The Way of Love

by Tracie Peterson

  The other children said nothing, knowing that he would not appreciate their delaying him further. Caroline only dared it because she knew he favored her more than the others.

  “Will you be very late, my dear?” Deborah asked.

  “Possibly. Don’t wait up for me. As I told Ellen, you need your rest for the trip.”

  He signaled the butler to have the carriage brought around and enjoyed the musical talents of his daughter as he waited. She would make someone a good wife. He really needed to start considering who that young man would be. He had it narrowed to three contenders but hadn’t given it much thought beyond that, what with his more pressing plans to arrange the Indian war.

  The carriage ride across town seemed to take forever. Maybe it was just that he was anxious to see Carpenter’s life ended. When the driver finally stopped in front of their destination, Lakewood didn’t even wait for him to open the carriage door.

  “Should I wait or return for you, sir?” the driver asked.

  “Come back for me around ten. I should have concluded everything by then.”

  He walked to the front door and went inside. He’d already arranged for a tasty supper to be made. It smelled heavenly.

  He heard noise coming from the dining room. He’d clearly instructed the staff to prepare the meal, then take the evening off and stay away from the house until after ten. He felt for the small pistol he carried in his coat pocket.

  “Hello?” He stepped toward the dining room.

  Seated at the table was an unwelcome surprise. Lakewood’s mouth went dry, and his throat felt as if it were full of sawdust.

  He hadn’t expected to see the tall, muscular man. He was usually content to remain in the shadows and control all of his puppets from a distance. If he’d bothered to come to Portland, something was very wrong.

  “Mr. Smith,” Lakewood said, moving into the dining room. “What a surprise.”

  Mr. Smith looked up at him, a piece of filet halfway to his mouth. He had helped himself to a hearty portion of Lakewood’s meal. “Yes, well, circumstances have changed, and we must reconsider some of our plans.” He popped the beef into his mouth.

  Lakewood went to the sideboard and helped himself to dinner. He saw the wine was already at Mr. Smith’s right hand and grabbed an empty goblet as well. “I hope you are well.” He started for the end of the table.

  “Sit here at my left. We have a lot to discuss, and we can’t risk being overheard.”

  “Of course.” Lakewood knew there was no sense in trying to make small talk. Smith wasn’t interested in anything other than business.

  Lakewood put his plate on the table, as well as the goblet. It was only then that he realized he’d forgotten silverware. He retrieved it quickly, and when he returned to the table, he found that Smith had already filled his glass with wine.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Lakewood said as he took his seat, “but I had planned to have dinner with Gerome Berkshire this evening. He should be here any time.”

  “Good. That saves me from having you send for him.” Smith continued eating as if he didn’t know how many social rules he had broken by barging into Lakewood’s house and making himself at home. The fact was, he didn’t care about such formalities even though he’d been raised in society.

  “You’ve probably already figured out that I gave the staff the evening off,” Lakewood said.

  Smith nodded. “I ran into the last of them as I arrived. I told them you were expecting me, and they allowed me access. You really should get better servants. I could have been anyone.”

  “True enough.” Lakewood could hardly tell Smith that he was at the top of the list of people Lakewood wouldn’t have wanted in the house.

  A knock sounded on the front door, and then it opened. Gerome Berkshire announced himself.

  “We’re in the dining room, Gerome,” Lakewood called. “Come join us.”

  He heard Gerome’s boots cross the foyer and then come down the hall. He would no doubt be just as surprised to see Mr. Smith.

  “What in the world is this all about?” Gerome questioned, coming into the room. He saw Mr. Smith and stopped. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Neither did Mr. Lakewood,” Smith replied. “Come in and have a chair. In fact, get some dinner. We aren’t standing on formalities here tonight.”

  Gerome hesitated, then gave a nod. He went to the sideboard, throwing careful glances at Smith and Lakewood as he chose his meal. When he was finally settled in the seat across from Lakewood, Smith picked up the conversation.

  “I was just telling Mr. Lakewood how glad I am that you were coming this evening. Otherwise I would have had to send someone to find you. This makes it much simpler.”

  “What can we do for you?” Lakewood asked. He hated the feeling Smith gave him. Smith was younger than he and Gerome were, yet he commanded a presence that dominated the room. He was in control of the entire plan. It was his family’s wealth and power that had drawn Lakewood’s attention, and Lakewood’s resources that had drawn his. It seemed a good marriage of sorts.

  Smith finished eating and even polished off his wine before saying another word. Lakewood didn’t like having to wait for information, but there was nothing he could do. Smith was in charge and would do things his way.

  “I understand,” Smith said, pushing his plate back, “that we’ve had more than a little attention from the government. I’m curious why I haven’t heard the details of this until now.”

  Lakewood wondered who was giving Smith information. When he found out, he would have that person eliminated, but for now he’d have to play his cards close to the vest.

  “I didn’t think it worth bothering you with,” Lakewood replied. “I’m already dealing with it.”

  Smith gave a cold smile. “I don’t pay you to do my thinking, Lakewood. I am the only one who will decide what is worth my trouble. It seems to me that a government investigation in which one of our close associates is forced to turn over evidence is reason enough for me to be involved.”

  Gerome coughed, spewing wine across the table and onto Lakewood’s face and clothes. Lakewood slammed a fist on the table before thinking. Cursing, he grabbed his napkin and wiped his face. “Control yourself, Berkshire.”

  Smith watched the exchange with an expression of ennui. He picked up the wine and poured himself another glass. “What else haven’t you told me, Lakewood?”

  “Me? I, ah, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t kept anything from you. I send the reports as requested, and all the shipments of guns have been stockpiled and are ready for your use. I sent you the complete inventory and location of everything.”

  “Yes, I have that, as well as the list of men who work for you. What about the situation with Seth Carpenter? I thought I told you last Christmas to kill him. Why is still alive?”

  “He stopped being a part of the investigation, and I thought maybe he could be useful to us down the road,” Lakewood replied, hoping the answer would show Smith that he was only thinking of the end results. “He has connections that we might be able to use.”

  “So once again you were doing my thinking for me. Is that it?” Smith shook his head and got to his feet. He paced a moment, then took a stand directly behind Gerome. “I can’t have that, Lakewood. I’m quite capable of doing my own thinking.”

  He drew a revolver, and Lakewood’s eyes widened. His chest tightened. Smith needed him. He needed his help. He wouldn’t kill him.

  Gerome looked confused. “Samuel, you look as if you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  Lakewood had opened his mouth to assure Smith that he was completely useful to him when the gun went off. A bullet tore into his chest.

  For a moment Lakewood felt searing pain. The bullet seemed to pin him to the chair. He tried to take a breath, but only a strange gasp sounded, and no air entered his lungs.

  As he fought to stay alive, Lakewood watched Smith move to the side of the open-mouthed Gerome, put th
e revolver to his head, and pull the trigger. Gerome slumped forward and his head hit his plate of food. Blood poured out across the fine linen tablecloth.

  It was the last thing Lakewood ever saw.

  CHAPTER 24

  Faith could think of nothing but the danger in which she’d put her family. Lakewood would be furious when he found out she was gone. She never should have left.

  Andrew took pity on her and cut the trip short. “You won’t be at ease until you see for yourself that everyone is all right,” he told her as they raced back to Portland from Astoria.

  They docked late afternoon on the twenty-fifth, and Faith wanted only to go to the hospital and check on Seth’s condition. Andrew refused to let her go alone, so he put his men in charge of the Morning Star and accompanied her in a hired cab.

  “I’m here to see Seth Carpenter,” she told the nurse at the reception desk.

  The woman looked at her for a moment. “Who are you?”

  “I’m his . . . well, he’s married to my cousin. Her name is Nancy, and she runs the boardinghouse where we all live.” Faith knew she was rambling, but there was something in the woman’s expression that worried her. “What room is he in? I know my way around the hospital from my classes here.”

  The nurse glanced over her shoulder as if making sure no one could overhear her. “He’s not here anymore,” she replied, turning back to Faith.

  Faith’s heart dropped. “He died?”

  The nurse again looked around the room and down the hall. She shook her head. “No. I don’t know where they took him. They were worried about his safety.”

  Faith let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She turned and took hold of Andrew’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  At the boardinghouse, Faith was surprised to find two armed soldiers on the front porch. She knew Major Wells had promised protection, but it seemed strange to have uniformed men patrolling her place of residence. After answering the guard’s questions and waiting for someone to verify who they were, Faith and Andrew were finally allowed to come inside.

  “It’s been chaos.” Bedelia was the one who had identified them and seemed to feel it her duty to catch them up on all that had happened. “The soldiers arrived not long after you left. They had orders to guard us and to protect Mr. Carpenter at the hospital.”

  “But he’s here now, as I understand it.” Faith discarded her wrap and hat.

  “Yes. Mrs. Armistead and Nancy thought it best to care for him here at the house. The doctor comes once a day unless there is a problem. We haven’t had any real complications, however, since last week. He’s doing much better, but it will be a long recovery.”

  “I’m sure.” Faith looked over her shoulder at Andrew. “Why don’t you wait for me in the front room while I check on Seth? Maybe you can sweet-talk Miss Bedelia into a cup of coffee.” She smiled at the spinster. “I think we could both use one, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “Of course not. There’s always a pot on the stove, as you well know.” Bedelia sounded gruff, but there was a softness in her expression that hadn’t been there before. “I’m glad you’ve come back. We were quite concerned for your safety.”

  “Well, you needn’t have worried. My fiancé was overseeing my protection.”

  Bedelia looked surprised. “You’re engaged?”

  “We are.”

  The spinster huffed and turned toward the kitchen. “I believe you drink your coffee black, Captain Gratton.”

  “I do, thank you.”

  Faith looked at Andrew and winked. When Bedelia was out of earshot, she leaned close. “I think she likes you.”

  “That’s a relief.” His tone was sarcastic, but Faith knew it meant a lot to him to be accepted.

  Without further delay, Faith made her way to Nancy’s bedroom. The door stood open, and to her amazement, the room had been transformed. At one time there had been a sitting area, but now that was taken over by a makeshift hospital room. There was a single iron-framed bed and several tables with various bottles and instruments, bandages, and other medical supplies.

  Seth was asleep, but he did look better. His head still sported lacerations, bruises, and bandaging, but much of the swelling was gone. Faith moved closer and found Seth’s arm splinted and wrapped tight. Otherwise, he seemed to be resting well. She glanced at the other end of the room where Nancy, great with child, slept on the bed she’d once shared with her husband.

  A tap on her shoulder made Faith jump. She turned to find Grace motioning her away from the room. She followed Nancy’s mother down the hall to the dining room.

  “I just finally got Nancy to rest.” Grace embraced Faith. “It’s good to have you back, but I didn’t expect you for a few days yet.”

  “Andrew knew I was miserable and cut the trip short. He broke all sorts of records speeding us home.” She pulled back. “Now, tell me how Seth is doing. He looks better.”

  “He is much improved. It was a frightful ordeal, and we thought we’d lost him more than once, but he’s a fighter, and Nancy wouldn’t let him quit. Bringing him here was actually the major’s idea. He knew it would be easier to protect all of us at the house rather than going back and forth to the hospital.”

  “That makes sense. What about Nancy?”

  “She’s doing well, but I think the baby is going to come early.”

  Faith nodded. “I thought so too. I’m sure the stress of all this has taken its toll. Hopefully the baby will be all right. If not, we’ll see to it that he or she is well cared for.”

  “Indeed.” Grace smiled. “I feel better just knowing you’re here.” She sobered. “There is something you need to know.”

  Faith shook her head. “Bad news?”

  “Lakewood and Berkshire are dead.”

  It felt as if someone had forced all the air from her lungs. Faith reached for a dining room chair and gasped. “When?”

  “The night you left. The police want to speak with you.”

  “Me?” Faith sat on the chair, shaking her head. “You’d better tell me everything.”

  Grace pulled out the chair beside her and sat. “They had supper together at a house in town. At first it looked like a murder and a suicide. They considered that Mr. Berkshire had shot Mr. Lakewood and then shot himself. However, there was a third place setting where someone had obviously eaten their meal, then departed. But the police have no idea if that person left before the shooting started or if they were perhaps responsible for it.”

  Faith couldn’t comprehend that Samuel Lakewood was dead. The man who had sworn to hurt her and her family couldn’t cause her any more pain.

  “While searching for information, the officers found a letter in Lakewood’s pocket addressed to you. In the letter he demanded you join him at the address where he and Berkshire were killed. The police came here, asking after you, and we explained that you had left that evening with Andrew. They wanted to know what your relationship was to Lakewood, and we told them we weren’t entirely sure. Nancy remembered you’d spoken at Mrs. Lakewood’s lady’s tea.

  “They told us about the contents of the letter and asked if you two were having some sort of affair. We assured them no, that couldn’t be the case, but we didn’t want to say how much we all despised Lakewood. Apparently, however, they later learned about Mr. Lakewood having a part in getting you expelled, so they came back, spouting how you had motive to want him dead.”

  “I did want him dead,” Faith said, trying to understand what Grace was saying. “He planned to kill members of my family if I failed to agree to be his mistress and help him start an Indian war.” She looked up, feeling a terrible sense of dread. “I can hardly admit to that, however, without causing problems for the government’s investigation. Seth felt certain Lakewood had the cooperation of most of the police department and that many of them were probably involved in the plot to stir up a war. Oh, this is such a mess.”

  “Tomorrow we’ll send a telegram to your father and ask him to come right away.
He’ll know how to advise us.”

  Grace sounded so calm that Faith couldn’t help but feel her fears fade. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a problem. After all, she had witnesses of where she was that night, and the details of why and what she’d said to Major Wells surely could remain untold.

  “Mother? Oh, good, Faith. I’m so glad you’re back,” Nancy said, standing in the doorway to the dining room. She looked rather confused. “I think my water just broke.”

  “Are you sure everything is all right?” Nancy asked her mother. “I’m not having very strong contractions.”

  “No, but they’re quite regular, and I assure you they will strengthen as the night wears on. First babies usually take their time in coming, so just go about your business.”

  Seth watched from his bed, where Faith was changing one of his bandages. “She worries about everything, doesn’t she?” he murmured.

  “She does.” Faith finished what she was doing and smiled. “You’re doing so much better. I’m sure part of the reason is prayer, but the other part is sheer determination on your part.”

  “I had to be here for my family.”

  “Still, it will take a while, and you must obey doctor’s orders.”

  He smiled. “Seems I have so many doctors, I have little choice.”

  Faith squeezed his hand. “I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. I managed to anger the wrong people.”

  “It’s not your fault, Faith,” Nancy said from where she sat by the fire. “No more than it’s mine. After all, my dead husband started all of this.”

  “It is the fault of the evil men who are continuing this scheme,” Grace declared.

  Faith gathered the old bandages and her scissors. “I’ll get these soaking, and then I’m going to go see Andrew off. He’s been so patient to wait while I’ve gone back and forth to help here. When I spoke to him about sending Father a telegram, he reminded me that he was heading to Oregon City at first light. He plans to ask Father for my hand and give him a ride back.”