by Anna Schmidt
“Thank you, ma’am,” Nick murmured, warming his hands on the cup without drinking any.
“I simply don’t understand what Grace was doing there,” Miss Kaufmann said. “How did she even know of that place? You don’t think Mr. Perkins—”
“We all think that, Bonnie,” Aidan said. “I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but in the case of Jasper Perkins, we’ve certainly all heard rumors.”
It was the first time Nick had ever heard anyone refer to the head waitress by her given name. It softened her usually stern demeanor, and he realized she was close to tears.
“Perkins tricked her,” he said. “She thought she was coming to meet me.”
“You? In that place?” Bonnie Kaufmann pursed her lips with disapproval. “Really, Nick, I thought better of you.”
He studied the burns beginning to blister on his hands. “We love each other,” he said softly.
“Even so.”
Nick was close to announcing that he and Grace were married and he would meet her anywhere he damned well pleased when the doctor emerged from the examining room.
“She inhaled a lot of smoke,” he said, “so it will take some time for her lungs to clear. Once they do, I can better assess any permanent damage.”
Nick was on his feet, his eyes riveted on Doc Waters. “You’re saying she might not—”
“I’m saying nothing of the sort.” He glanced at Aidan and Miss K. “However, it might be best to contact her family.”
“I’m her family,” Nick blurted.
The room went quiet, and everyone’s attention was on him. There was no reason now to continue hiding the fact that he and Grace were married. She was going to need time to recover, and there was no chance she would be able to go back to work anytime soon. Her contract would run out, and now that the Lombards had—
“What do you mean you are Grace’s family?” Miss K asked.
“Grace and I are married.” He turned to the doctor. “So if you don’t mind, I’d like to see my wife.” He didn’t wait for permission but opened the door to the examining room and closed it behind him.
She was lying on a cot, one soot-blackened arm covering her eyes. Outside, it was dark, but he walked to the window and pulled down the shade anyway before setting the single chair close to where she lay.
“Grace?” He pulled her arm away. Tenderly, he ran his fingers over the cut lip, the swollen cheek.
She clutched his hand. “He tried…he wanted to…”
“Shhh. It’s over, Grace. He can’t hurt you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
She started coughing and choking, so he helped her to a half-sitting position, grabbing whatever pillow or blanket was available to support her. On a table near the door, he spotted a pitcher of water and a glass. He filled the glass halfway and brought it to her. “Take it slow,” he instructed, holding the glass to her lips.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I was a fool. I should have…”
Nick was stunned. Grace was blaming herself for what that old man had tried to do—maybe had succeeded in doing.
Her eyes widened. “Will I be arrested, Nick?”
“For what?”
“I heard the sheriff say Jasper Perkins died of a gunshot wound. He had a gun with him, but I never…I could never…”
Nick abandoned the chair to sit next to her on the cot, taking her in his arms as he rested his back against the wall. “We’ll get it all sorted out.” He wasn’t entirely convinced of that though. The truth was, the sheriff seemed inclined to believe Grace had in fact shot Perkins. He might even go a step farther and accuse her of setting the fire deliberately to cover it up.
In a desperate attempt to turn her thoughts to other things, he said, “Did you know Miss Kaufmann’s given name is Bonnie?”
She looked up at him and frowned. “Don’t try to distract me, Nick. Am I in trouble or not?”
“Right now, the only thing you need to worry about is getting well.”
She was quiet for a moment. “How on earth did you learn Miss K’s first name?”
“Might have been something Aidan said—or maybe it was when they heard me tell Doc that you and I are married.”
She stiffened and then slowly relaxed. “It had to come out some time, I suppose,” she said. “So we’ve got more problems than the possibility I might go to jail? I’ll have no pay, and we still have nowhere to live.”
“Not really. Truth is that side of things is looking pretty good.” He told her about his meeting with the Lombards. “That’s why I came to town today—so we could celebrate.”
“Some celebration,” she whispered as she stroked his cheek. “But wonderful news for you,” she added.
“For us,” he corrected her.
There was a light tap on the door, and Doc opened it enough to look in on them. Nick stood as the doctor stepped fully into the room and left the door open so that Aidan and Miss K could look in as well. “Grace, your employers and I feel it might be best if we move you to the hotel where you can recuperate while this whole business…while things…”
“Thank you,” Grace replied. She made a show of trying to sit up straighter and then realized her clothing was ripped and covered in soot. “Perhaps, Miss Kaufmann, if it isn’t too much trouble, you could bring me some fresh clothing and let Emma and Lily know I’m fine. I’m sure they must have heard any number of terrible tales by now.”
“Of course,” Miss K said, and she seemed relieved to have some task to do. “I’ll go straight away.”
“And, Grace,” Aidan said, “you are not to worry about your position. We can cover your shifts for now and—”
Nick knew the exact moment Aidan Campbell recalled that Nick and Grace were married, the moment he realized Grace could no longer be considered a Harvey Girl.
“I’ll just…” He edged back from the doorway. “I’ll see to a room for you in the hotel,” he promised and left.
Doc busied himself putting away the supplies he’d used to treat Grace’s wounds and examine her. “Sheriff Daniels will want to question you, Grace,” he said as he worked. “But I’ll make sure we put that off as long as possible.”
“Thank you.”
“As for you,” the doctor said, turning his attention on Nick, “your wife is going to need care. I understand that you just want to have her with you, but you need to consider what is best for her, and right now, that means keeping her in town where I can check in on her regularly. It looks like her friends at the hotel are willing to provide the care she’ll need in the next week or so. I assume I can count on you not to interfere with that?”
Nick bristled. The doctor was a small man of about fifty who peered over the top of half-glasses with thick lenses. When they’d been standing next to each other in the reception area, Nick had towered over him. But now he was talking to Nick like a father to an errant son.
“I will do whatever is best for Grace,” he replied stiffly.
Waters smiled. “Excellent. Then wait here until Miss Kaufmann returns. She can assist Grace in changing. In the meantime, I have a wheelchair for transporting her to the hotel.”
“No need,” Nick said. “I’ll carry her.”
When Doc seemed inclined to object, Nick moved a step closer to Grace.
“Very well, but I am warning you, young man, she needs rest. This is going to take some time.”
“I understand,” Nick replied.
Doc nodded and left the room.
Nick sat down again and held Grace. “I’d sing you a lullaby, but the hands at the ranch say I have no voice for singing.”
“Hum then,” she croaked, snuggling closer to him.
He chose a song he suddenly recalled his mother humming to herself as she went about her chores. He’d forgotten the words, if he ever knew them. Grace’s head grew
heavy against him, and he knew she would soon be sleeping.
But when Bonnie Kaufmann came bustling in with a bundle of clothing and greetings from Emma and Lily, Grace roused herself.
“I’ll be just outside the door,” Nick promised as he left the room, closing the door behind him. In the reception area, the doctor was sitting at his desk, making notes. “What do I owe you?” Nick asked.
Doc looked up and actually removed the half-glasses as he studied Nick. “Save your money, Mr. Hopkins. Once your wife is settled, you’ll have need of it to purchase these compounds I’m ordering from the pharmacy.” He tore a paper from the pad and handed it to Nick. “I added a salve that will help heal those burns on your hands.”
Nick scanned the script without understanding any of the words. “What are you going to tell the sheriff?” he asked.
“I first need to examine the body of the deceased.” In addition to his role as the town’s doctor, Tom Waters served as Juniper’s coroner and funeral director. “But after speaking to your wife briefly, it is my opinion that whatever happened in that cabin this evening, none of it was her fault.”
Nick felt the full force of the emotions of the last several hours settle into a hard lump in the middle of his throat. His legs threatened to fail him, so he grasped the back of a chair to steady himself. That’s when he realized tears were plopping like raindrops after a long drought onto the front of his shirt.
Doc stood and led Nick to sit down in the chair. “She’s young and strong, Nick. Your wife is going to be all right,” he assured him. And then he said the same words Nick had used in trying to console Grace. “The important thing to remember is that her ordeal with Perkins is over.”
Only Nick was pretty sure it wasn’t.
* * *
Grace was vaguely aware of Miss K helping her undress, washing away soot and dirt, and putting her into the heavy flannel nightgown and robe. But when Miss K wadded the clothing she’d been wearing and seemed to be looking for a place she could dispose of it, Grace once again found her strength. “No. Bring it,” she said. “Better yet, give it to the sheriff. Let him see what that horrid man tried to do to me.” She choked on fresh sobs as the memories of her ordeal overwhelmed her.
“Calm yourself, Grace. I’ll make sure the sheriff sees the clothing.” Miss K placed a blanket around Grace’s shoulders and then opened the connecting door. “Nick, she’s ready.”
When he lifted her and started for the hotel, for some reason she thought of that day they’d first met on the train—the way he had stored her suitcase in the overhead rack, lifting it as if it weighed next to nothing. How long ago that all seemed now.
Inside the hotel—through the front entrance as if she were a paying guest—Aidan directed Nick to a room on the first floor, close to the lobby. It was beautifully furnished with a double bed, a dresser, an upholstered chair, and a writing table. The walls were covered in weavings done by local native people. Nick laid her on the turned-down bed and pulled the covers over her. “What do you need?” he asked, stroking her hair back from her temple.
“You,” she whispered. But her eyes were fluttering closed. She was so very tired. She fought, but sleep won the battle.
When she woke, the sun was just beginning to rise. Nick was asleep in the chair, his boots off and feet propped on the table. He needed a shave, and his shirt was spotted with soot. It occurred to her that in saving her and returning to bring out Perkins’s body, he could have been seriously hurt. She pushed herself to a half-sitting position, trying to examine him for burns, but the movement sent a wave of dizziness and pain through her, and she collapsed back onto the pillows with a whimper.
Nick woke at once and looked around, getting his bearings. When his gaze settled on her, he stood and came to her. “Good morning, Wife,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “What can I get you?”
“Just you,” she repeated the answer she’d given the night before. Then she started to cough, the strangling sound reverberating throughout the room as Nick hurried to get water. The door opened, and Miss K brought her a foul-looking concoction in a glass.
“Good morning, Grace. Time for your medicine.” She gave the liquid a final stir and handed Grace the glass. “Down the hatch,” she instructed. “Come on. Drink it all down. Polly is preparing an orange juice chaser.”
As if she’d heard her name, Polly entered the room, looking anywhere but at Grace. She carried a tray with a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice resting on a bed of ice. The Harvey way, Grace thought, nearly choking on the medicine. Nick stood by looking worried and helpless.
“Go get some breakfast, Nick,” Grace managed to croak as she exchanged the medicine glass for the juice. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Polly waited by the door. “Best listen to your wife,” she murmured as they left the room.
Grace turned to Miss K. “Everyone knows?”
“It seemed the lesser of two evils. Rumors were bound to spread. Besides, everyone is very happy for you and Nick. Well, perhaps not Polly, but she’ll come around in time. She’s a good person, Grace.” She sucked in her breath and added, “I must say I am disappointed that you felt you could not confide in me.”
“You would have had to terminate my contract, and I needed to see it out.”
“Yes.” She paced the room as if there were more she wanted to say. “Did Mr. Perkins know about your marriage?”
“Not until I told him. I thought if he knew I was married and no longer…pure, then he would want nothing more to do with me, but he became so enraged. He called me such horrible names, and he—” She choked again, but this time, it was on the tears she thought might never stop sneaking up on her whenever she recalled the fear and panic she’d felt in that cabin.
She realized Miss K’s eyes had also filled with tears. “Oh, Grace, I only wish… This never should have happened. I feel I have failed you.”
“Not at all. It was you and Emma and Lily who helped me through those times.”
Miss K brightened and removed two envelopes from the pocket of her apron. “Speaking of Emma and Lily, they want to visit, of course, but until we can be quite sure their illnesses have passed, Dr. Waters says they must make do with notes.”
Eagerly, Grace opened the first note. It was from Lily.
You’re married??? And here I had you pegged as far too innocent and shy to ever allow Nick Hopkins to persuade you to break the rules. Proud of you, girl! We must plan a proper party as soon as you are up to it.
Love,
Lily
Emma’s note was more serious.
Grace, we are here for you, whatever you may need—you and Nick. Lily and I are so happy for you both, but you must allow yourself to heal properly. We will visit soon. In the meantime, follow the doctor’s orders and tell Nick to do the same.
Your friend,
Emma
Grace folded the notes and handed them back to Miss K, who placed them in the drawer of the bedside table. “Could you let them know I got their letters and I can’t wait to see them?”
“Of course.” Miss K fluffed the pillows and rearranged the covers. “Now you get some rest. The doctor will stop by later.”
“And the sheriff?”
Miss K frowned. “No word on that, but Aidan—Mr. Campbell—will make sure you have plenty of warning.” She patted Grace’s shoulder, then gathered the medicine and juice glasses and walked to the door. “Grace, would you like me to contact your family?”
“No. I don’t want to worry them. I’ll write them once—” The tears started again.
Miss K bit her lower lip and left the room.
When Nick returned after having breakfast at the lunch counter, Grace insisted he go back to the ranch and get some rest. “I’ll probably sleep much of the day,” she said. “Besides, the doctor will check on me later.” He still l
ooked torn. “Go. We can’t afford to both be out of work.” She tried to make her tone light but failed.
“I’ll be back this evening,” he promised as he leaned in to kiss her. He skimmed his forefinger over the bruises and cut on her lip, and his expression changed from tenderness to a rage that scared her.
She clasped his forearm. “I am fine,” she told him. “A few scrapes and such that will heal in a few days.”
“You could have died, Grace. That man tried to—”
“That man is dead and can no longer cause harm to me or anyone else. You said yourself that it’s over. Please do not allow Jasper Perkins to haunt either of us from the grave.”
He started to say something—no doubt to remind her of all the terror the banker had put her through—but then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You’re right,” he said. “What can I bring you when I return? Mrs. Lombard will want to send something, I’m sure. How about some of Hattie’s ginger cookies?”
Grace felt a new wave of emotion threaten to overcome her. She was not used to being cared for. On the farm, she was the one others had turned to when they needed something. “Ginger cookies sound nice,” she managed. Then she squeezed his hand. “Now go, or you’ll just get there before you need to turn around and return.”
“Yes, ma’am. You know, if I’d thought you’d be this bossy, I might have thought twice about marrying you?” He smiled, and she realized it was the first time she’d seen him smile openly in a long time.
“Too late, cowboy. I’m all yours. Now go.”
He was chuckling as he stepped into the hall and closed the door. Grace sighed with relief and pulled the covers to her chin.
She had no idea how long she slept. She was vaguely aware of people coming and going—the doctor, who advised letting her sleep, followed by Emma and Lily, who whispered to each other as they stood in the doorway, keeping their distance lest they pass on their illness to Grace.
“She looks peaceful,” Lily said.
“She’s not dead and lying in her coffin,” Emma countered.
“I never said she was. I just meant—” And then Lily started to cry, and Emma comforted her as they left the room.
