As Eli headed for the road he was intercepted by one of the younger Wilson children, a tow-headed boy wearing a pair of pants that were too small, a shirt that had enough room for another sibling or two, one sock, and a pair of worn shoes that had obviously been handed down from an older brother.
“Sheriff, I’d like a minute of your time please.”
The boy’s demeanor was so at odds with his bedraggled appearance and surroundings that Eli struggled not to smile. He crouched down and gave the boy his undivided attention. “What’s on your mind, little man?”
“Will you tell Miss Peg not to be coming out here anymore?”
Eli rocked back a little. “Do you mind telling me why?”
“Every time she comes here, she leaves a baby. There’s not room for another one.”
Eli wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What?”
The boy swiped at his nose with a sleeve of the once white shirt. “She’s the only one who could be bringing them. We don’t have much other company dropping by. Sometimes, Miss Peg comes and talks to Ma awhile, and don’t leave a baby. But plenty of times she does.”
The boy bent down to pull up the sock. “I’ve tried getting a look in that bag she carries, to see how many babies are in there, but she won’t let it out of her sight. I’m not sure where she gets them, but she needs to find some other place to leave the next one. I figured Ma or Pa would tell her to leave off, but they keep smiling and thankin’ her when she leaves.”
Eli covered a grin by rubbing his hand across his mouth. “You think Peg Harmon is bringing babies out here?”
The kid looked at him with suspicion. “That’s what my big brother said. Can you think of any other way they’re getting here?”
Eli cleared his throat. “No, can’t say as I do. Tell you what, I will have a word with Peg. Maybe she can just come visit your mother from time-to-time for a while.”
Still all business, the boy nodded. “Preciate it.” He wasn’t allowed time for anything else as one of his older brothers stuck his head out the barn door and hollered, “C’mon, squirt. You got chores to do.”
The boy loped off, joined by two other siblings before he reached the barn. Several of the kids looked exactly like Adger, and Eli had a fleeting thought of a smaller version of a Calhoun. He couldn’t help but smile.
He’d made it to the road when he suddenly stopped still. Where had that thought come from?
Considering his own childhood, and his way of life, he’d long ago given up thoughts of having a family of his own. Even though he was building a house, he’d always pictured himself living there alone.
In fact, he’d pretty much blocked out any notice of children. Now suddenly it seemed that kids were everywhere. Maggie Radford’s baby, Brody, and the Wilson children.
Eli realized what was happening.
He had to get that woman’s problem solved and get her out of here.
Chapter Ten
Maggie pushed open the back screen door and stepped onto the porch. Drawing in a deep breath, she leaned against the porch rail enjoying the sunshine and crisp air.
She’d gotten Lucinda to take two ounces from the bottle before falling asleep. Peg said it was a good sign. Encouraged, Maggie had cleaned the kitchen and cooked enough food for the day, after convincing Peg that she would prefer to help instead of convalescing. As long as she moved carefully, her ribs didn’t hurt as much as they once had.
Still, Maggie was restless. She adjusted the shawl that Peg had given her, pulling it tighter over her shoulders. She had safety, at least for now, but no peace of mind. Although her thoughts were clearer than they had been in weeks, she was still not…home.
How long had she been here? She didn’t even know what day it was. Neither Elijah Calhoun nor Peg Harmon kept regular hours. Like physicians, a sheriff and a midwife responded at a moment’s notice when called on by those in need.
It struck Maggie that she was one of those people. Thank you, Lord, for bringing me here.
Although her gratitude was genuine, her unease and discontent soon occupied her mind again. She was used to coming and going as she pleased. Now her world was reduced to an unfamiliar house at the edge of a small town. And she didn’t really know these people.
Eli Calhoun had threatened to lock her up, for real, if she tried to leave again. She was lucky he even let her go outside to use the privy—which was the only thing she could see from the back of Peg’s house, besides a dense thicket of woods.
She wasn’t going to get anywhere by being obstinate with the man. From now on, Maggie was going to do her best to convince him that she could be trusted. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long. She needed to go home. In addition to her father, she had important things to tend to, including the annual Society Sisters Community Charity event to arrange. There was an important planning meeting that she couldn’t miss.
Sighing, Maggie took another look around. According to Peg, her house was the last one on the south end of town. There was no discernible trail through the woods, but there was the occasional break in the trees. Some had lost their leaves, but the cedar and live oak trees were green. If she and the baby were going to be confined somewhere, this was better than many places.
There was a neighbor immediately to the north, and from her vantage point on the porch Maggie could see a small yard, and a portion of the eaves and roof.
The melodic toll of church bells brought a fresh rush of homesickness to Maggie. It must be Sunday. She tilted her head trying to determine how close the church was. Would she be able to hear them sing? She had no idea what the Moccasin Rock church looked like, so she closed her eyes and pictured instead the beautiful old rock church at Fair Haven. The place her family had attended for years.
She and her father always sat in the same spot—on the right hand side of the aisle, second pew from the front.
Maggie’s eyes popped open at a rustling sound and she caught a glimpse of a little dark-haired girl in the yard next door. The child was talking to a rag doll in a singsong voice, kicking leaves as she walked, followed by a little white dog. Charmed, Maggie stepped forward, then halted when she recalled the sheriff’s caution about not being seen, by anyone.
Better safe than sorry, she thought, contenting herself with listening to the girl’s happy chatter. What would Lucinda look like at that age? The thought sobered her. She was responsible for the care and upbringing of another human. A helpless one. And she couldn’t even seem to help herself these days.
A voice called out from the house next door, in halting English. Maggie didn’t recognize the accent. “Ruthie, come inside, it’s getting colder.”
“But Mama, I’m showing my baby and Ollie how to sing.”
“I’ve made fresh bread,” her mother said.
That did the trick. Maggie smiled as the girl scurried inside, talking to her doll and the dog the whole time.
With the girl gone, Maggie ventured forth into the yard. She’d gotten nearly to the back, bending to look at some red berries on a wildly-overgrown hedge row, when she heard a grunt, then a high-pitched squeal.
From the corner of her eye she saw a flash of movement, but before she could form a coherent thought someone grabbed her upper arms and dragged her backwards.
Maggie kicked and thrashed out at her captor and was dropped immediately. Landing on her bottom in the leaves, she looked up into the face of the man towering over her.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Radford.”
Maggie scooted backwards, alarm coursing through her. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“I’m Brody Flynn. Sheriff Calhoun told me about you. I’m sorry for scaring you, but that sow of Adger Wilson’s was about to run you over.” He pointed toward the biggest pig Maggie had ever seen, one that was currently headed around the house and toward the road.
It took a few moments for Maggie to catch her breath, and another few before she realized that despite his size, Brody was only a young boy. And he’d been sent t
o watch over her.
Standing, she straightened her dress and shook leaves from the shawl. “Are you supposed to be guarding me?”
The boy stammered a few times. “I…I don’t know as I’d rightly call it that. I don’t have a gun or anything. But the sheriff said I was to run for the deputy if any strangers showed up here or if…” His voice trailed off.
“Or if I tried to leave?” Maggie snapped.
He ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Remorse filled her. No matter how frustrated she was with her current lot in life, none of it was this boy’s doings. “Why don’t you come on in and have some cake? I just made one.”
He glanced at the house, and then back at her. “I’m not sure if I should, I’m supposed to be watching the place.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching me? Seems like you could do that better if you’re sitting right beside me.”
The boy smiled at her. “Yes, ma’am. I believe you’re right about that.”
When he was seated at the table with a glass of milk and a large piece of cake, Maggie picked up the baby and joined him. The boy was eating fast, like he was starving to death. She wasn’t so much worried about his table manners as she was his health.
“Slow down, you’re going to make yourself sick.”
He paused, color filling his face. “It sure is good.”
She handed him a napkin. “Thank you. How old are you, Brody?”
“I’ve turned fourteen.” He said it with a hint of wariness.
Maggie’s curiosity was piqued.
“How long have you lived in Moccasin Rock?”
“Since I was thirteen.”
Due to the vagueness of his reply, that could mean anything from a few days to a year. It was a simple enough question, why did he seem so uncomfortable?
Maggie tried asking a few more questions, and though Brody answered each one, politely, he never offered any additional information. And he was choosing his words carefully. Since she’d been doing much the same thing recently, Maggie was more aware of it than she normally would’ve been.
She tried a different tact. “So tell me about Moccasin Rock.”
“Don’t guess I know much. Just a town like any other.”
“Then tell me about Sheriff Calhoun.”
Brody’s face lit up.
Maggie smiled, glad the boy had swallowed his last bite of cake as words spilled from his mouth.
“He’s the nicest man I know.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, ma’am. He never hollers at me. Always has a kind word. And he lets me hang around the jail and help him. He won’t let me use a gun yet, though.”
“A gun? Why I should hope not. Don’t your folks worry about you spending time at the jail?”
He glanced away. “They’re okay with it.”
Or maybe they weren’t.
“It’s not dangerous,” the boy said. “Folks say that when Sheriff Calhoun came here everything got better.”
She refilled his glass with milk. “Why’s that?”
“Because he shot some bank robbers—but that was before he was the sheriff.”
Maggie set the pitcher down with a thump. “He what?”
“Sheriff Calhoun stopped a robbery at the bank here, but he didn’t live here yet. I heard Mr. Martin—he owns the mercantile—telling somebody that Eli Calhoun had stepped off the train at the same time that some robbers were holding up the bank. Mr. Martin said that Eli walked right up to them. Like he wasn’t afraid to die. Killed them both.”
“But he wasn’t the sheriff yet?”
“No, ma’am.”
“What was he doing in Moccasin Rock?”
Brody shrugged. “Don’t know. Folks think he was passing through. Silas said he looked “worse for the wear” at the time, but his gun-hand was steady. Silas said the town’s other sheriff was killed in that robbery, and Eli was offered the job. They didn’t know much about him, but they knew he wasn’t a coward.”
As Brody talked, his enthusiasm increased, telling her in great detail about an outlaw that Eli had shot down in the street during the summer. But when she asked about his own family, he clammed up.
“Thank you for the cake, Miss Radford. It was about the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time. I guess I’d better get on back outside. If Sheriff Calhoun passes by I don’t want him thinking I deserted my post.”
“If he asks, I’ll tell him you took very good care of me,” she said. “And please, call me Maggie.”
Color rose in his cheeks as he smiled. “Thank you, Miss Maggie.” He glanced at the baby again.
“Would you like to hold her?” Maggie asked.
Brody’s eyes widened as he backed toward the door. “Oh, no. Thank you, though.”
Maggie smiled down at the baby in her arms as the boy hurried down the back steps.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything personal by that, Lucinda.”
What an unusual boy.
Then her thoughts returned to Eli Calhoun.
A man—and not a lawman—who was that good with a gun.
Maggie shivered at all that implied.
Chapter Eleven
Eli followed Nathaniel up the steps of the huge, two-story brick house that was home to the Radford family. This is where Maggie lived? For some reason that bothered him, but he didn’t have time to dwell on why.
Nathaniel knocked several times before the door opened. A thin man with black hair, prominent eyebrows, long sideburns and a frosty expression greeted them with less than enthusiasm.
Eli recognized him from Maggie’s description. Hollis Anderson.
“Sorry for the delay, we’re currently understaffed.” The man gave them a sweeping glance. “How may I help you…gentlemen?”
The deliberate pause before the word gentlemen amused Eli. If Anderson was trying to intimidate or insult them, he would have to do better than that. Eli didn’t care one bit what this dolt thought of them. Then he realized the man had said we’re understaffed.
Maggie hadn’t mentioned that Anderson was living here. Did she know?
“I’m here to see Mr. Nelson Radford,” Nathaniel said.
The other man’s gaze sharpened. “In regards to what? Who are you?”
Nathaniel pointed to the leather satchel in his hand. “I’m Dr. Nathaniel Calhoun, and this is my brother, Elijah Calhoun, the sheriff of Moccasin Rock.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Anderson’s face. “What do you want to see Mr. Radford about?”
“I recently acquired the practice of Dr. Bacchus over in Moccasin Rock,” Nathaniel said, “and a few of the patients I’m supposed to check-in with on a regular basis live in Fair Haven. I’m here to give Mr. Radford a routine checkup.”
Eli was impressed with how well Nathaniel handled the request. Everything he’d said had been the truth. He hadn’t actually said that Mr. Radford was one of the patients.
Anderson’s gaze shifted back and forth between the Calhouns before lingering on Eli’s badge, and then the Colt .45. “Do you always bring an armed guard with you for patient visits?” he asked Nathaniel.
Eli could tell that Nathaniel’s smile was forced, but he doubted if anyone else would notice. “No, my brother had business here in town as well.”
Hollis Anderson then leveled a look at Eli. “Aren’t you out of your jurisdiction?”
Eli nodded. “Yep. My business here in town is personal.” And it was.
Nathaniel drew Hollis Anderson’s attention again. “Are you a relative of Mr. Radford? Shall I feel free to discuss any medical concerns with you?”
The subtle reference to Anderson’s control seemed to please the man. He straightened his collar. “Yes, I’m Nelson Radford’s future son-in-law.” He motioned them inside.
Eli’s fists clenched. If Maggie was telling the truth, this man was at best a liar, and at worst he was the one who’d beaten her.
As Anderson seemed to consider Nathaniel’s reques
t, Eli almost wished the man would take a swing at them. Eli wanted, badly, to beat him senseless.
And the strength of that desire surprised him. He’d been in control of his feelings for years, at all times. Emotion was dangerous—it could get you killed.
Hollis Anderson was still deliberating, or at least enjoying making them wait in the entryway, when another man stepped into the hall from an adjoining room and beckoned to Hollis. Eli studied the new man. He was too young to be Maggie’s father.
“Excuse me a moment,” Hollis said, before joining the other man. The two of them held a hushed conversation before Hollis suddenly cursed and smacked his hand down on the banister.
Something had made Hollis Anderson angry, which brought satisfaction to Eli. Still scowling, Anderson looked at them.
“You can go on up,” he said, pointing to Nathaniel, “but you stay here, Sheriff.” He then resumed his conversation.
While Hollis and the other man continued to speak in urgent tones, and Nathaniel made his way upstairs, Eli took the opportunity to peek into the room to his right. It was well-appointed, luxurious even, with heavy wallpaper, lush textures, fancy rugs and gold wall sconces.
Since Hollis was still engrossed in his conversation, Eli eased over to the other side of the wide hall, and got a glimpse of a dining room with massive chandeliers and a table nearly as long as his cabin. There was a huge hutch filled with gold-trimmed plates, white with delicate pink and green blossoms. There was also gold-rimmed glass ware. Crystal? Most likely. He was sure that the drawers underneath were filled with costly silver. This is what Maggie was accustomed to.
Most of the time Eli used a beat-up graniteware plate and a Mason jar to drink from. Unless he was outside, then he used a hollowed-out gourd dipper.
Eli had seen houses like this, even been inside some of them. He could never imagine living this way. He stepped back into the hall in time to overhear the men talking.
“Well tell them to keep looking,” Hollis said. “She has to be out there somewhere.”
They were talking about Maggie. Eli waited until the other man was gone before addressing Hollis. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear about the missing woman. A Pinkerton agent stopped in Moccasin Rock and told me about it. Sad, terrible situation. Have you had any luck yet?”
A Texas Promise Page 7
