Touching the Sky

by Tracie Peterson

  “Oh, Rissa,” Laura said, using her sister’s long-forsaken nickname. She tried to take Carissa into her arms, but her sister wouldn’t have it.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.” She met Laura’s eyes. “I can’t tell Mother. She mustn’t ever know.”

  “Keeping it from her doesn’t change that it happened.”

  “No, but it will keep her from the nightmares you may well have once I tell you exactly what he did to me.”

  Laura felt her blood go cold. For a moment she wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear any more. It was obvious that Malcolm had beat Carissa within an inch of her life.

  Without warning her sister began to give the horrendous details of that night and of a beating that should have claimed her life. As Carissa spoke, it was as if the entire scene played out in Laura’s mind. She could almost feel the blows—see the man’s rage.

  “I begged for mercy,” Carissa said, finally coming to the end of her story. “I told him I would never question him again. I begged him, Laura.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Laura realized there was nothing else she could say. No amount of comforting words would change what Malcolm Lowe had done. Nothing she could do would restore Carissa’s innocence. For a moment Laura just sat shaking her head. One thing was for certain: Their mother could never know. The abuses heaped upon her sister that night were not the kind of thing you could repeat—especially not to one’s mother.

  “I guess you were right, Laura. I really didn’t know Malcolm well enough to marry him,” Carissa admitted. “I thought only with my heart and not with my head, and now it’s too late.”

  “It’s never too late,” Laura replied. “You can just stay here. Father needs to know what has happened. He won’t allow Malcolm to even set foot in this house.”

  Carissa shook her head vehemently. “No. Please. I do not want either one of them to know. You cannot tell them. You must keep this secret for me.”

  Laura didn’t know what to say. How could she agree to keep such a secret? If she said nothing and Carissa returned to Malcolm, the next beating could very well claim her life.

  For several minutes the two women just sat, staring at nothing. It wasn’t until their mother returned with a tray of food for Carissa that Laura could even pull her thoughts from the tortures her sister had described.

  “I brought you soup. Cook had some left from lunch.” Mother placed the tray on Carissa’s lap. “It’s fish chowder—your favorite. I’ve brought you some of Cook’s hush puppies too. They’re cold, but the soup is hot. That’s what took so long.”

  “Thank you,” Carissa said, smiling at their mother. “I will eat it and then I believe I’ll sleep. Honestly, you mustn’t worry. I’m fine. Just tired.”

  Mother seems to want to believe this more than anything, Laura thought. She returned Carissa’s smile and patted her on the head as though she were a small child.

  “Very good. I believe I will take a nap myself.” Mother smoothed the front of her gown. “Laura, a rest would do you good, as well.”

  “I’m sure it would, Mother,” Laura said, unwilling to argue. But she seriously wondered if she would ever be able to rest easy again.

  “Very good,” Mother said. “I will see you both at supper.”

  Laura would have laughed at the absurdity of it all had the situation not been so grave. Once their mother had exited the room, however, she looked at Carissa.

  “I will keep your secret on one condition. You must never . . . ever . . . go back to him.”

  Carissa toyed with a hush puppy, turning it over and over in her delicate fingers. “That could be a problem,” she said in barely a whisper.

  “Only for Malcolm,” Laura declared, getting to her feet. “I’ll put myself between you and him before I’ll ever let him take you from this place.” She thought for a moment of the investigation and how Malcolm was thought to have committed murder. She longed to tell Carissa of Brandon’s suspicions, but something held her back.

  She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry for losing my temper, but I am so angry right now I don’t even trust myself. You are safe here,” Laura said, taking a deep breath to steady her emotions. “That’s all that matters. Eat your soup and rest. I’ll check in on you later.”

  Laura didn’t wait for Carissa to respond, but instead moved to the open door. “I won’t sleep. I’ll listen for you and if you need me, just call.”

  “I think I’m with child.”

  The words hung in the air. Laura couldn’t imagine that she’d heard correctly. After the severe beating her sister had received, how could she possibly be pregnant?

  “I know it seems difficult to believe, and perhaps it’s not true. But I had my cycle just days before we married and I’ve not had one since,” Carissa said. “I think despite everything that has happened . . . I’m going to have a baby.”

  19

  Brandon arrived at the Marquardt house the next day. He had made arrangements the week before to take Laura out for a buggy ride, and he’d even managed to borrow a very charming two-seat basket phaeton with a fringed top. It was smaller than the last phaeton he’d borrowed; in fact, it was more of a ladies carriage and could barely contain his long legs. But he was certain it would delight Laura.

  Jumping down from the buggy, Brandon secured the black gelding and offered the horse a bit of apple. “I shall return momentarily, and you shall see that Miss Marquardt is all that I declared her to be and more.”

  The horse gave a slight bob of his head but quickly went back to searching for more apple. Brandon gave in and palmed another piece of the fruit before heading up the steps to the Marquardt house.

  Gaston admitted him on the first knock and Brandon was surprised to find Laura already awaiting him in the music room. She seemed pale and not at all herself as she played a dark dirge on the rosewood grand piano.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” Brandon declared. “Perfect for our planned outing.”

  Laura looked up and the palpable pain in her expression pierced Brandon to the soul. He studied her for a moment and frowned.

  “What is it? Has something happened?”

  She rose rather stiffly from the piano and extended her hand. “Please get me out of here,” she whispered.

  He didn’t waste any time. Whatever was wrong would not be helped by remaining in the music room and asking questions. He walked her to the door, stopping only long enough for Laura to tie on a bonnet and wrap and then take up her gloves. She pulled them on quickly and gave him the briefest of nods.

  A million questions raced through Brandon’s mind as he assisted her into the phaeton. He wondered if Malcolm Lowe had threatened her. If that was the case . . . if the man had done anything to frighten her . . . Brandon would see he paid.

  He went to free the horse and then climbed up beside Laura, taking his place ever so carefully—almost fearful that she might break should he get too close.

  “I’m afraid this is a snug fit,” he said in apology. “Not that I mind.”

  She said nothing but stared straight ahead as Brandon flicked the reins.

  They rode in silence for well over ten minutes before Brandon decided he’d had enough. He directed the horse toward a sea-view park and found a place where he could stop the carriage.

  “Laura, you have to tell me what’s wrong. I can see that you’re very upset, and I must have the reason.”

  She looked at him for a moment and nodded. “And I intend to give you the reason, because you’re the only one I can tell.”

  He didn’t like the way this was starting to sound. Reaching out, he grasped her gloved hand. “Then tell me.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Laura appeared about to speak, but then she simply exhaled. She did this three more times before finally beginning her story.

  “My sister is at the house. We brought her home yesterday.”

  “She’s left her husband?”

  “Not exactly.” Laura bowed her head and looked at their entwined hand
s.

  Brandon wasn’t about to let her drift into silence again. “Tell me what happened. Why did you bring your sister to the house?”

  Laura met his gaze. “She was . . . He . . . beat her.”

  Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Beat her?”

  “Very nearly to death.” Her breathing came faster and in shallow little gasps. “He . . . he . . . is a monster. She . . . she only . . . she only . . .”

  Brandon could see she was starting to strain for air, and so he cupped her chin so she’d focus on him. “Breathe deep. Laura, do you hear me?”

  She stared at him, wide-eyed and pale. Very slowly she did as he told her. At first Brandon wasn’t sure she would ever draw a lungful of air, but finally, after several frightening moments, Laura finally seemed to calm.

  “Does Malcolm know she’s with you?”

  Laura shook her head. “I . . . don’t know. He wasn’t there. Carissa said he . . . he was gone on business.”

  Laura slumped against him and began to cry. Sobbing long and hard, she cried for quite some time. When finally she slowed to little hiccuping sniffed whimpers, Brandon felt he could question her further.

  With great tenderness, he dried her face with his own handkerchief. “I know this has been hard on you. I am so very sorry. What is your father doing about it?”

  She shook her head and whispered, “He doesn’t know.”

  “What do you mean? With your sister there—how can he not?”

  “Carissa . . . doesn’t want them to know. She told Mother and Father that she caught her heel in the hem of her dress and fell down the stairs. They believe her.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  She looked him in the eye. “I told you before that he was violent. I told you.”

  “Yes, I remember.” He reached up and touched her cheek, but Laura pulled away.

  “I was certain he’d done this to her,” she continued. “I told Carissa so, and she finally admitted it. Then she swore me to secrecy.”

  Brandon knew that many a man struck his wife and generally everyone looked the other way. It was just one of those things that happened . . . with some people. He bit back an angry sarcastic remark about Malcolm’s character. Laura was in no mood for his anger, righteous or otherwise.

  “Why wouldn’t she want your parents to know the truth?” he asked.

  Laura shook her head. “She believes herself to be with child.”

  For a moment, Brandon couldn’t speak. What could he say? A husband had full rights to his wife and children. The law would not intercede in most cases to protect a woman who had endured such treatment. To suggest otherwise to Laura would be a cruel thing to do. Laura was no fool—no doubt she’d already considered what type of legal recourses might belong to her sister.

  “And Carissa said Malcolm is gone somewhere on business, so he hasn’t tried to see her?”

  Laura met his gaze. “No. Thankfully. I may have shot him had he come around.”

  The complete seriousness of her statement caused Brandon to feel a wave of cold run through him. “Laura, listen to me. You cannot take this matter into your own hands. Promise me you’ll not go anywhere near Malcolm Lowe. I cannot allow you to risk your life.”

  “It’s too late for that now, Brandon,” she said in a quiet, even tone. “We have to find a way to stop him—to make him pay for all he’s done.”

  “Revenge for your sister isn’t what this investigation is about. It’s about bringing a man to a fair trial. It’s about proof and evidence that will reveal his guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. Laura, this cannot become a personal vendetta.”

  She gave a harsh laugh. “Oh, it’s definitely too late to stop that now.”

  He took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him in the narrow buggy seat. “Listen to me. You have to be reasonable, Laura. Malcolm Lowe would just as soon put you in the ground as speak to you. If he would treat Carissa this way, just imagine what he would do if he found out you were trying to see him imprisoned.”

  “I don’t care. He has to pay, Brandon.” Tears formed again in her eyes. “God must punish him for what he’s done to Carissa.”

  “And God will,” Brandon asserted. “God will. Not you. Not me. You must leave this in God’s hands, Laura. He hasn’t abandoned us. He hasn’t even abandoned Carissa. You need to trust that God will avenge this wrong on Carissa’s behalf.”

  Laura said nothing, but neither did she turn away from him. A single tear slid down her cheek, and Brandon reached up to wipe it away. “The Bible says that God puts our tears in His bottle. I think I’ll just keep this one for Him.” Brandon pressed the damp finger to his lips.

  “So we let him go on hurting her?” Laura asked. “We send my sister back into the arms of the man who tried to end her life for simply asking him about his place of employment?” Brandon watched as her eyes blazed with emotion.

  “That’s all it was, Brandon. Carissa had gone to surprise him at work and learned he had never been employed at the mill. So she asked him about it, and he beat her. Do you know that my sister prayed for death? She wanted to die. She wanted to leave this world and all the pain behind.”

  Laura squared her shoulders and looked straight ahead. “He did things to her that I cannot—will not—repeat. I had no idea a person could even think of inflicting such harm on another.”

  “But even so,” Brandon said, keeping his voice low in hopes of stilling her rage, “even so . . . you cannot change what happened. Your sister is safe for now. We will do what we can to see that she remains in the care of your family. I will do everything in my power to see that Malcolm is arrested. Even if we don’t have all the evidence of what his current plans are and who his cohorts are, I will explain the situation to the general. We will take him into custody, and God have mercy on his soul . . . for he will likely hang. All I ask . . . all I beg of you, Laura, is that you would not have anything further to do with this situation. I no longer want your help in this investigation. I knew what I was getting myself into when I delayed my retirement to help in bringing Lowe to justice, but you didn’t. Do not put yourself in harm’s way for the hope of revenge. I love you, and I cannot lose you.”

  Laura was silent, and Brandon wasn’t even sure she’d heard his declaration. When next she spoke, he was certain she hadn’t.

  “I will see him pay for what he’s done. If that causes me grief or injury . . . so be it.” She looked at Brandon and shook her head. “And may no one have mercy on Malcolm Lowe . . . especially God.”

  Two days before Thanksgiving the doctor confirmed Carissa’s suspicion that she was indeed with child. She had healed from her injuries for the most part, although there were faint smudges of bruising still to be seen here and there. What hadn’t been seen was anything of Malcolm Lowe. And then without warning, the day before Thanksgiving, he showed up at the house looking for his wife.

  Laura was with her Father when Malcolm was announced. Her emotions had calmed considerably during the weeks of his absence, but her desire for revenge hadn’t abated. She sat in silence watching Malcolm as he strode into the sitting room as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “I’m hoping that you might know where Carissa has gotten off to,” he said, as though describing a kitten that had gone astray.

  “She is here with us,” Father replied, getting to his feet. “She has been recovering from her fall.”

  “Fall?” Malcolm asked innocently. “What fall are you speaking of? Is she all right?”

  Laura wanted to get up and slap the look of concern from his face. Instead, she sat and coolly observed the man who had caused her sister so much pain.

  “I had to go away on business. I had no idea she’d taken a tumble.”

  Father frowned, and Laura knew he was thinking “a tumble” didn’t begin to account for the damage done to his daughter. Laura wanted very much to ask what kind of business had taken Malcolm away for so long, but she said nothing. It was as if they were all playing some
sort of strange chess match—each waiting for the other to make a mistake.

  Laura knew that her father had no idea that Malcolm had beat Carissa, but he did know that Malcolm had lied about his job at the mill. He would also have little respect for a man who was so unconcerned with his wife’s welfare that he could be gone for weeks at a time and not let her know of his whereabouts.

  On the other hand, Laura was more than aware of Malcolm’s cruelty. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him as though he might grow horns and a tail at any moment. She had never before hated anyone, but now she hated this man. She could feel the anger boil inside her. It was all she could do to keep her seat.

  She fought with her emotions and reasoning. The inner battle was fiercer than any she’d ever known. If she said nothing about the truth, Malcolm would reclaim her sister and take her home to dominate again. If she did say something, he might well deny it and then it would be Laura’s word against his, for surely Carissa would say nothing.

  “Yes, apparently she fell the very day you left,” Father was telling Malcolm. “She suffered a great deal of bruising and pain. The doctor said it was a wonder she didn’t lose the child.”

  “Lose the child?” Malcolm asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “My sister is going to have a baby.”

  Malcolm turned to Laura, as though seeing her for the first time. His lips curled into a grin. “A baby. Imagine that? Well, this is a great day.”

  Father smiled. “Indeed it is. I thought perhaps you had already suspected the news.”

  “Not at all,” Malcolm declared, appearing quite proud of himself. “I had hoped, of course. We both did. Carissa and I want to have a large family.”

  Laura feared all accountability and reason was lost, but her father surprised her. “And how will you support that large family, if I might be so bold as to ask? I know that you have not been employed by the flour mill, as you had once told me. And, since you have been quite willing to seek me out for support, I believe I’m entitled to an answer.”