“I shan’t use the crutches.”
She looked up into his stubborn gaze. “I see.”
“I shall be fine with the cane.” David flicked a glance toward the stick lying on the bed.
“Well, your one leg is a bit out of proportion, but the black cloth helps hide that. I really think this is the best we can do.”
“Hmpf.”
What was he thinking? When he got that faraway look in his eyes, she couldn’t follow him.
“Do you have a better idea?” She almost hoped he didn’t, as it would negate all her labor.
“If I were in London, I’d wear a caped greatcoat.”
“Ah. Well, we’re not, and I don’t think I could find one of those in Independence, especially not in August. You’d look more peculiar wearing a heavy woolen coat in this heat than you do with an odd leg.”
He winced, and she supposed he felt she was being indelicate. Of course she wouldn’t chatter on about a gentleman’s legs in public. She wouldn’t so much as glance at them. But he didn’t know how discreet she could be.
She stood and reached for the cane. “Take a turn down the hallway, and see what you think.”
He did so, holding himself almost straight. She could tell he attempted to limp as little as possible. When he came back into the room, she tilted the mirror on top of the dresser.
“Look in here. Tell me if you don’t see a fine gentleman.”
David looked grudgingly. “I suppose it will have to do.”
“Yes. If you wish to go to church this week, it will.”
“And there’s no way Dr. Lee would consent to remove the cast tomorrow?”
“No way on this green earth.”
He sighed. “All right then. And you’ve spoken for a buggy?”
“I have. A driver will bring it here Sunday morning in plenty of time. I shall return it after our outing.”
She could tell he wasn’t entirely satisfied with that arrangement, but she wasn’t about to change it now. She gathered up her sewing things and put them in the small bag where she stored them.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to put in a few hours working for the Simmonses this afternoon. I shall see you at supper.”
David’s expression fell even more. “Of course. And thank you.”
She wished she hadn’t mentioned her work, but she’d taken the equivalent of nearly a full day off, unpaid, to see him decently clothed for church. Mrs. Simmons had a long list of chores she’d wanted completed this morning. Millie would do well to finish it by evening. If only David had been content to wear the pinned trousers to church! But no. She could understand his feeling on that. She didn’t think he was an especially vain man, but who could feel confident with pins and a streak of plaster showing? It would be worse than a lady allowing her petticoats to show.
After four days of gambling and wending home to his cramped hotel room half drunk in the early morning, Peregrin came to a decision. It came about when he woke past noon with a violent headache and five hundred dollars less than he’d had the day before.
He examined himself distrustfully in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair matted, his face covered in an unbecoming stubble—and his hands shook so badly he didn’t dare shave.
Turning away in disgust, he cursed the shabby hotel. In New York he’d have rung for a houseman and asked for a drink and a moderate breakfast. He could even get someone to shave him there.
Here, he was on his own.
Sinking down on the edge of the narrow bed, he considered what to do. First, he decided, he would dress and go downstairs to partake of breakfast. A look at his watch disabused him of that notion. It was closer to dinnertime, and he couldn’t get a midday meal here. He would seek out a restaurant and then look for a better hotel. His pitcher held water, and he poured some in a cup. A swig of the lukewarm liquid took away some of the stale dryness in his mouth. With trembling hands, he dressed and added another task to his mental list: find that laundry where he could get a bath. Both his clothes and his person badly needed cleansing.
Finally he brushed his hair almost flat and made a fair attempt at shaving. It took him awhile to staunch the bleeding from the three nicks he made, but at last he felt he was ready to venture into the daylight world of Independence.
Once more he faced his reflection.
“Buck up, old boy.”
He scowled at himself. He couldn’t keep on like this. Freedom from responsibility was nice to a point, and he enjoyed not having anyone looking over his shoulder and scolding him when he behaved badly. But he knew he must change his ways, or he’d wind up penniless. His luck had turned sour since he’d come to America, and he had enough sense left to know that this wasn’t the time to push it.
He needed to stop both drinking to excess and losing money. Immediately. If he went on the way he was, he’d be penniless within a week.
And he needed to do two positive things, also at once: find better lodgings and start looking for David Stone.
Millie considered it a triumph when she got David to church on Sunday. Not that he resisted—in fact, he was eager to go. The Hardens had invited them to take dinner at the parsonage after the service.
Getting David dressed and groomed for church was her first challenge in the morning. She got ready early, putting on her brown traveling dress and her best hat. She sent Billy to set out David’s shaving things and help him into his clean smallclothes and a shirt she’d starched and ironed to perfection, along with the modified trousers. When she came upon the scene, David was tying his necktie, and Billy was hovering with the cane. Apparently Billy had managed all the hooks, as she couldn’t discern from two yards distant where the gusset met the seam.
David looked so handsome, she caught her breath and studied his reflection in the looking glass. His face seemed to have dropped ten years. She realized that she had grown accustomed to the lines and pallor the pain had brought to his face since the accident. Now he seemed more like the dashing gentleman she’d first met in Oregon. Not young, but certainly not old. A man in his prime.
She noted that he was also looking at her in the mirror. His hands had stilled with the ribbon half tied, and his blue eyes searched her face for—what?
Smiling, she stepped forward. “Don’t you look fine? Billy, thank you for helping Mr. Stone this morning.”
“Yes’m.” Billy ducked his head in acknowledgment and sneaked a glance at David.
“Give him two bits, will you, Mildred?”
She went to the bedside table, where David’s latest reading material and a few coins lay near the lamp. Twenty-five cents was an awfully large tip for the boy, but she didn’t argue. David was in a sunny mood this morning, and who was she to dispute his largesse?
“Thank you,” Billy muttered. He turned to observe David, who had finished with his necktie and now reached for his frock coat. “Help you, sir?”
Billy held the coat and handed David his cane as he turned.
“Thank you, Wilfred,” David said. “Will you be able to help me down the stairs now?”
“Surely can, sir.”
“Good. Let me just get my wallet.”
“Shall I bring your Bible?” Millie asked.
“Thank you.”
She picked it up from the dresser and placed her own smaller brown one on top. These and her handbag she carried down in the wake of the two men. David really was doing better these days, though he still had to pause on each step and make sure he was balanced before venturing to the next.
The buggy was waiting, with the driver’s saddle horse tied behind it. When David was seated and Millie had taken the reins, the driver tipped his hat and rode off on the horse.
“Let me drive,” David said.
Millie eyed him askance. “Do you think you’re ready?”
“Of course I’m ready. It’s my leg that was injured this time.”
She flinched at the “this time,” a flagrant reminder that she’d as good as cau
sed his earlier shoulder wound. Well, it wasn’t her fault that the stage had overturned.
“I’m in the driver’s seat,” she pointed out.
“So what? I’m sure the horse won’t mind, so long as I adjust the reins.”
She wanted to dig her heels in, but it struck her suddenly that the mood for the day lay in her lap. Did she want a peevish, out-of-sorts man with an acerbic tongue to accompany her today, or a charming gentleman who’d had his first opportunity in months to drive? She suspected that men of David’s social caliber looked upon their right to drive the same way some women regarded their right to pour tea.
She said no more but handed over the reins and whip.
They reached the church in good time, as David didn’t allow the horse to slack. She helped him to the ground and then unhitched the horse, led him into the shed beside the church, and covered him with a blanket the owner had provided. During this interval, David stood waiting and frowning. Did he think he was in danger of being perceived as a lesser man because the woman accompanying him tended the horse? Such notions bordered on the ridiculous, but Millie could see this wasn’t the time to say so.
“Didn’t you used to live in Independence?” she asked as she removed the horse’s bridle.
“Yes. Five years. I kept a mercantile.”
“Do you want to visit any of your old acquaintances, now that you’re feeling better?”
“Don’t think so.”
Millie was not too surprised at this—more than a decade had passed since David’s move to Oregon. A lot of the people he’d known in Independence had probably moved on, too. Apparently he hadn’t formed close friendships here in the past, which made for fewer complications now—though the distraction of a larger social circle might have been welcome during the healing phase.
When she was ready, she took their Bibles and her purse from the buggy. David offered his left arm and carried the cane in his right hand. He halted only a little as they walked to the church door.
When they reached the heavy portal, he pulled on the handle and staggered a bit, catching himself with his cane. Millie grabbed the edge of the door and put her strength into the pull. Together they got it open, and David leaned against it.
He caught his breath and nodded. “After you, madam.”
He was treating her like a lady. Not that he’d ever disdained her, but when they’d embarked on the stagecoach journey, he’d held himself aloof and made it plain that he wanted nothing to do with her. Now he was going as far as his health would allow to be courteous—beyond that, to pay small but welcome attention to her.
Millie smiled at him. “Thank you.”
The church pews were about half-filled, and Mr. Harden was just taking his place on the platform at the front.
“I see a place there.” Millie pointed as discreetly as she could to a half-empty bench near the back.
David nodded, waited until she laced her hand once more through the crook of his arm, and then led her toward it.
“She’s a hard worker,” David said, watching Millie from a distance. He and Pastor Harden sat in the parsonage garden, talking and drinking coffee in the shade while Millie and Mrs. Harden strolled about looking at the hostess’s flowerbeds. Apparently Mrs. Harden loved to garden and used her blooms in decorating the sanctuary.
“Does that surprise you?” Joseph Harden asked.
“Some. When I first met Millie, I saw her more as a lady of leisure. A woman of means.”
“But you’ve told me that was a false impression.”
“Yes.” It still troubled David. “She’s always working now. She says that I don’t need her, so she can spend all day cleaning and doing laundry for other people.”
“She wants to support herself. To prove she’s not helpless—or dependent on you.”
David nodded. “I suppose you’re right. One thing she was then and is still—she’s independent. I think she hated having to rely on me. But I didn’t mind helping her.” After a moment, his conscience prompted him to add, “Well, maybe at first. I was afraid she saw me as easy pickings—again.”
“But you don’t think that now?” Harden said.
“No. I’ve watched her long enough to know this new attitude of hers is genuine. A lazy person wouldn’t keep up the drudgery so long. And most thieves are lazy.”
“Mildred has told my wife and me quite a bit about her early life.” The minister eyed him thoughtfully. “It’s not my place to reveal any of that to you, but I believe we know her well enough to assure you that she has truly changed her ways. She wants to please God now, and she’s contrite about some of the things she did in the past—including the plot she became involved in that nearly killed you.”
“She’s told me she didn’t know that fellow wanted me dead.”
“And we believe her.” Mr. Harden sipped his coffee.
“Did she tell you how she got her Bible?”
The minister smiled. “Yes, she did. And she said she had some cockeyed notion at first that if she read from it, she’d atone somehow for what she’d done. But the message touched her heart, Mr. Stone. I firmly believe Millie is a true sister in Christ now.”
David watched the two women and mulled that over. Would this have mattered to him ten years ago? It did now, but for most of his life, faith had not been the prime criterion he considered in a woman. Instead, if he were looking for a wife, he would look at her family’s pedigree, her appearance, her manners, and her fortune or lack of one.
Millie had no family to be proud of. The only one of her relatives David had met died while committing a robbery. She was pretty, in an earthy way, with her glossy auburn hair and green eyes. Her complexion was quite good, and when she was able, she dressed well. But today she wore a simple brown dress that had neither style nor allure. He studied her posture and her manner as she conversed with Mrs. Harden, and he found nothing to criticize. Of course she didn’t have two dimes to rub together. But was fortune really that important?
“You have long thoughts, Mr. Stone.”
“Yes.” He turned his attention back to Mr. Harden. “Did she really think she could redeem herself with good deeds?”
“She had some idea along those lines, I believe. That if she did more and more good, and if she turned aside when tempted to do evil, this might save her, and eventually she could become a good Christian through her own efforts.”
“I trust you and your wife were able to set her on the right path.”
“She’d discovered her error by the time she came to us. She realized what she’d believed didn’t fit with what Christ said. That she had to trust Him in order to be relieved of her transgressions.”
David inhaled carefully. He’d had many long hours in his bed at the hotel to consider this very thing. “I’m afraid I was a rather proud and vain young man and did not improve much with age.”
“Oh?” Mr. Harden smiled. “Is that still your outlook, sir?”
David shook his head. “Twice in the past two years, God has laid me low. The first time, I made a slow recovery, but I renewed my fellowship with the Almighty.”
“Praise be.”
“Yes. This time, the Lord is showing me other lessons.”
CHAPTER 26
Peregrin entered the doctor’s office and looked around. Two men and a woman holding a baby sat in the waiting room. He took a seat. About ten minutes later, a pretty, round young woman came from deeper in the house.
“You can go in, Mrs. Jackson.”
The baby’s mother rose and shuffled through the doorway. The woman who’d directed her looked at Peregrin.
“May I help you, sir?”
“Yes, I hope so.” Peregrin stood and walked over to her.
For several days, he’d inquired for David Stone at various hotels, but without success. He was beginning to think he’d missed his quarry after all. David must have gone on eastward. Peregrin feared he’d have to give up.
His search had brought one good result—he’
d found a couple of hotels that offered better rooms than his own and promptly changed his lodgings. He’d taken his time settling in and getting used to his new environment. And he’d found a higher class of poker game in one of the other hotel guests’ sitting room. But he hadn’t allowed himself to get in too deep again. Right now he had nearly as much cash as he’d arrived with, and he intended not to lose it all.
He was determined to catch wind of David. That took precedence over everything else. A newcomer at the poker game last night had mentioned that he’d taken an English gentleman from a stagecoach wreck a couple of months previously. Peregrin had perked up at that news. It was the first clue he’d gotten, and on inquiry, the man had told him that he’d delivered the gentleman to a local doctor’s house. Peregrin had gotten the address, and this morning he’d found the office and was feeling hopeful.
“I’m looking for a British man,” he said with a smile that he hoped was winsome.
“Oh, an acquaintance of yours, sir?” Her face lit up, and she smiled back. His accent seemed to have that effect on American women.
“Yes ma’am. And I heard that Dr. Lee treated such a man several weeks ago. I’m trying to find him. Uh…” He glanced about. The other two men were listening, but he couldn’t see any way out of letting them hear. “His name’s Stone.”
“Oh yes,” the woman said. “The doctor tells me Mr. Stone is on the mend. He’ll probably leave town soon. He’s very fortunate to have made a good recovery.”
Peregrin nodded, smiling. “I’m so glad to hear it. Could you tell me where he’s lodging, please?”
“Well, I don’t see any harm in that. Are you a relation of his, sir?”
“No. Well, yes, in a spotty sort of way. My sister is married to his cousin, don’t you see?”
She laughed. “Yes, I do see. Well, you might try the Frontier Hotel.” She gave him directions and assured him it wasn’t far.
Peregrin thanked her heartily and departed, avoiding the other men’s direct gazes. People would remember him, but there was no help for it. He’d have to leave town as soon as he’d finished his business, that was all. Even better, he could wait until David left Independence. Perhaps he could follow him and make sure David’s next mishap took place a good distance from here. Then people wouldn’t connect it to his inquiries. Maybe he could even travel with David.
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 85
