At the clinic that morning they first saw a farmer with a broken foot. He had been stepped on by one of his cows. Dr. Hampton set it with his usual patient, easy manner. Next was a young boy with a cough, who was prescribed rest. Lastly came one of the wheat buyers, who simply had a case of too much rum.
Sarah was impressed with Victoria. She was a natural caretaker. She was kind, compassionate, and listened to all of the patients and their concerns. Once they had set up the room, Sarah would fetch Dr. Hampton, who would confirm or prepare a new diagnosis. Victoria presented the facts to him in a straightforward, accurate manner.
Sarah sighed. Victoria and Dr. Hampton would have made as wonderful a team as she and Albert had. This, however, was Victoria’s life, not a repeat of her own.
She was pulled from her reverie as the object of Victoria’s affections strode through the door. Callum’s presence caught everyone’s notice. He had that way about him. However their attentions soon turned to the woman who hung onto his shoulder.
“Betty?” Sarah ran to her friend.
“What happened?” asked Victoria, as Dr. Hampton gestured for Callum to take Mrs. Johnson into the examining room.
“I came downstairs for breakfast and she was lying on the floor,” said Callum. “Perhaps she fainted?”
“Fainted?” exclaimed Sarah. “She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”
“She has a fever,” said Dr. Hampton. “Do you know where her husband is?”
“Probably at the diner,” said Callum.
“That’s a nice way of putting it,” remarked Sarah as Callum went off to collect him.
He found Mr. Johnson in his usual place at the end of the bar. When Callum told him he was needed at the doctor’s office for his wife, Mr. Johnson looked astounded. Mrs. Johnson, in the doctor’s office? Never. It took another few minutes for Callum to convince him to come.
When he came back, Mr. Johnson in tow, Callum found them all looking over Mrs. Johnson. He and Mr. Johnson stayed out of their way. Callum watched Victoria. She gave the same loving care, with smiles and reassurance, as she had with Archie, although with a patient she was a little more efficient and straightforward.
When she bent over Mrs. Johnson, he couldn’t help but noticed the way her skirts tightened over her backside, and — he realized Dr. Hampton, for all his professionalism and concern for his patient — was taking in the same view. The jealousy that reared up inside him was unlike anything he’d felt before. Possessiveness took hold of him and he restrained himself from saying anything to the man.
Suddenly Mrs. Johnson woke up, starting to cough and Callum felt ashamed at his thoughts, although the possessiveness remained.
“What in the heavens…” her voice was weak, but it was there.
“You fainted,” said Dr. Hampton. “I think you may be coming down with something. How have you felt lately?”
“Tired, but that’s not unusual.”
“Well, you need to take care of yourself. I think you’re overdoing it. Perhaps Mr. Johnson may need to take on some of your duties around the boardinghouse.”
That certainly captured Mr. Johnson’s attention.
“Do you hear that?” Mrs. Johnson said with a weak smile. “You may have to work, Tom. Good heavens, whatever shall we do. We may lose all our boarders within a week.”
“Have no fear, Mrs. Johnson, we’ll all understand,” said Callum.
“Well you’re a dear,” she said. “As for the others, well, we’re lucky there really isn’t anywhere else for them to go.” She managed a weak laugh.
Dr. Hampton asked them all to leave as he continued his treatment. Victoria shut the door behind them as she ushered them out.
“I had better go,” said Callum. “I’ll be back to check on her though. Will you be here?”
“Here or at the house,” said Victoria. “I shall watch for you.”
They shared a smile as he put on his hat, tipped it at her and opened the door. Something had changed, Victoria realized. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she liked the feeling.
She felt as if this day would pass very slowly as she waited for his return.
Callum saddled his horse and took the slow route back to the depot. The more he tried to push away this attraction for Victoria, the stronger it got. What did that mean for the two of them? He couldn’t drag her back to Scotland, and ultimately, that was where home was for him, wasn’t it? He was to be the chieftain of his land. That was the destiny that had been laid out for him since childhood.
But was that the right path for him? He liked it here, in the new world, in Fort Qu'Appelle. He enjoyed working with the North-West Mounted Police and with Angus. He didn’t like the reason he was here, but the people and the place were growing on him.
And Victoria. She had gotten to him. He realized that when he woke up in the morning. He thought about her, when he might see her, or how he could arrange a reason to see her. And she seemed happy when he came around.
One thing was for sure — he had to decide soon. If he was going home, he would have to split it off with her, and quickly, before an attachment continued to grow. Otherwise, it wasn’t fair, to her, or to himself too, he realized.
The Duke of Lansingberg stared around him in disgust. They called this a train station? Dust filled the air, and everywhere he looked was bare, flat land. The only building he could see was the shed that passed for a train station. Stagecoaches lined the side of the tracks, waiting to carry passengers to their destinations. A few poorly clad farmers and their wives milled around, searching out faces of family members among the newly arrived. But no one was here waiting for him. He was on his own mission.
Edward Travers III finally appeared beside him. He shared in the Duke’s dislike of the plains before them. The two didn’t get along well, but their common interest and shared goals forced them to rely on one another for the future. It had been a silent and stilted journey and both were glad to soon be on the return portion of the trek.
The morning of what was to be the wedding of Victoria Brighton and the Duke of Lansingberg had been one the attendees at the estate would remember for a long time to come. Victoria had retired early the evening before — not surprising considering she had made very clear to anyone who asked what her thoughts were on the wedding.
Mary advised everyone the next morning that Victoria’s stomach was in knots and not ready for breakfast, but that she was preparing herself for the wedding to come. She wanted only Mary to help her.
Finally, at noon, an hour before the ceremony was to begin, Mary timidly stepped into the dining hall. When she looked at the two intimidating men in front of her, she lost all color in her face. Finally she stammered out the words that Victoria was gone.
Neither of them could believe it. They rushed upstairs to see that, indeed, Victoria was nowhere to be found. They organized a search, and looked everywhere for her, to no avail.
The Duke was livid when he found out that Mary had slipped away in the commotion. Victoria had arranged everything for her, including an escape plan and a placement as a lady’s maid at another home just a day’s ride away.
Edward hired an investigator to find Victoria. For weeks he heard nothing, and contacted lawyers about what should happen if Victoria was to be declared dead — would he be considered next of kin and receive her funds? The answer was no. John Brighton had stipulated that if Victoria should pass away unmarried and before her 21st birthday, all of her inheritance would go to her aunt, John’s sister Sarah.
Finally he heard back from the investigators.
Crews of all of the ships had been interviewed. When the Parisian had returned to Liverpool, bribes to sailors determined that yes, a woman matching Victoria’s description had traveled on the ship, disembarking in Quebec City.
The Duke and Edward had conferred on their next steps. Should they hire someone to find Victoria and bring her back? However knowing Victoria, her wit, and stubbornness, they finally determined the
only way to truly satisfy themselves of the mission’s success was to go themselves. Both were determined to travel, as neither trusted the other and each of them had so much invested. They booked passage on a ship bound for the Americas the following week. They were nearly a month behind Victoria, but hoped to catch up with her and track down her eventual destination.
Then fortune smiled upon the pair.
The Duke of Lansingberg was playing poker at his favorite gambling hall. He was losing, and badly.
“I believe that is all for me,” he said, pushing back his chair. “You’re welcome, gentlemen.”
“Thank you, Mr… say what was your name again?” asked a newcomer to the hall.
“The Duke of Lansingberg,” he replied, looking down his nose at the man, incredulous that he should not know who he was.
“The Duke of Lansingberg!” exclaimed the man. “I’ve heard of you before.”
“Is that so?” replied the Duke, an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, your girl left you, nearly at the altar, ran away to the Americas.”
One of the regulars elbowed the man, trying to warn him to keep from rousing the Duke’s anger.
“And whom did you hear this from?”
“Well, in a letter from my cousin, Gilbert. He told me all about the girl. She’s living in the prairie town and is friends with his wife. She sounds like quite the beauty but…” The man began to stumble over his words and his friend stared in wonderment as the Duke crouched low, his brows knit together and his anger simmering on the surface of his icy blue eyes. “Umm,” the man stammered, “I am sure she’s a handful of trouble. All the men in town have designs on her. You must feel fortunate not to be tied down.”
“This sounds like an interesting story,” said the Duke. “Come with me please.”
“With you?”
“Yes, I have someone I would like you to meet.”
After some convincing and promise of a satisfying payment for information, the man accompanied the Duke to Travers’ home.
He and Edward had questioned the man to no end. He didn’t have much more information, besides the name of the town — Fort Qu'Appelle. He said a train across the country from the ship’s landing point would take them nearly all the way there.
“Of course, Victoria would choose the place that required the most difficult path to get there,” grumbled Edward.
And now here they were, in the dust of the Troy station. They had spoken little on the long journey west, over the ocean and the land. They had their eye on Victoria’s fortune, and they wouldn’t let anything keep them from it this time. Not after all they had done to gain it.
Edward had arranged for a minister to be prepared to meet them in town and marry Victoria and the Duke as expediently as possible. He would allow them have a wedding night, and then back to England they would go — with the inheritance split, as promised, between him and the Duke.
Yes, this was a costly journey. But it would all be worth it soon.
Callum leaned back in his chair in front of the desk of Angus McLaren, his legs crossed in front of him. Angus’s eyebrows drew together. He was interested, but curious.
“How could I have missed this? They have been in plain sight for months.”
“I missed it as well and I was living with the men. It was Victoria Brighton who caught on.”
“Well, the lovely lass seems to have more than just her looks going for her, I’ll say that.”
“I agree,” said Callum with a smile.
They were prepared to make a plan when the door opened.
“Sergent McLaren?”
“Aye?” Angus said to the constable who had just arrived.
“There seems to have been an issue at the train station in Troy. All is cleared up now, but I just wanted you to know.”
“What happened?”
“Well, a couple of men were in an awful hurry, and when the stagecoach wouldn’t leave on time, you see it was waiting for more passengers, the men pulled a gun on the driver. I only just heard this from Sergeant MacDonald from Troy. He sent me the message to relay to you. He caught up to the stagecoach and stopped the men. The driver was frightened and is not pressing charges, so he took the gun and allowed them to be on their way. However, they’re on their way to Fort Qu’Appelle. They should be arriving in town anytime.”
“And who are these men?”
“They’re Englishmen, sir. They said they would not be in town long, only long enough to find a priest for the one man to be married. Something about a runaway.”
Callum sat up, suddenly alert to the conversation.
“Did ye catch their names?”
“No, but one was a Duke.”
“I must go. I’ll be back to finish this as soon as I can. Good day gentlemen.”
With that, Callum threw his hat on his head and went flying out the door. He ran to his horse, quickly throwing on the saddle and mounting it. He sent his horse into a gallop, intent on reaching Victoria as soon as he could. He didn’t know what he’d do when he arrived, but he knew he had to reach her before her stepfather and this duke.
16
Victoria was exhausted. She had finally made it back home after tending to Mrs. Johnson. Her feet hurt, and she needed a hot bath and a change of clothes so badly. There were times she admitted to herself that she missed having a lady’s maid and people to attend to her — like this moment, when she was drawing her own bath. She had just undressed down to her chemise when she heard voices downstairs.
“Sarah Carter! Where is she?”
Victoria’s body went rigid as she recognized that voice. No, but it couldn’t be. Edward Travers III could not be here, in Fort Qu'Appelle, in her aunt’s kitchen. How could he be? There was no one left in England who knew where Sarah lived, or where Victoria had gone. She heard him again. It wasn’t a nightmare. He was here — her “guardian” for another month. And he was here to collect his ward.
Sarah was arguing with Edward, and soon heard a third voice chime in — cold, rigid, but very commanding. Oh no. He was here too. She threw on a discarded gray dress from the day before, forgoing all of her regular undergarments. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Charlie’s voice join the argument. She would never have left Aunt Sarah alone but she would be fine with Charlie.
Well, she thought, as she dangled her foot out the windowsill, here we go again.
She had come halfway around the world, and here she was, caught in the very same predicament, running away from the two men who threatened to destroy her future.
Only this time was different. This time she wasn’t running to somewhere — she was running to someone. She had to find Callum. He could help. He would help. No matter his feelings, he would be there for her, he’d proven that before. He was a man that could be counted on, that she knew to be a fact. Just as she was helping him with his situation, they would figure out her predicament together.
This time there was no lattice. Victoria swung her foot over the ledge, hoisting herself overtop of the flowerpots that bordered her window. Her fingers gripped the edge as she struggled to find a hold for her feet. She thought perhaps she could wedge her toes into the brick — she hadn't had time to put on shoes — but the edges weren’t deep enough. She looked beneath her. If she could swing herself from the ledge she may be able to reach the drainpipe attached to the corner. Or possibly shimmy her way down where the terrace jutted out…
“Need a hand?” His voice warmed her every time she heard it, but this time the feeling of relief washed over her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes that dangled towards the ground. She looked down and saw him standing there, grinning up at her with his hands on his hips.
“Quite the view from down here!”
“This is not a time to joke!” Victoria scolded him. “Edward and the Duke are inside right this instant. In no time they shall be upstairs for me I must leave!”
“Well then let’s go,” he drawled.
“But h
ow do you suppose — can you catch me?”
“Of course I can catch you. Have a little faith and let go.”
She took a breath, looked down at Callum to judge her landing, with a “Here I come!” she let go and landed in his arms with an “oomph.”
“Well milady,” he said, “away we go.” He lifted her onto Ansgar and climbed behind her. Flicking the reigns, he pushed the horse into a gallop. “Hang on.”
Victoria gripped the horse’s mane in her fingers, as she felt Callum holding the reins around her body. It was the perfect place to be, but she didn’t fool herself. They couldn’t stay on the horse forever. Where would they go, what would they do? The wheels in her mind churned as she thought of the possibilities.
Before she chose her path, though, she had to know what Callum wanted. Would they be running from the Duke together, or would she continue running alone? All her life she never wanted to be with anyone, she just wanted the comfort of friends and family. Yet here he was. There was something about his heart, his laughter, the warmth of his smile and his compassion for others that drew him to her.
She couldn’t imagine him leaving. In such a short time he had made a huge imprint on her life and she didn’t know what it could look like without him now. But she would only stay with him — wherever he went — if he really and truly wanted her.
They raced over fields, past houses and one of the lakes. She had no idea where they were going, but Callum and Ansgar were focused on a path ahead. Finally they slowed as they reached a settlement of log houses.
“Where are we?” Victoria said breathlessly as Callum swung off the saddle and reached up for her.
“‘Tis Lebret.”
“Lebret? What are we doing here?”
“There’s a priest here — Father John. Angus told me about him. He has a small chapel here.”
“A priest!? What do we need a priest for? ” She looked down at him, her eyes wide, her hair spilling down her back. Her cheeks were flushed and the way she looked at him right now….
“We’re getting married.”
Quest of Honor Page 27
