Isaiah Sanderson rose from behind an enormous desk. His well-cut suit set off his snow-white hair, and the crinkles around his eyes revealed that he often smiled. However, he wasn’t smiling now. He gestured toward a straight chair across from him.
“Have a seat, Mr. Sneed. What can I do for you?” The lawyer perched in his chair and clasped his hands on his desk, his stiff back held away from the cushions.
What’s eating at him? Frank leaned forward and intently studied Mr. Sanderson’s face. “I’ve come about the Mercer estate. Shouldn’t there have been a reading of the will by now?”
Mr. Sanderson turned his gaze toward the bookcase lining the wall to his right. Surely the man knew every volume it contained. “Sneed?…Aren’t you Mr. Mercer’s servant?”
The man didn’t look at Frank when he asked the question, and the way he emphasized the last word told Frank what he thought about him. The Sunday clothes hadn’t mattered one bit.
“That’s right, sir. My wife and I are all Miss Madeline has left.”
Without even glancing at him, Sanderson cleared his throat. “I thought Horace Johnstone and Miss Mercer were to be wed.”
Frank shook his head even though he doubted the man could see it the way he kept glancing away from him. Frank’s uneasiness intensified. A lawyer shouldn’t be so evasive.
“Mr. Mercer never said anything like that.”
“I’m sure the man didn’t talk to you about everything that went on.” Clipped words, sharp like a well-honed knife.
“No, he didn’t. But he did trust me. And more than once, he asked that Sarah and I take care of Miss Madeline if anything happened to him. Never did mention her possible marriage to his business partner. Johnstone almost never came to the house, so Miss Madeline hardly knows the man.”
Frank expected a reaction from the lawyer, but the man simply gripped his hands tighter until his knuckles whitened. “I’m not at liberty to discuss those things with you, and I’m meeting with a client shortly.”
His pointed words hit their mark, but his eyes never left their journey over the spines of the books. What could Frank do but leave quietly?
When he reached the street, the disquiet in his spirit had increased. If Mr. Sanderson didn’t have anything to hide, why did he brush Frank off so quickly? An honest man would look him straight in the eyes.
Horace Johnstone glared at the man exiting the elevator across the lobby of the bank building. He had to have been in Sanderson’s office. Why was Madeline’s servant talking to the lawyer? Horace had better get up there and remind Isaiah of the consequences if he did anything Horace had forbidden.
When he stormed into the office, the ninny behind the front desk didn’t even try to stop him. He must have learned his lesson from the last time Horace was there.
He threw open the door to Isaiah’s office. The weakling sat with his hands clasped, but he glanced up at the noise. Probably praying, just like Mercer did.
Horace had no patience with weak men. They were too easy to control. Until that last day with Mercer. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about what had happened then. Water under the bridge.
“What was Sneed doing here?”
“How—?”
“I saw him get off the elevator.” He didn’t care how far his voice carried. If other people feared him, that made his work easier. “I told you I would be watching you,” he sneered. “And I have enough spies planted around you that I’ll know every move you make before the day is over.”
The lawyer stood and gripped the back of his chair. “What do you want?”
“I already asked you,” Horace roared, enjoying the hint of fear the man tried to hide. “What about Sneed?”
“He…” Sanderson cleared his throat. “He wanted to know about the reading of the will.”
Hoping he had mud on his shoes so there’d be a mess on the carpet, Horace stomped across the Persian rug and planted his fists against the desktop. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing.” Sanderson stiffened his spine. “I told him absolutely nothing. Just that I thought you and Miss Mercer were getting married.”
“And?”
“He said Mr. Mercer hadn’t said anything about the marriage before he died.”
Horace stood straight and crossed his arms. “Is that all?”
“Y–yes,” Sanderson stammered.
“Just remember what will happen if this marriage doesn’t take place. The danger to your family.”
Back on the sidewalk, Horace’s aggressive steps matched his mood. He could better collect his thoughts while in motion. What could be going on? Why would Sneed contact Sanderson? Insignificant fool. But maybe too smart for his own good.
He’d have to watch out for that one. He didn’t like it a bit. And he wasn’t going to let a mere servant ruin all he’d worked for. The taunting words and names from his childhood echoed in his mind, trying to drag him back into the mire. He’d never be able to silence them until he’d accomplished all he’d set out to do. Then he’d be in a position of power and prestige. Nothing—and no one—would be able to stop him.
Frank stumbled down the brick street toward the mansion. A bright moon lit the way. An exploding headache burned behind his eyes, and he had trouble focusing. The few drinks he’d had hit him hard on the way home. Never a man for liquor, he hadn’t realized the sips he’d taken could combine to bring on so much pain. His only consolation was that the women would all be abed, and no one would see his inebriated condition. Never again would a drop of the devil’s brew pass his lips. But he wasn’t sorry they had tonight. He’d learned a lot while he nursed a few drinks and plied others with many more.
Some of the men took longer than others, but eventually all their tongues loosened. What he found out scared him. Madeline didn’t have any idea what she was up against. Johnstone thought himself above the law. And he didn’t hesitate to eliminate anyone who got in his way. Wonder if that’s what happened with Mr. Mercer? Maybe his death wasn’t an accident after all. The idea stiffened Frank’s spine and sobered him a little.
Hopefully, his mind would work better in the morning. Lord, please let me remember everything that was said to me tonight. We need to use the information to protect Madeline. He stuck his hand in his pocket to make sure the ad from the newspaper hadn’t gotten lost.
He fumbled with the gate several times before the latch opened, and the clang it made pounded against his head, intensifying the pain. The sooner he got to bed, the better. He only hoped Sarah was sound asleep when he slid between the covers. He didn’t want his sweet wife to see him in this shape.
As he tried to grasp the knob, the door flew open. The astonishment on Sarah’s face would have been comical if it hadn’t quickly turned into a harsh frown.
“Where have you been?” she hissed and pulled him through the doorway, almost jerking his arm out of its socket. That’s all he needed, more pain.
The thud when she closed the door did almost as much damage to his head as the gate had. Her fisted hands flew to her hips, and he read deep disappointment in her eyes. Pain shot through his heart. He hadn’t wanted to upset Sarah. He knew she would understand when he told her what he’d done. He just didn’t want to face her without clear thoughts.
He slid into a chair by the kitchen table and dropped his face into his hands. Help me, Lord.
Sarah followed and towered over him—a new feeling since her head only reached to his chest, and he’d always sheltered her there.
“Are you going to give me an answer?”
The sound of her disappointment hurt as much as seeing it in her face. Frank raised his head and took a deep breath.
“You reek of the terrible odors of a tavern. You haven’t had a drink of alcohol since before we were wed. Why now, Frank, of all times?” She dropped into the chair on the other side of the table, her arms crossed in defiance.
“I tol’ ya I’d be checking on Johnstone.” After the first few slurred words, he was be
tter able to manage his tongue. “I learned a lot.”
“You were gone long enough.”
“First I went to Sanderson. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer about anything. Treated me like I wasn’t worth dirt.” Stating it so baldly sent a sword through his gut. “But the man was hiding something. He couldn’t even look at me. I’ve never trusted a man who can’t meet my eyes.”
Sarah reached across the table and took his hand. “You’re a fine man, Frank Sneed. He should have recognized your worth.”
Just like Sarah to comfort him, even when she was mad at him. He’d give her a reason for those words to be true.
“I spent the rest of the day checking out things, at the company, on the docks, then in the tavern. It’s hard to get men to open up if you’re not drinking with them. The liquor really loosens their tongues.” He squeezed her hand. “I only sipped mine occasionally, but I’m not used to spirits anymore. They really did me in. I hoped you wouldn’t be awake, so you wouldn’t see me this way.”
A lone tear made its way down her cheek. “I should’ve known you hadn’t gone back to your old ways from before you became a Christian. Too many years have passed for that. And you’ve become such a stalwart man of God.”
Sarah’s support meant the world to him. She could lift the heaviness from his heart with just a smile. Her words of praise poured like the balm of Gilead over his soul.
“I may have found a way to get Madeline out of the city until this estate and marriage thing can be worked through.” He pulled out the crumpled paper and smoothed it before handing it to Sarah.
After she read it, she looked up, puzzled. “How can this help her? She doesn’t want to marry anyone right now, especially not a man she doesn’t know.”
He nodded. “I know that. But from what I’ve found out about Johnstone, if she doesn’t agree to marry him, her life would be in danger. I think she should answer this ad. She wouldn’t have to marry the man, even if she goes to—” He glanced down at the address. “Golden in New Mexico territory. One or both of us could accompany her and protect her. And we’d only use this as an escape if absolutely necessary.”
“Are you out of your mind, Frank Sneed?”
Chapter Six
After a seemingly endless night at Loraine’s bedside, Maddy slipped into her own room for a short nap. When she awoke, sunlight spilled through the lacy panels between the heavy brocade draperies, painting a new design on the Persian carpet.
It must be close to noon. She sat up and stretched her hands high above her head, trying to get the kinks out of her back before climbing out of bed. Her body ached from all the things she’d been doing that were different from her normal routine.
She crossed the hallway to check on Loraine. Her friend slept snuggled under the covers, and her even breathing sounded more normal. So Maddy returned to her own room.
Using the tepid water in her pitcher, she finished her ablutions and donned a black house dress before hurrying down the stairs. Finding Sarah in the kitchen, Maddy perched on a stool, her feet on the bottom rung. “Where is Frank? I’m sure you both had breakfast hours ago.”
“Yes. He ate after he fed the horses this morning.” Sarah spooned a large helping of steaming eggs and sausage onto a plate. “When I heard you moving around, I cooked your eggs.” She buttered two biscuits and arranged the pieces beside the other food. “Frank has gone to pick up Bonnie Maguire.” After setting the plate in front of Maddy, she hurried to the ice box and poured a glass of milk from the fresh bottle delivered that morning.
“I’m glad Mrs. Maguire is free to come.” Maddy took a bite and chewed slowly. As hungry as she was, she was tempted to gulp down the delicious food. But she decided to take her time and enjoy all the flavors instead. “I’m really worried about Loraine.”
“For sure, and we all are.” Sarah nodded. “That poor thing’s needed help for a long time. I hadn’t realized how much. At least you and Frank have been taking food to her.”
Maddy stared at the abundance on her plate. Her throat tightened, and hot tears threatened. “I just pray it was enough to bring her through this. I should have thought to move her into this house sooner. But she’s really not wanted to accept much charity. I tried to respect her wishes and still be sure she had enough. Hard to balance those two things.”
The back door burst open, and the freshening, cold spring wind blew through the kitchen.
“Just come on in here, Miz Maguire.” Frank ushered the midwife ahead of him. “I’ll be carrying your bags up to your room for you.” He went back outside, closing the door behind him.
Sarah rushed to her. “Bonnie, dear, Miss Madeline had me fix up a room right next to Loraine’s. Would you be wanting something to eat?”
Maddy stood. “I’m just now having breakfast. I’m sure there’s plenty.”
The tiny woman didn’t look strong enough for the hard work of helping babies into the world. Or turning her patients, or anything else strenuous. But a crinkly smile spread across her face. “I’d rather go meet the little mother right away. I’ll wait until lunchtime to eat with her. What has she been able to eat?”
“We’ve been trying to get her to take some good strong beef broth with noodles, but she only swallows a few bites at a time.” Sarah shook her head. “I’m afraid it might not be enough for the wee one.” She led the midwife from the kitchen. “And she’ll need strength for the del…”
Sarah’s voice faded as she ascended the stairway. Maddy sat back down and nibbled on a piece of biscuit. What more could she do for Loraine? She had to think of something.
Frank blustered through the door, carrying two carpetbags. He stopped beside the table. “And how was your night, Miss Madeline? Did you sleep at all?”
She tried for a bright smile but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “The night was rough, but I’ve had a good nap. You go on up and help Sarah and Bonnie.”
By the time Maddy finished eating, Mrs. Maguire had settled into her room and taken up her post beside Loraine’s bed. Worry puckered the wrinkled brow of the midwife, validating Maddy’s worst fears.
“Should I go down and get more broth for Loraine?”
Maddy’s words snagged Mrs. Maguire’s attention. “Yes, I’d like to try to get her to eat again. While you’re gone, I’ll finish cleaning her up and fixing her hair. Maybe that will perk her up a bit.”
When Maddy stepped into the hallway and closed the door, a loud pounding on the front door caused her to hesitate. Why doesn’t the person use the doorbell? The ornate brass handle was right there in plain sight beside the doorpost.
Before she got to the top of the stairs, Frank opened the door.
“Now see here, Sneed!” No mistaking that harsh voice.
Maddy shuddered. She shrank back and stood out of sight, waiting for her nemesis to leave.
“Johnstone, how can I help you?”
Maddy smiled at Frank’s cool reply. She appreciated the strength and restraint he displayed.
“Mr. Johnstone to you, Sneed. Let me in.”
Maddy wished she could see the two men without being seen. Hopefully Frank would keep Horace Johnstone away from her.
Frank opened the door wider and hinges squeaked as if in protest against the sleazy man standing there. “No need to get so snippy, Mr. Johnstone. Now what can I do for you?” He closed the door to shut out the cold wind.
Johnstone’s eyes darted around as if he were looking for something…or someone. Probably Madeline. Frank didn’t intend to let the man near her today.
“I don’t like you shoving your nose into my business.” The belligerent tone echoed throughout the foyer while the angry man’s forefinger pounded a harsh tattoo on Frank’s chest.
Frank stifled his urge to shout at the man. He knew it wouldn’t help anything. Maybe another tack would work.
“Not sure what yer talkin’ about.” Frank deliberately chose his words. He wanted Johnstone to think him uneducated. Maybe it would give him an advan
tage down the road.
“Why’d you go to see Sanderson?” Johnstone’s fists landed on his own waist as he stood glaring at Frank.
Frank stiffened. “I wanted to check on Mr. Mercer’s will. Since Miss Madeline had to get rid of the other servants, I worry about her.” He gripped his hands behind his back, wishing he could punch the pompous man in the snout.
“Worried about your own position, I’m sure.” Johnstone barked out a harsh laugh. “Let this be a warning to you. You’ll do what I tell you, or you and that wife of yours will find yourselves out on the street with nary a penny to your name. And I’ll see to it you won’t be able to find another position here in Boston. Stay away from Sanderson. I’m taking care of everything for Madeline. Now where is she?”
Once more his beady eyes studied every corner. Frank hoped Madeline would stay upstairs until he got rid of the man.
“She’s still grieving her dear father’s death. Had a bad night. Hope you haven’t disturbed her rest.” Frank worked hard to keep his gaze from going to the top of the stairs. Mustn’t let Johnstone know how worried he was.
“Tell her I’ll be coming back for dinner on Sunday.” The man gave an evil grin. “That should give her enough time to…rest.”
Frank shut the door behind Johnstone and sagged against it. Lord, help me know what to do to protect our Madeline.
“Frank.”
Madeline’s soft voice caused him to look up at her as she descended the stairs. “What was he talking about? Why was he mad at you?” She clasped her hands in front of her waist and stood waiting for his reply.
“Sarah and I want to discuss that with you, Miss Madeline. Can we do it now?”
“I need to take some more broth up to Loraine. Then we can talk in the kitchen.” She walked past him but turned back. “This sounds serious.”
“That it is.” Frank agreed. More than you can imagine.
Maddy trudged up the stairs. The knot in her stomach tightened. She tapped the door with her foot, and Mrs. Maguire opened it.
Love Finds You in Golden, New Mexico Page 5
