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Authors: Elaine Levine

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BOOK: Audrey and the Maverick
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She looked up at him. “Did you run?”

“No. I killed them. When the war ended, I made some business investments and earned some money. I bought their plantation and gave it to my grandmother. No one there will ever be hurt again. It is over.”

Dulcie hugged him. “I’m glad it’s over, Mr. McCaid. I don’t like bad men.” She kissed his cheek, then slipped off his lap.

Audrey was wrapping a couple of bandages about his chest to hold the one at his back in place. He watched her face. He was worried about her, worried about how she took his revelation. Her face was blank. She did not meet his eyes. She’d been through so much tonight. And now this news. She’d given her innocence to the grandson of a slave.

 

It was the early hours of the morning when Julian went to Audrey’s room. He carried a candle so that he could check on her, assure himself she was sleeping. He stood by her bedside and brushed a lock of hair from her face. Her eyes were swollen. She mumbled something and stirred restlessly in her sleep.

Julian’s soul troubled him. He’d wreaked so much havoc and destruction in her life. He’d separated her from her brother, seduced her, forced decisions upon her she wasn’t ready to make. Even now she might be carrying his child. God, he prayed it was so. It was his only hope.

She’d said nothing to him after he’d explained his scars. There was nothing to say. Except for Jace and Sager, and of course the boys, he’d never told another living soul the truth. He’d lied about his back since he’d incurred the injuries. Mostly blaming his father. An abusive father was the only truth white people could accept without shunning him.

He blew out his candle and set it on the bedside table, then sat in the wing chair, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Tomorrow she would look at him with revulsion. He should have told her who and what he was before he’d taken her choices away from her.

Chapter 32

In the light of day, Julian’s small ranch looked like a Chicago slaughterhouse. His men doctored the sheep they could save, butchered the ones they couldn’t, and burned what they couldn’t get to. In all, Julian lost 325 sheep, three sheep dogs, five men, and Malcolm. The toll was much higher for the sheriff’s men.

Hammers banged through the entire day after the massacre as the carpenters built six pine coffins from lumber meant for the schoolhouse. Audrey and Bertie washed Malcolm and dressed him in an outfit one of Julian’s men volunteered. Audrey had been withdrawn and unfocused, weeping often throughout the day. Julian didn’t know what to do to help her other than get the children out of her way. He took them to find a site for a cemetery.

They spent hours, walking around the ranch in ever-widening circles, looking at the land from different vantage points. When they climbed the bluff of a hill to the west of the house, Dulcie decided it was the perfect place. And so it was. Julian had his men dig six graves. They built six headstones out of planks of wood and seared them with the names of the fallen men and the date they died.

By the end of that day, the slaughtered sheep had been disposed of, the blood rinsed away or turned over into the dirt. The wagon full of the sheriff’s dead men had been taken to town. A tense truce of sorts had been put in place between Hell’s Gulch and Defiance. Julian’s men, now having experienced an attack of the magnitude he’d been expecting, knew better what was needed from them. Only two men had quit, following the fight. The others, Rebel and Yank alike, stood together to protect their livelihoods.

In the middle of the second day after the massacre, Maddie, Jim, and Sally came out for the funeral. They brought the makings of a feast, which Bertie heated up while the funeral service took place. Their visitors planned to stay the night and return to town tomorrow. To make room for them, the children had been temporarily relocated to the attic on pallets made from spare blankets.

All six men were put in the ground in the same long ceremony, Malcolm being the last. The assembled mourners stood on either side of the graves, forming a horseshoe, open at the end where Franklin stood presiding over the ceremony. Julian’s foreman, being the most religious of those on the ranch, volunteered to do a Bible reading and a sermon of sorts. Franklin focused his speech on the honor of dying a hero’s death, as the six they buried had done.

Audrey was crying now, softly. Julian longed to go to her, hold her, comfort her, but each time he’d tried in the last thirty-six hours, she had turned away from him. She hated him now, and he couldn’t blame her. When the ceremony was over, Maddie ushered the children down the hill. Audrey turned to Sally, finally letting her sorrow take hold of her. Both women sobbed in each other’s arms. Julian stood off to the side, unnoticed, unneeded.

Jim clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Let her be. Let her mourn.”

Julian drew a ragged breath. “I can’t walk away, Jim.”

“Sometimes you have to.” He turned Julian toward the house and walked next to him, in silence.

Julian’s men had been invited to the house to partake in the feast the women made. They filed by and murmured their condolences to him—Sally and Audrey hadn’t yet returned. Julian barely listened. He felt nothing but a gradual numbness that started at his gut and threatened to swallow him whole. Deciding he wasn’t fit for human company, he took himself off to the front porch. Willie settled at his feet. He rubbed the soft fur at the sheepdog’s ears, then sat back and waited for the day to end.

After a while, Maddie came out and brought him a plate and a cup of punch. He sipped the punch, then set it on the table and looked at his plate. He knew Maddie and Sally had worked hard to make the feast. He simply had no appetite. He felt like a human void, a dark hole where no conversation, no emotion could exist, only black, hopeless sorrow. Silence surrounded him, and he stayed within its hold.

“You’ll be leaving soon, won’t you?” Maddie asked as she sat next to him.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

He looked at her then. Her eyes were red and swollen. She’d known Malcolm since the Sheridans first came to town. She’d seen Audrey and her brother and the kids grow. He looked away.

“You didn’t kill Malcolm, Julian.”

“I brought Audrey out here. I might as well have killed him.”

“Julian, we aren’t God. We don’t get to know why things happen. I do believe Audrey is better for having known you.”

A muscle worked at the sides of Julian’s jaw. “Nope, you’re wrong there too.” He set his plate down next to his cup and walked off the porch, his hands shoved in his pockets.

 

A week later, Audrey and the children had settled back into a routine, though still a somewhat subdued one. Julian had resumed his stories to the kids at night, needing the time with them as much as they seemed to enjoy having him near them. He and Audrey rarely spoke. She had retreated to someplace inside herself.

He saw her pass by his den on her way upstairs with a cup of tea and hurried to the door to call her back. “Audrey, could I have a word with you?”

She stopped and looked at him. No emotion showed on her face. She nodded and followed him back inside his den. He shut the door, then moved away from her before his yearning to hold her displaced his better intentions. She’d made it clear how she felt about him. He had to be a man and accept it.

At his desk, he turned and faced her. He withdrew his pocket watch and checked the date. “A month ago, you said your menstrual cycle was regular. If it is, then in four days you will know whether you are expecting my child.” He looked at her. “In five days I will ask you to tell me if you are indeed pregnant.”

The teacup rattled in her hand. She set it down and folded her arms as she watched him warily.

“If you are not expecting, we will pack the children up and I will take all of you to Cheyenne or Denver or wherever it is that you would like to go. With the sewing machine.”

“And if I am with child?”

“Then we will marry.”

Audrey couldn’t believe her ears. He hadn’t come to her since the night they argued. It had to be unlikely she would conceive after one unintentional encounter. Her arms tightened over her stomach. She was torn between wishing she was pregnant so that she could stay with Julian forever and wishing she had the strength to face the alternative. His proposal, if that was what it could be called, was delivered without any emotion whatsoever. He did not want to marry her.

And who could blame him? He had the pick of debutants from the upper echelon of Washington society. She was merely a convenient backwoods woman he had bedded.

No matter what, she wouldn’t let him do it. He deserved better. He deserved the life he wanted. “Then we shall speak again in five days,” she finally answered him.

 

The house was silent and dark. Julian quietly made his way upstairs to his room. He took off his vest and threw it across the foot of his bed, then sank down on the edge of his mattress. His every movement felt heavy, as if he moved through water. He took his boots off, then went to the washbowl and pitcher to clean his hands and face and brush his teeth.

None of it made him feel any better. Without Audrey, nothing would ever make him feel better. He’d said he would take her anywhere she wanted to go. And he would. But he would stay there too, make sure she was safe and, if not happy, at least not suffering.

He stretched across his bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was the night of the third day. Tomorrow her menses should commence. He would have his answer in two days.

 

Audrey felt no cramps, no swelling, no discomfort in the days since her discussion with Julian. On the fifth day, her bleeding had still not begun. She was jittery at breakfast, feeling as if he watched her too closely. After he had gone out with Franklin and the kids had started their studies, she pulled Bertie aside.

“What is the matter with you, Audrey? You look as uptight as a cat tied in a sack.”

Audrey wrung her hands together. “My courses are late.”

Bertie patted her shoulder. “Well, now, don’t you fret. You’ve had a stressful month, with the attack and losing Malcolm and all. It’s natural that your body is acting funny.”

“You don’t think I—I’m pregnant?” Some of the women, besides Amy’s mother, had become pregnant at Sam’s. Surely Bertie would know what the symptoms were.

“I ain’t no doctor. I sure wouldn’t like to guess if you were or weren’t.”

“What are some of the symptoms? How would I know if I was?”

“Have you been vomiting?”

“No.”

“Dizzy?”

“No.”

“Extra hungry or peeing a lot?”

“No.”

“Then I bet you’re not pregnant. Just give it a few days and you’ll know.”

Audrey wanted to scream. She didn’t have a few days.

“Honey,” Bertie continued, “if you are, it won’t be the end of the world. Who will notice one more child?” She smiled. “You’re here among people who love you. We’ll get through this together.”

At supper that night, Audrey’s nerves sizzled until she felt dizzy. She no sooner sat at the table than she had to pee, even though she’d just been to the outhouse. She was starving, but she ate too fast and then felt ill. She sighed heavily. This was foolishness. She’d just talked herself into all the symptoms Bertie had mentioned this morning. She wasn’t pregnant. It was just stress. No one got pregnant after one time.

Did they?

“Are you still hungry, Audrey? Shall I carve more chicken?” Julian asked from the other end of the table, his eyes watchful.

“Yes. No!” She looked around the table. “Perhaps the kids would like some more?”

When the meal was over, the kids went out to do their chores. Audrey started to help Bertie with the supper dishes.

“Audrey, I’d like a word with you in the den, please,” Julian quietly requested as he stood by the hallway door.

“I’ll be along as soon as I finish in here.”

“You go on, Audrey.” Bertie shooed her away. “See what the man wants. I’ll do these.”

Audrey looked at Julian as he held the door for her. More than anything in the world, she wished she could step into his arms and bury her face in his chest, have him hold her as he’d done so many times in the past. She followed him down the hallway and into his den. He closed the door behind her. She did feel like vomiting now. She must have caught a stomach disorder.

He came to stand in front of her. Not a foot separated them, but it seemed unbearably far from him. She couldn’t read his expression. She felt disconnected from him. If she said she was pregnant, those words would bind him to her forever. She would rob him of the life he was entitled to. And if she said she was not, she would lose him forever. Neither choice was one she desired.

He broke the silence. “It’s been five days.”

“I’m not pregnant, Julian.” He shut his eyes and bit his lip. She dropped her gaze, unable to witness his relief.

“Then we will begin packing. You will take everything you think will be of help to you in the new home we find for you. I don’t want the children to do without.”

“Julian, it’s easier if you just put the kids and me on a wagon and send us on our way.”

“I will see you to your new situation, Audrey. We will find a building whose size is adequate for you and the children to live in a portion of it and have your shop in the public area. And I will be hiring a staff of seamstresses for you to employ. I will not have you hunting for a situation. And I will not leave you to deal with this alone.”

“No.” She shook her head. The fool man. She was setting him free. Couldn’t he see that?

“Yes. Denver is not the place to turn to picking pockets if your seamstress plan doesn’t pan out. And in Cheyenne, they’ll just shoot you and save the trial expense. I won’t leave you to that.”

“You’re making that up.” She glared at him.

“I’m not making up the fact that I intend to see you happy and settled. Now, do you want to tell the children, or shall I?”

This wasn’t good. If this move took too long, and she was indeed pregnant, then he would see the evidence and still force her to marry him. The sooner she gave in and accepted his help, the sooner he could be on his way back to his real life.

“I will tell them.”

She gathered the children together that night in the girls’ room. Julian was not in the house; for that she was thankful. She had no idea how the children would take the news.

“What’s the matter, Audrey?” Luc asked. “Why are we having a family meeting?”

Audrey looked at the faces of her children. They’d grown healthy and happy here. Their cheeks had color. Their eyes were bright. She was grateful for their stay. “We will be leaving Hell’s Gulch in a few days.”

“Why?” Kurt asked. “I thought this was going to be our home.”

“We have imposed on Mr. McCaid long enough. We need to leave him to his life now.”

“I thought he was going to be our father,” Mabel said, her eyes watering.

“I thought so too,” Tommy agreed.

“Where are we going?” Luc asked.

“We’re going to look at Cheyenne. If that town doesn’t need a seamstress, then we’ll go on down to Denver.”

“What’s Mr. McCaid going to do?” Luc continued.

“He is coming with us to see us settled, then he will go back home. He has important things to do, such as finding a wife and running his businesses. We’ve taken up too much of his time.”

Luc gave her a hard look, then spun on his heel and left the room. Joey and Dulcie exchanged a look. Mabel started crying. Amy climbed up on Colleen’s lap. Kurt, Tommy, and Joey silently filed out the door.

Audrey sat unmoving, wondering how that had gone.

 

That night, after Audrey went to bed and once Mr. McCaid quit pacing in his room, Luc and Kurt woke the other boys, and they returned to the girls’ room for a second meeting. They slipped inside quietly and shut the door. Luc woke Colleen and drew her over to the other bed, away from Amy. Amy sometimes cried when she woke up, and they couldn’t risk being caught out of bed.

Dulcie and Mabel sat up, confused at seeing the boys in their room. All seven children sat on their bed.

BOOK: Audrey and the Maverick
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