Home by Nightfall (18 page)

“Uncle Tanner!”

“Hello, Tanner.”

Susannah looked flushed despite her using an electric iron. Only part of the house was wired for electricity, and the kitchen outlet was close enough to the stove to cancel any advantage of switching from irons heated on the burners. Plus she’d had to sprinkle the cotton with water and that created steam that curled her hair even more tightly. But she smiled at him.

“Where is everyone else?” he asked.

She set the iron on a trivet. “Let’s see—Cole went home early, Shaw is taking a nap, and I think Riley took Kuitan out.”

He smiled. “Okay, then, who wants to come with me to cut a Christmas tree?”

“Me!”

“I do! I do!”

“Can we go, Aunt Susannah, can we?” Wade begged.

Susannah smiled and tucked an errant ringlet behind her ear. “Well, have you finished your studies?”

General moans and groans rose from the boys. Josh even slapped his own forehead.

“I think they can put that stuff up for a while. We only get to do this once a year, and it’s not even raining,” Tanner said.

She laughed. They all looked so disappointed, even Tanner, she couldn’t refuse. “All right, all right, I’m not going to be Ebenezer Scrooge. Off you all go.”

The boys jumped up from the table, ready to run. “What’s Beenzer Scrooch?” Josh asked Wade.

Susannah raised her voice. “But I want you home before dark and in time for supper.”

They tumbled out the door and ran to the stable.

Tanner looked at her with those smoky eyes. “Come with us.”

“Oh, but I’ve got work to do—”

“There will always be work to do, every single day. Sometimes people need a break from it.”

She thought for a moment. This would be a wonderful chance to spend time with Tanner again, and she hadn’t had an invitation from him to do anything since Riley reappeared. “You’re right. I’ll come.”

He glanced away and smiled, as if he hadn’t expected her to relent and was pleasantly surprised. “I’ll go hitch up the wagon.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she replied.

He went outside and she unplugged the iron, then found a scrap of paper and a pencil, telling whoever found it where they’d gone. At the last minute, she grabbed a clean flour-sack towel and
wrapped some cookies in it. Then she caught up her coat from the coat tree and went out to take a break from her work.

• • •

“What’s in your poke, there?” Tanner asked as they rolled along, searching for a likely-looking spot to cut a tree. He handled the lines with the ease of long experience. The boys rode in back, and the saw was wrapped in burlap sacking for safekeeping. He’d tucked his rifle under the footboard. The low underbrush had turned yellow and brown, hiding those animals with similar coloring. A definite tang of winter hung in the crisp air, but it was one of those beautiful rare days, dry with hazy sunshine.

“I brought sugar cookies, although I don’t imagine anybody wants one,” she said, waiting for the protests.

“I do so!”

“I want
two
!”

She passed them around. Since he had his hands full, Susannah poked one into Tanner’s mouth.

“Thangths,” he said, rolling his eyes. He managed to take a big enough bite so that the rest fit in his mouth.

After he’d swallowed it, he said, “I heard we’re having Christmas dinner at Cole’s house this year,” Tanner said.

“Yes, thank God. After Thanksgiving, I don’t want to have to fix another big sit-down dinner so soon. We aren’t like other families where there are lots of people to help or bring dishes from home to fill out the table. Jess tries, but cooking isn’t really her specialty.”

He gave her a sideways look. “Great, what are we having? Jam sandwiches on stale bread?”

Susannah actually laughed again. It felt good—so much of life had been grim lately. “No, she’s paying Granny Mae to cook the meal, and Cole is going to drive into town on Christmas morning to pick up her and the dinner. I think Jess ordered a ham with all the trimmings.”

Tanner groaned and seemed to sink into his coat. “Granny Mae is going to be there? I like her well enough but she’s like laxative—a little goes a really long ways.”

Susannah gave him a sympathetic look. “Take heart. She’ll keep Shaw busy. I hope. And think of Jessica—what a milestone this is. A couple of years ago, those women were ready to square off on Main Street with six-shooters.”

He chuckled. “At least we can leave if things get too ugly. If they were at the house, we’d be stuck. Or you would be. Men can always find an excuse to get away.”

She lifted a brow. “So I’ve noticed.” It was good to be in this relaxed conversation with him, one that didn’t reflect all the troubles they’d had in the last few months. She missed that, being able to talk to him as a friend.

A mile or so from the farm, they pulled up alongside a wooded area with a few young fir trees, six or seven feet tall. “This looks like a good place,” he said, setting the wagon brake. “You three get out there and start hunting. I’ll bring the saw.”

After they took off in the direction of the trees, Tanner wrapped the lines around the brake handle and reached into the wagon box for the saw. Suddenly, a shot rang out from the distance, flushing a pheasant from the stubble. The bird took off across the sky and was out of range, almost out of sight, but another shot sounded, and then another.

“Shit!” He reached into the front of the wagon and grabbed the rifle, then crouched beside one of the wheels. He looked
around and saw no one except Susannah and the kids running back.

“What’s that?” she asked, white-faced.

He waved them to his side. “Stay low. I’m not sure what’s going on. At first I thought someone was just hunting a pheasant. But the bird flew away and the shots went on, coming from the opposite direction.” They huddled together like a drake and a hen with their ducklings.

“You mean you didn’t fire the rifle?”

He shook his head.

“Shouldn’t you just yell at them to stop so they’ll realize we’re here?”

“I’m not sure they don’t already know.”

Susannah stared at him. “You mean
we’re
the target?”

“I don’t want to find out. It could be just someone hunting with bad aim or bad timing. We’ll just stay down here for a minute and see what happens.” He took off his hat, put it on the end of the rifle, and lifted the weapon above his head as far as he could reach. No more gunfire followed. They waited a bit longer.

“Okay, I think we’re safe, but I want to get out of here. Everyone into the wagon.”

“But we didn’t get a Christmas tree!” Wade complained.

“I rather have you keep your red head. Susannah, I want you in the back with the boys. Lie flat on the bottom.”

“And leave you up there alone?”

He gave her the same look he gave the kids when stating the obvious. “Someone has to drive.”

They loaded into the back and he climbed up to the seat. He turned them around and headed for home as fast as he could without turning over the wagon.

When the house came into view, he pulled up to the porch to let everyone out. “Okay, into the house. No dawdling.” The boys jumped down and Tanner handed Susannah out. He continued on to unhitch the horse. They hadn’t been gone very long, probably no more than thirty or forty minutes.

Inside, the note Susannah left was still on the table but it had been moved to the other end. She peeked into the parlor and the dining room, but neither Shaw nor Riley were there. She saw the fear in the boys’ eyes, and who could blame them? Things had changed so much around here—no one felt that kind of tension more than children, and she worried about them. She sent them off to the parlor to play checkers and put a pot of coffee on the stove to perk.

A few minutes later, Tanner walked in and threw his hat on the table.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Sure.” He raked his fingers through his hair. She put a cup in front of him and a pitcher of cream. “I want to know what happened out there. It was the damnedest thing I’ve experienced in a long time.”

Bringing the pot to the table, she filled his coffee cup. “Are you sure they were shooting at us?”

He looked up at her with a dead serious expression. “Susannah, I’m not sure of anything anymore except what
I
think and feel. Everything and everyone else is a mystery to me. Who’d want to shoot you or me or the kids? How the hell do I know? Did someone do it on purpose? Maybe—these days I’m always looking over my shoulder.”

She straightened and stared at him. “Good God, why?”

“I couldn’t say. I just have an uncomfortable feeling, a creepy hunch.” He sighed and sat back in the chair and tapped his spoon
on the rim of the cup. His wedding band, already scuffed by hard work, glinted under the light of the overhead lamp. “You have to admit that things around here aren’t the same as they were.”

She sat across from him. “No, I was just thinking that too.” She told him about the note she’d left.

“Where’s Shaw?”

“Not downstairs. I didn’t check his room, though.”

“And I didn’t think to look for Muley when I unhitched the wagon.”

At that moment, they heard footsteps on the porch and Riley walked in. He gave them a tentative smile. “Is this a private meeting or can anyone sit down?”

“We’re just having coffee, Riley. Would you like some?”

“Sure.” He pulled out a chair as Susannah stood up to get another cup.

“What have you been up to?” she asked.

“I just took Kuitan out to stretch his legs, since it wasn’t raining for a change.” His dark hair was windblown and he’d been out long enough for his face to have a ruddy glow.

“Do you know where Shaw is?” she asked.

“Isn’t he here? He was when I left.” He took a sip of his coffee with no cream or sugar.

She exchanged brief glances with Tanner. “We haven’t seen him for hours. I’d better make sure he’s all right.” She slipped down the hall to the stairs.

Tanner took a swallow of coffee and looked up at Riley. “Did you see anything interesting while you were out there?”

“I thought I saw a buck down by the creek.”

“Really? Did you have your gun with you?”

Riley blanched. “Gun—um, no.” He pushed his coffee cup back and forth between his hands. “Why?”

Tanner watched him. “No reason. I was just thinking you could have brought home some venison.”

He seemed to become more agitated at the suggestion, and now his hands began to tremble. “I couldn’t put an animal that size on Kuitan unless I walked back. Anyway, that would involve dressing it.” He shuddered. “I’m a good shot but after what I saw in France, I don’t have an interest in that kind of hunting anymore.”

“I suppose not,” Tanner replied. “Maybe just target shooting, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s all right.”

It was almost impossible to figure out what went on in Riley’s mind. His fidgeting could mean he was guilty as sin, or just jittery from shell shock. Most of the time he seemed to be in the present, but at other times—who knew? Even though he’d recovered a lot of his memory, he wasn’t the same man who’d left here to go off to war. Tanner didn’t have any expertise in disturbances of the mind, but he didn’t believe Riley would ever be the same. If he was lying about the gun, Tanner couldn’t tell one way or another. If Riley did take a shot at him, it would be a good method to get him out of the way—a hunting accident, so tragic, so convenient. And just like that, Susannah would become Mrs. Braddock again.

Susannah walked back into the kitchen. “Shaw must have left. He’s not upstairs.”

“Huh.” Tanner pushed out his chair. “Well, I’ve got some chores that still need doing before dark.”

Riley nodded and interlaced his fingers tightly to try to hide the tremors.

• • •

Late that night, Susannah was woken by the sound of screaming. She flew out of bed, confused and startled.

“I can’t save him! There’s nothing I can do! No, God no!”

She hurried to Riley’s bedroom, and in the light of the lamp she kept burning in the upstairs hall, she was able to see him thrashing around in his bed.

She grabbed his arm and shoulder. “Riley! Wake up! It’s a dream—it’s just a dream!”

She heard Shaw thumping around in his bedroom. “What the hell is going on?” he called from his doorway.

She stepped into the hall for a moment. “It’s nothing, just a bad dream. Just go back to bed and stay out of this.” The last thing she needed was more of Shaw’s “help.”

“Bah.” He shut his door again.

She sat on Riley’s bed. “Susannah?” he gasped, “is that you?”

Her heart wrenched in her chest. Sleep was supposed to be a restful escape. For him, it was just a visit to a horror-filled place of death and fear. “Yes, honey, I’m here. You’re safe—you’re home in Powell Springs in your own house.” In the low light, she saw him press his hands to his head. She got a match from the box on the nightstand and lit his bedside lamp. His nightshirt was sweat-soaked, and for a moment she swore she could see the anguish of every single war atrocity he’d witnessed reflected in his eyes. When would he break free of this awful prison? Would he ever? She got a clean nightshirt from the chest of drawers.

“Change into this, and I’ll get something to help you sleep.” She left him to go down the hall to the bathroom. On the way she grabbed her robe and put it on, not just because the night was cold. In the medicine cabinet, she found a bottle of Miles Nervine and a spoon she kept on the shelf. Returning to him, she found him in the fresh nightshirt, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“This will help,” she said, and he accepted the dose of nasty-tasting liquid like a child, with a shudder.

“Why does all this stuff have to taste so bad?” he complained in a plaintive voice.

“The bad taste makes it work better,” she teased gently. “Here, drink some water.” She handed him the glass that stood next to the matchbox and sat down beside him. “Is it always the same dream or different ones?”

He drank half the water before setting it down, and she put the spoon in it. “The same one but it changes. I don’t even remember exactly what it’s about except for the shelling and the most gruesome images of blood and gore. Sometimes they’re beyond reality—tanks the size of the
Lusitania
, endless streams of machine-driven enemy soldiers that are shot but another immediately takes his place. Other times, I just dream about what I lived through.”