Kendrick

by Zina Abbott

  Throwing the door open, Kendrick paused for a second at the sight of Lydia holding Madeline while Charlotte fed her with a spoon and Caroline poured milk into a cup. My kitchen has been taken over by a gaggle of females. Funny thing was, the situation did not really bother him. Ever since he got Madeline, he rather liked it. “Morning, ladies. Sorry I don’t have time to visit, but I need to hurry and change so I can get on the road.” He nodded as he rushed toward the door leading to his bedroom—more Madeline’s boudoir than his room now.

  Madeline caught sight of him and squealed, sending a spray of milk down her front. She held her arms out to Kendrick, the fingers on her little hands opening and closing.

  Charlotte grabbed a rag and began to wipe the baby’s face and chest. “Now, Madeline, I know you’re happy to see your papa, but you’re making a mess. Aren’t you glad we put a bib on you?”

  Caroline raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, yes. We are.”

  Instinctively, Kendrick side-stepped with the intent to lean forward and kiss Madeline’s cheek. He stopped short with the realization that doing so would place his head next to—perhaps touching—Lydia’s soft and appealing bosom. Just in time, he aborted his original plan and settled for patting his baby girl on her head. “You be good for Mrs. Meyer, sweetheart. Papa needs to leave, but he’ll return soon.

  Lydia looked up from the kitchen chair while she held Madeline. The baby had fallen asleep after the twins fed her breakfast. The door to the meat shop now stood open. While Caroline used the new broom and swept the floor on what was becoming known as Madeline’s side of the rail, Charlotte had started hauling in the other kitchen chair, the diaper carpetbag, and the foodstuffs for Madeline. They worked together to move the table through the door. With the crib and rocking chair in the bedroom, Lydia would wait until Kendrick appeared once more before asking him or the girls to help her move the last pieces of furniture she needed to take care of the baby.

  As the bedroom door opened, her head turned. Catching sight of Kendrick almost took her breath away. She had realized from the start, even wearing work clothes and his face not cleanly shaved, he was a handsome man. Now, with him dressed in black wool trousers showing no wear and a wool jacket of the same color, his appearance caused her heart to nearly beat out of her chest. Even his white muslin shirt with a black silk neck scarf tied in a neat bow under its fold-down collar appeared new. How unlike his usual wardrobe of yellowed work shirts adorned with pale, rust-colored stains—proof that not all the blood he dripped on them washed out. She felt her cheeks heat at the sight of his clean-shaven face which enhanced the appearance of his dark eyes. He had even brushed his gray slouch hat and fitted a new ribbon band around where the brim joined the crown.

  Lydia swallowed and struggled to find her voice. “You look very professional, Mr. Denham—a man to be taken seriously. I suspect you will enjoy success in discovering what you need to know about Madeline.”

  Kendrick offered her a wry smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Meyer. I feel like I’m dressed in a costume. It’s been years since I’ve worn some of these clothes.” He huffed and tugged at the end of his tie. The neat bow he fashioned with the two-inch wide double-width silk wrapped around his neck twice before being tied in a bow in front fell loose. He pulled at the knot and then slid the entire thing from beneath his collar before he rolled it around his hand and shoved it inside his coat pocket. He reached up and unfastened the top button on his shirt. “I’ll put it back on once I arrive in Sonora and hope for the best that I tie the bow right. For now, I can’t face making that trip trussed up like a turkey.”

  Lydia lowered her head to hide her smile. Having come from, and having married into, a long line of farmers, she had heard that sentiment more than once. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Mr. Denham. Once you arrive, you might want to shake the road dust off your coat before you start talking to people. However, if the weather doesn’t become too warm, I would advise you to wear it, at least on your journey to Sonora, to help keep your shirt clean.”

  Wearing a smile, Kendrick turned to Lydia. “That’s a good thought, Mrs. Meyer. I’ll get this furniture moved for you, and—” his words were cut off by Charlotte speaking.

  “Excuse us, Mr. Denham. We need to move the crib up front…”

  “…and then we better sit by our tree and read our world history assignment, because…”

  Charlotte shook her head and rolled her eyes. “…it’s going to be tough to understand and remember everything to Mama’s satisfaction…”

  “…and we sure can’t do it when we’re distracted by a beautiful little baby like Madeline.”

  Lydia smiled as she watched the girls push past Kendrick and begin moving the crib. As soon as they cleared the doorway with it, he entered the room and quickly came out carrying the rocking chair. Once everyone but she and the baby left the kitchen, she stood and carried a sleeping Madeline into the front room where she carefully placed her in her bed.

  As Lydia stroked the curls on the baby’s head, she turned to her nieces, who blew silent kisses—first to Madeline, and then to her—before they disappeared out the back door.

  Lydia followed Kendrick as he walked to the front door. He unlocked it before he handed the key to her. “I don’t know if Jeb Cardwell will come by today or not, Mrs. Meyer. He knows I intend to be gone until later. I think you’ll be all right here until I return. Fix whatever food you find for your meals.”

  Lydia accepted the key with a smile. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. If I run into trouble, I know my nieces will help me.” Her gaze met his. “Do you plan to say anything about what you discovered in the false bottom of her trunk?”

  Kendrick shook his head. “No. However, I do hope to find out if anyone else is aware of Madeline’s mother’s history. I want to make sure no one can come along and threaten to take her away.”

  He plans to keep her. Filled with a sense of relief and exhilaration, Lydia, unable to tear her gaze from the man before her, inhaled deeply and once again smiled. “I wish you a safe and informative trip to Sonora and back, Mr. Denham.”

  Chapter 17

  A fter thoroughly scrubbing Kendrick’s kitchen floors and walls that morning during Madeline’s morning nap, Lydia finished fastening the second safety pin into Madeline’s fresh diaper when heard the kitchen door to the outside creak open. Her forehead wrinkled as she turned toward the noise. To her, it did not sound like the twins entering. If their mother was not around, they usually burst into the room with a flourish, the sound of their voices preceding their physical presences.

  Madeline must have also heard the door, for, not waiting for Lydia to slide on a fresh pair of knit soakers, she sat up, turned her head in the direction of the kitchen, and squawked in her baby voice. She extended an arm and worked her fingers.

  Lydia suspected Madeline assumed Charlotte and Caroline had come calling. She grew worried that something, or someone, else entered the kitchen. Feeling panic rise within her, she cast her gaze around the room in search of a weapon. Spying Kendrick’s meat cleaver hanging high on the wall behind his counter, Lydia picked up Madeline. She raced toward the cleaver and grabbed it, surprised at the weight of the tool. She hid it in the folds of her skirt as she ran back to the doorway and stopped just short of someone in the kitchen being able to see her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the opening between the two rooms and turned.

  Lydia barely registered the presence of Will before he ran to her, his arms outstretched. She quickly reached her hand holding the meat cleaver above her head before Will threw himself at her and wrapped his arms around her.

  His body shaking with sobs, Will buried his face in his mother’s gown just above her waist.

  Lydia reached down to Will’s head with her free hand and clutched him to her. “What’s wrong, Will? Are you ill?” Beneath her fingers, Lydia felt her son shake his head.

  Between gulping sobs, Will stuttered out his words. “Pl-please don’t make me g-go to s-school anymore, M
ama. Aunt Dorcas is too mean. I want to stay here with you.”

  Lydia removed her hand from his head long enough to transfer the cleaver so she could drop the tool into the dishpan. She pried Will’s hands free and stooped down until her face was on the same level as his. She sucked in a breath and wrinkled her brow upon seeing a pink welt on his forehead. “What happened, Will?”

  “Aunt Dorcas got angry at me because…because I didn’t know how to multiply numbers. She said I was being stupid on purpose, but I wasn’t, Mama. Cole learned about multiplying numbers in our old school, but I didn’t. I only learned adding and taking away. And…and then she said, I was being bad on purpose because I wetted the bed at night, and she would not let me act like that in her school, but I wasn’t being bad, Mama. I told her, I don’t wet on purpose, it just happens while I sleep, and she said, I do it on purpose. Then she hitted me with her ruler, and then Cole stood up and said to stop hitting me because I never learned multiplying, and I don’t wet on purpose, and then she hit Cole on the head and told him to go to our room. Then I ranned away.” Will’s body shuddered as he sobbed. “Please don’t make me go back, Mama.”

  Blinking away her tears, Lydia looked up to see the twins standing in the doorway. Both of them wore expressions of concern.

  Caroline swallowed and exhaled a shaky breath. “We didn’t know what happened, Aunt Lydia, only that he ran out of the house crying and asked for you…”

  “…so, we showed him how to get through the back way. He better return to the house soon, or Mama will be even more angry—”

  “He’s not going back.” Her body shaking, Lydia stood once more and pressed Will to her side. “She hit my boys with her ruler. Five years—five miserable years—I sat in a classroom with her as my teacher. She had a ruler then—that one was only a foot long. She waved it around and smacked the wall or a desk now and again to frighten us or get our attention, but she never hit any students. If she had anything against me, she waited until we got home before she lit into me.”

  Ignoring the complaining squeaks coming from Madeline, Lydia lifted trembling fingers to her lips but a mere second before she grasped the fingers of one hand with the other and looked off to the side. She turned to her nieces, both of them subdued as they watched her. “I never should have come here. I know I had few choices, none of them good, but I left everything and everyone I knew behind to make a home on the other side of the continent from Pennsylvania. The only other family I have out here is Race, and he has gone on to make a new life for himself.” Her distressed voice dropped in volume. “I’ll probably never see him again.”

  “Can I stay here with you, Mama?”

  Lydia looked down into the pleading gaze of her son and forced out a weak smile she hoped reassured him. “Yes, Will, you may stay with me the rest of the day.” She lifted her gaze to the twins who had not moved from the open doorway. “Please come in and close the door, girls, so we don’t let in any more flies than we already have. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your mother, but I must ask a favor of you. Please stay with Will and Madeline for a few minutes. I need to speak with my sister.”

  Side by side, Caroline and Charlotte entered and closed the door.

  Caroline rushed toward the front of the building. “I’ll get Madeline.”

  Charlotte stepped toward Will and held out a hand. “Come over by the sink, Will. I’ll find a cloth and put some cool water where Mama hit you with her ruler.”

  Will turned and again clutched his mother’s skirts. “Don’t go, Mama. I don’t want you to leave.”

  Caroline called out from the front. “Madeline’s wet again. I’ll have to get her a dry diaper.”

  Lydia gently pried Will’s fingers loose from her skirt. “I have to go, Will. I have to check on Cole and make sure he’s all right.” Plus, I’ll be having words with my sister. “Your cousins will stay to make sure you’re safe until I return.”

  Carrying both wet diapers, Caroline rushed past the other three on her way to the door leading outside. “We’ll protect you, Will. Just make sure you stay inside so Mama can’t see you. Now, I better hurry and get another diaper on Madeline, or we’ll end up needing to wash her bedding, too.”

  A damp rag in her hand, Charlotte leaned over and gently wiped Will’s face with one end before she held it on the red mark on his forehead. She shook her head. “This isn’t right. Mama used to spank our backsides with her ruler, and she’s slapped us on the face with her hand before…”

  Caroline called out as she raced past them, a fresh diaper in her hand. “…but not lately—not since Papa threatened to send her back to Pennsylvania if she ever did it again...”

  “…but she’s never hit us on the face with the ruler—not Eddie or Jimmy, either.”

  “I don’t care how much she resents me coming here to live with her, I won’t tolerate her beating my boys.” Lydia leaned over and kissed Will on the top of his head. “Stay here, Will. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  Charlotte looked up. “Please hurry, Aunt Lydia. If Mama’s in one of her rages, and I were one of her other students, I’d have hightailed it out of the house along with Will. With her routine interrupted, she might be looking for us soon…”

  “…and when we leave here, we need to go out the front door because we don’t want her to know about how we take a shortcut into Mr. Denham’s yard…

  “…and, if her other students are still there, she may want to send them out to play for a little while and have an early lunch…”

  “…which means she’ll expect us to be there to fix it.”

  Lydia inhaled, assuming a determined confidence she did not feel. She dug into her pocket and held out the key to Charlotte. “If you girls must leave, show Will how to work the lock and have him let you out the front.” She turned to her son. “I don’t plan to be gone long, Will. If your cousins must leave, they will put Madeline in her crib where she’ll be safe until I return. Even if she cries, you leave her in the crib. You can talk to her, but don’t give her anything. Just wait until I come back to the front door. I’ll knock and call out to you, and then you can unlock it and let me in. Can you do that?”

  Wearing an uncertain expression on his face, Will slowly nodded.

  Charlotte patted Will’s shoulder. “If we have to leave, Will, we’ll go over everything with you first, all right? Come with me while I let your mama out so you can see how it’s done.”

  Lydia entered the Thompson house through the kitchen door. As she walked into the dining room, she followed the sound of her sister’s voice to the parlor. She could tell by Dorcas’s strident tones that her anger simmered below its explosion point. In the past, the prospect of taking to her sister when she was in such a mood would have frightened Lydia motionless. Not this time. Dorcas physically struck her children. Lydia would not tolerate it—for their sakes, she could not.

  Lydia stepped into the doorway between the dining room and the parlor. “Dorcas, I need a word with you, please. In private.”

  Her eyes wide inside the tightness of her skin, Dorcas rounded on Lydia. She gripped her ruler in a fist white around her knuckles and screeched like an owl. “Where are your boys? I know Cole went upstairs, but Will ran off somewhere else. You need to find them and get them back in my class.”

  Again, Lydia felt her body quiver and her stomach tie into knots. She interlaced her fingers and pressed them to her waist to hide their trembling. She inhaled deeply. This time, she refused to back down from her sister. “In the kitchen, please, Dorcas, or I shall say what I have to say here in your classroom.”

  Dorcas huffed. “Oh, all right.” She lifted her chin and strode after Lydia.

  Lydia, determined to stay several feet in front of her sister to prevent a physical attack from behind, walked just short of breaking into a jog. She entered the kitchen and, staying close to the kindling bucket but on the opposite side of the stove, she turned to face Dorcas.

  Dorcas walked in and glanced a
round. “Where are the girls? Why aren’t they preparing the noon meal?”

  Lydia forced her words to remain calm, but inside, she feared that asking the twins to stay with Madeline and Will while she came here would bring trouble on their heads. “It is mid-morning, Dorcas, nowhere near noon. I assume your daughters are sitting in their favorite spot in the backyard, reading over their assignment like they do every day. That is not why I’m here.”

  Dorcas raised her ruler like a sword a few feet in front of Lydia and shook it. “You’ve spoiled those boys of yours, Lydia. Will refused to recite his arithmetic when ordered. I do not tolerate that kind of insolence in my school. If that were not enough, I am fed up with his deliberately creating work by wetting his bed at night. Why you have not beaten it out of him yet so he learns to wake up and visit the chamber pot or hold it until morning is beyond me. He’s doing it on purpose to gain attention.”

  Angered at the accusations she knew were false, Lydia raised her voice. “You’re wrong, Dorcas. Will is not doing it to gain attention. His father admitted he and a cousin suffered from the same malady. They were in their early teens before they grew out of it. And, Will could not recite his multiplication tables because he has not learned them yet. His teacher in Pennsylvania did not teach them before we left.”

  Dorcas slapped the ruler on the nearest flat surface, which happened to be the stovetop. She stepped closer and waved the ruler within inches of Lydia’s face. “Then, maybe it is you I should take the stick to. You had time on your trip here. Why didn’t you teach him his multiplication and division?”

  Lydia straightened to her full height, her anger growing. “I do not answer to you for what I teach or don’t teach my children, Dorcas. My sons first lost their father, and then they encountered a stepbrother who came of age and made no secret of his desire to force them out of the only home they had ever known. Piece by piece, they saw the farm equipment my husband owned sold, along with some of their possessions. Unlike you, who traveled with your children to rejoin your husband, they traveled with their half-brother they knew would be leaving them once we arrived in California. I was taking them to an uncertain future with an aunt they remembered as being a terrible scold who could never be pleased, no matter what anyone did.”