0764214101

by Tracie Peterson

  Woody pulled the wagon to a complete stop and hopped down. “Whatcha got there, Jimmy?”

  His son turned, a tear dripping down his cheek. He held the bundle in his arms up to his pa.

  As Woody stepped closer, he saw a tiny rabbit with a torn ear. The little guy seemed to be alive, if the little nose twitching up and down was any indication. “We should get him home. I bet Mrs. Goodman can help us find a box for him to place by the stove. We’ll get him all fixed up.”

  Jimmy nodded. But as he tried to stand, he couldn’t get up with the animal in his arms.

  Woody lifted his son and the rabbit in one fell swoop and headed to the wagon. The boy weighed next to nothing. Dirt covered him and his small bundle. Woody settled Jimmy in on the seat beside him, then headed the wagon back toward the house. He looked down at Jimmy and squeezed his hand. They might all be damaged and grieving, but they wouldn’t give up.

  Mrs. Goodman knocked on the doorjamb into the library, which he used as his office. “Sorry to interrupt, Woody, but the mail was tucked into one of the supply boxes.” She laid it down on his desk. “Thought you might like to see it.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Goodman.” Woody looked up at his housekeeper and felt the need to say more. “And not just for the mail. You’ve been wonderful to us all these years and have had to go through so much with us. Thank you. I don’t say it enough, but I’m grateful.”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, he’d shocked her, because his stoic and no-nonsense housekeeper had tears in her eyes. “I’ve hated watching you boys suffer. That’s for sure. And lately, you’ve had this dark cloud following you around. I’ve been quite worried.” She sniffed. “It’s much appreciated to hear your words of kindness.”

  “I’m sorry they’re so overdue.”

  “Stuff and nonsense. We both know that’s not true.” She straightened her shoulders. “Now before I head back to the kitchen, do you need anything? I promised Jimmy that we would check on the bunny before he went to bed.”

  “No, I’m fine.” Using a letter opener, he opened the envelope from Indiana, praying that it was what he hoped.

  “You just let me know, if you do.” Her feet shuffled away.

  “Wait, Mrs. Goodman?” A sliver of hope started in his chest after reading the first few lines.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you mind coming back after checking on the rabbit? I have some news.”

  “Not at all. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  Woody nodded and went back to the letter. It seemed Miss Lillian Porter accepted his offer of the nanny position and was on her way. After weeks of waiting and no word, he’d given up hope. He glanced at the postmark. Apparently, it’d been his own fault. Had he not avoided town for so long, he could have gotten his mail sooner. He checked the calendar on the wall. Good grief! And she would arrive in just two days’ time.

  Woody jumped up from his desk and thought of all the things they’d need to accomplish in two days. Excitement surged through him. Maybe Jimmy would finally speak again. Oh, it might take time, but Woody just knew that Miss Porter was the answer.

  As he paced the room, Mrs. Goodman entered. “All right, Woody, so what’s this news?”

  “The lady I was telling you about in Indianapolis?”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s coming. She’s on her way right now.”

  “Why, that’s wonderful news! Jimmy needs someone so badly.” Mrs. Goodman pulled a pencil from behind her ear and her tattered notepad from out of her apron pocket. “And goodness knows, I’m too old to keep up with the lad. Oh, this will be just what we need. I’ll have to get the room ready for her and I think new curtains would be nice . . . and—”

  “She’ll be here the day after tomorrow,” Woody threw out.

  “Oh my.” Mrs. Goodman dropped her pencil, then picked it up again. “Yes. Well, then . . .” She scribbled furiously on the notepad.

  “Don’t go to any unnecessary trouble. I know how you like to do things, but I’m sure Miss Porter will be happy with the room as it is. You’ve done a wonderful job keeping up the house.”

  Mrs. Goodman left the room, nodding and talking to herself. If he were to guess, the older woman would have the room totally redone and have enough baked goods for an army of soldiers by the time Miss Porter arrived.

  Now if he could just get to her before the town rumors did, he’d be doing well.

  “Run!” Mama’s voice sounded weak. But one look at her eyes told him she meant it. And Jimmy didn’t want to disobey. A sob caught in his throat. Why couldn’t he breathe? But, Mama! Her eyes closed and her hand went limp. She just lay there. He couldn’t leave her.

  The bad man yanked Jimmy up by his arm. “I don’t suppose you know where my treasure is, you snot-nosed kid. . . .” His large hands wrapped around Jimmy’s shoulders and squeezed.

  His breaths came faster and faster. He shook his head.

  The man shook him. Hard. “You sure? You better not be lyin’ to me.” He shook him again and again until his teeth rattled.

  The shaking helped him breathe, though. He had to help Mama. This man scared him. More than spiders and snakes. More than anything. “I don’t know. . . . Mama doesn’t know, either. She always tells the truth. Why’d you hurt her?”

  The man made a face by scrunching up his nose and frowning too big. His voice changed as he made fun of Jimmy. “She always tells the truth.” His big hands shook him again and the mean voice came back. “And I hurt her because she couldn’t help me and got in my way. That’s why.” He looked around the foyer. “And now you’re in my way, and I gotta dispose of you too, you little snoop.” With that, he smacked Jimmy on top of the head with one hand and dragged him by the arm with the other.

  The bad man stopped in front of the closet Mrs. Goodman used for cleaning supplies and mousetraps. He yanked open the door and muttered, “Too small to hide your mother’s body in, but it would do for you, runt.”

  “No, mister, please! Don’t put me in the closet.” Jimmy started to cry. He glanced over at Mama. She hadn’t moved.

  “Shut up!” He yanked harder on Jimmy’s arm. “Might as well just shoot you right here.” It took him less than a second to pull out the revolver from his belt.

  The whirring started in Jimmy’s head again. This time, the spots came faster.

  “Brother . . . Brother . . .” Another voice from outside sang the words.

  The bad man said a word that Papa had told Jimmy never to say. Both of the big man’s hands came around his throat and squeezed until he couldn’t breathe. He whispered, “You better not say a word about me to anyone, you hear me? I’ll kill your pa and your little housekeeper, and I’ll kill everyone in town if you say one word.” And with that, he slapped Jimmy hard in the face.

  Pain shot through his whole head. Tears burned the corners of his eyes.

  “Did you hear me?” The man’s breath smelled rotten. “Not one word. Or I’ll kill them all. It will be all your fault. Just like it’s your fault that your mama’s dead.”

  Mama was dead? No. He shook his head and tears slid down his cheeks.

  “All your fault. If you hadn’t come in here when you did.” He pushed Jimmy into the closet.

  More calls came from outside. Someone was looking for their brother.

  The man’s head jerked to the door and then back to Jimmy. “Not one word. Ever.” Then he slammed the door shut and Jimmy’s world went dark.

  Jimmy sat up in bed with a gasp. The bad dreams wouldn’t stop. Always the same, remembering the day that Mama died. The bad man’s face was burned into his memory, but he couldn’t say anything. Not even if he wanted to.

  He sneaked down the stairs to check on the baby bunny he’d found in the olive grove. It was so tiny. Just like Jimmy. And without its mama. Just like him.

  The big old hawk had been attacking the baby bunny’s mama when Jimmy tried his best to scare off the big bird. But it took off with the mama and left the baby injured and all a
lone.

  As Jimmy brushed his fingers over the soft little head, Jimmy wanted to cry. His new little friend had watched his mama get hurt, too.

  The nightmare lingered in his mind. The memories were so bad. He wanted to tell Papa everything, but he couldn’t.

  If he talked, everyone would die.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Warm June air hit Lillian in the face as she exited the stagecoach. The train ride had been arduous, but the stagecoach had been almost inhumane. Six people had been stuffed inside a space where four would have been more than plenty. She’d even had to give the care of her overnight bag to the driver as there wasn’t room to hold it on her lap.

  Lillian marveled that they’d managed to get all of the luggage stowed on the stage, since overhead another four men had taken up residence due to a lack of space inside. All of the travelers had been men with the exception of one other woman, wife to one of the men. Thankfully, Lillian had been able to sit against the wall of the coach with this woman on her left. The men used decent manners, much to her relief, but never had she known such an uncomfortable ride. She sighed and did her best to put it all behind her. Their arrival in Angels Camp signaled that the worst was behind her.

  It was the first day of a new month and the first day of the rest of her life. She dusted the skirt of her deep green traveling suit with her gloved hands and clouds of dirt surrounded her. What a wonderful way to meet her new employer. Exhausted and filthy. She glanced down at her once-white gloves that were now a dingy brown and rechecked her reticule. The drawstring bag was just as dirty. Could she be more of a mess?

  “Excuse me, miss.” The stage driver climbed back up the stage to unload the bags and trunks.

  Lillian turned. Two other passengers still waited inside the stage, hats in hand. At least they were gentlemen, but oh, goodness, she hadn’t realized she’d stood in everyone’s way as she’d worried over her appearance. What a horrible impression she must have made. She felt the flush rise up her neck. “My apologies.” She moved away, hoping the red in her cheeks would subside before she had to meet Mr. Colton.

  Glancing around, Lillian couldn’t spot anyone waiting for her. The others who’d shared the stage with her had already left. As people bustled along the street, she realized that she waited alone.

  “Need anything else, miss?” The driver stood in front of her, holding out the smallest of her bags.

  “Oh, um . . . no. Thank you.” Lillian took the bag and tightened her grip. “Wait, sir?”

  He turned back around. “Yes?”

  “Are we early?”

  “No, miss. Quite late in fact. I best be going.”

  Lillian watched the stage pull away and then glanced at her pile of trunks and bag sitting in the dirt in front of the general store. Maybe she should make inquiries around town. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know her surroundings in the little town of Angels Camp. She looked beyond the main road with all its buildings. Rolling hills encircled the town, and everything was lush and green. She hadn’t been able to see much from the stage, but now she could survey it all.

  “Welcome to Angels, miss. Can I help you?” A burly man in a sharp white shirt and black vest with a white apron tied around his waist awaited her answer.

  “It appears my ride isn’t here yet. Is it all right to leave my things in front of the store for now?”

  “Of course, of course. Why don’t you come on in and have a cup of coffee?”

  “That sounds lovely, thank you.” Lillian took up the smallest of her bags and headed up the steps. At least she’d have a chance to freshen up. Maybe she should pick up a few items while she was here. She hadn’t inquired of Mr. Colton about how often they made it back to town from the farm.

  The man held the door for her as she entered. “Name’s Clark. Herman Clark. And this here is my store. We’ve got a room in the back for ladies to fix themselves after the long journey. There’s a basin in there, too.” His chest puffed out just a little. “My wife and I wanted the very best here for our travelers.”

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Clark. My name is Miss Porter.” She walked up to the gleaming wood counter. “It’s a lovely establishment.”

  The bell jangled over the door. Mr. Clark pointed toward the rear of the store. “Just head on back if you’d like. There’s pink curtains. You can’t miss it. When you return I’ll have that coffee for you.”

  “Could you make it water?”

  He slapped his forehead. “I plumb wasn’t thinkin’. Of course, you’d want something cool to drink. You just go on ahead, and I’ll have it ready for you when you get back.”

  Lillian headed toward the back. She heard the chattering of women as she looked for the special ladies’ room. If the storekeeper thought she needed cleaning up, then she must be quite a sight. What she wouldn’t give for a long, hot bath right now. The voices behind her motivated her to move a bit quicker. She had no intention of meeting anyone else in the sad condition she found herself. She took off her hat and assessed the situation. First she’d wash her face and repin her hair; then, if there was time, she’d try to brush some of the dust from her skirt.

  The pleasant little room wasn’t hard to find. Nothing like the elaborate rooms back east, but it was very suitable and clean. Removing her gloves, she took a deep breath. She could do this. This was her dream, and she was here! In California. All on her own. The cool water from the basin felt glorious on her skin, and she scrubbed her hands and face, forgetting for the moment about all the dust residing in her traveling clothes. But when she looked in the glass hanging on the wall, she realized the once deep and beautiful green of her suit had turned an ugly greenish gray from all the filth.

  Lillian dug at once into her bag and found the brush. It would take a while, but she was determined to look clean and presentable to her new employer.

  A good bit later, after seeing to herself and cleaning up the mess she’d made, Lillian decided she could face the world. She felt at least partially put back together and walked out to the store, hoping she’d find Mr. Colton waiting for her.

  “I thought maybe you got lost in there.” Mr. Clark chuckled. He extended a glass of water.

  “Oh my. I do apologize for the delay.” Lillian glanced at the clock. Had a half hour passed already? She looked around the store. “Has anyone come for me?” She placed her bag on the floor and took the offered glass. “Thank you.” She immediately drank it down in a most unladylike fashion.

  “Nobody’s come askin’ for you. Not a soul.” The bell jangled again, and he moved to help his customers.

  Placing a hand on her waist, Lillian worked to ease the discomfort growing in her stomach. What if Mr. Colton had decided not to hire her after all? What if something happened to little Jimmy and her services were no longer needed? What if—

  “Miss?”

  She looked up. “Hm?” There, she did it again. Her imagination had taken off without her. She put the glass on the counter and gave him a smile.

  “You all right? You look awfully pale.” Mr. Clark headed toward her with three young women following him like sheep.

  Lillian breathed deep. “Goodness, I do apologize. I’m fine. Just a little tired from all the travel.” She’d come this far. Certainly she could find accommodations for the night if Mr. Colton didn’t arrive. In the morning, she would be sure to hear something.

  “Where did you come from?” The youngest of the three ladies poked her head through the others’ shoulders.

  “Ginny, let’s not pester the poor woman. It’s none of our business.” The taller girl with dark hair lifted her nose a smidge.

  “It’s quite all right, I don’t mind. Today I came in from Copperopolis. But originally, I came from Indiana.” She watched the smallest of the trio’s eyes go wide.

  “Indiana!” The young girl gasped and bounced on her toes. “That’s got to be thousands of miles from here.”

  “I’m not sure how far it is in miles, but it did take many days to arrive in C
alifornia.” Lillian worked to stifle a giggle.

  “Girls, girls, I think we should leave Miss Porter alone. I’m sure she’s got lots on her mind.” Mr. Clark tried to shoo the girls away, but it didn’t work.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to Chicago or New York.” The dark-haired girl leaned in and sighed.

  “Well, I’m from Indianapolis.” Lillian smiled.

  Oohs and aahs emanated from the trio.

  She picked up her bag and began to peruse the store. It fascinated her, since she’d never had to buy anything for herself. Grandmother had seen to everything when she was alive, and once she passed on to glory, Grandfather had all the staff attend to any needs, including arranging for dressmakers to visit Lillian at the house. He made it very clear that he thought it inappropriate for Lillian to go shopping and didn’t like her to leave the mansion except on Sundays. She shook her head. What rubbish. She’d have to learn how to do so many things now. How awful to feel so unprepared for the world.

  As she rounded the corner of an aisle, the school items caught her eye. Hmm, maybe a slate and some chalk would be a good idea to help the boy with his lessons. Footsteps followed her down the long row of amenities and she realized she had a following. The bell jangled again. My, but the store was busy.

  “So why are you out here?” the smallest girl chimed in again after greeting the newcomers.

  “I’m going to be a nanny.”

  “A nanny?”

  “A nanny?”

  All the other girls and Mr. Clark responded at once.

  Lillian nodded.

  “Who would need a nanny out here?” The youngest one turned up her nose. “You don’t look like a nanny, either. You look like one of the wealthy tourists.”

  “Ginny, that’s not polite,” the dark-haired, older girl scolded. She turned to Lillian. “I apologize for my sister’s behavior, Miss Porter.”