Leaving the saddle where it sat, Rosemarie hurried back into town. After a short visit with Jedediah, he agreed to collect the saddle she’d left behind. The next stop was the doctor’s house.
“Back already? That was quick,” Mrs. Kennedy said, her smile faltering as she took in Rosemarie’s appearance. “What’s the matter, dear? You look upset.”
“I need Dr. Kennedy to take a look at someone in the jail. He’s been beaten, and I doubt the sheriff would send for your husband because the prisoner is a military detainee.”
“Come in, let me get the doctor.”
Rosemarie followed Mrs. Kennedy down the hallway and entered the infirmary. All three children were fast asleep.
“How are they doing?”
“Just fine. The doctor and I bathed them in the oat water, and he gave them a little something to help them sleep. Only Amelia still has a fever, but it’s slight.” She patted Rosemarie’s hand. “Let me tell the doctor you’re here.”
Rosemarie sat on a chair next to Jace’s bed, where the boy peacefully slept. The rash had spread to his face and arms. Thank goodness they were in the care of the doctor. Even though chicken pox was one of the lesser evils in childhood diseases, it eased her mind to have them here when she needed to focus on Daniel.
“Now tell me about your young man.” Mrs. Kennedy bustled into the room. “The doctor will be right down.”
Rosemarie paced, wringing her hands. “Daniel is a Confederate soldier.” She cast an uneasy glance at Mrs. Kennedy. When the woman’s expression didn’t change, she continued. “He came to our farm looking for a place to bed down for the night. I had a serious cut on my leg.” She stopped her pacing and looked the woman in the eye. “He saved my life. The cut had become infected.” After taking a deep breath, she went on. “Then, he stayed for a while, helping with the chores, teaching Chandler how to hunt, making scrambled eggs for Amelia … ”
Unable to continue, she pushed her fist into her mouth, holding back tears. The image of Daniel swinging from a rope overwhelmed her.
“What’s this about someone needing attention at the jailhouse?” Dr. Kennedy entered the room, rolling down his shirtsleeves.
“It’s a friend of Mr. Wilson’s,” Mrs. Kennedy answered, giving Rosemarie time to compose herself.
“Can you come with me to the sheriff’s office?” Rosemarie’s voice was thick with emotion.
“Let’s go.” The doctor picked up his bag and they left the house.
• • •
The streets of Bartlett Creek continued to display flags, banners and a general sense of celebration. She couldn’t help but think how happy she would have been with the war coming to an end, if it had not been for Daniel being captured.
No longer would she need to cringe at the sound of horses riding up to her farm house, afraid one army or another would take more from her family. She could plant all the corn she wanted and not worry about losing it to military provisions. But none of it would matter if Daniel wasn’t with her.
Dr. Kennedy held the door for her as they entered.
Sheriff Jake Morris swung his feet off the desk, bringing his chair upright. He shoved a small book into his desk drawer. “What can I do for you, Doc?”
Despite the circumstances, Rosemarie smiled at the sheriff. A large man, he’d been hired by the town five years ago, when the former sheriff retired. With very little crime to deal with, Jake spent a lot of time reading penny novels, which he thought was a deep secret. The entire town knew of his private habit, but out of respect, and a genuine liking for the man, no one mentioned it to him.
“I understand you’re holding a man here who needs some medical attention.”
“You talking about that Reb in the back?”
The doctor nodded and headed toward the cell. “Can you open the door, please, Jake?”
The sheriff threw Rosemarie a curious glance, then grabbed the keys and followed the doctor. She was right behind him.
Daniel sat on the small cot, his eyes closed, and his head resting against the wall. Both of his eyes had been blackened, and dried blood crusted his split lip. Rosemarie drew in a sharp breath, which caused him to open his eyes.
“I don’t want you here.”
“Daniel, please.”
“Sheriff, please escort Mrs. Wilson from the jail.”
“No, Daniel,” she cried as the sheriff took her by the arm.
Daniel winced as he stood and walked to the bars of the cell. “Rosemarie, this is no place for you. Please do me a favor and forget me.”
She yanked her arm from the Sheriff’s hold. “No. I will not forget you, Daniel McCoy. Neither will Amelia, Jace and Chandler. We want you back with us.”
He slowly shook his head. “I will be hanged as soon as I’m returned to Camp Morton. Captain Nelson will not budge. Please go to your children.” He turned his back and shook his head at the doctor when he attempted to look at his injuries. “Leave me be. There’s no point in medical treatment for a dead man.”
“You might be willing to give up, Daniel. But I’m not.” Rosemarie continued to speak to his back. “Don’t give up. Please.”
“Ma’am,” the sheriff said softly. “It appears my prisoner doesn’t want you here, and I have to agree that the jailhouse is no place for a lady.”
Rosemarie pulled herself up to her full height and addressed Daniel. “I’ll be back. Just as soon as I figure out what to do.”
When no answer was forthcoming, she turned toward the sheriff. “I’m leaving.”
He tipped his hat and led her to the front door.
The sound of the sheriff’s door closing behind her echoed in her ears as she stood on the boardwalk. What to do now? She wrapped her arm around her middle to stop its pitching. If Daniel were to be saved, she needed to get herself under control.
“Mrs. Wilson, can I offer you a ride somewhere?” Dr. Kennedy walked up behind her, his face softened with compassion.
She shook her head and swiped at the tears gathering in her eyes.
Dr. Kennedy took her by the arm. “Come. Mrs. Kennedy will make us some tea, and you can visit with your children.”
• • •
Any other time, Rosemarie would have appreciated the aroma of fresh baked bread and simmering stew from the pot on the stove in Mrs. Kennedy’s kitchen. As it was, it took all her willpower not to run to the privy and empty her stomach.
“Dear, I believe Mrs. Wilson could use a good, strong cup of tea.” The doctor pulled out a chair for Rosemarie and indicated she should sit.
Mrs. Kennedy glanced at Rosemarie and tsked. “Oh, my. Yes, let’s have some tea. Then maybe you could eat a little bit of supper with us.”
“Thank you, I appreciate your kindness.” Rosemarie slumped in her chair, then abruptly stood. “I need to see to my children.”
“They’re all sleeping, nice and peaceful-like.”
Rosemarie smiled at the woman. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ll just take a peek at them.”
Her eyes filled again at the sight of her three children, all asleep, faces dotted with red marks. Although it had never seemed possible, given their differences and the war, Daniel would have made a wonderful father to them. He had so much patience with all their questions and requests.
She moved into the room and smoothed back the curls from Amelia’s face. How grateful the little girl had been for having scrambled eggs instead of oatmeal. And Chandler. She gently touched his cheek. So proud to be hunting, providing food for the family, as Daniel had explained was his duty. Soon her little boy would be turning into a young man. He would need the guidance of a strong, capable man to help him along that path.
Jace whimpered and she hurried to his side.
“Thirsty.”
Rosemarie eased his
head up and encouraged him to drink from the cool glass of water Mrs. Kennedy had left on the table alongside his cot. Like his brother and sister, he no longer burned with fever.
“How do you feel, honey?” She settled him in and smoothed the colorful patchwork quilt.
“Sleepy,” Jace mumbled as he rolled over and closed his eyes.
“Sleep is the best thing for them.” Dr. Kennedy entered, his confident presence filling the room. “Your tea is ready.”
Rosemarie stood and shook out her skirts. While dealing with her children, she’d forgotten about Daniel for a minute. But it all came rushing back as she followed the doctor down the hallway to the kitchen. Mrs. Kennedy had set the table with tea things, and bowls of stew and fresh bread.
Although her stomach had previously rolled at the thought of food, Rosemarie suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten anything since supper the night before. Maybe a little bit of food would restore her and help her come up with a plan to save Daniel.
The first few bites of the fragrant stew brought her hunger back full force. The three of them chatted amiably while they consumed the stew and made good use of the bread. Leaning back in her chair, Rosemarie took a sip of the tea, a full stomach relaxing her for the first time that day.
“Mrs. Wilson, if you’re going to help Lieutenant McCoy, you’re going to have to come up with a plan.”
Rosemarie closed her eyes and nodded at the doctor. “I know, and I’ve been wracking my brains trying to think of something.” She sat forward, her hands in her lap. “All I can think of is going to Camp Morton in the morning and pleading with the fort commander.”
Dr. Kennedy shook his head. “Colonel Ambrose Stevens is in charge of Camp Morton, and I’ve heard the man is out of the state right now. It seems he was called to Washington.”
Rosemarie drained her teacup and turned to Mrs. Kennedy. “I would like to try to pay a visit to the jailhouse again. But first I’d like to feed my children, if that is acceptable to you.”
“Of course, dear. I think something light on their stomachs would go well.” She spoke to Dr. Kennedy. “How about a bit of beef broth for the young ones?”
“That’s an excellent suggestion. It will build up their strength and not tax their systems.”
After spending time spooning broth into their mouths, Rosemarie read them a few stories, and soon all three children were nodding off. She tucked them in, kissed each one on the forehead, and headed to the hallway. Dr. and Mrs. Kennedy sat in the parlor, she with her knitting while the doctor read the newspaper.
Despite the pounding of her heart, Rosemarie enjoyed the peacefulness of the Kennedy parlor. A fireplace glowed, with enough heat to warm the room. The doctor and his wife had been married many years, and raised four boys, who now were off, living their own lives. The companionship the couple presented brought a hitch to Rosemarie’s heart. She and Daniel could have this. Would they be together like this many years from now, or would she forever mourn what never was?
“The children are all settled down and off to sleep.” Rosemarie swallowed against the thickness in her throat.
Mrs. Kennedy put down her knitting and regarded her. “Please return after your visit to the jail. The doctor and I would love for you to spend the night here with us.”
“You are very kind,” Rosemarie said.
“If you stop by the kitchen before you leave, I wrapped a package for Lt. McCoy.”
“Thank you so much.” She gathered the tea towel with bread, cheese and fruit inside, and left the house.
• • •
The celebration of the war’s end continued, the saloon seeming to be the focal point of the festivities. Rosemarie hurried past the revelers, covering the distance from the doctor’s house to the jail quickly. From half a block away, the building housing Daniel appeared dark and quiet. Her breathing hitched. Had Captain Nelson changed his mind and traveled to the camp tonight instead of in the morning? She ran the last few steps and pulled on the sheriff’s door. Locked.
Completely panicked now, she pounded on the door and was greeted with silence. Her mouth went dry. “Daniel?”
The only sound continued to be the shouting and laughter from the saloon. Rosemarie moved around the building until she spotted a small window with bars. “Daniel?”
“Who’s there?”
She slumped with relief at the sound of his voice. “It’s Rosemarie. I’ve brought you some food.”
“Wait a moment. I’ll drag this cot over so I can see you.”
After a few minutes, Daniel’s face appeared in the window, bathed in moonlight. “Honey, you shouldn’t be here. The town’s in an uproar tonight. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be on the streets. And I told you it’s useless. You should be with your children.”
“I told you this afternoon I’m not giving up. And my children are fine. Well, almost fine. They all have chickenpox.”
“What?” He gripped the bars on the window. “Where are they? Who’s with them?”
She smiled. “Calm down. They’re all three at Dr. Kennedy’s house. They’re doing fine, Mrs. Kennedy tells me. The doctor doesn’t anticipate any problems with them.”
Daniel dragged his hand down his face. “Thank God.”
“I’ve brought you some food. Have they fed you?”
He shook his head. “I think the sheriff is too busy keeping the peace over at the saloon to worry about feeding a man who’s to be hung in the morning.”
“Stop saying that!” The panic in her voice surprised her. “We will get you out.”
“Darlin’, you need to face this. Captain Nelson is personally anxious to see me swing. He’s a man who doesn’t like to be made a fool of, and stealing one of his horses right from under his nose doesn’t sit well.”
“Here, take this.” Rosemarie shoved the wrapped food between the bars, her hand shaking.
“Maybe you should have brought a saw.” He chuckled.
Her eyes grew wide. “Can we do that?”
“No, Rosemarie.” He set the package down and gripped the bars again. “Don’t involve yourself in anything like that. You have three children to think about.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and Daniel reached through the bars, clasping her hand. “Please don’t come here again. It kills me to see you and not be able to touch you, to hold you. I love you, and want so much to make you my wife, to help raise your children, and be there when you birth ours.” He swallowed a few times. “But it’s not meant to be. You must leave now, see to your children, and forget our time together.”
“Never.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and shook her head. “I’ll never forget our time together. I love you, too, and refuse to believe we won’t be together again.”
Daniel smiled briefly. “Go now. I want to remember you this way, standing in the moonlight, your beautiful face looking up at me.”
“Daniel, please … ”
He jumped from the cot, disappearing from the window, and she feared, from her life.
Chapter Nine
Daniel pushed aside the package of food, and lay on the cot, his mind numb with pain. The thought of hanging in the morning was not a pleasant one, but seeing Rosemarie and the pain in her eyes overshadowed even his impending death. How he ached to hold her, comfort her. Everything he’d ever wanted in a lifetime partner, and lover, stood outside that window, a mere few feet from him. But she might as well have been on the other side of the world.
“Good night, Daniel. I love you.” Her soft voice drifted through the window before her light footsteps moved away, leaving him choking on the silence.
He sat up and hung his head, hands dangling between his bent knees. Even if he managed to escape, the only place he’d be safe was far away from Rosemarie. He could grab her and the three children and run, but with no la
nd, or a way to earn a living, he’d be condemning them all to starvation.
• • •
Heavy-hearted, Rosemarie left the jailhouse and continued on to Dr. Kennedy’s house. When Hans had succumbed to his injury back in November, she’d felt a kind of numbness, and a sense of abandonment. But certainly not this overwhelming feeling of loss, of having left part of herself behind. Panic raced through her. She had to find a way to avoid this disaster. After years of coldness from her father, and then Hans, she’d finally found a man who made her feel wanted and loved.
“Evenin’ Mrs. Wilson.” The sheriff tugged on the brim of his hat as he approached her. He stopped and placed his hands on his slim hips. “Things are gettin’ a little bit boisterous tonight, what with everyone celebratin’ the end of the war. I don’t like you out walking by yourself. Where ya headed?”
“I’m staying with Dr. Kennedy and his wife. It’s just a few blocks.”
“No matter, ma’am. I’ll walk along with you. Make sure you get where you’re headed with no problems.”
They continued on, the early spring night air pleasant against her face. “Sheriff, can you do anything to help Lieutenant McCoy? Anything at all?”
“Ma’am, I’m real sorry about your trouble, but seeing as how he’s a military man, and the charges against him are from the Union Army, there’s not a heck of a lot I can do.”
She sighed and kicked at a pebble. “Is there anything you suggest I do?”
“Maybe if you went to Camp Morton and talked to the commander?”
“No.” She turned to him. “He’s been called to Washington. Right now Captain Nelson is in charge.”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t know what else to say. You need someone higher up than Nelson.” He took his hat off, ran his fingers through his hair, and tugged it back on. “Captain Nelson sure seems to have it in for McCoy. Almost like it’s personal.”
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