A Fella for Frances

by Donna K. Weaver

  Frances heaved out of breath. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  “Too late now.” He pinned her with a hard gaze. “Your uncle can’t get hold of you or the key.”

  “But we’ve searched the house. It doesn’t open anything—” Her eyes went wide, her cheeks now pink with excitement. “I know what it unlocks.”

  “They must be upstairs,” William Lancaster called below.

  “Up to the attic.” Nick gave her a push toward the stairs and then started wrapping the blanket around the bear as he ran into the bathroom. He shoved it into the swinging door of the laundry chute. When it made a satisfying series of thuds going down, he grinned. Pausing at the stairs, he listened for a second to the flurry of noise below. Nick was about to head up the stairs himself, when he felt a gust of cold air coming from the bedroom where he’d gotten the bear.

  He hurried into it to find Frances with a shawl wrapped around her and trying to climb out the window.

  “What are you doing?” Nick hissed, running toward her.

  “Shut the bedroom door. We can escape using the porch roof.”

  He could only hope one of the neighbors or servants were home. Resigned he turned back toward the door, only to find William Lancaster climbing up the stairs. Nick leaped at the door, but the large man had already lunged toward it and plowed into it with his shoulder. Nick stumbled back but stayed on his feet and put himself between her uncle and the window.

  “No, you don’t.” Lancaster raised a pistol and signaled for Nick to move aside, but he refused.

  It didn’t matter because Frances stepped up beside him, the chill from the open window behind making him shiver but the look in her uncle’s eyes turning his heart to ice.

  19

  “Give it to me,” her uncle said, his eyes cold.

  “What?” Frances’s tone was flat as she slid her freezing hand into Nick’s.

  “Don’t play stupid with me, girl. You went to the savings and loan and retrieved something. I want it.”

  She gave a hard laugh. “You assume there was anything to find.”

  “We both know Albert went to great lengths to keep this from me, but I have won at last.” Uncle William waved the pistol again, indicating the door. “I’ll have one of my men search you.”

  Frances gave one of those Judith sniffs with the same hauteur as her future sister-in-law. If they lived through this, Frances would have to thank her.

  Nick’s hand was moving in hers, but she didn’t dare look at him. Was he trying to tell her something?

  Uncle William’s two thugs were running up the stairs from the basement as the three of them came down from the second story and stopped in the middle of the main hall. Frances positioned herself and Nick so they faced the little alcove near her father’s office. How many nights had she dreamed of hiding there as the horrible man in front of her had stormed, unaware she was there?

  “Search her,” her uncle said, his expression ugly.

  “What are we looking for?” one of the men asked, stepping toward her.

  “Anything that doesn’t look like it belongs.”

  Nick shifted as though preparing for a fight, and she squeezed his hand.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Uncle William said, shifting the pistol at Nick.

  “But I would.”

  Frances lifted her knee and kicked the flunky closest to her as hard as she could right in his man parts. With a painful howl, he dropped to his knees. The other man was already upon her, grasping her arm. She immediately put Mr. Ito’s training to work, pinning the flunky’s hand. Since learning how to do the move, she’d gotten fast with it by practicing on the cowhands. The second flunky was on the floor, face down, his arm pinned painfully against his back. She grabbed his hair with her free hand and smashed his head into the hardwood floor.

  As she reached into her boot to pull out her knife, she checked to see how Nick was doing. He and Uncle William were doing an odd kind of dance around the hallway, with Nick shifting around like one of those boxers. What was he trying to do? Perspiration made Uncle William’s hair cling to his head, and his hand shook. They were going to have to finish this quickly because the man she’d kicked was starting to move.

  William turned the gun on Frances, and everything seemed to happen at once. She threw the knife at her uncle as she dropped to the floor. Nick was already in motion, leaping between them. Her uncle cried out as the knife struck true, but he’d already squeezed the trigger.

  As the weapon clattered to the floor, Nick flew back. Blood blossomed on his shirt, and it was as though Frances had been struck. Fear threatened to overwhelm her, and she knew the truth. He wasn’t just important in her life—he was her life. She was in love with him. There was no way she could go on without him.

  “No. No.” Frances scrambled across the floor to him

  The room was suddenly full of people and noise. She rolled Nick to his back. She could barely register Charles’ shouting orders to Uncle William. They’d won. But what did it matter if Nick died? With a sob, Frances put pressure on his shoulder, as she’d seen one of the cowhands do when one of the men had been cut in an accident and was bleeding badly.

  “Maude,” Doris called, suddenly there and kneeling beside Nick, “why don’t you take Judith and see if old Doc Turner is at home.”

  “He’s home. We talked to him,” Frances said, unable to take her eyes from Nick’s white face.

  With a rustle of skirts, the other two women were gone.

  “Luke, we need towels,” Doris said, tearing off the bottom part of her petticoat. She indicated Frances should lift her hands, so she did, and her sister put the fabric over the wound. As Frances moved her hand back into place, she was grateful her sister had helped the delivery of Mary Teague’s most recent baby.

  “Someone needs to call the police,” Charles said from the side where they were tying up the two flunkies.

  “Maude will do it when she retrieves the doctor.” Doris lowered her voice. “Are you all right, Frances?”

  She looked up at her sister, feeling like her world was crumbling. Frances wanted to reverse time and go back to when Nick had said he loved her. She’d take back what she’d said, wipe the pain from his face. What if he died?

  Watching his life spill out from him while she helplessly watched made all the feelings she’d been holding inside seem to gush out. Just like Nick’s life blood.

  “Oh, Doris, I love him and never told him.” France’s throat had gone tight, so the words came out raspy. “I’ve ruined everything. How can I live without him?”

  “He’s only been shot in the shoulder, dear. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “But he’s going back to Texas. We’re going to annul our marriage.”

  “Why ever would you do that? You’re mad about each other.” Doris sounded outraged now. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Same here,” Nick croaked.

  “Oh, Nick,” Frances leaned over to kiss his cold lips.

  “Did you mean it?” He put a trembling hand over hers. “Do you love me?”

  “Yes. I’ve been such an idiot. Please don’t leave.” She sniffed and wiped her face against her shoulder. “I couldn’t bear it.”

  “I won’t stay unless you’re my wife.”

  She gave him a shaky grin. “I guess we’ll have to tear up the contract then.”

  “I’d like that.” The corner of his mouth turned up, and she leaned over to kiss him again.

  “They’re back with the doctor,” Marshall said, running to open the front door as Luke came bounding down the stairs with an armful of towels.

  “No one said anything about two patients.” Old Doc Turner had served in the Civil War and knew how to handle triage. He gave Uncle William’s bleeding arm a quick glance before kneeling next to Nick.

  He lifted the fabric, declared it wasn’t life-threatening, and shooed the women away. As the doctor began giving instructions to the me
n, Frances started to argue with him.

  “We can help,” she said.

  “We don’t know anything about doctoring,” Doris said.

  “I’ve helped with a few gunshot wounds. I can assist the doctor.” Charles took Frances by the shoulders and made her meet his gaze. “Leave it to the trained professional.”

  “You’re covered in blood,” Judith added. “I’m sure Nick would much prefer to see you cleaned up when it’s all over.”

  It would give her something to think about besides Nick being operated on in the dining room. She looked down at his blood on her hands. I know I’ve been a fool, Lord. Please give me a chance to make it up to Nick. She heaved out a breath.

  “Fine.”

  “Let’s get her upstairs to the bathroom, so she can wash.” Doris took Frances’s arm. “She can tell us what happened there.”

  Frances told them about everything but the little scrap of paper now in her locket.

  “So you never found it?” Judith asked, holding out a towel.

  “Not during the search.” Frances dried her hands. “I remembered it just before Uncle William showed up. I didn’t even get a chance to tell Nick.” She closed her eyes and said another prayer for him. “I’ll have to retrieve the key though.”

  She went to Maude’s window, opened it, and put her hand in the deep snow to the side. Shivering, she turned around and held up the skeleton key, while Maude hurriedly closed the window again.

  “We’ll have to talk about this later.” Judith pointed at a policeman who was striding up the walk.

  “Maybe not.” Frances indicated Luke who’d hurried out to greet the man. For once she was glad to leave her brother to handle things. “Come with me.”

  The four women waited at the top of the stairs until they’d heard Luke and Marshall close the parlor door.

  “This way.” Frances led them down the stairs and to the alcove outside Father’s office. She picked up the marble bust and set it aside. “Help me pull out the base. It’s heavy.”

  “You always used to hide behind there when we were children,” Maude said, as the three of them “walked” the heavy wooden stand into the hallway.

  “So often I almost forgot I knew about this.”

  “You think the key will open this?” Judith pointed to the keyhole in the back.

  “I do.” Frances removed the skeleton key from her pocket. “Does one of you want to do the honors?”

  “You figured this all out,” Doris said. “You do it.”

  So Frances opened the drawer. Inside was a folded piece of expensive-looking paper.

  “That’s a bearer bond,” Judith said as Frances opened it. “Whoever holds it can turn it in to the issuer and get its value.”

  “Half a million dollars,” Doris breathed.

  “That’s good,” Maude said, her voice harsh, “since Uncle William did just what Edgar said he might and pilfered our inheritance. There’s only ten thousand dollars left in Father’s account.”

  “You should show this to Luke,” Judith said, and the three of them headed to the parlor.

  Frances was about to follow but something odd about the drawer caught her attention. She stepped back and compared its depth with its outside size. Going back, she bent over and examined the bottom. There must be a secret compartment. She couldn’t open it without Nick; he’d be furious. He’d love it. She glanced at the dining-room door. Would the doctor have given Nick ether, or would he be conscious? How badly would he be hurting?

  Before she could decide, Charles opened the door. Beyond him, she could just make out a very haggard-looking Nick sitting up on the table.

  “That’s a tough husband you have,” her brother-in-law said. “He’s just waking up and wants to see you.”

  “Can you do me a favor and get this drawer loose?” Frances pointed to it as she hurried toward the dining room. “Please bring it to us.”

  “Your husband’s one lucky man,” Doc Turner said as he wrapped up his instruments. “The bullet hit at an odd angle, so it ricocheted up and out. Lost a lot of blood, but I’ve got him all stitched up now.”

  “Thank you.”

  The older man looked up and met her gaze. “You two have given me an exciting day. That doesn’t happen very often to a man my age. I’m glad it ended well. Now I suppose I should check on your uncle. Charles was telling me about him. That’s some bad business, straight out of the Old Testament.” Doc Turner picked up his bag and strode from the room.

  Frances stepped up to Nick, wanting to throw her arms around him but not daring to. He extended his left hand, and she took it. She tried not to touch him too much, but he urged her closer. She buried her face into his neck and let herself cry a little.

  “I ain’t never been so scared in my life as when he pointed that gun at you,” he said into her hair.

  Frances straightened and wiped her face on her sleeve. “Don’t even talk to me about being scared. I was the one pressing on your chest to keep you from bleeding to death before my very eyes.”

  “It’s not a competition, my love.” Nick met her gaze. Hearing him call her “his love” had become one of her very favorite things. He asked, “Did you mean what you said about loving me?”

  “Every word of it.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him, sending up a prayer for God’s gift of Nick’s life.

  “I want to make sure I understand,” he said when she straightened. “Since you love me, we’ll be staying married, right?”

  “Well, since you won’t stay otherwise, and I’ve discovered I can’t live without you…” Frances heaved out a sigh worthy of a martyr. “I guess we’ll have to.” Her voice tightened, and she blinked rapidly. “I do love you, Nick.”

  “Doc just left and said we should get Nick to bed soon,” Charles said, striding into the room. “I finally got this thing out for you.”

  “Thanks.” Frances took the drawer. “Can you get the others to help carry him upstairs to the guest room?”

  “Will do.” Charles turned to leave but said over his shoulder, “The rest of us will want to know what else you find.”

  “You’ll see it later.” Frances carried the drawer to Nick.

  “Is that what your father hid?” he asked, his eyelids drooping.

  “Part of it.” Frances explained about the bearer bond her sisters had taken to Luke. “But see how much bigger the outside of the drawer looks compared to the space inside?”

  “A hidden drawer?” Nick perked up. “Show me.”

  “I wanted us to do this together.” Frances shifted the drawer so he could see what she thought was likely the lever. “You do it.”

  “But it’s yours.”

  “We’re in this together, my love.” Her eyes prickled as she said the words for the first time.

  “Say it again.”

  “What?” Frances refused to meet his gaze; she was done crying.

  “Say it again,” Nick repeated. “You led me on quite a chase, and I think I’ve earned the right to hear it.”

  “Fine.” She looked at him and said, her voice rough, “My love. But don’t expect me to call you that in front of other people.”

  Nick rewarded her with a kiss before lifting his good hand to give the lever a flick. It must have been on a spring, because the front of the drawer popped up about half an inch. Frances eased it up to expose another document. She removed it, read the writing, and met Nick’s gaze, confused.

  “Why would he hide a deed?” She held up the paper, so he could see it. “In Texas, no less.”

  “Does it say where in Texas? What county?”

  Frances checked the document. “Looks like Jefferson County.”

  “The Spindletop oil gusher happened in Jefferson County. Could be there’s oil on the land.” Nick’s shoulders drooped, and Frances set aside the map to help support him.

  “We’ll find out what it means later.” Fortunately, the men showed up then, and she left them to get her sisters to help make up the
bed.

  Sitting at the dining room table a few days later after dinner, Nick watched as Frances mixed his pain medication powder into fruit juice. The doctor had provided a fairly new one called aspirin. It wasn’t addictive but had a foul taste. Nick still liked it much better. It didn’t make him feel drunk or want to sleep all day. It also didn’t last as long, which meant he was less likely to overdo it. Frances liked that.

  His wife. Nick grinned. His wife he was going to get to keep. His wife, who’d turned out to be much more attentive than he’d ever dreamed. He’d taken to calling her his “Little Nag” in company. Instead of being cross about it, she’d embraced it.

  “Well, this is our final meal in Indianapolis,” Luke said, standing, his expression serious. “I’d like to make a toast.” He took a moment to meet the gaze of every person at the table. “To family as it should be.”

  “To family,” everyone said softly and took a sip.

  “I received a telegram today from Texas,” Luke said, sitting again. “Thank you, Nick, for your suggestion of an attorney there.”

  “Just tell us.” Frances poked her brother in the leg.

  “The survey your father set in motion more than a year ago confirms there’s oil on your land. The attorney suggested you hold on to it for a while. He agrees with Nick that automobiles aren’t going away, and they’ll need fuel. In a few years, the value of your property is likely to increase. A lot.”

  “Oh, good,” Doris cried, clapping her hands. “I can see that the school gets those desks.”

  Everyone started talking at once, except for Frances. She laced her fingers with Nick’s and leaned closer to him.

  “We’ll burn that agreement when we get home,” she whispered into his ear, her hair tickling his neck and sending shivers down his spine.

  “No, let’s just amend it.” He kissed her cheek. “Now that you’re a rich lady, you might get greedy and hire a rich lawyer to take my pittance.”

  “There you two go again,” Marshall complained. “Why do you have to do that at the dinner table? You’ll ruin my appetite for dessert.”