Together Forever

by Jody Hedlund

  A knock on the front door halted their conversation. The knock was followed by men’s voices, one of them distinctly Drew’s, another Mr. Gray’s, and the third was the reverend’s. The butterflies in Marianne’s stomach took flight again.

  As Drew entered the room, she rose from her chair. She smoothed a hand over her silk skirt and waited for him to see her. When his gaze found her, his conversation came to an abrupt halt and his eyes widened. “You’re absolutely stunning,” he said in a winded voice.

  A laugh of delight bubbled over before she could contain it. “You look quite handsome yourself.” Wearing a dark suit coat with matching vest and tie, he was indeed dashing, especially because he’d taken the time to get a haircut and shave.

  He introduced her to the reverend, and then they all talked about how Jethro was doing and if there were any other cases of measles in the area. Finally the reverend pulled out his pocket watch. “I’m sorry to say I’m in a bit of a rush today. I have a baptism in an hour for a baby born last night out at one of the farms.”

  “Then let’s get started,” Drew said cheerfully.

  Marianne tried to tell herself that Drew’s smile wasn’t forced and his cheerfulness wasn’t strained, but she sensed something tight around the edges of him, like a drawstring pulled too tight right before it breaks.

  “Jethro’s disappointed he can’t come to the wedding,” Drew said, taking his place next to Marianne. “But when I suggested we postpone it until he’s feeling better, he grew so agitated I thought his fever would spike again.”

  She nodded, pushing at her stomach and wishing she could calm her nerves. So Drew had been attempting to find a way to postpone the wedding? “Drew, we can wait,” she whispered to him. Should she tell him she loved him right now to see what his response would be?

  “No, Marianne,” he whispered back. “There’s no reason to wait. Let’s proceed as planned.”

  Mr. Gray stood next to Drew to serve as a witness. He looked official in his stationmaster suit and hat, his beard and long mustache threaded with hints of silver. Elise had positioned herself next to Marianne and was beautiful in her emerald gown with its wide hoop skirt and velvet trim.

  As the reverend opened his book of prayers and paged through it, Drew shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Was he getting ready to bolt from the house?

  She cast him a glance at the same time that he looked at her. Once again he gave her a smile, yet it did nothing to soothe her mounting anxiety.

  The reverend cleared his throat, but before he could begin, another knock sounded on the door, this one loud and determined.

  “More wedding guests?” Elise asked, lifting her brow.

  Marianne shook her head. She and Drew had decided to keep the occasion simple with only a few people attending. Elise had originally planned to prepare a special dinner in the couple’s honor at her eating house, but now that they were quarantined, the wedding meal would be a quiet affair.

  The maid answered the door, and a man’s deep voice carried into the parlor. “I’m the sheriff from Mayfield, and I’ve come to arrest Andrew Brady for the murder of the orphan boy, Ned Colson.”

  Chapter 18

  Drew couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

  Murder? The word paralyzed him.

  The Mayfield sheriff had one hand on his pistol and the other on his handlebar mustache.

  “You must be wrong, Sheriff,” Marianne was saying. “Ned ran away on the day of the placing out. He got tired of all the people inspecting him like he was a farm animal and decided to strike out on his own.”

  The sheriff hadn’t taken his eyes off Drew from the moment he’d stepped foot in the parlor. “We had several of the orphans who were recently placed in Mayfield come into town and identify the body. Every single one said the same thing—that the boy was Ned Colson.”

  Drew’s stomach churned with the need to vomit. He swallowed hard, forcing down the bile. Ned was murdered. He hadn’t run off, hadn’t decided to hop the next train out of Mayfield. He’d been killed.

  “Even if that’s true,” Marianne protested, “Ned wasn’t murdered, and certainly not by Drew.”

  “He was murdered, all right. Found his body at the bottom of Percy’s Pond.” The sheriff’s eyes were like marbles, hard and glassy, and they were unrelenting in their appraisal of him, as if through sight alone he could discover Drew’s part in the murder.

  “What if he drowned?” Elise suggested. Drew was surprised Marianne’s sister decided to come to his defense. She’d been slow to accept him this past week, had almost seemed suspicious of him.

  Mr. Gray and the reverend remained silent observers. He didn’t blame them for not speaking up. They’d only just met him.

  “Appears the boy was hit over the head,” the sheriff continued. “Can’t be one hundred percent certain of the blow since . . . well, the body isn’t in the best shape, if you catch my meaning.”

  It had been well over a week—going on close to two weeks—since the placing-out meeting in Mayfield, the day Ned disappeared. With the warmer temperatures, the body would have begun decomposing, and the fish would have taken a toll on it. Nevertheless, if the bottom of the pond was cooler, the body might still be identifiable, along with any trauma to it.

  “And the other thing is certain,” the sheriff said without taking his eyes off Drew, “someone wanted to hide the evidence of the murder by tying a big stone to the boy. Then he wouldn’t float to the surface. I got the rope and stone retrieved as evidence.”

  “But that still doesn’t prove Drew was behind the murder,” Marianne said in a desperate tone.

  Drew wanted to comfort her and assure her everything would be all right. But one word drummed through his head over and over: murder, murder, murder . . .

  “Got some of the townspeople who’ve come forward and said they saw Mr. Brady roughing up some of the older orphan boys the morning of the reception. Say he was arguing with the boys and shoved them around a bit. That he was angry with them.”

  “He was telling them to stay out of trouble.” Marianne had sidled next to Drew. “You just wanted everyone to stay close to the church so we didn’t have anyone else wandering off and getting lost like we did with George. Right, Drew?”

  He could feel her eyes upon him, pleading with him to rise to his own defense, to say something to refute the sheriff. But Drew couldn’t look at Marianne, and he couldn’t find his voice.

  “Even if I didn’t have the townsfolk coming forward to testify to Mr. Brady’s rough treatment of the boys, I have an eyewitness to the murder.”

  Eyewitness? Drew sucked in a sharp breath.

  The sheriff nodded, watching every one of Drew’s reactions, his eyes seeming to catalog them for future reference.

  “Boy by the name of Liverpool said he saw the whole thing.”

  “Liverpool’s the witness?” Marianne gave a shaky laugh as though relieved. “I can tell you right now—Liverpool isn’t reliable. Not in the least. He’s an angry, disrespectful young man who hasn’t liked me or Mr. Brady since the moment he joined our group. If he was trustworthy, he would have come forward with his story earlier, right after the incident happened.”

  The sheriff shrugged. “His testimony matches what some of the townspeople are saying. And it’s enough for me.” Of course, it would be enough for the sheriff. The law officer had made it mighty clear when he’d confronted them during their game of hide-and-seek that he didn’t want the orphans in his town.

  The sheriff probably speculated that if he could stir up trouble with an agent from the Children’s Aid Society and cause the organization’s good name to have a blemish, then he’d be able to get more people to join him in opposing the orphans.

  Drew inwardly shuddered, but outwardly he remained calm. Maybe this was his due punishment. He hadn’t deserved to walk away free after the accident five years ago. He’d deserved to pay for his irresponsibility, for his lack of attention, and for his f
ailure to protect those who’d been in his care.

  Now he’d failed again. He’d failed to protect another one of the children in his charge. If only he hadn’t persuaded Ned to leave the Newsboys Lodging House, if only he’d left the older boys back in the city instead of being so determined to bring them along. Ned might have been in danger from his abusive father, but at least he’d still be alive.

  Marianne’s hand slid into his. Her fingers were warm against his cold flesh. “Say something, Drew,” she whispered.

  He heard the fear in her voice, felt the tremble in her hand and knew she was scared for him. He wanted to look down into her big brown eyes and reassure her he was innocent and that this was all a misunderstanding. But if he did that, he’d be a liar.

  He hadn’t been the one to tie the stone around Ned and drop him into Percy’s Pond, but he was just as guilty. By bringing him west, he’d led him to his death. Maybe if he’d been a better man, stricter and more serious like most of the other agents, he would have seen the trouble brewing, noticed signs of problems, and stepped in and done something to avoid such tragedy.

  “Mr. Brady, if you come with me peacefully,” the sheriff was saying, “then I won’t have to use this thing.” He tapped his revolver as though wanting an excuse to pull it.

  “He’s not going with you,” Marianne said. “We’re supposed to get married.”

  “My train’s leaving for Mayfield in thirty minutes, and I aim to be on it with Mr. Brady one way or another.”

  “You can’t take him,” she insisted. “He’s innocent.”

  “’Course you’re gonna feel that way, young lady,” the sheriff said tersely. “As his intended bride, you’ve got quite the bias, don’t you?”

  She protested again, and this time Elise joined her. Drew was afraid the sheriff might decide to implicate Marianne as well. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let anything happen to her.

  “Marianne,” he said, breaking into the stream of protests, “I’ll be fine. I’ll go with the sheriff, straighten everything out, and be back in a few days.”

  Her hand in his began to relax. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded and tugged her to the side of the room where they could have a semblance of privacy while he worked at convincing her to stay. “I’d go anyway to find out what happened, even if the sheriff hadn’t come for me.”

  She nodded reluctantly, her face pale and forlorn. “I want to come with you.”

  That was the last thing he wanted. He needed to keep her far away from the situation and from any chance of threat. “You can’t go anywhere right now until you know if you’re free from the measles.”

  “Please, Drew,” she whispered, clinging to him. “I’ll be so worried about you.”

  Even though he was playing unfairly, he threw out his last attempt, the only thing left that would make her stay. “You don’t want to leave Jethro, do you?”

  She was silent a moment before shaking her head and releasing a resigned breath. “Promise you’ll telegram me every day to let me know how things are going?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “And you’ll come back just as soon as you can make arrangements?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please be careful.”

  “I will.”

  She stood close enough that he could smell the lavender scent on her skin. Her breath was warm, her body willowy and supple. This beautiful, delicate woman who felt things so deeply and allowed herself to love so freely. She’d almost been his. He’d been minutes away from claiming her as his wife.

  He’d never forget her. The past month, especially the past few days . . . they were engraved on his heart forever. She was indeed a priceless treasure. But he had to let her go. Though he wanted her so desperately, he supposed a part of him had always known he wasn’t worthy, that he didn’t deserve her or the happiness they could have together. Perhaps that was why he’d been so anxious to marry her. Deep down he’d suspected that what they had together wouldn’t last, that in the end she’d be ripped away from him somehow.

  She peered up at him from behind her long lashes. Her upturned lips were an invitation.

  “Good-bye, Marianne.” He took a step away before his resolve broke and he swept her into his arms. If he did so, he wouldn’t be able to let go.

  Confusion and disappointment rippled across her face.

  His throat burned with the words he wanted to say to her. He cared about her and would until the day he died. But he couldn’t say those words now. He couldn’t offer her marriage and commitment when he had no way to offer her anything else.

  “Mr. Brady, are you coming nice-like or am I gonna have to prod you along?” At the sheriff’s words, Drew put several more steps between himself and Marianne.

  Her eyes welled with tears, and he could see she was fighting bravely to hold them back.

  He spun away before he embarrassed himself with tears of his own. He stalked past the sheriff toward the door. Only when he passed through did he glance over his shoulder for one last look at Marianne.

  She offered him a wavering smile. He captured her in an instant portrait, her beauty, her sweetness, and her strength. He tucked it into a pocket of his mind where he could easily pull it out. He had the feeling he’d need that picture of her often during the trying days and weeks to come.

  Then he pushed forward, walked out the door, and didn’t look back again.

  Three days passed without a single word from Drew. On the fourth morning, Marianne was inconsolable.

  “I’m going to Mayfield on the first train out of town today,” she said, tossing garments into her trunk and swiping tears from her cheeks. “And don’t try to stop me.”

  “I’ll telegram Reinhold and see what he can find out for us,” Elise suggested from where she stood across the bed watching Marianne, dismay creasing her forehead. Elise had already sent a telegram to the sheriff and several to Drew, yet no reply had been forthcoming.

  “How would Reinhold know anything?” Marianne said. “He’s probably out working in the fields and has no idea anything has happened. Why would he? This doesn’t involve him.”

  Marianne’s insides had turned sour like curdled milk, growing more unsettled by the day. She’d been heartbroken watching Drew walk away with the sheriff, and she’d cried in Elise’s arms for hours after he left.

  She’d told herself he would be back soon enough. He was an intelligent and persuasive man. She had no doubt that once he arrived in Mayfield, he’d clear his name and discover what really happened to Ned.

  But now, after three days, she couldn’t shake the premonition that perhaps there had been more to their parting than a simple good-bye.

  She stuffed the last dress into her trunk and then began filling her valise. “The doctor said if we haven’t shown any signs of the measles by today, then we’re free to go about our normal activities.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should race off to Mayfield the first chance you have. What if Drew is already on his way back?”

  Marianne paused and glanced out the window in the direction of the train depot. The steady tapping of rain against the windowpane and the streaks running down the glass prevented her from seeing far. The rain had moved in after Drew left, as if sensing her gloom, and hadn’t departed since. That was just fine with her. She wasn’t in the mood for sunshine and rainbows and reminders of swimming and picnics and raspberries.

  “With Thornton arriving today,” Marianne said, “you’ll be glad to have me gone. I’m sure you’ll have more important things to do tonight than try to console me.” Elise had been sleeping with her, always the strong one, the one Marianne could lean on no matter what.

  When Elise didn’t offer any protest, Marianne glanced up in time to see Elise squirm. If her sister had been a blushing woman, her cheeks would have been bright red. “You know I’ll be here for you if you need me,” Elise said and then cleared her throat. “And I’m sure Thornton will want to se
e you too.”

  Marianne lifted the music box from on top the dresser where she’d placed it. She hadn’t turned it on again since the train ride when she used it to distract Dorothea. How wrong Mutti had been to think God could give music and joy during the difficult situations, at least not for her.

  Maybe some people were born more naturally optimistic, like Drew. He could laugh effortlessly and worry so little. But for her, every heartache she’d experienced clung to her like a burr in her skirt. No amount of singing and smiling could take away the deep pain that came whenever she thought of losing Vater and Mutti. Or of how lonely, lost, and hurting Sophie and Nicholas and Olivia were.

  No amount of reassurances from Mr. Gray could chase away her worry over Jethro and her longing to be the one smoothing back his hair and kissing his hot cheek while he suffered this week.

  No amount of singing and sunshine could take away the sharp pain in her heart whenever she thought of Dorothea and wondered whether the little girl was happy or miserable in her new home.

  And of course nothing could ease the ache whenever she thought about Drew’s farewell, how sad he’d been, almost as if he’d been saying good-bye to her forever.

  “I need to go, Elise.” Marianne looked her sister in the eye. “Don’t you understand? I need to see him. I can’t function if I don’t know he’s okay.”

  Elise nodded. “Very well. I’ll buy you a ticket for the first train heading north.”

  Chapter 19

  Marianne stepped off the train in Mayfield and dashed through the steady rainfall into the depot. All she could think about was being here the last time with Drew and the children and that now she was alone.

  After she retrieved her luggage, she made arrangements for its transportation to the Mayfield Inn where they’d stayed before. She figured that was where Drew had taken a room and it would be the best place to find information of his whereabouts. But when she arrived, the hotel proprietor shook his head and pursed his lips. He recognized her from her last visit and wasn’t pleased to see her again.