Hidden in a Whisper

by Tracie Peterson

  Tomas handed him the reins and stepped back as Braeden urged the horse forward.

  Jeffery moaned and leaned back against the seat, clutching his head. Rachel felt instantly guilty for his misery. “I’m so sorry this happened, Jeffery. I blame myself.”

  “You didn’t hit me,” Jeffery muttered, even now trying to keep matters light.

  Rachel smiled. He had become such a dear friend. “When we get to the doctor’s house, I’ll run across the street and get Simone.”

  “No, don’t worry her,” Jeffery replied.

  “I’m not about to endure her wrath by not telling her that her husband has been hurt and is bleeding from a head wound in the doctor’s office, while she sits in the parlor knitting.”

  Braeden laughed and Jeffery attempted to. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, seeming a bit more alert. “She has a temper, you know.”

  “What woman doesn’t?” chuckled Braeden.

  They pulled up to the doctor’s house, and Rachel was grateful to see the warm glow of lamplight in the window. She hurried ahead of the men and knocked on the door. It took a few minutes, but soon a robe-clad man opened the door.

  “Yes, what’s the emergency?”

  Rachel knew the gray-headed Dr. Krier because his daughter Alice was one of her Harvey Girls. “Doctor, Jeffery O’Donnell was hit on the head tonight. He’s bleeding pretty badly.”

  The doctor looked past her to where Braeden was helping Jeffery down from the buggy. “Bring him in. I’ll get some more light, and we’ll see how bad it is.”

  Rachel nodded. “Thank you.” She stood back to allow Braeden to bring Jeffery into the house.

  “Come on back here,” Dr. Krier called.

  They entered his office, where he instructed Braeden to lay Jeffery down on the table. Rachel decided now would be the best time to go for Simone. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she told Jeffery and gave his hand a squeeze.

  She was nearly to the door when, to her surprise, Braeden caught her by the arm. “Wait up, there. You aren’t going out alone.”

  “I’ll be just fine. It’s only a few steps,” she protested.

  “Yes, and it was only a locked office that brought Jeffery a head injury. I’m going with you.”

  The look of determination on his face told Rachel that Braeden would do just as he said. And actually, she found herself grateful that he cared so much. “All right,” she replied.

  Rachel hesitated at the O’Donnells’door, not wanting to tell Simone what had happened. But as it was, Simone took the news very well, immediately grabbing up her shawl and heading out the door.

  “I knew something was wrong,” she told Rachel as they hurried back to the doctor’s office. “I just had this feeling.”

  “He doesn’t look all that bad,” Braeden told her.

  Simone looked up at him as they entered the doctor’s home. “Thank you for being there, Mr. Parker. I’ve heard such nice things about you.”

  “Oh?” he said quizzically. “I wonder from whom.”

  Rachel bit her lip as her cheek flamed. She could feel the heat even though the night air was chilly. But Simone saved her from any further embarrassment.

  “Why, from my husband, of course.”

  Braeden grinned and looked at Rachel. “Of course.”

  Simone walked into the doctor’s office without any apparent fear of what she had to face. Rachel admired her strength because she herself had been trembling ever since finding Jeffery. Braeden must have sensed this, as well, for he put his arm around her and pulled her close.

  “Jeffery O’Donnell, I suppose you are getting me back for all the worry I’ve caused you,” Simone stated as she went to her husband’s side.

  “Mrs. O’Donnell, good to see you,” the doctor said. He sat at the head of the table threading a needle.

  “Yes, Mrs. O’Donnell,” Jeffery said with a lopsided grin, “good to see you.”

  “I’m gonna have to stitch your husband up,” the doctor said, turning his attention to Simone. “It’s not all that bad, and once I’m done he’ll be nearly good as new. However, he’s lost a good bit of blood.”

  Simone paled a bit at the final statement, and Rachel knew it stemmed from Simone’s painful memory—one that included Simone hitting an attacker over the head and believing herself to have killed the man because of all the blood.

  “Head wounds do that,” the doctor continued. “Funny thing, though, usually they aren’t all that bad, even when they bleed like they are. It’ll make him light-headed, though. You’ll need to keep him in bed for the next few hours.” Simone nodded but said nothing. The doctor finished preparing the needle, then looked back up at Simone. “Why don’t you all wait out there. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

  “I want to be with my husband,” Simone insisted.

  Rachel stepped away from Braeden and put her arm around Simone. “Don’t you think it would be better, given your condition?

  We’ll be right here if Jeffery needs you.”

  Jeffery nodded. “Go. I can’t cooperate with the doc if I’m all worried about you passing out on the floor.”

  Simone reluctantly let go of his hand. “Very well.”

  She let Rachel lead her into the front room and sat down with a sigh on Doc’s very worn sofa. “I don’t suppose it would do any good for me to have argued.”

  Rachel laughed. “Not in this case.”

  “Why in the world did this happen?” Simone questioned, looking to her friend for answers.

  “I don’t know,” Rachel replied. “Strange things have been happening at the resort. There were some discrepancies in the inventory, and we’re pretty sure someone is stealing from the storage rooms. The dining room things seem to be safe now that we have Tomas sleeping in the back room, but Braeden is still losing things from time to time. Then not long ago I found wax on the floor in my office—” “You what?” Braeden interrupted.

  “I found wax on the chair and on the floor,” Rachel said, knowing he would be furious that she had kept it from him. “And there were some correspondences missing from my desk.” She looked up, feeling rather sheepish about the whole matter. “I meant to tell you.”

  “I should hope so,” Braeden replied, his brow knitting together as he considered this news. “What correspondences?”

  “Honestly, it didn’t seem like anything important. They were just letters related to the … inventory.”

  “And that didn’t seem important?” he asked.

  “Well, not as important as the fact that the original inventory list was also missing. I thought Reg had come to get it, but he hasn’t seen it either. I sent Tomas with a telegram to Topeka, in hopes of having them send me another list.”

  “And when do you suppose you were going to get around to telling me about this?” Braeden questioned, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair opposite her.

  Simone laughed. “You two make such a funny couple. I think you’re perfect for each other.”

  Rachel turned to stare at her in absolute horror. “Simone!”

  “Mrs. O’Donnell, I couldn’t have put it better,” Braeden replied.

  “Thank you, but if you are to marry my best friend, then you must call me Simone.”

  “Simone!” Rachel declared again. Now Braeden would not only know that she had discussed everything with her friend, but he had Simone’s blessing as well.

  “Oh, stop being such a ninny,” Simone said, patting Rachel’s knee. “I could tell the man loved you from the moment I opened the door. Look at the way he’s so attentive to you, the way he worries after you, the possessive way he treats you. For goodness’sake, Rachel, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Rachel’s only put off because it is taking her a while to figure out what’s going on,” Braeden countered with a grin.

  “I suppose we women can be that way,” Simone replied. “Jeffery says there’s a lot of times when I don’t know what’s good fo
r me.”

  Braeden nodded as if in complete agreement.

  Rachel wanted to get up and run. To be cornered by two of the people who meant more to her than anyone else was almost more than she could stand. Simone seemed to understand, however, and took hold of Rachel’s hand.

  “Please don’t hate me for what I’ve said. You know how I am about speaking my mind. It’s just that when I saw how he looked at you, I was certain of his feelings for you.” Then turning to Braeden, Simone added, “However, Mr. Parker, you are not to take advantage of my outburst.”

  “I will adhere to your request, only if you acquiesce to call me Braeden.”

  She nodded and craned her neck in the direction of the doctor’s office. “I wonder what’s taking so long. I’ve always teased Jeffery about being hardheaded—I guess now I have proof. The doctor probably can’t get the needle through his thick skull.”

  Rachel secretly wished the doctor would hurry up, too, so she could make her way back to Casa Grande and be rid the scrutiny of her good friend. But then a troubling thought came to mind: She’d be making that trip back with Braeden, and what had seemed like such a short distance when walking with Jeffery now loomed ahead of her like a cross-country journey.

  “Mrs. O’Donnell, you may come back in,” the doctor called out.

  Simone jumped to her feet and hurried past, leaving Rachel and Braeden alone.

  “So you’ve been talking about me behind my back, eh?” Braeden questioned.

  Rachel swallowed hard. “She’s my friend. I come to her for advice.”

  “And will you heed her thoughts on the matter?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, forcing herself to meet Braeden’s eyes.

  “I like her very much,” he said with a grin. “She seems quite sensible.” “I suppose, but—” “Rachel,” Simone said, coming into the room with her arm around Jeffery’s waist, “would you mind lending me Braeden just long enough to get Jeffery settled at home?”

  Braeden was already at Jeffery’s side, much to the other man’s protest. “I’m fine,” Jeffery said. “I’m not as light-headed as before.”

  “That’s great,” Braeden replied. “Then clearer thinking shall pre-vail and you won’t mind the assistance.”

  “Ah, a man of logic,” Simone said with a nod. “Just the one to get this pigheaded husband of mine into bed without an argument.”

  It barely took ten minutes to get Jeffery settled in. Simone hurried Rachel off, reminding her that the grand opening would take place in the morning whether Rachel had any sleep or not.

  “But what if you need help in the night?” Rachel questioned. “I could stay here with you.” The thought had just dawned on her, and Rachel realized it would allow her to forego the ride back to Casa Grande with Braeden.

  “Nonsense. The doctor lives just across the street. I could probably raise the window and yell for him,” Simone said, patting her arm. “Just go. I’m sure Jeffery will be up on his feet in time for the celebration.”

  Rachel nodded and walked onto the front porch with Simone. Braeden stood waiting for her at the bottom of the steps.

  “Take good care of her, Braeden,” Simone said smiling. “She’s very important to me.”

  “Me too,” Braeden replied. “Do let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you or Mr. O’Donnell.”

  “I will,” Simone promised. “Oh, and thank you for what you’ve already done. I’m sure things would have been much worse if you hadn’t been there to help.”

  Rachel made her way down the steps and nervously allowed Braeden to help her into the carriage. She slid to the far edge of the seat and looked away when Braeden gave her a curious look. Instead of saying anything, however, he slid up against her, trapping her between himself and the edge of seat. The contact was electrifying.

  “Braeden,” she whispered. She could feel the warmth of his body generating heat to her own. She wanted to tell him that he should move away but couldn’t bring herself to say the words. There was great comfort in his closeness. “Thank you for your help,” she finally managed to say.

  “You’re quite welcome. I would have been grieved had you turned to someone else.”

  Rachel opened her mouth to speak, then closed it tight. Her heart was in turmoil over the gamut of emotions within her.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  Shaking her head, Rachel replied, “No, why do you ask?”

  “You’re trembling. I can feel you shaking from head to toe.”

  “Oh,” Rachel said, feeling her face flush. She was grateful for the dim moonlight, hoping her embarrassment was less evident in the shadows of night.

  He chuckled, however, leaving her little doubt that he knew the real reason for her quaking body. They drove in silence to the resort, and Braeden happily handed the buggy back over to Tomas when the boy appeared.

  “I know, senor, you say to go to bed, that you take care of the buggy—but I could no sleep. Is Mr. O’Donnell all right?”

  “He’s fine, Tomas. Thank you for waiting up. I need to help Miss Taylor with cleaning up her office, so I appreciate you taking the responsibility for the buggy.” The boy beamed at this compliment and jumped onto the buggy seat.

  “Come along, Rachel, and tell me about the wax you found and the missing papers and why you tremble every time I touch you.” He pulled her close and smiled. “Let’s start with the last part first.”

  Rachel stiffened in his arms, but Braeden moved her up the stairs and inside to her office before she could even protest. Someone had thoughtfully left an oil lamp blazing cheerily since the electricity had been shut down at ten.

  “I told you everything I know,” she finally managed to say. “Someone apparently broke into my office one night. I don’t think it’s really all that important.”

  He pulled her into an embrace and shook his head. “That’s to be decided. It still doesn’t explain why you won’t be honest with me— with yourself.”

  Giggles were heard from the girls’dormitory hall. Rachel glanced over her shoulder to find Ivy and Faith watching the scene. Instantly, Rachel pushed Braeden away and turned to meet the girls head on.

  “What are you doing up at this hour?” she questioned, taking the upper hand.

  “We might ask the same thing,” Ivy said, toying with the ribbon on her robe. She looked seductively at Braeden and smiled. “I don’t suppose you’re having a meeting over the resort at this time of night.”

  “Mr. O’Donnell was injured in here earlier,” Rachel announced. “He was hit over the head by someone who had broken into my office. We’ve just come from the doctor’s office, and Mr. Parker has come to help me get things back in order.”

  “Things look just fine to me,” Ivy said, her gaze never leaving Braeden. Rachel glanced down at the floor and noticed that the blood had indeed been cleaned up. “Gwen must have done that. How thoughtful.” She looked up at the girls. “Well, then, since you know what’s going on, you may go back to bed.”

  The girls smiled at each other, then turned to leave. Rachel heard them giggling, but she didn’t care. She was just surprised to have Ivy leave without a fight. Braeden was already repositioning her desk when Rachel bent down to put the iron doorstop back in place against the wall. But as she picked it up, her hand touched the wet stickiness on the backside. She looked at her hand and saw it stained with blood. Jeffery’s blood. A small gasp escaped her and she dropped the doorstop in fright.

  “What is it?” Braeden questioned, but he quickly saw the cause of her alarm. Taking out his own handkerchief, he wiped the blood from her hand. “It’s all right, Rachel. That’s probably what the thief used to hit O’Donnell.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’m sure you’re right.” She was trembling again and couldn’t stop, only this time it wasn’t Braeden’s nearness that caused her to quake. She kept thinking of how Jeffery could have been killed. How would she have ever explained such a thing to Simone?

  Bra
eden pulled her close. “It’s all over now. It’s all right.”

  “But it could have been so much worse.”

  “But it wasn’t. God had it all under control.”

  Rachel pulled away and frowned. “If God had it under control, then why does Jeffery now have six stitches in his head?”

  Braeden shrugged. “I don’t suppose to have all the answers, but you have to trust God to know what He’s doing, Rachel. Trust is very important.”

  “Trust is hard.”

  “Yes, it is,” Braeden replied. “No one knows that better than I do.

  Trust is believing God is still in control, even when the woman you love walks away. Trust is believing that God can clear your name of wrongdoing, even when everyone around you believes falsely against you.”

  “Oh, Braeden,” she said, realizing the depths to which she had wronged him. It only served to add to her guilt. “I’m so sorry.”

  He put a finger to her lips. “I wasn’t looking for an apology. I only wanted you to know that after questioning God and wondering why in the world He would allow bad things to happen to good people, I came to realize that it isn’t important that I have the answers—it’s only important that I trust Him.”

  She looked into his blue eyes and lost her heart all over again.

  Trust was the key. She knew it as well as she knew anything, but she also knew that letting go and trusting made her very vulnerable. And that frightened her more than anything.

  Braeden was nearly back to his own quarters when Gwen Carson called out to him from the dining room doors. Surprised to find the normally shy young woman calling to him, Braeden stopped immediately and went to see what was wrong.

  “You’re keeping mighty late hours, Miss Carson.”

  “I know,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as if afraid someone might see her. “But I had to tell you something, and I couldn’t do it with Miss Taylor around.”

  Braeden narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

  “I cleaned up the office—” “Yes, I saw that. It was a kind act of responsibility.”

  “I didn’t tell you about it in order to receive praise. It’s just that … well … there was something else.”