Captive Heart (18 page)

Chapter 28

Setting the last batch of jam on the table to cool, Emma sank down into a chair, brushing the hair from her face. She touched the sagging bun at the nape of her neck and knew all of her must appear pretty much the same—tired and worn-out.
Who knew putting up preserves could be so much
work?

The past four days that was all they had done—she and Marcus, that is. Thayne had gone to round up his cows. Emma missed him and was cranky from being on her feet, laboring over a hot stove for hours on end. Still, looking at the rows of jars lined up in the cabinet and on the table, she felt a sense of satisfaction she’d never known before. Because of her labors, they had applesauce to enjoy and jam for their bread this winter.
Bread. Oh no.
She had yet to learn to make that, and when Marcus left to fetch Pearl next week, Emma had a sinking feeling that task would be hers as well.

Right about now, a nap sounded divine—and well deserved after all her hard work. She knew Marcus had gone out to the barn to do the afternoon chores, so there was no one around to see her being lazy.

No one except Joshua. With wide blue eyes, he looked up at her from his place on the floor. Emma was pleased to see he’d scooted himself several feet in order to get to the shimmering tortoiseshell combs she’d placed well out of his reach. He
was
progressing. Each day she spent an hour or more playing with him, moving his legs, helping him try to stand.

But she hadn’t had much time to practice the sounds with him, or more importantly, to test her theory about his hearing. Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Emma moved Joshua to the doorway where she could watch him while she got things ready.

Starting near the stairs, she rolled up the long entryway rug. Once it was out of the way, she swept the bare floor clean then lugged the hall tree into Thayne’s parlor. She couldn’t understand what had prompted him to purchase such a distasteful piece of furniture when simple hooks along the wall would have done just as well and suited the entry so much better.

Save for the small table, the entryway was bare now and large enough, she thought, for her experiments. Taking Joshua with her, she ran upstairs, retrieving several blankets and her pillow. Dragging all these back to the entry, she made a throne for him to sit on. She wanted a true test of his hearing and knew that if he felt vibrations on the floor they would interfere. Placing him on the pillow and blankets, she handed him the combs. Hurrying to the kitchen, she quickly gathered several pots, pans, and utensils.

Joshua did not look up at her as she came back into the room.
Not unusual,
Emma mused,
if he really can’t hear me.

Sitting on the floor, two feet behind him, she quietly spoke his name.

Nothing.

“Joshua,” she said louder.

Still no response. Emma clapped her hands. She wasn’t certain, but she thought his head might have moved a little. Leaning to the right, she picked up a kettle and spoon and tapped it lightly. Joshua turned her way.

She grinned.
Good boy.
Scooting farther back, she repeated the pattern. This time she had to hit the kettle a bit louder. Again, Joshua’s head turned around to follow the noise.

Over and over, Emma did the same thing, striking the pot, calling his name, tapping on the floor and doorknobs. She moved as far away as the parlor and kitchen, hastily scribbling notes on a piece of paper after each sound she made. Looking around the kitchen, she spied the grinder. Wondering if that was a range of sound Joshua would be able to hear, she quietly took it from the table and lay down on the floor with it. Hiding behind the half-closed door, she waited a few minutes more, in case Joshua had noticed her. It didn’t appear he had because he was busily engrossed in pushing the teeth of her combs together and pulling them apart repeatedly.

She cranked the handle on the grinder once. He didn’t look up.
Come on, Joshua.
Making sure there were beans inside, she turned the handle again. She thought she saw him flinch. She cranked it twice more. He looked over at her and smiled.

Emma felt her heart melt. He not only heard her, but he was responding with emotion. She crawled over to him and scooped him in her arms, kissing his cheeks. “Good boy, Joshua,” she praised him. “Good.” She motioned with her hands, then hugged him again. “I knew you could hear a little bit. I knew it.”

The front door opened and Thayne entered, taking in the unusual scene—rug and hall tree missing and in their place Emma and Joshua, pots, pans, spoons, and blankets.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

Seeing his disgruntled look, Emma laughed out loud. “We’re playing, Thayne. And the most marvelous thing happened. Joshua can
hear
. He can’t hear everything,” she cautioned immediately. “And his left ear is definitely better than his right, but he
isn’t
deaf. I’m going to be able to help him.” She beamed at Thayne, then turned to Joshua and kissed his cheek once more.

Thayne stood silently, staring at them, an unreadable expression on his face. “That’s good,” he said at last. Tipping his hat, he backed out to the porch, closing the door behind him.

Emma felt her joy deflate.
Have I done something wrong? Why isn’t Thayne as happy as I feel? Joshua is his son.

Confused and hurt, she placed Joshua back on his makeshift throne and set to cleaning up the mess she’d made. She returned the pots, pans, utensils, and grinder to the kitchen, placed her notebook and the blankets on the stairway to take upstairs later, put Joshua in his chair, and unrolled the rug.

But when it came time to put the hall tree back, she decided against it. So long as that atrocity remained in the parlor, the long entryway was the perfect place for Joshua to learn to walk. Deciding that having the beastly thing take up his space was the least Thayne deserved for his ornery, unappreciative behavior, Emma left it there and shut the door.

Feeling some of the exhilaration from her success with Joshua return, she went to the kitchen and decided she would bake a berry pie to celebrate.

Chapter 29

Hanging her apron on one of the new hooks Marcus had installed before he left, Emma stopped to pick up Joshua, then hurried out to the porch. The wagon—Marcus’s now—rolled up the drive, and Emmalyne waited anxiously for her first glimpse of Pearl
.
Marcus had done nothing but speak of his wife for several days before he left to get her, and Emma felt she knew the woman already.

Watching as the wagon drew closer, Emma saw that Pearl did indeed match the picture she’d painted in her mind. She guessed Pearl to be about fifteen years her senior, and from what Marcus had told her, Emma knew the woman had vast experience in everything from midwifery to working the fields.

Even from far away, Emma could tell Pearl’s weathered face held kindness. Rising up on her toes, Emma strained to see over Marcus to the lovely woman who, she hoped, would take over the stove for a few days at least.

Even Thayne had come from the barn for the occasion, though he stood several feet away, surveying the vegetables in the garden that were long overdue to be picked. Since their arrival, nearly a month past, he had all but avoided Emma. The closeness she had enjoyed on their trip was a fading memory, and she understood why he had tried to make it clear she was here only as Joshua’s teacher.

Emma knew she should be content—especially given all that Thayne was paying her. Last Saturday, they’d sat at the table together and he had listened while she described Joshua’s progress. When she’d finished, Thayne had told her she was doing a fine job, then he’d handed her a pouch containing more than she would have made teaching half a year in Sterling.

Ignoring her protest that it was too much, Thayne had left for the barn, not to be seen the rest of the day. Though he had not treated her unkindly, Emma felt her heart breaking a piece at a time. She told herself over and over again that it was better this way. Eventually, she would have to go home, and leaving Joshua would be difficult enough. If she could recover from caring too much for Thayne before the time came for her to leave, she might survive the separation that already filled her with dread.

Pasting a smile on her face, she walked down the steps to greet the stout woman Thayne was helping from the wagon.

Marcus, hat in his hand, stepped up proudly. “Pearl, this here’s Thayne Kendrich and Miss Emmalyne Madsen. Miss Emma, Thayne, I’d like you to meet my Pearl.”

Emma stepped forward, Joshua in one arm, her other hand extended to Pearl. “Welcome,” she said. The sight of another woman lifted her spirits considerably.

Pearl took Emma’s hand in hers and squeezed. She looked up at Thayne. “Mr. Kendrich, I don’t know where to begin with thanking you. I’d all but given up hope I’d ever be with my Marcus and Samuel again.”

Hands in the pockets of his overalls, Thayne shifted uncomfortably under her praise. “You’ve a couple of fine men, and it’s high time you were able to join them.”

“It never would have happened without your help,” Pearl continued. “Samuel would still be in Virginia, and I’d a likely died on that plantation I just left. Our family is indebted.”

Emma watched with curiosity as Thayne’s face turned a deep red. He didn’t say anything but moved over to the wagon, his attention on the horses.

Hoping to rescue him from his obvious discomfort, Emma asked, “Would you like to come inside, Pearl? Thayne and Marcus can see to your things.”

“Nothing to see to,” Pearl said in a matter-of-fact tone. “All I need is these clothes on my back. Left the rest for the others to use.”

“Of course,” Emma murmured, guilt stealing over her as she thought of the trunk full of clothing and fabric she had yet to use sitting upstairs.

Thayne and Marcus took the horses to the barn, leaving the two women alone. Emma led her guest into the kitchen. Seating Joshua in his chair, she went to the hutch to get two cups and plates for tea.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said when she’d served them both a piece of pie and sat down herself. “Marcus has probably told you I’m in desperate need of some assistance.”

“Only thing he’s told me is that you’re working miracles with Thayne’s boy.” Pearl looked over at Joshua, who was busily mashing a piece of bread. She took a bite of pie and nodded approvingly. “This is a fine crust.”

“Thank you,” Emma said. “I’m afraid baking pies is the limit of my culinary abilities, though.”

“Who taught you to make pie like this?”

“One of our cooks,” Emma said, embarrassed that she’d been raised with such extravagance when this woman had likely spent her entire life serving others. “It was a long time ago.”

Pearl nodded. “Well, whoever she was, she done a good job. Crust is one of the harder things to learn. Where did you say you’re from?”

“Boston.” Emma looked down at her plate.
Snooty Boston. We may have fought against the South, but that doesn’t mean we treated our servants a whole lot better than slaves were treated.

“Well, I been in South Carolina these past twelve years. And I’m telling you, it’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

“It is,” Emma agreed. “Did you enjoy the train ride?”

“More so than you did, I bet.” Pearl chuckled at her own joke. “Quite a tale Marcus told me about you and Mr. Kendrich.”

“Quite,” Emma agreed. She and Marcus had spent hours together, cooking berries, peeling apples, baking bread. Gradually, he’d pulled the entire story from her.

“And what is your plan now, Miss Emma?” Pearl looked at her pointedly.

“I—” Emma froze, the fork halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Pearl clucked and shook her head as if she were disappointed Emma wasn’t fessing up to some misdeed. “You got yourself a little boy and a fine man needs caring for. How you planning on doing that?”

Emma remained speechless.

“Well, sitting there with your mouth open isn’t the way, that’s for sure.” Pearl rose from the table. “I got my own boy to get home to. I can’t be staying here more’n a couple of days, so let’s get to work and you tell me what it is you want to know.”

* * *

“Oh, dear,” Emma exclaimed. She brought a hand to her mouth.

“What’d you do now?” Pearl demanded. Walking around the table, she frowned as she watched Emma try to push her arm through a sleeve she’d sewn shut. Pearl brought a hand to her forehead and let out an exasperated sigh. “Isn’t that your fourth time?”

Emma nodded solemnly, lips pressed together. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. When I pin it, everything is fine, but then I sew it up and—and somehow I
sew it up
.”

“Land sakes, girl. I hate to say this, but you’re hopeless.”

At this declaration, Emma burst out laughing, the defective sleeve flopping gaily at her side. Her laughter was contagious, and after a second, Pearl’s severe frown melted, and she joined in with an unfeminine snort and hearty chuckles that echoed around the kitchen.

“You’d best take some of that money Mr. Thayne paid you and find yourself a seamstress. ’Cause at the rate you’re learning, you’re all gonna be naked before you figure it out.”

Emma found this terribly funny and said so.

* * *

In the other room, Thayne looked up from the book he was reading to Joshua. “What are they doing in there?” He exchanged a worried glance with Marcus.

Marcus shrugged. “Don’t know, and that’s probably best.”

“I hope so.” Thayne scooted to the far side of the settee, catching a glimpse of Emma as she danced around the kitchen, bent over in hysterics. Her hair was down, tied back prettily in one of the ribbons he’d given her.

With difficulty, he resisted the urge to join her and see what was so amusing. He missed Emma. Though they lived on the same farm, he made a point of avoiding her as much as possible.
No sense in putting either of us through the torment.

Thayne watched as Emma, still laughing and wiping the corners of her eyes, ran up the stairs.

“No sense at all, right, Josh?” Thayne asked, shortening his son’s name as Emma had done. It was easier, she’d explained, for Joshua to learn to speak and discern single syllables. It was also easier for him to hear when he was spoken to in his left ear.

Proving both her points, Joshua tipped his head back, looking up at Thayne.

Such a simple response from his son brought a flood of emotion. That Josh made frequent eye contact and responded when talked to now filled Thayne with hope. Emma was truly working a miracle—many of them. It had been all he could do that day he’d watched them playing on the floor together to keep from breaking down right there. By proving that Joshua wasn’t deaf—as Thayne had feared—and working with what hearing he did have, she had given Thayne back his son. Possibilities for the future filled his mind. Josh would go to school and learn to read and write. He’d grow tall and strong, with every opportunity afforded other boys his age.

But right now, he just wanted a story.

Making an indecipherable gurgling noise, Josh rocked forward, pointing to the page in front of him.

“Bear,” Thayne said, looking down at the picture. “Grrrr.” He remembered the way Emma had teased him about looking like a grizzly fresh from hibernation. Though he was no longer covered with mud, Thayne doubted he looked much better these days. He was too busy to shave more than once a week, and his hair had grown even longer in the month they’d been home.

He stroked his stubbled chin, wondering about the possibility of getting Pearl to cut his hair before she and Marcus left tomorrow. Deciding he would ask her, Thayne finished reading the story to Joshua, then handed him to Emma for tucking in as she came back down the stairs.

When he was certain she had returned to her room and was out of earshot, Thayne went to the kitchen and made his request of Pearl.

“I’ll say you need a haircut,” she clucked, looking him over. “’Bout time you started caring what you look like.” She finished cutting a piece of fabric and stood, waving the scissors at him. “Got a lovely young woman living here, and you’re hanging out with the animals in the barn. Smelling like them and starting to look like ’em too.”

Such a tirade from anyone but Marcus’s wife might have made Thayne angry. Instead, he was amused. Over the course of their friendship, Marcus had spoken of Pearl so many times that Thayne felt he knew her long before her arrival. That she told things as she saw them and harbored strong opinions on just about everything and everyone came as no surprise. Still, Thayne felt the need to defend himself.

“Those cattle are our livelihood.”

“And it ain’t gonna be very lively until you start sharing your affections with something other than those animals,” she retorted. “Now go wash up. I’ll clear this mess off the table.” She waved him out the door.

Thayne walked to the well, drew up a bucket of water, and washed his face and hands. Leaning forward, he dumped the rest of the bucket over his head, then shook the excess water from his hair.

Above him, the night was clear and cold, lit by the moon and a spattering of stars. The smell of the woodstove filled the air. Trees were quickly shedding their leaves. Thayne guessed it wouldn’t be long before the first snow. He was grateful this was his last night sleeping in the barn.

Not yet ready to face past ghosts in the other bedroom upstairs, he’d given up the parlor and settee for Marcus and Pearl. And though the barn was warm enough for now, he didn’t sleep well out there. Being so far from Joshua and Emma worried him more than he cared to admit.

Just as he’d worried the Martin gang was following them those first days in Nebraska, Thayne felt apprehensive now. Though his sources in the Deadwood saloons had not seen or heard from Christina for some time, he couldn’t get past the feeling in his gut that told him to beware. She was out there somewhere, and it was likely only a matter of time before they’d meet up again.

Shaking his head once more, Thayne cast a last glance around the yard, then walked back to the house. Entering the kitchen again, he found Emma alone, shoving another piece of wood into the stove.

Hearing him, she turned around. “Hello, Thayne.” She wiped her palms on the front of her apron in a nervous gesture. “Pearl said you wanted a haircut.”

“I—do, but . . .” Thayne took a step back and looked toward the parlor. The door was shut tight, and an exaggerated snore came from the other side.
There lies the devil and his mistress,
he thought.
I’ll get you back later, Marcus.
Thayne turned to Emma, considering his options.

“I guess I am looking pretty bad—like a grizzly bear, if I remember correctly.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“And you have absolutely no resemblance to a pig.”

“Thank you.” She pulled a chair out. “Shall we start?”

He eyed the pile of fabric scraps at the end of the table. “Let’s hope you’re easier on hair than you are on cloth.”

She laughed. “I don’t think I can be worse. Pearl has suggested I use some of the money you’ve paid me to find someone to take care of our sewing needs.”

“Oh?” Thayne raised an eyebrow.

“She suggests I confine my limited talents to teaching Joshua and baking pies and hotcakes—and occasionally bread, if we’re very desperate.” Emma sighed. “I’m so sorry I can’t make better use of those beautiful fabrics you bought for me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Thayne walked toward her. “I shouldn’t have assumed you could sew.”

She looked at him anxiously. “Would you mind terribly if I send them along with Pearl tomorrow? She has only the one dress and could use—”

Thayne held up a hand, stopping Emma. “I won’t mind at all. If I could afford to give away a successful mine, I’m sure we can spare a few yards of fabric.”

“Did you really do that?” Emma stepped back so Thayne could sit in the chair.

He pulled it out a bit farther and sat. “I did. And don’t go thinking it was any great sacrifice. After my month with the Lakota, I just couldn’t rationalize working the mine any longer.”

“But you knew it still had gold in it?” she guessed.

“Lots of gold.” Thayne looked up at her. “And Marcus had lots of need. He’s helped near twenty people come to a better life with that money—all without increasing the mine’s size. And there’s still plenty in the existing tunnels.”