Inside his shoe, Nicholas wiggled his sockless toes. Had he been out here only one day? Blisters on his feet, bear-mauling marks on his shoulder, a knot on his head—roughing it was . . . rough. But the mind was a funny thing. Keep it busy looking for bears, following a trail, watching your step, and it doesn’t have time to worry about elections, reputations, and etiquette. Even his collapsed business felt like a minor setback. Maybe that’s why Anne did so well out here but had little patience for city life. So you voted yes on a bridge, Nicholas Lovelace? She came out of hiding to shoot a bear and save your life. Which took more courage?
And still he dreaded going back to Garber. Nick sighed. If he was going to stay in Garber for the duration of his elected term, he’d have to land a new contract quickly. Combined, his hotel fees and office rent were expensive.
He felt Anne lay her head against his back. He covered her hands with one of his own. Today held enough trials. His troubles could wait until they arrived back in town.
“Reverend Holland seems very nice,” Anne murmured against his back. “I’m sad for Finn, throwing away their love to raise Cain. People don’t realize how good they have it.”
“Does this mean you’re content to leave Sammy with them?”
Her arms tightened around him. “No, but I’m determined I will. He has no business being carried through the woods and living a life of secrecy. God gave me another chance to do what is right, and I’ll do it. You might have to pry my hands off of him and drag me away . . .” Her voice faded.
Nicholas tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. “I’m proud of you, Anne. There’s no shame in doing right through heartbreak. Actually, there’s an honor to it. Not many have the strength.”
“You can imagine how badly I wanted to leave once I had Sammy in my arms.”
“You can imagine how strongly I feared you would.”
The steep grade caused the horse to stumble. Anne’s head knocked gently against his back, but she settled into her spot again.
Joel rode directly in front of him, his posture never so rigid as when he was on a difficult assignment. Nick knew Joel well enough to know this was tearing him apart, too, but he wouldn’t let on. The sheriff counted on him to do his duty. Which was all any of them could do.
The streets of Atoka were dark. Bedtime had long since passed. With a wave, the tracker broke away from the line and headed to the north of town. Nick stayed behind Joel and followed Reverend Holland to the only lit house on the block. It was a two-story frame house—tidy and neat with church pews along the front porch instead of chairs. Room for lots of visitors.
Mr. Holland turned his horse at the drive. Sammy was still sleeping soundly. “We don’t have much room, but you gentlemen are welcome to sleep on the floor. Nothing will disturb you there.”
Joel’s saddle creaked. “No thank you, sir. I’ve already got a room rented for me. This is considered county business, so they’re putting me up.”
“How about you, young man?” He turned to Nick.
“I think the hotel will suit me just fine, but thank you for the offer. What time can we come by in the morning?”
“The train leaves at ten o’clock, so you’ll want to leave here by nine. Mrs. Holland will have breakfast on by eight, and you’re invited to join us.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Nick tapped Anne’s hands, prompting her to release him so he could dismount. His first action was to lift her down, pretty awkwardly, considering she was sitting astride in her buckskins and didn’t need his help, but it did him good to be able to take care of her for a change.
Anne went to Reverend Holland and held out her arms.
He passed the sleeping boy to her and then swung down from his horse. “I don’t know how you carried him all day,” he said.“He’s as heavy as an anvil.”
“He does feel heavy, now that you mention it.” Anne brushed her lips across his sleeping brow. “I guess I grew accustomed to him.”
The hotel didn’t shine with the opulence of Garber’s, but the bed looked inviting. Nick’s bag had arrived, thanks to Joel, but his ripped clothes, stained with his blood and the bear’s, would remain on him for a little longer. He wasn’t ready to call it a night.
The moonlit streets directed him to the parsonage, where he stood gazing at the house and wondered how Anne was doing. He closed his eyes and imagined her hovering over the sleeping child, memorizing his features, breathing in his innocent scent. That’s what he’d be doing, and his devotion paled next to Anne’s.
The front door opened. Nick spun on his heel, embarrassed to be caught lurking about.
“Come on over. You’re welcome to stop and visit.” Mr. Holland wore a nightcap and striped robe, but he smiled bright enough that Nick couldn’t imagine that he’d woken him.
“I hate to take any more of your time. The day’s events must have taxed you.”
“I’m not all that old, Mr. Lovelace. Finn was a child of our youth.”
“My apologies. I’m attributing my exhaustion to you.”
Reverend Holland walked to the edge of the porch. “Is the hotel unsuitable? Our offer still stands.” When Nick didn’t answer Mr. Holland took a seat on the bench and patted the space next to him. “You’re exhausted but not sleeping. Let’s talk.”
Nick sat. The reverend opened his palm to reveal a small rubber ball. “I found this in Finn’s old things the day I heard about Samuel. Of course that was the same day I learned that Finn had died. I’d hoped all these years that he’d come back. He didn’t, but he left us the best gift he could’ve.”
“Sammy’s a delightful child.”
“What exactly is your interest in the boy? Deputy Puckett said you were here to assist him, but I don’t think he is your primary concern.”
Nicholas caught the ball that was tossed to him. He bounced it against the boards. “Anne is a friend of my family’s. Her story . . . well, she’s traveled a hard road but has grown past it, and caring for Sammy brought about much of the change.”
“Change that affected more than just her?”
The ball bounced again. “She’s a brave, strong woman—too brave and too strong for her own good sometimes. I had plans . . . I still do, but when she asked me to help, well, she asked me to marry her in hopes that you’d let us raise Sammy. I had to refuse. It seemed backward somehow.”
The reverend tugged on the pointed end of his nightcap. “Our love for Samuel has nothing to do with whether his guardian was married or not, so don’t trouble yourself on that account. But am I mistaken to assume you’d like to make an offer of your own?”
“I lost my business this week. I’m going home to serve on a county board while trying to get charges brought against the judge for corruption.” He squeezed the ball in his fist. “I don’t have much to offer.”
Mr. Holland studied him through a sidelong glance. “You might not be much, young man, but you’re all she has.”
Nick nodded. “She’ll need more than me tomorrow.”
24
Anne had expected to stay up all night watching over Sammy, but to her surprise she slept soundly, waking after the morning light had already illuminated the angular attic room. She sat up slowly, getting her bearings. Her pallet had been hastily assembled from a mismatched assortment of bedding, but it was clean and warm. A pile of blankets at her feet changed shape. Her first response was the joy she felt every morning when Sammy woke and gifted her with his first dreamy smile of the day, but then she remembered where they were.
Anne pulled aside the blankets, kicking her legs until they were unencumbered. The day had already begun, their last day and she’d wasted a goodly portion of it sleeping. She pulled on her boots and laced them, her eyes never leaving the towheaded bundle stretching and scrunching like an inchworm.
The night before she’d offered to wake Sammy to introduce him to Mrs. Holland, but because of the hour and in consideration of her feelings, Mrs. Holland insisted that they go on to bed. A true lady, Mr
s. Holland would be patient and wait her turn, knowing that Anne would soon be gone and she’d have him all to herself.
Anne knew they wouldn’t change their minds. Not after asking a deputy to bring him to them, not after Anne ran off with him and then lost him in a cave. No, Anne would have to abide by her resolve. She would tell him good-bye today and return to Garber without him.
Footsteps sounded on the steep staircase outside her door. Anne scooped Sammy up, blanket and all.
“Mrs. Tillerton? It’s morning.” Mrs. Holland’s hesitancy slapped her with guilt.
“Yes, ma’am.” Anne opened the door. “Do you want to take him downstairs? I’ll fold up the blankets and clear the room.”
“Don’t worry about the room, dear.” She turned and began descending the stairs. “Bring him on down and get yourself some breakfast. I can’t have you leaving on an empty stomach.”
Anne followed her, relishing the arm Sammy had wrapped around her neck as he cuddled into her shoulder. She entered the kitchen, causing a flurry of movement when Reverend Holland rose and Nicholas and Joel remembered their manners in time to imitate him.
“Here’s your seat.” Mrs. Holland tapped the back of a chair as she flew by, her apron strings floating behind her.
Nicholas pulled out the chair and helped her to be seated. He bent over her shoulder and kissed Sammy on the forehead.
“Good morning, little cowboy. You have no idea how badly you scared us last night, do you?”
Sammy brightened, his legs finding their usual restlessness as he bounced. He struggled against Anne, ready to explore this new location, but she wouldn’t release him. Not yet.
Reverend Holland passed her a bowl of scrambled eggs, from which she was able to get two serving spoonfuls while wrestling Sammy, a task she would’ve bungled a few months earlier. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, getting his attention and maneuvered a bite of eggs into his opened mouth.
“He likes eggs, does he?” Reverend Holland beamed at the boy. “Our boy likes eggs, Ma.”
Mrs. Holland managed a smile, but with a sad glance at Anne she turned back to the stove. Sammy grunted for more eggs. Anne fed him, hoping that no one would notice she couldn’t eat a bite. She held the glass of milk for him, smiling at the way he tried to take the glass from her. Already acting so grown up.
Joel cleared his throat. He wiped his mouth on the napkin then laid it on the table. The parlor clock chimed nine. Nine o’clock already? Anne’s throat closed up as she prayed for strength.
On weak limbs she rose, Sammy in one arm and her knapsack in the other. She laid it on the kitchen cabinet in front of Mrs. Holland. Her hand fumbled through her own clothing, scattering it until she found Sammy’s things.
“Here’s his infant formula. He likes cow’s milk and goat’s milk more, but this packed well for the trip, and well, you saw him with the cup. I don’t think he’ll want the bottle for long, but I have no need for it, so you might as well take it.”
The glass bottle, so familiar in the Pucketts’ kitchen, looked strange and forlorn in the new place. She tore her eyes away and looked instead inside the bag. She fished out his wool coat and smoothed it over the counter. “Mrs. Puckett bought him this. She had a secondhand coat of Joel’s but she wanted him to have a new one all his own. She would’ve been here if she could’ve. Be sure and tell him it’s from her, when he’s old enough to understand. And here . . . here are his shoes. They weren’t the sturdiest available, but he wasn’t walking much when I bought them. He’ll need bigger ones before winter is over. I’m sorry I didn’t prepare better, but I’ll send some newer shoes with the post—”
“There’s no need,” Mrs. Holland said. “We consider it a privilege to buy for him.”
“Yes, of course . . .” Anne paused, uncertain of what to do next. She turned to Nick, to Joel, to the reverend. Everyone waited on her.
Sammy batted at the shoes, then seeing her troubled face he put his hand to her cheek. “Momma.” He grinned impishly, but Anne struggled to return his smile.
Yes, your momma loves you, Anne cried in her heart, but in deference to Mrs. Holland, she left the words unsaid.
She turned and presented him to Nicholas one last time. Nick’s red-rimmed eyes were almost her undoing, but she’d see this through. She had to be brave for Sammy. No emotional demonstrations to upset him.
One last ruffle of his hair and Nicholas stepped away, leaving her with the inevitable.
“I know,” Mrs. Holland said. “I know what it’s like to say good-bye to your child.”
Anne nodded. She feared her voice would betray her.
The reverend came to her side. “You’ve taught him what real love is. Some people go their whole life without experiencing it.”
Indeed.
They were all looking at her, waiting. Anne gazed into Sammy’s cherub face that was blissfully unaware that this was good-bye and wondered how much it’d change. If he saw her on the street a year from now, would he know her? Maybe it was better he didn’t.
“And I do love you,” she whispered above his downy head, breathing a prayer, a blessing, any last benediction that would stay with him long after the provisions she’d brought had worn through. One last hug and she placed him in Mrs. Holland’s arms.
That was all. Anne picked up her knapsack and hat and stumbled outside, leaving Joel and Nick to exchange the farewells. The tears began to flow, blurring her vision. She pulled her hat further over her brow and careened toward the street, but before she could reach it, Nick caught her, spun her by the arm, and crushed her into his chest.
She threw her arms around him and sobbed, crying for every milestone she would miss, every innocent kiss, every smile that would belong to others. She cried for her first son that had been stolen from her womb and for every lonely night, past and future, that she would spend with empty arms.
And she cried because, for all her pain, she knew it had been her choice. She had chosen the cup of suffering instead of rebellion, and although her grief was acute, it was different because of it. Her tears were not of anger and frustration. They were healing tears. Tears that washed a clean conscience. Tears that invited God to comfort her instead of tears that accused Him and the world for her pain. She would taste sorrow for a time yet, but she had a peace that God would watch out for Sammy—that He’d trusted Anne with the child for a season, and now it was time to put him in someone else’s care.
“The train,” Joel said.
“Do you think I care about a blasted train?” Nick growled.
Anne laced her fingers behind his back and enjoyed the sensation of being held. This loss she hadn’t endured alone. She had someone safe to turn to, and she had God to sustain her. She would make it through.
She looked up at her friend. Evidently his bags had been waiting for him at the hotel, because he had a clean suit and a fresh shave, but the creases around his eyes evidenced his concern for her.
“Deputy Puckett is right, as usual,” she said. “We might as well catch the train. I can cry on the way home.”
Nick wrapped a strand of her curly hair around his finger. “If you need to, that’ll be fine. I’ll be there handing you handkerchiefs the whole way.”
As they left the tidy parsonage Anne glanced one last time at the lace curtains hanging in the kitchen window. If the Hollands were watching them depart, they remained out of sight, but Anne preferred to imagine them on the floor playing blocks or reading a story together. That would be Sammy’s home, and it was better than anything she could give him, because he was with his family—a word she was only now learning the true value of.
The train rolled through the forest. No problem coming up with lumber for this section of track. The vast pine fields flashed past Nick’s window, leaving him breathless over the untapped resources available in the virgin land. Someone would make a fortune here, and he wouldn’t mind volunteering for the job if it weren’t for the duties he assumed were awaiting him in Blackstone
County.
Anne also stared out the window, but he’d bet his last dollar she wasn’t thinking of the trees.
He nudged her boot with his foot. “I liked them.” And he loved that she didn’t have to ask of whom he spoke.
“Reverend Holland seemed younger than I’d imagined, and Mrs. Holland was so careful not to offend. They’ll do right by him.” She tucked her chin and studied her hands folded in her lap. “I wonder if he’s destroyed their home like he did your office—” She gasped. “Nick, I’ve been so worried about Sammy I haven’t considered what awaits you. You must be frantic to hear about the election.”
He leaned back against the bench. “I’m not as concerned about the election as what comes afterwards, but being out here brought my priorities into line. I needed the respite. Bringing Judge Calloway and the Stanfords to justice is important, but I have to look past that. Whether or not they’re convicted, I’ll have to move on. Sour grapes won’t nourish me for the rest of my life.”
“Move on to what?”
“I’m not sure.” Nicholas stretched his legs. “Molly and Bailey don’t need me back home, but lumber is what I know. Maybe I could get hired on at a local operation, or maybe the Pucketts will be willing to take in another charity case.”
The smile she gave him was more out of pity than anything else. Well, he was pathetic. What would people think when they realized they’d elected an unemployed ne’er-do-well? And no matter what his financial situation, he had to be prepared to defend his reputation. Clearly the Stanfords wouldn’t kick back and wait for him to make the first accusation. Nick hoped once he and Joel got back and were able to get into the courthouse records, they could find evidence of their manipulation. Exposing the Stanfords wouldn’t help him financially, but he’d have the satisfaction of knowing that he wasn’t leaving unscrupulous men in power.
“I never thought I’d be headed back to Garber without Sammy.” Anne’s lashes lowered. “I swore to myself that I wouldn’t give him up.”
Caught in the Middle (Ladies of Caldwell County Book #3) Page 26
