The Dark and the Dawn (Kansas Crossroads Book 3)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Under all this, though, was that never-ending question—which did she want more? To be a nurse, or to love the doctor?

  ***

  “And how is Miss Peterson this morning?” Mrs. Hadley asked a few days later as Phillip entered the house.

  “She’s doing splendidly,” Phillip replied as he took off his hat and coat. “In fact, she scolded me for hovering over her and made me promise to leave for at least a few hours to attend to my other patients. I must say, I’ve never been so glad to be scolded in all my life.”

  Mrs. Hadley chuckled. “This is very good news. Why don’t I fix you a bite to eat? I’ve just pulled some bread from the oven a few minutes ago.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be in my office.”

  She chuckled again. “Of course you will. Where else would you be?”

  He was indeed a man of habit, but habits could change. Where his thoughts used to be entirely wrapped up in medicine and science, more and more often of late, they were wrapped up in a petite blonde who seemed determined to both vex and delight him at every turn. She was now up and about a little bit, sitting in a chair by the window, and it would be perhaps just a few more days before her full strength returned. It was a miracle he couldn’t discount.

  He had just entered the last of his notes into her chart and was determining which patients to go see that afternoon when he heard a knock at the door. A moment later, Mrs. Hadley came into his office, a worried look on her face.

  “Doctor, there’s a man here to see you. Says he’s the Peterson girls’ uncle.”

  Phillip’s brow furrowed. Had he known they had an uncle? Perhaps he did at one point, but it must have slipped his memory. “Send him in, Mrs. Hadley,” he said, wondering at the look on her face.

  When the man entered his office, Phillip understood immediately. This was not a kind, doting uncle who carried lollipops in his vest pocket for all the good little boys and girls. No, this man was unkind—it was evident in the way he carried himself, the expression on his face and the lines around his eyes. It was as though a cloud of darkness surrounded him, and Phillip disliked him instantly.

  “Hello,” Phillip said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. He supposed that for Jeanette’s sake, and Abigail’s too, he should be polite to this stranger. “I’m Phillip Wayment. Please, have a seat.”

  The man sat without shaking the hand Phillip had offered. “Name’s Rod Peterson. I’m looking for my two nieces, Abigail and Jeanette. Fellow out on the street there told me Jeanette works for you. That right?”

  Phillip didn’t feel inclined to answer right away. “You must have traveled a bit to get here, Mr. Peterson. Where are you from, if I may ask?”

  “I have a ranch on the border of Kansas and Colorado. Run about a hundred and eighty head of cattle. After their folks died, my nieces were supposed to come live with me on my place, but they never showed up, even though I got a letter they were comin’. First I thought somethin’ had happened to them, but then I hear Jeanette’s been workin’ for you, and that raises all sorts of questions in my mind. So, do you know my nieces or don’t you?”

  Phillip wished he knew what to say. If only Jeanette had ever opened up to him . . . He wouldn’t say or do anything that would make her uncomfortable. “Mr. Peterson, I’m afraid I’ll be of no help to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of paperwork to do this morning.” He bent his head to his desk and pulled a chart closer to him, even though his paperwork was, in actuality, done.

  A hand came down on his desk with so much force, it made his fountain pen leap off the surface and onto the floor, breaking the nib. Phillip pressed his lips together. He had liked that particular nib very much. He bent down to pick it up, using that moment to compose his features.

  “I want to know where my nieces are, Doc, and I want to know now.”

  Phillip straightened in his seat. “And I explained to you, Mr. Peterson, that I can’t help you.” He met the man’s gaze and held it until Mr. Peterson swore and turned on his heel before striding out of the building.

  Mrs. Hadley came in from the kitchen. “What on earth was that all about?”

  “I’m not entirely certain, but I do know that Jeanette’s not safe.” Phillip rose from his desk and reached for his coat. “Mrs. Hadley, please go into my nightstand drawer and bring me my holster.”

  “Your holster?” She gave him a look of shock. “But you never carry a gun, Doctor.”

  “I’ve never had a good reason to before. Now I do.”

  He grabbed his hat while he waited for Mrs. Hadley to return. He checked the gun for bullets, then fastened the holster around his hips. “I’m going to speak to the marshal while I’m gone,” he said. “Lock the door, and put something in front of it, like that end table. Look out the window before answering the door, and do not let that man back in.”

  Mrs. Hadley raised an eyebrow. “Just what exactly is going on? I’ve never seen you so riled up over something before. Did he threaten you?”

  “Not in so many words, but it was most definitely implied. As far as what’s going on, I don’t exactly know. That’s what I’m going to find out.”

  Phillip stepped outside and looked up and down the street, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that Rod Peterson was heading the opposite way from the hotel. Not bothering to grab his horse, Phillip took off at a jog. He stopped a young boy and gave him a nickel to run for the marshal. Then he resumed his rapid pace, arriving moments later at the hotel. He found Adam out front, looking at a fence post that appeared to be coming loose.

  “Adam, I need to speak with you,” he said without preamble. “I believe the Peterson girls are in danger.” He relayed what had happened, and Adam nodded.

  “I’ll let the other men know.”

  Within moments, Tom White was seated on the porch, his rifle on his knee. To the casual observer, it would look like he was cleaning it, so as not to cause alarm, but it was fully assembled and ready for use. Harry Brown was also on alert as he chopped wood in the side yard, and Adam always wore his Colt. With these precautions in place, Phillip went upstairs to find Jeanette, luckily finding Abigail there with her. He closed the door behind him as he entered the sick room, and Jeanette smiled when she saw him.

  “You were supposed to be attending your other patients today, Doctor,” she said, her voice cheery. “But . . . what’s the matter?” She frowned. “You have bad news of some sort.”

  She was already seated, so he pulled a chair over for Abigail, and he sat on the edge of the bed. “I need to speak with both of you.”

  “Is Jeanette getting sick again?” Abigail asked.

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” Phillip licked his lips and then pressed them together, his mouth suddenly dry. “I need to know about Rod Peterson.”

  Abigail’s hand flew to her throat, but she didn’t speak. Jeanette didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, but an iron mask fell across her features almost as if it had dropped from the sky. “How do you know about Rod Peterson?” she asked, her voice measured.

  Phillip looked back and forth between the two of them. “If he were to come to town . . .”

  “You mean here? Topeka?” Abigail blurted.

  “If he were to come to Topeka, what would that mean for the two of you?” Phillip asked.

  “He is here, isn’t he? That’s why you’re asking. That’s how you know about him.” Abigail stood up and began to pace the room. “It doesn’t matter—we’ll never be free of him. Never.”

  “Free of what, exactly, Abigail?” Phillip asked. When she didn’t reply, he added, “I’m only trying to help you. Please believe that I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.” He turned to Jeanette, who was now staring out the window. “Your safety is the most important thing in my life,” he whispered.

  Jeanette didn’t move for a long minute, and then she spoke. “We have to tell him, Abigail,” she said.

  “But . . .”

  “Tell him,” Jeanette insiste
d.

  Abigail sighed. “All right. But only if you’re sure. Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  Abigail crossed the floor slowly and sat back down. “You need to understand, Dr. Wayment, that we’ve never told anyone this before. You must be willing to keep our confidence.”

  He glanced at Jeanette. “I can only make that promise if I can keep you safe while harboring your secret. If I must tell it in order to preserve your lives, I’d better not make any such agreement.”

  Abigail looked uncertain, but at Jeanette’s nod, she began. “We grew up on a small farm in Missouri. It was just the two of us and our mother and father. My father was a very harsh man, often angry, and he would frequently hit my mother. From time to time, he would come after one of us as well. We grew up not knowing there was any other way to live until we started going to school and making friends and seeing how differently their fathers treated them.

  “Our father’s brother, Rod, has a ranch out near Colorado, and he sells cattle to the surrounding states. Every so often, he’d bring a herd out our way. It’s a fair distance to drive a herd, but he could get a good price, and he’d stop by and visit us for a few weeks each time he came out.”

  Abigail paused and looked over at Jeanette. “Are you sure you want me to go on?” she asked. “Maybe he doesn’t need to know.”

  “He needs to know,” Jeanette answered, her voice strangled. Phillip ached, seeing how much pain she was in. He wished he could somehow make it go away.

  Abigail took a deep breath and began again. “When Jeanette was about twelve, Rod took a liking to her. I . . . don’t mean in the regular way, Dr. Wayment. I mean, he began to have designs on her.”

  Phillip instantly felt sick. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to stay calm so Abigail could finish her story. However, it wasn’t Abigail who picked up the tale, but Jeanette.

  “One day, I was out getting some wood from the shed, and he found me in there,” she said. “He told me it was just a matter of time, and that someday, we’d be together. He grabbed my wrist when I tried to get away, and he kissed me, hard. Then he laughed and let me go, telling me I wasn’t quite ready, but I would be soon. And he’d be back.”

  “She came and told me what had happened, and we told our mother,” Abigail said. “She just looked at us with a weary expression on her face. She told us that was just the way of the world, and she never said another thing about it. Somehow, we were just supposed to accept it.”

  Phillip swallowed rapidly, trying to rid himself of the bile in his throat. “She didn’t try to protect you?” he said at last.

  “No, she never did. She was so worn down by our father, she didn’t have any courage left. I can’t really blame her, even though I do. I understand, although I’ll never fully understand.” Abigail’s words might have seemed confusing at first, but Phillip knew exactly what she meant.

  “As the years went by, Rod’s threats became more and more blatant. He even joked around with our father that he’d like to take Jeanette home with him, and our father never put him to rights. When our parents were killed in a wagon accident earlier this year, Rod offered to have us come live with him, and he even sent a message, saying that at last, we’d all be together like we were meant to be.”

  “Abigail did everything she could to protect me,” Jeanette inserted, finally turning away from the window. “She hid me in our bedroom or in the barn, she’d lie about my whereabouts, she’d sneak me over to the neighbor’s—anything she could do to keep me away from Rod. A time or two, she even stood between us. She’s always been my hero.” She smiled at her sister and reached out to take her hand. It broke Phillip’s heart to think of a young girl having to come to the defense of her sister when their parents failed them both.

  “After the funeral, our house was sold to pay off our father’s debts, and we lost almost everything we owned as well,” Abigail continued. “We were on our way out to the ranch, having nowhere else to go, and ready to die rather than living that kind of life. When the train stopped for water in Topeka, we got off, and I happened to pick up a newspaper someone had left lying on a bench on the train platform. I saw Mr. Brody’s advertisement, noticed that we were just a few yards from the hotel, and we decided to apply for jobs. We only told the slightest bit of our background, got the jobs, and we’ve been very happy here ever since.”

  “I knew we should have changed our names,” Jeanette muttered.

  “How were we to know he’d come looking for us?” Abigail stood, bent down, and wrapped her arms around her sister. “We couldn’t have known. We were doing the best we could.”

  “How did you meet him, Phillip?” Jeanette asked.

  “He came to my office. Apparently, he’d been asking questions out on the street, and someone told him you worked for me. He didn’t mention the hotel at all, and I saw him going the opposite direction when I came here. He didn’t follow me. I have all the men here on alert, though, and they’re armed.”

  “So he’s wandering around Topeka right now.” Jeanette shuddered, and Phillip wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her close, but he hadn’t been told yet if he had any right to do such a thing. He’d promised to give her time, but this wait was agonizing. Did she love him, or didn’t she? Surely it wasn’t so hard to determine how one felt.

  Although, considering her past, maybe it was very hard after all.

  He reached out and touched her hand, needing to make contact with her in some way, even something so small. She took his fingers and clung to them, and his heart swelled with hope. She might not love him at this point, but she trusted him, and that was a start.

  Phillip heard a knock, and Miss Hampton stuck her head into the room. “Dr. Wayment, the deputy marshal is here to see you.”

  Phillip nodded. “Thank you. Could you ask him to come up?”

  She seemed a bit surprised at this unusual request, but didn’t argue. “Of course. I’ll show him the way.”

  “This room just seems more private than, say, the lobby,” Phillip said by way of explanation, and Abigail nodded. Jeanette looked out the window again.

  A moment later, Deputy Marshal Gabriel Hanks stepped into the room, his hat in his hand. “Morning,” he said. “You needed to speak with me? At least, that’s what the little fellow who came for me said. It was kind of hard to understand him around the giant wad of candy in his mouth.”

  Phillip chuckled. “I wondered if he might stop by the general store on his way to find you. Yes, Deputy, I did ask to see you.”

  “I noticed the armed men all over the property. I take it they aren’t just out there for decoration.” Deputy Hanks turned and seemed to notice Abigail’s presence for the first time. “Morning, Miss Peterson. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Good morning,” she replied, her cheeks turning a little pink.

  “A man by the name of Rod Peterson came into my office a short time ago and behaved in an aggressive manner, demanding to know the whereabouts of his nieces.” Phillip nodded at the two girls in turn. “After talking to the girls, I’ve learned that this man is abusive, and they should not be forced to go with him.”

  “And you obviously feel that he’ll need to be physically stopped from taking them?” Deputy Hanks asked.

  “I do. That man is hard as nails, with a mile-wide angry streak. He feels that the girls are now his property upon the deaths of their parents, and he made it very clear to me that he has every intention of finding them.”

  Deputy Hanks shook his head. “That’s a tough one, for sure. Does he have any legal claim to the girls? Was their care and keeping willed to him, for instance?”

  “I don’t believe my father had a will,” Abigail said. “Rod just stepped forward and said he’d take us. We have no other living relatives, so it was assumed that we’d go with him without complaint.”

  “How old are you?” the deputy asked.

  “I’m nineteen, and Jeanette will be eighteen next
month.”

  “So you shouldn’t need a guardian—you’re hardly children. You’ve been earning wages here at the hotel, yes?”

  “We have. We’re self-sufficient in every way.”

  Deputy Hanks nodded. “I see no reason why he would be legally allowed to take you. Now, as far as him trying to do it anyway, I think Mr. Brody and the other man have it well in hand—and it looks like the doctor is armed too. I didn’t know you even owned a gun, Phillip.”

  Phillip touched the handle of the Colt at his side. “I know how to use one, even if I don’t do it often.”

  “I’ll keep my eye out. Let me know if anything further develops.” The deputy paused. “Anything else to report about the tuberculosis outbreak?”

  “Just the two here so far, thank goodness,” Phillip replied.

  “Glad to hear it. You’ll tell us, of course, if that changes.”

  “Of course.”

  Deputy Hanks left, with a nod for each of them.

  “Abigail, would you please get me a glass of water?” Jeanette asked, turning toward her sister.

  “Of course. Doctor, can I get you anything?”

  “Water is fine, thank you.”

  As soon as Abigail left the room, Jeanette grasped both of Phillip’s hands. “Phillip, I’m . . . I’m so scared,” she whispered.

  He couldn’t help himself. Not one force in heaven or hell could have kept him from it. He pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest, his arms encircling her. Oh, she felt so right in his embrace. “You’re safe,” he said into her hair. “Not one of us will let him anywhere near you. I swear that to you, Jeanette. On my life, I swear it.”

  She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. “I don’t want Abigail to know how scared I am. She feels so responsible for me—I can’t add to her burden.”