A Veiled Reflection

by Tracie Peterson

  “You look dead on your feet,” Mac announced, coming alongside her.

  Jillian had been so preoccupied that she’d not even seen him approach. “I am tired, but I’m okay. Are you here to eat?”

  He nodded, his dark hair falling lazily over his left eye. Jillian reached up without thinking and pushed it back. Mac’s gaze burned into her as she pulled back in embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

  “No harm done,” Mac replied. He looked as if he might say something more, but then Gwen entered the conversation.

  “Dr. Mac, have you heard any news?”

  He shook his head. “Not a word. I tried telegraphing the fort to see if they had any word for us, but so far no one’s responding.”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  “Look, if you don’t mind, I’d like to give Hope a brief examination. I just want to make sure she’s thriving,” Mac told them.

  “She’s asleep upstairs,” Jillian said, yawning. She was getting as remiss in her manners as Louisa. “I can go get her.”

  “I’ll get her, Jillian,” Gwen announced. “You look like you’re ready to fall over.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured and tried to turn her attention back to the table. She was tired—completely exhausted—but Mac’s presence was also taking its toll. It seemed like her love for him was growing stronger every day, and she worried that sooner or later she’d go and do something stupid like make a public declaration. It was bad enough that she’d just brushed his hair out of his eyes. That was the touch a mother might give her child—or the way a wife might adjust her husband’s appearance.

  “You should get some sleep,” Mac said softly.

  She smiled. “Tell that to Hope.”

  “I will,” he replied.

  Gwen arrived with the sleeping infant and held her out to Mac. “She’s a good baby for the most part. I know Jillian’s had to do battle with her at night. I figured tonight Hope could sleep with me and give Jillian a break.”

  “No!” Jillian replied, coming fully awake. “I mean, I don’t want to do that. I’m all right. Hope’s no trouble.”

  Mac and Gwen both eyed her curiously for a moment. Before turning his attention back to the baby, Mac suggested, “Perhaps, Miss Carson, you could allow Jillian to work in split shifts so that she could get some sleep during the day.”

  Gwen agreed that this was acceptable. “In fact,” she told Jillian, “why don’t you go ahead and go upstairs to bed. I’ll take care of Hope while you get some rest.”

  The thought of resting for even a short time appealed greatly to Jillian. She didn’t know why it mattered so much that she should be the one to care for Hope in the night, but for some reason, yielding the child’s care in the daylight hours didn’t seem to bother her nearly as much.

  “I’ll get myself something to drink and go upstairs,” Jillian murmured. Turning from Gwen and Mac, Jillian made her way to the kitchen. It was then that she remembered the telegram. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew the missive and opened it to read.

  With a gasp and a cry that edged on terror, Jillian backed into the cook’s assistant, sending him crashing against a stack of pots. This in turn caused the pans to fall clattering to the floor, knocking the poor man against another of the chefs, who in turned juggled a bowl of soup, only to lose the battle. Jillian reached out to help but slipped on the wet floor, and before she knew it, she had landed in a heap alongside the pots and pans.

  Mac and Gwen, along with several of the Harvey Girls, came running to see what the commotion had been about. Mac laughed when he saw that Jillian was at the center of the matter. He stopped laughing, however, when Jillian began to struggle to her feet, only to cry out and fall back down.

  “What is it?” he asked her, squatting down beside her.

  “My ankle. I think I’ve twisted it.”

  Mac reached out and pushed back her black skirt. He gently moved the foot back and forth, but when Jillian cried out, he stopped. “I’d say you’ve twisted it pretty badly. It’s already starting to swell.”

  He lifted her into his arms without giving her a chance to protest. Jillian wrapped her arms around Mac’s neck, fearful that he might drop her. He seemed completely unconcerned with her weight.

  “Miss Carson, I’ll need some ice. Will someone show me the way to Miss Danvers’ room?”

  “I can be showin’ ya,” Kate said, moving toward the back stairs. “Just come this way.” Kate hurried ahead of them, calling out, “Man on the second floor! Man on the second!” This was the rare time when anyone of male persuasion was allowed to venture into the sanctity of the Harvey Girls’ quarters.

  Jillian had never known such humiliation. She struggled between the desire to cry and the overwhelming urge to laugh. Laughter seemed to be a good way to cover up her embarrassment, but spying the telegram she still clutched in her hand, laughter was the furthest thing from her mind.

  Kate opened the door to their room and quickly checked the covers and bedding before Mac deposited Jillian on the bed.

  “I’ll be fine, really I will,” she said in protest as Mac directed Kate to remove Jillian’s shoe and stocking on her right leg.

  Kate wouldn’t hear any protest from her friend. She quickly and discreetly released Jillian’s garter and slipped the stocking down, then pulled her shoe off, taking the stocking with it.

  “Here’s the ice,” Gwen announced, bringing in a large bowl. “I’ve also brought some cloth to pack it in.”

  “Good thinking,” Mac replied. He went to Jillian and grinned. “You do have a way of getting yourself into trouble, don’t you.”

  “If you only knew the half of it,” Jillian muttered and fell back against her pillow. How in the world could she ever explain this one to him? From downstairs, Hope began to cry and Jillian attempted to get up.

  “Stay where you are,” Mac half growled at her. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “But the baby—” “Miss Carson or one of the other girls can see to the baby.”

  “If you don’t need us,” Gwen said, “Kate and I will do just that.” Jillian thought to protest but figured she’d have to face Mac sooner or later with the truth. Maybe now would be the perfect time. Perhaps he’d have more sympathy for her since she was hurt.

  “Mac, there’s something I need to tell you. Ow!” she exclaimed as he manipulated her foot.

  “It isn’t broken, but it’s going to hurt pretty fierce for a day or two. You’re going to have to take it easy and stay off of it for a while.”

  “But I can’t. I have a job to do, and then there’s Hope. . . .”

  “You’ve gotten yourself pretty attached to that little girl, haven’t you?” he questioned, looking her straight in the eye.

  “Well, she’s . . . she needs me and I . . . think she’s special.”

  Mac nodded. “She is and so are you. Mary was right to give her over to your care.”

  “I sure hope Mary is all right,” Jillian murmured, momentarily forgetting about her confession.

  “I’m sure she is.” Mac propped the leg up with a pillow, then proceeded to pack ice in cloth and place it around Jillian’s swollen ankle. “We have to trust God to watch out for Mary. Now, you want to tell me what this is all about? What happened down there?”

  “Well, it’s just that . . . you see . . .” Jillian fell silent. This wasn’t going to be easy to explain. She’d brought all of her troubles on herself; having to admit her actions to Mac was more than a little overwhelming. “I did something really foolish.”

  He looked at her oddly, then pulled up the rocking chair she had been using while caring for Hope. “I can see I’m probably in for a pretty big ordeal. Maybe I should sit down.”

  She nodded. “I don’t know where to begin, but first, you have to know how sorry I am.”

  “I hate it when folks start out like that,” Mac said apprehensively. His eyes narrowed as his right brow raised and his voice low
ered. “Jillian?”

  Jillian bit at her lower lip and nodded. “It’s really not all that bad—maybe you’ll even find it amusing.” She laughed nervously.

  “So you’d best get to explaining.”

  Jillian fell back against her pillow and sighed. “My mother has been pestering me ever since I came to Pintan. She has this earl in mind for me to marry, and she kept writing about having him come here.”

  “And now he’s coming here, is that it?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head from side to side. “I told my mother there was someone else. Someone here in Pintan. I told her not to bother with the earl because I was already in love.”

  “I see,” Mac replied, easing back in the chair. He crossed his arms and looked at her curiously. “Did she buy it?”

  “Not at first.” Jillian tried to think of how best to break the news. “She kept talking about coming here with the earl. I just couldn’t stand any more of it. You have to understand, she’s done this to me ever since I came of age. It’s her desire to see her daughters married off to wealthy men with titled backgrounds.”

  “So what did you do to convince her that she shouldn’t send him here?”

  Jillian licked her lips, but her mouth was so dry that it did little good. “I told her I was engaged to be married.”

  Mac laughed. “I’ll bet that put her plans to send the earl here to a grinding halt.”

  “It did, only now my mother and father are coming to Pintan to meet my fiance . They don’t like that I’ve gone behind their backs and gotten myself engaged, but because I’ve described such a wonderful man, they’ve agreed to come and consider him as a potential son-inlaw.” “I see.”

  “No, you don’t,” Jillian replied, feeling absolutely horrible. She wanted to crawl into the cracks between the hardwood floor panels. “It isn’t that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re going to be here in three days.”

  “So?” He looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.

  “So we have a real problem here.”

  “We?” he questioned, shaking his head. “Why we?”

  She had no other recourse but to just lay out the truth. “Mac, I told them I was engaged to you.”

  He looked at her in stunned silence for a moment, then began to chuckle. Only he didn’t just chuckle. Soon he was nearly howling with laughter. “Oh, that’s a good one, Jilly.”

  He’d never called her that before, and somehow the nickname only made her feel worse. It suggested an intimacy that she would have cherished under different circumstances.

  “I’m sorry, Mac. I didn’t think it would ever come to this. But now they’re on their way—or soon will be. I didn’t even read the entire telegram. I feel just awful. I know I shouldn’t have lied, but I was already steeped in deceit. Telling them about you seemed to be easy enough and, I thought, harmless.”

  “Well, there’s just one thing to do about it,” Mac told her, sobering rather quickly.

  “What?” The word was barely a whisper, she was so nervous.

  “I’ll just have to ask you to marry me and you’ll just have to say yes, and when your folks step off the train, we’ll greet them like any other loving couple.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Jillian questioned, incredulous. “Oh, but Mac, I couldn’t ask you to do that. That goes beyond friendship.”

  “And right into matrimony,” he said with a grin. “So what about it? Will you marry me, Miss Danvers?”

  “But we can’t just keep on lying. I promised Gwen I would not deceive her anymore. I just can’t continue to lead everyone on like this.”

  Mac took hold of her hand. “So don’t make it a lie. We can always call it off later.” His expression caused her heart to beat faster as he added, “Or not.”

  “Not a lie?” she questioned weakly. How she wished he were serious. Mac grinned. “Not at all. Folks get engaged and unengaged a lot out here. We can cross that bridge later. It might be fun to be engaged to you. Who knows where it might lead us? After all, we like each other, right?”

  He sounded so enthusiastic that Jillian began to see the possibilities. “I don’t know, Mac. It wouldn’t really be right, would it?” Though her mind was hesitant, her heart pleaded with her to be convinced.

  “We’re the two who are getting engaged,” he said softly. “We know the truth of the matter, and we’ll work on it as we go.”

  Jillian saw no other way out. Her father would descend upon them both, no matter what she did. And if he came all the way to Arizona on a farce, he would be livid.

  “But what will we do once we convince them we’re engaged? I told them we were going to marry right away.”

  Mac shrugged. “Don’t borrow trouble. Maybe we’ll have a hideous fight and break if off after they get here. Or maybe—” “But you don’t know my father,” she interrupted. “He’s used to having his way about things. He might force me to return to Kansas City.”

  “Jillian, you’re a grown woman, fully of age. You have a way to make a living for yourself and a good head on your shoulders. Why not just stand up to your father respectfully and let him know how you feel? He sounds like the kind of man who appreciates honesty and strength.”

  “Both qualities that I seem to sorely lack,” Jillian moaned.

  Mac laughed. “Just answer my question and we can get on with this. Will you marry me?”

  Jillian’s heart ached. How she would love to hear Mac ask that question for real. “Yes,” she murmured. “But I still don’t see how we’re going to pull this off. After all, the entire town knows us and knows that we aren’t engaged.”

  “We’ll get that resolved real quick. After all, what are small towns good for if not spreading gossip? Besides, we really are engaged now. I just asked and you just accepted.” He smiled, seeming quite pleased with the outcome of this situation.

  Just then Gwen returned to check on Jillian’s condition. “Will she be all right? Is it broken?”

  Mac grinned at Jillian, then met Gwen’s concerned look. “No, it’s not broken. It’s just a sprain. She’ll have to stay off of it for a few days.” He stood up and struck a roguish pose. “Oh, by the way, we want you to be the first to know that we’re engaged to be married.”

  FIFTEEN

  MAC FOUND HIMSELF WHISTLING a lot over the next couple of days. The idea of being engaged to Jillian Danvers was just fine by him. Now his only problem was how to change their make-believe situation into reality.

  He had thought himself resigned to a life of solitary existence, until meeting Jillian. The idea of marriage had never appealed to him, given his past and the tragedy that haunted him. But Jillian had a way of making him forget the past, even as she awakened in him memories of love and joy.

  However, he never would have allowed himself to consider marriage to Jillian had she not spoken of her love of the territory and of the desire to remain here rather than return to Kansas City. No one would be forcing her into a life in the middle of nowhere, for she had already chosen it for herself. She had come to love this arid, sagecovered land. Now if only she could come to love him as well.

  Sitting on a chair outside his front door, Mac worked at sharpening a knife on a whetting stone as this thought played in his head: The entire town thinks she’s mine. Even Jillian doesn’t seem to mind the idea, but then again, she’s trying to hide from the lie she’s told her parents. A lie that seemed to draw everyone into plans for their wedding. Images of Jillian smiling up at him from behind a wedding veil made his heart race a little faster. He whistled and contemplated what his next move should be.

  “Congratulations, Doc,” one of the town’s old-timers called. “Heard you was getting’ hitched up with one of them Harvey gals. Sure are the purtiest thangs I ever saw.”

  “Thanks, Zeke. I have to agree with you,” Mac replied, then put his attention back to the knife. He glanced up to ask Zeke how his rheumatism was acting when a cloud of du
st on the horizon caught his attention.

  “Riders are a’comin’,” Zeke said as Mac realized it for himself.

  Mac went inside and deposited the knife and stone. Hopefully the riders would include Zack Matthews and Mary Barnes. The entire town had been on edge since word had come about the school being burned down. It hadn’t been that long since the government had arrested neighboring Hopi men for interfering with their children being educated in the white man’s schools. Those men had been taken to Alcatraz Prison in the San Francisco Bay. The government officials believed this would be a very visual lesson to others who might protest, but it hadn’t worked. Mac could have told them that it wouldn’t. The Navajo and Hopi would rather die than rob their children of their heritage and culture.

  Mac returned to the street to watch the riders draw near. It became clear that a company of soldiers were approaching, along with six or seven mounted Navajo men. The Navajo had been bound and tied to their mounts with leg-irons that looped under the bellies of their horses from one ankle to the other. Bear sat proudly at the head of the group. He looked neither left nor right as the soldiers brought him into town.

  Not far behind this group of riders came Mary Barnes and Zack Matthews. They looked very unhappy, but none the worse for their two-and-a-half-day adventure.

  Mac hailed Zack and Mary. “Anybody hurt?”

  “Nothing too bad,” Zack declared. “Frankly I’m surprised, given the stubbornness of both sides.”

  Mary nodded. “They act worse than a bunch of children.”

  “You doing all right, Mary?” Mac questioned, seeing the weary expression on her face. Dirt caked the wrinkles in her skin, and her hair poked out in odd directions from the haphazard bun on her head.

  “I’ve had better days,” the old woman admitted. “How about 163 you?”

  Mac smiled. “I’m not too bad off, considering.”

  Zack watched the soldiers as they headed for his jail. “I’ve got to get down there. They’re going to put this bunch in my jail while they go out and find the others. They believe there to be about twenty altogether who either plotted or actually carried out the destruction of the school.”