“Let me help you with that tray.” The midwife took the food and set it on the bedside table. Turning, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What was all that hullabaloo? Even though she was sleeping, all the noise agitated Loraine. She became restless. I think it was the tone the man used. We couldn’t understand the words.”
“I don’t want her disturbed like that.” Maddy went to her friend’s bedside and watched her slowly open her eyes.
“Miss…Mercer.”
The whispered words warmed Maddy’s heart. Loraine looked better than she had since she arrived. Her hair was clean and combed and her skin not as pale as it had been. Maddy sensed that they would be able to help Loraine and her baby.
“Let’s sit you up.” Mrs. Maguire lifted Loraine’s upper body while Maddy pushed two fat goose-down pillows behind her back. “Here’s some good beef broth. You really need to eat and build up your strength. Your time isn’t far off.”
Maddy leaned over and pressed a kiss to Loraine’s forehead. “I’m going downstairs, but when you’re finished eating, I’ll be back and visit with you.”
Loraine’s answering smile added fuel to the hope in Maddy’s heart.
Apprehensive, Maddy thrust open the door to the kitchen. Frank and Sarah sat with their heads bowed, holding each other’s hands. From across the cavernous room, their murmured prayers engulfed Maddy. She quietly slipped into the chair across the table from them and bowed her head. Frank continued to pray softly. She didn’t understand every word he said, but the peace of sharing their worship settled over her.
“Amen.” Frank’s voice ending the prayer was louder.
She raised her head and opened her eyes. “Why did you want to talk to me, Frank?”
He gazed directly into her eyes. “I’ve been doing some checking, Miss Madeline. Several matters don’t add up to me.”
The hairs on her neck stood up. “What?” She had been concerned, too, and wondered if they were thinking about the same things.
Frank leaned his beefy forearms on the table. “I’ve never known it to take so long for the reading of a will. That should have happened long ago.”
She nodded. One of her concerns too.
“I hope you don’t mind, Miss Madeline, but I went to see Mr. Sanderson yesterday morning.” He lifted one questioning brow.
“That was a good thing. What did you find out?” Finally, she would have some answers.
“Nothing.” He gave an emphatic nod. “That man wouldn’t answer a single question for me.”
So no answers yet. “Do you think it’s because you’re my servant? I could go see him with you.” She clasped her hands in her lap, gripping them tight. “Why didn’t I think of that sooner? We can go tomorrow.”
Frank shook his head before she could continue. “He did question me about my position here, but I don’t think that’s the real reason. I’m sure Johnstone has something to do with why Sanderson won’t tell me anything. Sanderson was evasive and nervous.”
Maddy’s heavy woolen dress couldn’t keep the chill from her body. A chill that didn’t have anything to do with the temperature in the kitchen. The walls closed in on her as if she were in a prison cell. She shook the image from her mind.
“When Johnstone was here earlier, it confirmed my suspicions that he had something to do with the delay.” The scowl on Frank’s face looked out of place on the normally placid man. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Exasperated, she started tapping her foot on the stone floor. What could they do now? She would not let that man control her life.
Frank stood up. “That’s not all.”
“What do you mean?” She was ready to listen to whatever else he had to say. Then decisions could be made.
He started pacing the room. “I did a lot of snooping yesterday. Even visited a couple of taverns late last night, trying to get information.”
Maddy had never seen Frank so riled up. She rose to her feet. “And what did you find out?”
He stopped and faced her. “There’s no easy way to say this.” Regret painted his features, darkening his eyes. “Johnstone has a bad reputation. Lots of rumors about him. He’s made many enemies. Some say he wouldn’t blink an eye at murdering a man. And some are questioning the way your dear father died. That maybe Johnstone had a hand in that.”
Maddy widened her eyes. “Are you saying he may have killed my father?” She dropped into the chair. Unthinkable! But what if it were true? “The man’s a villain. How could he get away with murder?” What can we do about it? “This is so much worse than I feared.” Angry tears clogged her throat, cutting off any more words.
Sarah came around the table and caressed Maddy’s shoulders. “We didn’t want to upset you, but you need to know the truth.” She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Maddy’s head.
But no matter how much Sarah tried to soothe her, Maddy’s thoughts warred inside her.
That knowledge about Johnstone changed everything. Now she knew her feelings about the man were valid. He couldn’t be trusted, and she’d never marry him. Somehow she had to get out of it. But how?
Frank thrust his hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a bit of torn newspaper. He laid the scrap on the table in front of where she stood, smoothing it out so she could read the words. She’d seen ads like this before. Wondered what kind of women would answer them—never dreaming anything could happen that would cause her to consider answering one.
She glanced up at him. “Why did you bring this to me?”
He rubbed the back of his neck while red crept into his already ruddy cheeks. “The newspaper had been left on a table in the tavern, opened to this very page. When I sat down, the words screamed up at me. I’d been praying for a way to protect you from Johnstone. This could be the answer to those prayers.”
Aghast, Maddy turned her head to look at Sarah still standing behind her. “Do you agree with him?”
“It makes sense to me.” She eased into the chair beside Maddy. “You might never need to go to this place, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least write the man. Just in case.”
Maddy couldn’t believe they agreed on this. She leaned her hands on the table. “I don’t want to marry a stranger any more than I want to marry Horace Johnstone.”
Sarah patted her hand. “We’re not saying you’ll marry him. Going there could get you out of danger. Provide a way of escape. I’m sure a Christian man wouldn’t press you into marriage unless you wanted it, and the ad does say he’s a Christian.”
Maddy glanced at the ceiling. “What about Loraine?”
“You might not ever go to New Mexico territory. But answer the letter so you have that option. I’m sure you’ll be all right until the baby is born.”
Frank stood before her like a father. “Johnstone said he’d give you a month before he’ll press for the marriage. If I haven’t found out enough by then, we could accompany you on the journey. We’d protect you after we get there too.”
A lot of things on her mind, Maddy took the newspaper ad upstairs to her room. She’d really seek the Lord before she did anything. Then Horace Johnstone’s words played over and over in her head.
Answering the ad might be a good thing. Just a note of introduction anyway. Surely she’d never need to actually go there.
Chapter Seven
Golden, New Mexico
Jeremiah enjoyed the journey from his ranch into Golden. Being out on the range beat spending time in a mine any day. Cooler breezes blew across the Ortiz Mountains, carrying the scents of warm soil and wild flowers. The lower temperature would make working on the house more comfortable than the last few days had been. A late spring rain had greened up the countryside. For today, anyway. Occasional patches of blooming sage added purple to the myriad earthen shades of the landscape. Overhead a lone hawk cried out at the few tufts of white clouds that shared the sky with it.
Riding Lightning up Main Street toward Philip’s house, Jeremiah studied the progress on the a
ddition. Several of the unemployed miners had welcomed the chance to make a little extra money. And they were working hard to quickly finish the rooms. He didn’t think there was a need to be in that big of a hurry, but the sooner they finished, the sooner he’d have one responsibility lifted from his shoulders.
Reining his palomino to the right, he stopped in front of Skinner’s Mercantile. The post office resided in the back corner, and Philip was sure to ask him about the mail as soon as he arrived.
Jeremiah tied the reins to a hitching post and patted Lightning’s neck. “I’ll be right back.” He scratched his stallion on the namesake white streak down his face, a very unique blaze.
Wooden barrels and kegs displaying an assortment of items from straw brooms to nails and screws sat on the boardwalk, holding the double doors open to the welcome fresh air and customers. Jeremiah’s eyes took a couple minutes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dim interior of the building. The scents of beeswax, tobacco, and leather mingling with pickle brine assaulted him, taking him back to the general store he loved as a boy.
Several people milled around, studying a variety of merchandise. Off to his right, Cyrus Skinner, the proprietor and postmaster, talked to a miner looking at tools.
When the storekeeper turned away for a moment, Jeremiah took his chance. “Say, Cyrus, any mail for me or Philip?”
The postmaster squinted and stared out the dusty front window for a moment. Then he shoved his bushy white hair back with one hand. If he’d use the Macassar oil he sold, he’d have a better chance of keeping the strands out of his eyes. “I b’lieve there’s quite a bit a mail fer Philip. Don’t recollect none fer you.”
Jeremiah slipped past three women deep in conversation and headed toward the wooden counter in the post office corner of the building. “I’ll just wait till you’re finished.”
“No need fer that.” Cyrus picked up a long-handled broom and gave the ceiling three hard whacks. “Helen can come down and take care a ya.”
Before Jeremiah took another step, the back stairs emitted a loud squeak.
Helen popped through the curtained doorway and gave him a wide smile, revealing the gap between her two front teeth. “How can I help you, Jeremiah?”
“Wanting to pick up the mail.” He waved a hand at the postal area. “Cyrus said Philip has some.”
She scurried past him and took her place behind the counter. “Cyrus!” The blast of the words could have shattered a plate-glass window. Thankfully, it didn’t. “Where’d you put Mr. Smith’s mail?”
If the cattle out on his ranch hadn’t heard her yell, Jeremiah’d be surprised.
Cyrus turned from the miner and glared at her. “Stacked on the desk.” He gave a dismissive wave toward that piece of beat-up furniture.
His answer wasn’t any quieter than her question. Jeremiah was glad there weren’t any strangers in the store. They probably wouldn’t understand all that hollering. But everyone here in Golden was used to the Skinners. None of the people in the store flinched or even turned their heads.
Helen swung around to the desk shoved against the back wall. She put her hands on her hips and studied the stacks of varied heights. “Sure a lot of letters. Maybe they’re not all for Philip.”
“I certainly hope not.” The words were out before Jeremiah thought about stopping them. He hurried to cover his blunder. “It’d take him awhile to read all those.”
Helen went over to the grocery side of the store and picked up a tow sack. “I’ll just put them in this, so’s they’ll be easy for you to tote.”
She returned to the desk and started picking up stacks of letters. She glanced at the top envelope to make sure they were for Philip before stuffing them in the bag. When she handed the tow sack to Jeremiah, it was nearly half full and the desktop had been cleared.
“Thank you, Miz Skinner.” Jeremiah tipped his hat. “Be seeing you.” He skedaddled before she had a chance for any of the questions he knew she was itching to ask.
While he rode the rest of the way up to the house, Jeremiah couldn’t believe so many women in the Boston area would answer an ad for a bride. What kind of terrible situations must they be in to risk coming west and marrying a perfect stranger? He couldn’t imagine any decent woman he knew doing such a thing.
Philip could only help one of these women. Would he get upset there were so many others who probably needed help too? Maybe some of them weren’t in dire straits but saw the ad as a chance to move across the country. What if others were swindlers?
Jeremiah was determined to protect his friend. Whenever Philip chose the woman, Jeremiah would be sure he met the train and checked her out before taking her up to the house. If need be, he’d put her right back on the train, using his own money.
Boston, Massachusetts
After Maddy returned from a trip to the emporium to replenish her supply of handkerchiefs, she hurried up the stairs.
Mrs. Maguire was coming from Loraine’s room. “Is there another place we could move Loraine, so she won’t be bothered by any disturbance downstairs? You know, like the one when Mr. Johnstone was here.”
Maddy automatically glanced toward the ceiling, then back at the woman. “There are servants’ quarters on the third floor. My father turned two of the rooms into an apartment for Frank and Sarah. But the rest of them are smaller than the one Loraine’s using.”
“Can I see them?” She sounded as if her mind was made up about moving her patient.
Maddy led the way toward the back stairs. Since the house was solidly built, the steps were sturdy, but not as wide as the staircase that connected the first and second floors. At the top, she opened the door and led the midwife on a tour of the six unoccupied rooms.
After inspecting the last one, Mrs. Maguire turned toward Maddy. “These are right nice. I’m sure Loraine will think so too. Maybe we could move into these rooms.” She chose the two farthest from the Sneeds’ apartment so she wouldn’t disturb them during the night.
“It’s fine with me, if that’s what you really want.”
The smile that lit the midwife’s face was as bright as one of the electric lights Maddy’s father had proudly installed on the first two floors of the mansion. “I’ll get Frank to help me move Loraine and our things after she has breakfast. I’m going to try her on scrambled eggs and toast this morning. She’s been eating better lately. Some of her strength is returning. A very good thing, for sure.”
Golden, New Mexico
Before Jeremiah reached the house, Philip stepped onto the stoop of the adobe dwelling. The workmen had already extended the porch in front of the two new rooms, so it went all along the south wall. Philip liked to sit in the plain, wooden rocking chair that stayed out there, especially to watch the spectacular sunsets.
Philip’s eyes twinkled. “Jerry, glad ya finally got here. These men are doin’ really good, doncha think?” He slipped his thumbs under his suspenders and stretched them a few inches from his chest.
Jeremiah swung his leg over the back of the horse and dropped to the ground. “I noticed the change when I rode into town.” He nodded toward a couple of the men who came around the house carrying lumber. “Good job.”
They returned his nod and continued carrying their burden out of sight.
After tying Lightning to the hitching post, he reached for the tow sack tied behind his saddle. The paper crinkled when he moved it.
“What ya got in the sack?”
“Something that’ll make you happy.”
Jeremiah slung the bag over his shoulder and led the way into the main room. As he strode across the floor, his spurs jangled to the accompanying drumbeat of his boots across the wooden floor. Some of the adobe houses on the edge of town only had a dirt floor. Nothing but the best for his friend.
Arriving at the table, he opened the top of the sack and unceremoniously dumped the envelopes across its polished surface. A few skittered over the edge.
Philip’s eyes widened. “That what I think it
is?”
“Yup.” Jeremiah scooped up a handful. “Answers to your ad.”
He glanced at the postmarks on the letters he held. Only a couple were from Boston. One was even from Chicago. He never thought about women from other places answering Philip’s ad.
The smile that split Philip’s face revealed straight teeth. His happiness shone like the noonday sun over the desert. “Well, I’ll be.”
When he reached for the envelopes Jeremiah held out, his hands shook as if he had the palsy. He didn’t even glance at the messy stack on the table. He just went to his favorite rocker and carefully settled against the cushions. Instead of starting to open the envelopes he held, he laid them in his lap and placed one hand on top before squeezing his eyes shut and bowing his head.
Jeremiah knew he was praying. Philip did that a lot, but why would he want to pray over these letters?
Jeremiah headed out to check on the building progress. Before long, he jumped into working on the dividing wall between the two new rooms. Might as well help all he could. He certainly didn’t want to stay in the other part of the house and watch Philip pray.
By the time they finished the wall and slapped plaster on it, Jeremiah was tired and thirsty. He went into the kitchen and gulped down two large glasses of water before he lugged a fresh bucket of water out to the other workers. While they slaked their thirst, he gave a quick glance toward the sun. Almost straight above their heads. Time to eat.
He headed toward the hotel. Caroline should have lunch ready about now. He’d save her the effort of bringing it up to the house. Instead of riding Lightning, he decided that stretching his legs on the fairly long walk would do him good. Help him clear his mind.
Three men from the stock exchange went into the bank. Several horses were tied in front of the saloons on the other end of Main Street. Too bad not all the miners and cowhands wanted to work. A wagonload of ore lumbered toward the stamping plant, reminding him why the whole town pulsed with the confounded loud pounding. Everyone tolerated the noise, because it meant money in most of their pockets. The same three women he’d seen in the mercantile headed toward one of the houses on the southern side of the street.
Love Finds You in Golden, New Mexico Page 6
