Miles placed the straight razor back in its case, and returned it to the trunk he was searching.
“No kidding,” I said. “Why didn’t you guys rebel, and all have beards instead?”
Miles made a face.
“It was considered the mark of a gentleman not to have a beard, that’s why. My ancestors would have turned over in their graves at the very idea! Not to mention what my Mother would have said about it.”
It struck me as funny that it was such a big deal, and I couldn’t help laughing.
“Hey, if you grew up when I did, you’d be just as horrified at the thought as my Mother,” Miles said.
“So on a scale of one to ten, which would you say is worse. To set a skunk loose in the parlor, or grow a beard?”
Miles laughed, then had to give that some thought, which made me laugh. Why was growing a beard such a big deal? I wasn’t going to understand this.
“I’d say… it’s too close to call. But, it’s easier to shave with a straight razor, than to rid a parlor of the scent of skunk.”
I laughed again.
“The smell resurrected every time it rained, the humidity in the air I guess,” he said. “For years afterward, Delevan had a tendency to make himself scarce at the sight of thunderclouds.”
I laughed so hard my ribs hurt.
“Stop making me laugh, or I’m going to be sick!”
“One thing I can say for sure, I’d rather face a straight razor than my Mother, after setting a skunk loose in her parlor.”
“Hush!” I laughed, and threw a pillow at him.
He caught it and smiled, then took pity on me and kept to himself the rest of the things he could’ve said. Just looking at him almost set me off again. He smiled, then looked away.
I re-folded the linens and put them back in their drawer, while Miles sorted through yet another trunk.
I looked around as I thought of all the rooms and places where something could be hidden, and for just a moment, I felt overwhelmed.
Then firming my resolve, I pulled myself back together and remembered what I knew on a gut-level, to be true.
Miles wouldn’t be here if it was impossible to free him. Evidence does exist. I glanced at him as he loaded items back into the trunk he searched. If there was ever anyone who deserved to be proven innocent, it was him.
It might take me the rest of my life, but I’d find that proof. I won’t laugh nearly as much on the job, when I do… but at last he’ll be free.
~***~
Sarah quietly closed and bolted the door to the stateroom. She knew the reason Dan chose to travel as cabin passengers aboard the steamboat making its way up the Mississippi River to Montana Territory, had everything to do with access to the cabin saloon, and nothing to do with kindness towards her. It didn’t make her appreciate any less the chance to be alone, that having a stateroom afforded. The past few weeks had been unbearably hard.
She placed her hatbox on the floor, then sat on the solitary berth and leaned heavily against the wall. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and let her weary muscles sag. But no, until she did all she could to make right the terrible wrong that had been committed, she would not rest.
Opening her satchel, she retrieved both fountain pen, and paper. Using the small dresser as a writing surface, Sarah wrote feverishly. She filled the page with the truth of why Miles followed after Delevan that day, of what happened in the clearing, and the names of those responsible. She expressed her deepest regret and sorrow for the Bannerman family’s loss, and her own. She begged forgiveness for her lies, and pleaded for understanding, as her only thought was to protect them from further tragedy.
Sarah sealed the finished letter in an envelope, and addressed it. Then she sat still for a moment, and thought.
She couldn’t trust it to the steamboat. She couldn’t run the risk of Dan finding it, and the Bannermans must not receive the letter until Dan was far away from there. It wasn’t Dan’s safety for which she was concerned, it was theirs. The thought of little Cynthia and James at the mercy of her soulless brother, sickened her.
Sarah knelt on the floor beside her hatbox. Opening it, she swiftly emptied the contents onto the bed. Running her fingers probingly along the stiff fabric lining the bottom, she worked carefully to dislodge it. Finally the lining lifted, revealing a thin compartment underneath. Inside were two even thinner tin cases, which together, filled the space completely. Prying the cases out, she removed their contents. Placing the envelope inside one, she tightly closed the lids to both, and returned them to their place in the hatbox’s hidden compartment. Sarah deftly wedged the stiff lining back in place, then packed her belongings inside once more. She shut the lid with a snap of finality, and turned the key in the lock.
Sarah relaxed slightly, then turned to face the money which now lay on the dresser in front of her. She looked at the handbag, but thought better of it. Finally, with an exasperated sigh she picked up the bills, folded them tightly in a handkerchief, and fastened them inside the bodice of her dress.
Sarah took up her pen again, and began a second letter. It was brief, and she thought with satisfaction that if Dan read it, he would never understand. She addressed the envelope, then placed it in her handbag. This, she would mail from the steamboat.
Satisfied with her efforts for the time being, Sarah lay down and closed weary eyes, seeking a few moments of rest. All too soon it would be necessary to join the others for dinner, and it would be all she could do not to push her brother overboard.
The thought made her laugh for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
Chapter 7
The air was cool and moist, as Chip and I walked back to the cabin that evening. It was raining, somewhere nearby. Clouds moved across the darkening sky, passing over the half moon. The lights from the cabin glowed ahead, and we hurried the rest of the way home.
“Hi Mom,” I said, as we walked in the door.
“Hi, honey,” said Mom, as she stirred the broccoli cheese soup on the stove. The scent of homemade rolls permeated the room, making my mouth water.
Mom looked tired, though. Worried.
“How is everything?” I asked, worry clouding my own face. “Did—Doreen have a bad day today?”
“They’re all bad days,” Mom said, running a hand through her blond curls. She sounded really depressed. She sighed, then tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not in a more cheerful mood. Today was fine. I think everything we’ve all been through in the past couple of years, is just catching up with me.”
I gave Mom a hug. I wished I could do more, though. Fix everything, that’s what I wanted to do.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said.
Mom hugged me back for a minute, then returned to stirring the soup.
“Mom… take a break. Dinner looks done, so go eat. Then relax and do something fun, for a change. Talk to Dad on the phone, or read a book or something, then go to bed early. Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll clean up, and get the kids to bed.”
Mom blinked back tears.
“Just do it, Mom. You’re always so strong for us… and we need you, you can’t go have a nervous breakdown on us! But you might, if you don’t give yourself a break now and then.”
Mom looked at me, then nodded.
“Okay. Thank you.”
Mom gave me a hug, and I fixed a tray for her. I walked with Mom down the hall to her room. I handed her the tray, told her not to come out until morning, and shut the door behind her.
I looked in the room I shared with Doreen, but she wasn’t there. She must be on the couch.
That’s where I found her, pale and listless. Tryon sat on the floor coloring.
Maybe crayons wouldn’t be too difficult to scrape off the wood floor… Good thing Mom went to bed early.
“Okay funny boy, let’s get you a coloring book next time you want to color,” I said, as I put away crayons.
“But that’s for Uncle Mark,”
said Tryon.
“Well, tell you what. Color a picture in a book. A coloring book!” I quickly added, “And then give that to him.”
“Okay,” Tryon sighed.
“Dinner’s ready,” I said as I stood, the box of crayons safely in my hand.
Doreen stirred.
“What do you think, Doree, can you make it to the table, or would you like to eat right here?”
“Here,” Doreen whispered.
“Okay then, that’s what we’ll do.”
I got the kids fed, read them some books and got them to bed, cleaned up the kitchen, then scrubbed crayon off the floor. It could have been worse. Tryon could have tried decorating the walls or the carpet!
The next morning when I walked into the kitchen, I was relieved to see that Mom was feeling better.
She looked up from the pan of eggs she was stirring.
“Thank you for giving me a break last night. I’m feeling much better this morning.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, taking toast out of the toaster, and reloading it with more bread. “You know, when you need a break, tell me. I’m not always the most observant person in the world, so don’t wait on me to figure it out.”
“Thank you, Anika, I will do that.”
Good, because if Mom burns out, then the rest of us are going to crash and burn! I can handle things for a day, but I’d make a lousy replacement.
“I feel a lot more optimistic,” said Mom. “The chronic Lyme information you gave me the other day fits Doreen so well. This new doctor will have the answers we’ve been looking for, I’m just sure of it.”
“I think so too, Mom,” I said, as I buttered toast and she turned the bacon in the pan.
“How did you ever find out about it?” asked Mom.
“A friend looked it up for me,” I said.
“That’s nice, how on earth did your friend know about it?”
“He’s really smart, and knows a lot, and Doreen’s symptoms made him remember reading about it,” I said.
“Who is this friend?” Mom wanted to know.
Ack! I need to get my brain in gear, before I start talking in the morning. Of course she’s going to want to know who my friend is, especially since my friend is a guy!
“Um, well… is that a MOUSE?!” I screamed, jumping backwards.
I could answer that question. No. It was not.
“What, where?” Mom jumped too, she really does not like mice.
I reached around the stove and threw open the back door, then kicked violently in that direction. Fortunately, the kitchen is small. A mouse could have been next to the stove and could have run out without Mom seeing.
“Whew, close call!” I said with the utmost sincerity.
Mom breathed a sigh of relief.
“A mouse is the last thing we need in here! This is enough to make me want a cat. If your Dad wasn’t so allergic, I’d get one right now.”
“Yeah, that’s a shame, I always wanted a cat,” I said.
Oh please, let’s not talk about my friend anymore! Please, forget I have a friend that’s a guy!
“I know honey, I love cats too.”
“So what do you think about those hairless cats, Mom?”
“Oh, those are just the creepiest looking things!” Mom shuddered, and the conversation was all about bald cats from that point forward.
Crisis averted. But I have got to do a better job keeping my mouth shut from now on! How many mice can I see before Mom either insists on moving, or having my vision checked?
I have never eaten breakfast so fast in my life. I was anxious to get out the door! The more time that passed between Mom and that slip of the tongue I made, the more likely she’d be to forget about it.
I put my plate in the dishwasher and shot out the backdoor. It was sprinkling outside, but I wasn’t going back for an umbrella. Chip had to run to keep up with me, this time.
We burst through the door of the castle, completely out of breath. I’m not sure why I didn’t stop running somewhere along the way. It wasn’t like Mom was going to leave Doreen and Tryon, to chase me down.
Chip greeted Trixie, and they took off down a hall. Going where, who knows.
“Hi,” I gasped at Miles, seeing him in the entryway.
“Hi back,” he said, a look of concern in his eyes. “Is… something after you?”
I shook my head.
“Okay, well, that’s good,” he said. He looked puzzled. “You were trying to avoid the rain?”
I shook my head, my hands still on my knees, as I made up for the oxygen I lacked.
“You’re training for a marathon, then?”
I shook my head again.
“Alright, fine…” Miles thought. “You’ve qualified, and are preparing for the next Olympics.”
I gave him a thumbs up. Miles shook his head and laughed.
“Lead—the way,” I said, still breathing hard. “You pick.”
“Okay then, follow me,” Miles said, then paused. “If you can make it up the stairs, that is.”
I stood and walked past him, making a slapping motion at his arm on the way by.
“Ow!” Miles said, an injured look on his face as he held his arm.
I was shocked, and felt terrible!
“I’m so sorry! I am sooo sorry, Miles! I didn’t know you’d even feel that!”
“I didn’t,” Miles smiled.
I stared at him for a second, then gave him a narrow-eyed look and pointed at him.
“You… have no idea how lucky you are.”
I gave his semi-transparent shoulder a slap that would have really stung, if he could actually feel it.
“As a matter of fact, I think I do,” he smiled.
I rolled my eyes, but laughed too, as we continued up the stairs.
We were searching one of the second floor bedrooms today, in the main part of the house. A huge room, but then again, I’d seen very few that weren’t. Faint thunder sounded through the closed windows, and rain softly pelted the glass. It was a peaceful rain, not like the wild storm that blew Chip and I in through the cellar.
The room’s four-poster bed was absolutely huge, I did not know they made them that big all those years ago. I thought furniture was smaller then! It was mahogany, with the most beautiful grain. The two chests of drawers were the same design. There was a cute little vanity, a very fancy wardrobe with claw feet, and a sitting area arranged around a large fireplace.
The window hangings and bed covering were in shades of antique white and gold, and a luxurious rug covered the floor.
Miles and I dug through a cedar chest filled with quilts. Some he recognized, which reminded him of the people who made them. He told me stories about the Bannermans who lived there over the years, and answered my many questions.
Miles recognized a crazy quilt sewn by his little sister, Cynthia. It was made of all different sorts of fancy dark materials. I recognized some of the oddly shaped pieces as silk and velvet. It was heavily embroidered.
“That’s amazing, your sister made that,” I said, admiring her work. “It does live up to its name, though. It looks pretty crazy.”
“Yes, it does. It was used as a couch throw in the parlor, at one point in time.”
“That had to be so bizarre, seeing your sister grow up while you stayed the same,” I commented.
“It was. Although,” and Miles sort of laughed, “there were benefits to that.”
“Like what?” I wondered.
“Like when a guy came courting her, who didn’t have the most honorable intentions.”
“Oh my goodness, dare I ask how you knew this?”
“I heard him talking to another guy during an afternoon party, here at the castle. You might be surprised at how easy it is to overhear people, when you’re standing right next to them,” Miles said, and I laughed at that.
“Okay, so you heard something he never would have wanted her big brother to know, and what did her big brother do then?” I asked.
“I made sure he didn’t get anywhere near her. He hit several invisible walls, was forced down paths he wasn’t intending to take, ended up in the fountain at one point, made such a fool of himself—or rather, I did—that my sister wanted nothing to do with him. After all that, he was so freaked out, he ran and never came back,” Miles said, as I fell over laughing.
“Oh my goodness, that is too funny!” I said. “Every girl should have a protective big brother with semi-transparent guy superpowers!”
“It was pretty funny in retrospect,” said Miles. “At the time it took more self-control than I knew I had, not to fling him right off the mountain, and onto another continent.”
Trixie suddenly appeared. She shoved her nose under Miles’ elbow and lifted up hard to get his attention.
“What’s up?” he asked.
A look passed between them.
“Someone’s here,” he said abruptly.
“That’s interesting how you two can communicate with a look,” I said. I was impressed.
“It’s living together all this time, and someone isn’t just here, they’re right here,” he said in a rush.
Who on earth? Molly and her girls weren’t scheduled for today.
I scrambled to my feet and hurried to the open bedroom doorway, where I discovered Polly just a few short feet away, petting Chip.
OH MY. I do hope she didn’t hear that.
“Hi, Polly!” I said. “What brings you out in the rain?”
“Oh, Anika dear, there you are! Thanks to your dog, I found you. I wanted to see how you’re getting along, and I am seeing a big difference already. I’m very pleased.”
“Thanks,” I said. “It’s important to me, to prove your faith in me, is justified.”
“You’ve certainly done that,” she said, patting my arm as she looked through the doorway behind me.
“We—I’ve been searching for evidence to solve the mystery,” I said. “I was just going through this cedar chest.”
“Oh, my dear…” Polly walked slowly into the room. “This was my room, you know, ours I should say, when I married into the Bannerman family.”
“Oh, wow, I had no idea,” I said. “I guess there’s nothing here to find, then.”
Miles Page 11
