Gingham Mountain

by Mary Connealy

  “Well, they’ve all made a mistake. This town needs to realize that education is important. Where did the doctor go? Who exactly is it that’s more important than school? I intend to tell them that they’ve got their values all wrong. They need to change their ways and make sure that nothing short of God comes between children and schooling, and that’s that!” Hannah’s voice rose as she worked her fury up to a full boil. “Where did the doctor go? Who exactly is it that’s more important than school?”

  “One o’ them orphans from out to the Rocking C.”

  “Class dismissed!” Hannah slapped her hand flat on her desk.

  The children erupted from their desks, gleefully screaming in delight.

  Hannah barely noticed, her heart thumped until it pounded in her ears. She hurried after them. What had happened? “Libby!” Hannah broke into a run. What if Grant had finally realized fully what it meant that Libby couldn’t talk or do heavy work? What if he’d done something to her? Maybe Grant had gone too far with a thrashing.

  Hannah dashed toward the livery. She needed to save her little sister and all of those other poor children!

  FOURTEEN

  Grant, Will, and Ian left the cabin and found half the town standing outside waiting for news. Someone had set up a makeshift table, and ladies had brought food and were serving the children breakfast. Several men came forward to see if Grant needed any help. Grant noticed a new pile of food, clothing, and supplies in the back of his wagon.

  Harold Stroben from the mercantile lumbered over. “What happened?”

  “The boy had a fall. He’s badly battered, but the doc says he’s going to be all right. Thanks for checking, Harold.”

  Grant waited until the first flurry of questions and concern had passed, not wanting to raise suspicions. Impatience beat against his chest, but he waited until everyone seemed satisfied.

  “I need to ride out to where he fell.” He pulled his gloves on with hard, jerky motions. He only held his temper through years of practice.

  As he, Will, and Ian walked to the barn, Will said, “Joshua didn’t trip and fall off that north bluff.”

  Ian snorted. “Not possible. My little brother could scale a greased rainbow.”

  Grant took a second to note Ian’s bright red hair and the freckles so thick on his face it was hard to tell where one stopped and another started. Ian and Josh, brothers? Only at the Rocking C. But this was the Rocking C and they were brothers, as close as blood. Grant would have smiled if he had one ounce of humor left in his body. “I’m gonna scout the trail up that hill.”

  Will untied his chestnut gelding from a mesquite bush. Ian swung up on the back of his paint mare. They met Grant as he emerged from the barn on his roan.

  Grant looked over his shoulder to see two more of his sons riding up. Several folks were heading back for town. Sour Springs had a lot of good people, Grant decided. A few bad apples had forced him to stay isolated. With the Brewsters gone—they’d been the source of so much trouble—maybe he needed to give the whole town another chance. Including the school.

  Will set out at a gallop for the bluff, Ian hard on his heels. Grant fell in behind and he heard more hoofbeats following. His family. He’d created it out of his desperate loneliness. But created it he had. He’d done a good job.

  He never had to be alone again.

  “Just wait until I get that man alone!”

  Trying to dismount, Hannah swung her leg over the horse’s rump. She’d been pleasantly surprised at the amiable nature of the horse she’d gotten from Zeb Morris. A far nicer mount than Sunday’s. Zeb had acted nervous when she’d come in. He’d apologized for her trouble with Rufus and given her the use of the horse for no cost. He’d also boosted her on.

  No one was handy to help her down. Her boot heel hung up on the back of the saddle and she shrieked as she toppled backward and landed with a dull thud in the dirt. She blinked her eyes and looked up at people rushing to her side.

  “Are you all right, miss?” A man carrying a doctor’s bag crouched by her side as if ready to examine her.

  She gave her head a brisk shake to clear it and sat up. Everything seemed to work. “I think I am.”

  Several smothered giggles drew her attention to Charlie, Benny, and Libby. Libby laughed behind her hand. And her little sister was also, obviously, not hurt. The panic cooled inside of Hannah, and her cheeks heated up with a flush of embarrassment.

  If Libby was safe, then what had happened out here that needed the doctor? There were a lot of children Grant could have been too harsh with. Hannah sat up.

  “No, wait, we should check for broken bones before—”

  Hannah was on her feet looking down at the crouching doctor. “Before what?”

  “Never mind.” The doctor stood. “You seem fine.”

  “Of course I am.” Hannah gave one fast jerk of her chin in agreement. “What happened? Who was hurt?”

  The doctor looked back at the cabin. “Joshua. He fell off a bluff this morning. He’s pretty beaten up.”

  “You’re sure it was a cliff? He wasn’t hurt by someone. . .you said beaten.”

  Several people gasped.

  “Grant actually—” The doctor cut off whatever he was going to say. “He fell. Yes, he was found at the bottom of a steep bluff. He was out chasing strays.”

  Hannah could tell the doctor had started to say something. Would he lie for Grant? She well remembered people ignoring her plight. “Who found him?”

  “Grant.”

  So there was only Grant’s word for it that Joshua had fallen. Hannah thought of Grant’s teasing last night. She’d decided he wasn’t so bad. It hurt her heart now to consider that the man, although certainly not a proper father, might have that cruel side. But Hannah knew she couldn’t let her feelings rule. “Where is he?”

  “Grant?”

  “No, Joshua.” Hannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why would she want to see Grant?

  “He’s asleep.”

  “I’d like to take a turn sitting with him if I may.”

  The doctor nodded. “Sadie’s with him now, but I shooed everyone else outside. I’ll bet she’d appreciate the company.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Hannah brushed at her dirty dress, wondering if she’d ever dismount a horse without it leading to disaster.

  She headed for the house, taking one long look backward to reassure herself Libby was alive and well. Libby grinned at her, waggling her fingers in such a lighthearted way Hannah had to believe her little sister was reasonably well treated. Libby turned to chase after Benny. Hannah noticed that with her boot fixed Libby hardly limped at all.

  Hannah went inside, not to sit with Joshua but to guard him. And she wasn’t budging until she’d gotten the truth out of someone in this strange family.

  “That’s blood!” Will rushed past Grant.

  Grant jumped aside as Will charged past him. They’d just now topped the cliff, and immediately his eyes had gone to a red splash on a large rock.

  Ian crouched by the man-sized boulder and touched the still damp blood splattered on the stone. As he knelt, he flinched and held up a harmonica from under his knee.

  “Josh’s.” Grant recognized the prized possession. “He was playing it just last night. That proves he made it to the top. It proves he somehow started bleeding up here, not from the fall.”

  “What it proves is,” Will said, his mouth a grim line, “someone hit Joshua and shoved him over the cliff.”

  A tense silence fell over the threesome as they looked at the evidence of attempted murder.

  “If someone pushed Josh over that cliff, he’d expect the fall to kill him.” Ian rose and handed the harmonica to Grant.

  “And when he learns it didn’t kill him,” Will said with a scowl, “he may worry about Josh turning him in to the sheriff.”

  The words burned. So furious he barely trusted himself to speak without raging, Grant said through clenched teeth, “Ian, you’re in town all day
. Put out the word that Josh lost his memory. Talk to anyone who comes into the blacksmith shop then stop at the diner, the mercantile, Zeb’s livery, anywhere you can think of. Tell ’em all Josh doesn’t remember a thing. Maybe that’ll keep him safe. The doc needs to know so he can back our story. Ask him to spread the word, too.” Grant turned the metal and wood instrument that had meant so much to Josh over and over in his hands. “I want everyone in Sour Springs to know about this before the day’s out so whoever tried to kill him loses his reason for finishing the job.”

  “I’ll talk to Doc Morgan,” Ian offered. “Megan was going to have to see him one of these days because of the baby, so we’ll use that as an excuse.”

  Grant’s eyes strayed from the mouth harp to the blood-splattered stone, and his boys turned to look at the grim evidence of treachery.

  Grant broke the silence first. “You can do that later. For now, we don’t leave here until we trail this varmint to his lair.”

  Grant and his sons rode to the ranch house, exhausted, demoralized, and furious.

  The ground was too rocky for a trail to show anywhere around that bluff. There was nothing to identify Joshua’s assailant. They’d climbed all the way down the other side of the hill, past the stinking oily water of Sour Springs, and found nothing.

  Will and Ian had stuck with him well into the afternoon. His boys headed on home while Grant rode up to the cabin, saddle sore, filthy, and starved.

  He recognized another horse from Zeb’s and barely suppressed a groan. Soon he’d be praying for a return to this blissful condition.

  Hannah.

  He had no doubt the woman came to snipe. He fought the temptation to ride back out. Maybe snare a rabbit, do some fishing, live off the land for a week or two. She’d go away eventually.

  Resigned to a few hours of nagging, he stripped the leather off his horse, brushed it down for far, far too long, and then gave it a bait of oats. He headed in feeling like he was taking that long, last walk to a gallows.

  Maybe it wasn’t her. Someone else could have rented a horse. He swung the door open daring to hope.

  Inside, instead of hope, he found Hannah.

  Sitting in the one and only rocking chair reading Oliver Twist, she held Libby and Benny on her lap. Charlie leaned against the stones of the hearth. Sadie worked next to Marilyn at the stove.

  Despite his daydreams—he was a realist, he’d known it was her—Grant was caught by how right the family looked with Hannah in the center. His eyes burned. He blinked away the shocking desire to cry. Hannah would think he’d gone soft. And he was only acting like this because of the upset of Josh.

  The thought of Josh snapped him out of the emotional weakness. His injured son was nowhere to be seen.

  What if. . . Could he have. . . Grant nearly panicked. “Where’s Josh?”

  A movement brought Grant’s head around to the back entry–turned bedroom. Joshua stepped through the little door that led through his room and out the back of the house. His arm in a sling, his face haggard, Josh had a tidy bandage on his forehead. The gauze glowed white against his black skin. But he was standing.

  Grant’s knees almost buckled. “You’re looking a sight better, Josh.” Grant had his hands full keeping his voice steady. “You’re gonna be okay then?”

  “Yep.” Josh didn’t so much as shake his head. “I’m still seeing two of everything. Doc Morgan stopped by this afternoon and said that’s normal. My ribs feel like I’ve been kicked by a mule and my shoulder’s on fire. It’s nothing that won’t mend.”

  Grant could tell the boy still hurt. . .and badly.

  Hannah stood carefully, mindful of easing the children to the floor. “Here, take this chair.”

  “No thanks, Miss Cartwright. I think I’ll go back to bed. I just heard Pa ride up and decided if he could see me standing he’d quit worrying.” Joshua smiled then turned back to Grant. “I woke up in there awhile ago and lay listening to her reading to the young ones. I was awhile working up the nerve to try and stand, but I did.”

  Grant managed a half smile and hooked his fingers through his belt loops. “You know me well, son. It does put my mind at ease to see you up. But I wouldn’t have made you get to your feet.” Grant felt the harmonica in his pocket and produced it for Josh. “We found this.”

  Josh lit up then flinched in pain.

  Grant was at his son’s side in an instant. “I’ll put it by your bed.”

  With a heavy sigh, Josh said, “Thanks. I’m not up for much. I didn’t get up just for you. I needed to prove to myself that I could stand on my own feet. I’ll go back to bed now though. I ache like I took an all-day beating. Sorry I won’t be able to help around much for a few days. But if you’ll give me some time, I’ll be back at it.” Josh quirked a pained smile at Grant, and they both acknowledged his weak effort at a joke. Of course he’d have all the time he needed.

  Grant noticed Hannah’s eyes narrow at the word “beating.” Grant glanced at Hannah, and those narrow blue eyes were aimed right at him. He wanted to exchange a look of concern with her. Instead, she as much as accused him of beating his son.

  His jaw tensed, and Grant had to force himself to smile and speak easily to Josh. “You’ll have all the time you need.”

  “I’ll bring your supper in as soon as it’s off the stove, Josh.” Sadie flashed him a smile. Grant could see the worry on her face, but she did her best to cover it.

  “Thanks.” Joshua turned slowly and made his way back to bed with as little jostling of his battered body as he could manage. Grant set the harmonica close, and as Josh settled on the bed with as little movement as possible, Grant spoke low enough no one could hear him. “Have you remembered what happened out there?”

  Josh closed his eyes. “No. I remember setting off to track that cow, but nothing after that.”

  Grant knew Josh was in danger until he could name his attacker. “Doc says that’s normal. It’ll most likely all come back to you soon.”

  Josh’s eyes slid closed and he didn’t respond.

  Grant whispered, “Good night.”

  As he left the room, Marilyn spoke up. “Miss Cartwright, you asked if you could help. Would you mind setting the plates and forks around?”

  Throwing a quick prayer of thanks to his Maker that Marilyn was smart enough to only let Hannah handle things made of tin, Grant went to the washbasin and scrubbed his face and hands. He took his time. He straightened as Sadie disappeared into Josh’s sickroom with a plate. Marilyn called the rest of the family to dinner.

  Hannah, it appeared, was staying for another meal. Grant was tempted to charge her room and board. The light was failing; that meant he’d need to ride beside her into town. Stifling a groan, Grant headed for the table, hoping Hannah didn’t burn anything to the ground before he got her out of here.

  FIFTEEN

  Hannah had to ask. She wouldn’t respect herself if she didn’t.

  She’d seen the way the children interacted with Grant. It was almost impossible to believe they harbored an ounce of fear of him. But he had barely spoken to her during the meal and now he sat beside her grim and stiff, frowning as if she smelled bad. . .which she no doubt did.

  Still, she had to ask.

  Struggling to be diplomatic, she said, “So what exactly happened to Josh?” There, that was nice. Of course she’d like to know. She was only a caring neighbor. She was proud of herself. Grant was a decent man. He’d be polite.

  “You mean did I thrash him within an inch of his life for not working an eighteen-hour day? Did the boy ask for a crust of bread and I took a belt to him? Just say what you’re thinking.”

  He had the manners of a warthog.

  Grant gave the reins a hard shake and the horses picked up their pace. His jaw was so tense Hannah expected his teeth to crack.

  “I am not thinking that.” She was, but she had no interest in admitting it. “The children seem very content with you. I apologize for being unhappy about all those children withou
t a mother. It sets wrong with me, but I can see they need a home. I don’t think you’ve got any right to hate me for worrying about them.” She felt her temper climbing and clamped her mouth shut. She’d break a few teeth of her own before she spoke to the surly man again.

  Then she thought of something else, and since she hadn’t told Grant about her plan to give him the silent treatment, she felt no compulsion to live with that decision. “And I didn’t force my way into a dinner invitation. The children wanted a story. Sadie and Marilyn were upset, and at first they were caring for Josh. Then they had to catch up on chores, and Libby and Benny were acting up, probably because they were so fretful about Josh. You should have been there with them when they were so upset. But no, you were off doing who knows what! I stayed because I thought I could help, you. . .you big. . .” She snapped her teeth together again.

  They were coming up on the steep climb over the hill and down to Sour Springs. Grant suddenly pulled back on the reins, and when the horses came to a halt, he turned to her. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Having you there did help out.”

  He couldn’t have surprised her any more if he’d sprouted a full white beard and left her a sack of Christmas presents.

  “Well. . .” Speechless, because she had a hard time thinking of anything to say to Grant that wasn’t rude, she fell silent. She wanted to rub his nose in his rudeness. She looked, glared probably, at Grant and saw how tired he was. She remembered the worry on his face when he came in and didn’t see Josh.

  It hurt a bit, but she managed to say, “Thank you.”

  Grant nodded then turned to look between his horses’ ears. “It helped me having you there, too, Hannah.”

  Hannah should have corrected him and insisted on “Miss Cartwright.” Everyone in town needed to treat her with the dignity due a teacher’s station, to set a good example for the children. But he sounded too weary and kind.