Tamera Alexander - [Timber Ridge Reflections 01] (33 page)

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to cook?”

She blinked. “Of course.” She quickly bent over the paper. The scratch of the quill filled the silence. A stained indentation marked the inside of her third finger on her right hand, where the quill fit perfectly.

He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d walked back in here to tell her the decision, but whatever he’d imagined, he hadn’t been prepared for the submissiveness he was seeing now. Neither was he fool enough to think it would last.

At the moment, Elizabeth Westbrook was beaten and bruised, as surely as Josiah was down at the clinic. Only her bruises didn’t show. But you could still see their effects, in the way her gaze wouldn’t hold his overlong, in the quick way she agreed with everything he said, and in the lack of fire in her eyes.

She raised her head. “What about Josiah?”

He wondered when she would pick up on that. “He might not be well enough to travel. We’ll make that decision tomorrow morning.”

“But I can’t—” She caught herself and gently closed her mouth.

Her restraint was admirable, and Daniel could see her filtering what she’d been about to say.

“Perhaps we could wait a few days until Josiah’s well enough to join us?”

“I’d prefer to do that, but we don’t have the time.” He gestured to the window. Snow had started falling as he and James had walked back. “We either make it across the pass and out of here tomorrow, or we’re stuck here for a while.” He grabbed his coat, indicating for her to do the same. Beau jumped up from his spot by the coal-burning stove.

The temperature outside had dropped in the last hour, and the wind made it seem colder than the twenty-seven degrees registering on the gauge hanging outside Mullins’s store. Daniel left Elizabeth at the counter with Lyda Mullins searching through a thick catalog for a camera, while he spoke with Ben about the supplies and freighter in the back room.

Mullins nodded. “Brennan told me whatever you wanted shipped within his territory was to be done at no charge. I’ll see to it for you, Ranslett. You just tell me what and where.”

“Thank you, sir. Miss Westbrook is making her selections right now. I’ll be back in a couple of hours with a wagon to get these supplies.”

After a stop by the telegraph office for her to wire Goldberg, they went to the boardinghouse and packed what she wanted to take with her. It took three tries, but they finally pared down the wants to the needs and fit them into one large duffle. He was encouraged when she tucked a journal entitled RECIPES inside. Years of bachelorhood had forced him to learn how to cook, but it would be good to share that responsibility. Especially since most everything else would be on his shoulders.

The snowfall was steady. Almost to the doctor’s clinic, they heard the shouts before they rounded the corner. He spotted James on the boardwalk, his hand poised on the gun at his hip. A dozen or so men pushed their way up the stairs while James and two of his deputies barred their way.

Daniel took hold of Elizabeth’s arm and pulled her back into an alley. “Change of plans.”

She opened her mouth, then promptly closed it. If he’d known she could be this compliant, he might have been tempted to agree to the trip from the very beginning.

“You’ll see Josiah, but not now.” He led her through a series of back alleys to his horse behind the sheriff ’s office. Fifteen minutes later, they were atop the ridge overlooking the town on their way to Rachel’s. He looked in the valley below to see if he could tell which building was the doctor’s clinic and found it easy to distinguish. It was the one with the crowd gathered out front.

For the tenth time in half that many minutes, Elizabeth pushed the curtain aside and stared out the front window into the darkness. A slivered moon’s pale light illuminated millions of feathery flakes as they drifted downward. Thankfully the wind had died some.

Rachel came alongside her. “James won’t let anything happen to him. You can count on that.”

Elizabeth wanted to be certain but couldn’t. There had been so many men and only James and two deputies—and Daniel, who had gone back to town with the wagon to get their supplies.
Their supplies
. . . She couldn’t believe they were leaving tomorrow. Daniel had seemed none too pleased when telling her his decision earlier that day, but—whatever caused him to change his mind—he had given her back her dream. And she was determined to do everything within her power to see it succeed. Now if she could only get word about Josiah.

Rachel’s sons were seated at the kitchen table with their dinner.

She assumed Mitchell’s and Kurt’s red hair reflected their father’s coloring since Rachel’s hair was dark brown. Although they did have their mother’s eyes.

She’d shown Rachel the newspaper article earlier, wanting to be honest with her too. She’d hoped she and Rachel Boyd would be good friends. And still did. If Rachel’s kind response to her confession had been any indication, that hope still held promise.

“Are you hungry yet, Elizabeth? The stew’s ready.”

“No thank you. Not quite yet.” The silence lengthened. Elizabeth glanced up, then away again. “I-I’m sorry about the loss of your husband, Rachel.”

A fleeting smile. “Thank you . . .” Her voice went hushed. “I miss him, very much.”

“Have you ever thought about returning to Tennessee?” The question was out before Elizabeth had thought it through. She reached out. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that your staying here was in any way—”

Rachel gently shushed her. “It’s a perfectly normal question. I did think about it, at first, but . . . with both sets of our parents gone, and with James and Dan—” Her jaw went rigid. “I decided to stay here and give our sons the life Thomas wanted them to have. That we both wanted them to have.”

A distant pounding brought them both to their feet.

Elizabeth raced to the door with Mitchell and Kurt on her heels, but Rachel put a hand against it before she could pull it open. Elizabeth turned, and her eyes went wide.

The graceful Southern belle cradled a rifle in her arms. “Just until we’re sure who it is.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help but be impressed. So much for the little derringer in her pocket. “Is that something you learned out here?”

“No, I just grew up surrounded by boys.” Rachel motioned for her sons to stand around the corner, then peered outside. They waited, and her face gradually brightened. “It’s Uncle James.” She threw open the door.

McPherson and one of his deputies reined in.

Elizabeth met them at the bottom of the stairs, careful of the ice and snow. “Where’s Josiah?”

McPherson dismounted. “Daniel’s got him. Dr. Brookston should be with them too.”

“Should be?” Elizabeth looked between him and the deputy who’d stayed with her earlier. “So you saw them leave?”

“No, ma’am.” Fatigue lined McPherson’s features. “And hopefully nobody else did either.” He motioned for them all to go inside.

They gathered around the fire. The sheriff and deputy wrapped their hands around cups of hot coffee and stood close to the hearth as Mitchell fed another log to the flames.

McPherson blew across the top of his mug before taking a sip. “Some of the men in town were upset this afternoon. They got the impression that Mr. Birch had done something he hadn’t.” His carefully chosen words were confusing at first, until Elizabeth saw Mitchell and Kurt sitting on the edge of their shared seat, in rapt attention. “So I talked with them and let them know that they were mistaken.”

“Did they believe you, Uncle James?”

Kurt nodded at his older brother’s question.

“Not at first. And they were mighty angry. But Willis here, along with Stanton, who’s still in town, helped me to convince them otherwise.”

“Did you have to shoot any of ’em?” Kurt’s eyes went to the pistol at his uncle’s hip.

Elizabeth could tell McPherson was tempted to smile.

“No. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.” But the discreet glance McPherson sent his sister said it almost had.

A dull thud sounded on the front porch. McPherson left, then returned moments later. “Would you come with me please, Miss Westbrook?”

Elizabeth grabbed her coat.

He led her to the barn, where Dr. Brookston stood waiting in the shadows. “Did it work, Sheriff?”

“I think so. Nobody followed us. We doubled back twice to be sure. Stanton will keep watch in town through the night.” McPherson peered into the darkness behind him. “How is he?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen a tougher man. He fared the trip well enough, but it’s cold. We need to get him inside.”

Elizabeth followed them to a stall where Daniel was kneeling over Josiah, with Beau close beside them. Josiah looked surprisingly warm to her, wrapped in a fur of some sort with only his face showing. The men carried him into the house and situated him on blankets and cushions spread out before the fireplace. The boys were nowhere to be seen.

McPherson introduced Brookston and Rachel. Rachel greeted the doctor warmly but didn’t so much as look at Daniel. Not even a cursory glance. Daniel’s manner didn’t reflect it, but Elizabeth sensed his unease.

Dr. Brookston opened his medical bag and peeled back the blanket of fur from Josiah’s upper body. He pressed the stethoscope against Josiah’s chest. “I administered a healthy dose of laudanum to Mr. Birch before we left, so he’ll probably sleep for a while.”

Elizabeth settled beside him on the floor. “How did you get out of town without being seen? Last I saw, a crowd was gathering out front of your clinic.”

“Turns out the building my clinic occupies wasn’t constructed with the finest workmanship.” Dr. Brookston looked at Daniel. “Ranslett here noticed some loose floorboards when he was there earlier and made quick work of them tonight. He lowered Josiah through the floor while the sheriff and his deputies kept the crowd occupied out front. Of course, now I need a carpenter.”

The men kidded Daniel about needing to fix what he’d broken. Daniel offered a timid smile but no further explanation. Watching him, Elizabeth felt an unexpected flush of pride.

“Mama, who is it?”

Mitchell and Kurt peered around the corner, and in unison, they yelled, running full out, “Uncle Daniel!”

Daniel dropped to one knee and grabbed them both in fierce hugs. The boys’ momentum nearly sent him falling backward, but he managed to keep his balance.

“We haven’t seen you in a long time!” “Do you still have your dog?” “Have you been huntin’ again?” “Where’s Beau?” “Did you bring us any claws this time?”

Daniel tousled a red mop of hair with each hand, smiling. The boys tried to duck and get away but weren’t fast enough. Beau joined in the fray as Daniel caught Mitchell and flipped him up over his right shoulder, then grabbed Kurt and carried him around like a sack of potatoes. Laughter filled the room.

Elizabeth sat speechless at seeing this side of Daniel. Grinning, she looked at Rachel, expecting to see joy—but discovered tears instead. Rachel met her gaze, then quickly bowed her head and left the room. Daniel’s own smile faded as he watched her go.

Elizabeth looked between the two of them, wondering at their history, and her first inclination was toward the romantic. Rachel Boyd was mesmerizing. What man wouldn’t be attracted to her . . . And they
had
grown up together.

At James’s insistence, Daniel took his bed, and Rachel insisted Elizabeth share with her. Josiah awoke briefly and ate some broth before slipping back into sleep, and the other men made pallets on the floor.

Elizabeth finished her tea in the kitchen and quietly crept into Rachel’s room, uncertain whether Rachel was already asleep or not. As she pulled the covers up around her, Rachel stirred, and Elizabeth heard a muffled cry.

“Rachel,” she whispered after a moment, staring into the darkness. “Are you all right?”

An unsteady breath. “No . . .”

Elizabeth tensed, not knowing what to do. She kept her voice hushed. “Do you want me to go get James?”

“No . . .” A hiccupped sob. “I want that man out of my house.”

Josiah . . .
She hadn’t considered the fact that just because McPherson was accepting of Negroes, Rachel might not be. “I’m sorry, but he was injured and there was—”

“No, not Mr. Birch.” She sniffed. “Daniel Ranslett.”

Daniel?
She thought of him lying in the bed just beyond the wall beside her. “I . . . I don’t understand. Why is it not all right for him to be here?”

Darkness stretched the seconds taut, and Rachel exhaled a shaky breath. “Because he killed my husband.”

30

E
lizabeth awakened to hushed voices beyond the bedroom door. Yawning, she sat up, blinking, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness while she gained her bearings. Her bandaged hand was sore but not as much as yesterday, and a slight throb pulsed in her temples. The voices grew more distinct.

“You know what you did! We
both
know what you did!”

“Rachel, you have no right to speak to him that—”

“Thomas is
dead,
James!” A sob cut short. “And he’s the reason for it!”

“Lower your voice. . . . The boys are going to hear you.”

Recognizing McPherson’s commanding tone, Elizabeth rose and padded to the closed door. The voices fell silent, but even with the door separating them, she felt the tension. The conversation wasn’t hard to follow remembering the last thing Rachel had said to her last night. The floor’s chill seeped through her socks, and Elizabeth glanced at the window. Still dark outside. Despite having had tea late last night, she craved another cup.

With painstaking care, she turned the knob and opened the door inch by inch, wincing in anticipation of a squeak.

“I’m sorry for what happened, Rachel. I know that doesn’t change a thing, but if I could go back and have a second chance to—”

“My husband wanted his sons to be proud of him. That’s all, Danny. Do you know that? That’s why he went out there that day.”

“Thomas asked me to take him bear hunting, Rachel. To show him what to do. So I did. I had no idea he would try and go out on his own like that. I told him I’d go with him, anytime. All he had to do was—”