected Dickens’s David Copperfield. Then made her way to Jake’s room.
He’d finished eating and again had slipped down on the pillows as if exhausted, eyes closed. Maybe asleep.
As she examined his face, his eyes opened and that little grin played on his mouth. She returned his smile and removed the tray from his chest, pleased to find he’d eaten most of the stew.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m feeling fine now that my stomach is full.”
“I couldn’t find any Mark Twain books, but I brought David Copperfield by Dickens. I found it very engaging.”
“I’ve read some Dickens. He’s good, but I found his books rather dark.”
“Yes, they are darker than Twain, but the world is often dark.”
“You’re right about that. Before you start the book, would you get that little Bible out of my saddlebag and read a chapter for me. I promised my boss I’d read a chapter a day, and I’ve gotten behind. He’ll ask me when I get back.”
She scrunched her brows. What an odd order from a boss. She laid the Dickens book aside and went to fetch the Bible. “Is your boss a very religious man?” She had to know. After all, she didn’t want her brother going off to work for some cult-minded people.
He laughed, the first full-throated laugh she’d heard. It was a pleasant sound, chasing out the remaining demons from Harp’s room. Jake caught his breath. “My boss is a believer, but religious? Not hardly. Actually, the request for me to read the Bible came from Carianne. Now she’s very religious.” He twisted his mouth. “No, I take that back. She’s not religious at all, but she is godly. There’s a difference.”
She opened the little black book to the place he’d marked with its thin ribbon and began to read from Luke Twelve. Warnings from Christ. Parables to live by. Familiar words to her.
Before Grace married Harp, they’d attended Sunday school and Church every Sunday. Gradually, Harp had found places to
go or things to do to keep them away. She hadn’t noticed it at the time, but now realized he was actually separating them from their neighbors as much as from God.
And he’d succeeded.
It was a long chapter. Her mouth grew dry near the end. “When you go with your adversary to the magistrate, make every effort along the way to settle with him, lest he drag you to the judge, the judge deliver you to the officer, and the officer throw you into prison.”
She closed the book and found Jake studying her. Forcing a smile, she got to her feet. “I need some water before I start on Mr. Dickens.”
“It’s simple enough, isn’t it? It’s hard not to understand what Jesus meant. If you know what’s right or wrong on earth, you should expect to be judged by the same rules in heaven.”
She didn’t want to discuss right and wrong at the moment or what Jesus thought of it. It was an argument that raged in her mind since killing Harp. The killing was an accident, but who would believe her. The burying and the lies that followed were wrong, but wrongs she couldn’t repent of.
Every time she looked at Annie, she wanted to dig Harp up and kill him all over again.
She returned to the chair and opened David Copperfield. “Chapter One. I have a new father.”
“Juliette,” Jake called her attention away from the page. “Could we just talk?”
She snapped the book closed, more than glad to do so. She’d forgotten how much she hated the beginning of the novel because David Copperfield’s step-father reminded her of Harp. “What do you want to talk about?”
“You could all come with me when I return to Sollano.”
The book slipped from her hands. “What?”
“Both boys want to be cowboys. Carianne is looking for a librarian, and you have experience. I gather none of you are fond of your step-father.”
The shock had worn off enough for her to control her voice. “All that’s true, but it’s impossible.”
“Why impossible? It’s colder in Nebraska. The wind blows more. But you’d get used to it. You don’t have a…beau…waiting in the shadows, do you?”
“No, but there’s…Annie.”
“Juliette.” Miss Lydee rescued her from explaining. “Where do you keep your canning supplies?”
“I’ll be right there.” She slowly rose. “I think you should get some rest before your meeting with Mr. Fitzgerald.”
She made it to the doorway before he stopped her. “You’ll think about it, won’t you, Juliette?”
She didn’t bother with answering. He couldn’t be serious, but she noted he enjoyed saying her name and said it often.
And she was beginning to like the way it sounded on his voice.
Chapter 8
Miss Lydee hummed an old camp meeting song as she puttered around the kitchen. She was the happiest person Juliette had ever known, and she brought a shaft of sunshine to their drab lives. Maybe the life of an old maid wasn’t so bad, after all.
She removed the lid from the canning pot, and steam plumed, adding to the heat of the stifling kitchen. “I think this batch is done.” She fanned her flushed face with her apron.
“It’s the last of the okra for a while.” Miss Lydee rose from the table where she’d settled to cut up the summer squash for supper. “Do you know where I left the paring knife?”
Juliette pointed. “It’s over by the dry sink.”
“So it is. Just where I put it. But I’d lose my sense if I had any.” Miss Lydee snickered as she went to get the knife. “I don’t think you have enough jars for the pepper relish, dear.”
“There are more in the attic storage room. I’ll get Thad to bring them down as soon as he gets out.” Thad was in there with the doctor, tending Jake.
Miss Lydee wiped the table with a crocheted hand towel before returning to the squash. “They’ve been in there a long time. Do you think the doctor will stay for supper?”
Juliette glanced to the door as if willing Thad to appear and tell her Jake was all right. She hadn’t heard any yells, so assumed Dr. Kane didn’t have to reset the bones. “I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to ask.”
Jake had done so well yesterday despite the long meeting with Mr. Fitzgerald. She hadn’t been present, but according to Thad, Mr. Fitzgerald left excited that Mrs. Cason’s charity would sponsor a half dozen ex-union soldiers, Nebraska farmers whose farms were failing. They would come down immediately and start clearing the land allotted to them.
Just the thought of those farmers coming down here for a new start had her thinking of moving to Nebraska. She and the whole family needed a new start. In fact, ever since Jake had suggested they leave with him, the idea hadn’t left her mind.
What was there to hold her here anyway? She had a contract with the county library, but they could get a replacement easily enough. But could she perform the duties expected of her for Mrs. Cason? Jake said that library was three stories tall and contained reading rooms and a lecture hall.
Juliette couldn’t even imagine how many books a library like that would hold. But he also said the population of the little prairie town was sparse. Why was such a large library needed?
She’d wanted to discuss the particulars with Jake last night, but instead she’d found the copy of Tom Sawyer and had read to him instead. He’d interrupted every other page with some outlandish prank he’d pulled as a boy, and threw in a bit of flirtation along the way. Something she was getting used to and finding more pleasing.
The squeak of the door to Jake’s room prompted her to throw her towel on the table and fly to the hall. Dr. Kane was putting his hat on. His smile sent a wave of relief through her. “Is the patient doing well, doctor?”
“Indeed. Better than I expected. He wants to get up, but I absolutely forbid it until next week.
She hiked her chin and ordered her voice to answer as a nurse would. “I’m pleased he’s faring better. Rest assured, I won’t allow him to overdo it. Are there any other instructions?” She led the way to the parlor.
“I cleaned the wounds with carbolic acid again and didn’t see any sign of infection, so I finished closing them.”
She couldn’t keep the smile off her face at that news. No infection meant he wouldn’t lose his leg. “Then he should fully recover.”
“It’s too early to tell. Infection could still set in, but I’m confident the bones will knit straight.” Dr. Kane shifted the satchel to the other hand and started for the front door. “Let’s pray the young man recovers fully, and if he does, much of the credit belongs to you.”
“Thank you, but you and Thad did more…and, Miss Lydee’s food.”
Dr. Kane laughed. “Good food builds up one’s strength better than all my tonics. I’ll return next week unless there’s a change for the worse. In that case, send Thad for me.” He ducked out onto the porch.
She waved to the doctor and closed the door. Indeed, Jake was fast gaining strength, and it became harder to keep him in bed. Only her constant presence—reading, talking, just listening—kept him compliant. That was her excuse, anyway. She should be helping Miss Lydee with the canning, but she called on Thad to run errands while she sat with Jake.
“I’ve always found one’s frame of mind helps heal better than anything, and we all know you keep Jake occupied better than any of us.” Miss Lydee stood at the stove, stirring the butter beans. “He’s sweet on you, all right. Have you decided to go with him when he finishes his job here?”
Sweet on her? That was hard to tell. He was probably the type of man who enjoyed female company regardless of who the female was. He’d already related how he’d managed to escape matrimony with several ladies.
“I doubt it. I can’t just abandon the house, and there’s Annie to consider. If Dr. Kane finds someone who can help her—” She let the thought hang. Even if a doctor could be found, how was she to pay him?
“Well, if you do stay on after Jake leaves, I’ll stay long enough for you to get your canning done.”
She hugged Mi
ss Lydee. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry I’ve left most of it for you, and I want you to take half of it to stock your café. Thad won’t be here this winter, and he’s our biggest eater.”
Miss Lydee squeezed her arms. “That he is. I hope they have plenty to eat up there in Nebraska.”
“From the looks of Jake, I’d say they do.”
Juliette gazed out the window. Thad was working to repair a wagon wheel. The thunderstorm from earlier had left the tree leaves still dripping, and steam rose from the heat of the day. The dog days of summer had arrived, and they could expect an afternoon shower almost every day. Corky wouldn’t be able to work in the fields but half-days.
And what would they do without Thad? Suddenly, it hit her. She was going to miss her brother in more ways than one. They’d miss his income, small though it was. But she couldn’t stand in the way of his dreams. She’d let her dreams fall into dust first.
“I think I’ll check on Jake. He complained about his leg after dinner, and I gave him some laudanum.” He’d fallen asleep as he usually did after taking the drug.
“If his leg is paining him anew, maybe that’s a sign it’s healing,” Miss Lydee said. “My sainted mama used to say, if your sore hurt, it was a sign it was healing.” She chuckled. “Or was that, if the sore was itching, it was healing. Well either way, Mama always looked on the bright side of things.”
Juliette smothered a laugh and held her smile in place until she reached Jake’s room. There it died.
Jake lay flat, hair plastered to his head, breathing labored.
Her heart jumped to her throat as she flew across the room and touched his forehead. She jerked her hand back. Might as well have touched a hot stove. He was burning up.
Escaped (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 4) Page 6