Colorado Dawn (31 page)

Dr. O’Kelly’s eyebrows rose, and he motioned for Sam to step into a side room. “This is one of the exam rooms. No one will bother us in here tonight.” He took the chair from the corner and offered it to Sam, then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “What can I do for you?”

“It isn’t about me. It’s about the little girl who was with us today in your office.”

O’Kelly nodded. “Remarkable blue eyes.”

“She’s real pretty and well-mannered, too. It’s just such a shame about her lip. I was wondering if there wasn’t something that could be done about it.”

“She’d need a thorough examination to determine the extent of the deformity, but doctors have been operating on cleft lips for decades. Has she ever seen a surgeon about it?” He frowned and put his index finger along his upper lip. “No, I imagine she hasn’t, not if she lived in the same orphanage as the little boy upstairs. Their neglect is criminal. Someone should report them to the proper authorities.”

A spark of hope for Celeste burned in Sam’s chest. How different would her life be without that gaping hole where her lip should be? “Don’t you worry about that. I intend to see that the city of St. Louis knows what kind of treatment the orphans are receiving. Do you think you could take a look at Celeste in the morning? And how long would it take for the surgery and for her to recover?”

The doctor held up his hands. “Wait. I didn’t say I could do the surgery. You need a surgeon who specializes in children’s operations. I have a friend who would be just the man to treat Celeste. We went to medical school together. The trouble is he lives in Chicago now.”

“Chicago, huh? Know anybody in Denver?”

“I can make inquiries. Bring the little girl to this room tomorrow morning at eight, and I’ll take a look at her. Then I can write up some case notes to send with you.” He frowned. “I was under the impression you were merely helping to get these children from one place to another. From your questions, it almost sounds as if you’re considering taking on more than that.”

It did sound that way. Sam studied his hands and pursed his lips, then shrugged. “I’m not committing to anything. I just wondered if there was anything you could do for the kid.” He chuckled. “She hasn’t said a single word to me. Quiet as can be. Just looks over that scarf at me with those big, blue eyes.” He stood and started for the door.

The doctor followed him out into the hall toward the street entrance.

Sam held out his hand. “Thanks for everything you’re doing, Doc. I’ll see that the girl is here tomorrow morning for you to examine. Then, if you could give the case notes to Miss Carter, that would be fine. She’s the one in charge of the kids. I’m just sort of helping her along a little. They’re not really my concern.”

The front door flung open, crashing into Sam’s shoulder and sending him reeling backward into the wall. Dr. O’Kelly’s eyes widened and he stepped back.

Eldora stood in the doorway, water streaming down her face and dripping off her clothes. She gasped, her chest heaving.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

She hadn’t even taken the time to put on her shawl. Her dress clung to her, saturated with rain. “Sam, hurry. It’s Phin.” Her teeth chattered, whether from cold or from upset he couldn’t tell.

“Is he hurt?” Sam slipped out of his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, trying to ignore the pain screaming through his upper arm from the abrupt contact with the door.

She appeared not to notice when the heavy material closed around her, swallowing up her slight frame. Her icy hands gripped his, and she clung to him. “No, he’s not hurt.” She shook her head, sending droplets flying from the rats’ tails of wet hair around her face. “At least I don’t think so.” Her teeth chattered.

“Then what?”

“He’s been arrested.”

I
can’t turn my back on you for two minutes. What were you thinking?” Eldora threw her hands up and paced the narrow space before the cell.

Phin sat on the edge of the wooden bunk, staring at the floor. His stony silence pushed Eldora closer to the brink of tears.

Weak morning sunlight, cold and clear after last night’s rain, came through the window. She could see her breath and Phin’s in the frosty air. The smells of damp wood, mud, and unwashed humanity assaulted her nose. How had Phin endured a night in this unheated cell with only a single, thin blanket for cover?

“This entire trip is like a raveled sweater. Every time I pull on a string, more comes undone.” She blinked hard. “Tick in the hospital, Celeste’s tantrum about seeing Dr. O’Kelly this morning—I had no idea such a well-behaved child could throw such a spectacular fit—and now you in jail for stealing.” Hot tears pricked her eyes, but she quelled them. Tears were useless. Life just rolled right over her, in spite of tears.

Phin rose and crossed the narrow area between the bars and the far wall. “What did the sheriff say?”

“He said if I paid your fine he would release you.”

“You are going to pay it, right?”

“With what? Air? The fine is ten whole dollars. I have exactly two. Two dollars to get four people to Denver. You tell me where I’m supposed to get ten dollars to pay a fine you never should’ve incurred in the first place.”

“So what happens if you don’t pay the fine? How long do I have to stay in here?”

She searched his countenance for a single shred of repentance or fear or even chagrin but read only defiance and stubbornness, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a glint of pride.

“Sam’s talking to the police officer now to find that out. Phin, why? And don’t tell me it was for food. Sam said you ate enough for two grown men at supper, and the police found three dinner rolls stuffed in your pocket.”

“I wasn’t stealing food. Not that time.”

“A wallet? A purse? You do know that stealing is wrong.”

Phin stared at the wall behind her shoulder.

“Why, Phin? Why do you do it?”

“You’re so smart, why don’t you tell me?” He glared at her. “Always trying to boss me around, thinking you know what’s going on in my head. You tell me why you think I steal stuff.”

She’d had it with him. His stealing, his unreliability, his making her job harder at every turn. Leaving him here to learn a lesson appealed to her like it hadn’t before. “I’ll tell you why I think you steal. I think you’re trying to get even with people for what your uncle did to you. I think you take your anger out on those around you, blaming them because you’re an orphan.”

“Don’t talk about my uncle. He’s going to come for me someday. I’m not an orphan like everyone else. I have family. And I don’t plan to stay in Colorado. I only came along to get away from Korbin. If he thinks I’m in Denver, he won’t be looking for me when I get back to St. Louis. I’ll find somewhere in the city to hide and wait until my uncle comes back for me.” He stopped pacing and tossed his hair off his forehead. A defiant gleam lit his eyes. “Then we’ll be a family again.”

Eldora prayed for patience and then promptly let fly. “Phineas Bartholomew, when are you going to get it through your thick head that your uncle isn’t coming back? He dumped you in the orphanage to be rid of you the same way Celeste’s family and Tick’s family did. Too much time has passed for you to still cling to this stubborn hope that he’s somehow going to waltz in and rescue you. The sooner you get over this notion, the better, because I’m sick of hearing it. You’re an orphan like the rest of us, no better.”

Red suffused his cheeks, and his fingers balled into fists. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tremors shook his rigid frame. “You’re just jealous that I have family that’s still alive and yours is dead. Uncle Myatt promised me he’d come back. He gave me his word.”

“The word of a thief—someone who trains children to steal—isn’t exactly gospel, you know. He lied to you so you wouldn’t put up a fight when he left you, so you wouldn’t try to follow him wherever he was going.” She hated battering him this way, but someone had to make him see how things really were. His delusions were harming himself and those around him, and they had to stop. “Phin, I’m sorry, I really am. I wish your uncle had come back. I wish Tick’s and Celeste’s families had wanted them and loved them like they deserve. I wish I wasn’t standing in a freezing jail worrying about all of you and trying to think of a way out of this mess. Mostly I wish you’d stop stealing and help me instead of making my job harder.”

Inhaling sharply, his nostrils thinned, and he glared at her. “I was trying to help you.”

“By breaking into a store? How would that help me?”

“I did it for Tick. Sam told me what kind of medicine he needed. I broke into the drugstore to get some.”

Shock trickled through Eldora like little spiders. “But Phin, the doctor was going to provide us with enough medicine to get to Denver. You didn’t need to steal any.”

“Just like a girl. You never think ahead. So we have enough to reach Denver. Then what? Sam says Tick will need the medicine for the rest of his life. Where do you think that’s going to come from? The orphanage?” He spit out the word. “Nope, the minute we walk through those doors, Tick’s medical treatment will quit. We’ll be on our own again. Sam won’t be there to pay for things and make people take care of us.”

He wasn’t saying anything Eldora hadn’t feared, but hearing the words made the fear real. But what could she do? She could only cling to the truth she knew in her heart. “God will provide a way for us. He’ll light the way for us, and His way won’t involve breaking a commandment.”

Phin snorted. “I can’t see that God has bothered too much with us to this point. We’re as alone now as we’ve ever been.”

“You’re wrong. He’s with us. He brought Sam to us. Where would we have been without Sam? You got to ride in a private car, got served nice food off fine china, and Tick’s being looked after properly at last. You would’ve had a nice warm bed last night, too, if you hadn’t been so stupid.”

“You’re addle-brained if you think Sam is going to hang around after we get to Denver. For all the time you’ve spent telling me to quit holding onto a dream, you’re spinning a few yourself. I see the way you look at him, like he was the president or a prince or something.”

His words stung. She’d tried hard not to spin romantic notions about Sam, bracing herself for when he walked away, but he’d been so kind, it was hard. Shaking her head, she rallied. “I do nothing of the sort. Stop lashing out at me because you’re mad. I told you a few truths you needed to hear. You need to get a grip on your temper and your bitterness before both land you in real trouble. You’re in enough of a jam as it is. What Mr. Korbin will say, I don’t know.”

She rubbed her cold hands together. She had a fair idea. If Mr. Korbin were here right now, he’d say she was an incompetent fool and that Phin was getting exactly what he deserved.

“Who cares what that skunk would say? I’m better off in jail than anywhere near him. At least no one here has belted me.” He sank onto the bunk and lay down, putting one knee up and throwing his arm over his eyes. “I still think you’re an addle-headed girl.”

“At least I’m not in jail.”

Sam clenched and unclenched his hands, trying not to imagine them around that little scamp’s throat. How could he upset Ellie like this? At least in jail Phin couldn’t do anything else stupid to upset her.

Sam glanced at the door to the cells, wondering what she was saying to him. Probably coddling him, telling him everything would be all right, that she was sure he didn’t mean to steal. Eldora Carter had a tender heart, and Phin took advantage of it at every turn.

Well, no more. The image of her soaking wet, cold right through, and desperately clinging to him out of fear for Phin rose in Sam’s mind. The kid needed to learn that his misdeeds had consequences. She might coddle him, but that didn’t mean Sam would.

“Ten dollars or ten days.” The policeman crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “That’s the standard fine for petty theft around here. Since he’s a kid, and just passing through, we won’t bother with a trial, not for something so small. He didn’t even break a window to get in. Picked the lock as pretty as you please.”

Sam didn’t miss the admiration in the officer’s voice, though he didn’t share it. “I need to be on the train in three days if I’m going to make it home for Christmas. I could just pay the fine, but I’m not inclined to do that. What kind of lesson will he learn if I bail him out?”

The lawman pursed his lips and rubbed his mustache. “Christmas. That’s rough.” He leaned forward and shuffled the papers on his desk. “Tell you what. He can work it off. If he works today and tomorrow for the city, I’ll release him to get on the train Sunday morning. Can’t do better than that.”

They shook hands on the deal, and Sam followed the officer into the next room.

“Well?” Phin bounded up, grabbed the bars, and thrust his thin face forward. “When can I get out of here? Did you pay the fine?”

Sam studied Eldora. Her cheeks were flushed, but she didn’t look like she’d been crying. Her delicate throat worked and she exhaled, her breath showing in a puff of crystals. That thin shawl couldn’t be keeping her very warm, and he was conscious of the weight and warmth of his own heavy coat. His jaw set. “No.”