Deborah Camp (19 page)

“Calm down and eat. You’ve fixed a good meal. Let’s enjoy it.” Blade bit into a drumstick and smiled, hoping the compliment would soothe her temper.

“I think something should be done about people like the Keizers,” she went on. “And I think you should ask around and find out who destroyed your tools, and then do something about it.”

Blade put down his fork and met her gaze levelly. “What do you think I should do, scalp them? Burn them out? Declare war?”

James snickered behind his hand and Mary ducked her head to hide her smile.

“Don’t be flippant,” Elise scolded. “I should think you’d go to the sheriff or the marshal or whomever and report it.”

“Then what?” Blade asked patiently.

“And then the law officer will take care of it.”

“Uh-huh.” He gave her a look saved for fools and returned to his meal.

Elise examined the unruffled expressions around her and wanted to scream. “So that’s it. Someone breaks up all your tools, Mary is told to get out of the dry goods store and that’s it. I should think at least one of you would be the tiniest bit vexed.”

“I’ll handle it my own way,” Blade stated firmly. “Yelling and fighting aren’t always the best ways to make your point. I have learned to choose my fights carefully. This is not a hill I wish to die on.”

She eyed him pensively, sending a wariness through him. Now what?

“Did the white children in your school accept you when you and your mother moved back to Missouri?”

Her intuition unnerved him. How did she know where his most sensitive memories were hiding?

“No, not really.” He looked at her, deciding to give her the truth. “Children can be cruel.”

“Did you want to go back to the Apache?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t leave my mother.” He shrugged. “The schooling I was given has served me well.”

“Did it? I wonder.” She regarded him intensely. “Did the people around here accept your marriage to Julia?”

He swallowed with difficulty and glanced around the table. Mary and James pretended to be
deaf. Penny listened attentively. Why did Elise keep bringing up Julia? He fought the urge to ignore her by changing the subject, but he could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was bound and determined to wrench an answer from him.

“Yes, they accepted the marriage. Julia was respected in town. They wanted her to stay on as the teacher.”
There. Now eat
.

“And after she died, did they continue to accept you?”

He shrugged and caught James’s eye, but his cousin didn’t ride to the rescue. James knew he didn’t like to talk about his marriage, but maybe James thought he should talk about his first wife with his new wife.

“I didn’t notice. I haven’t been in town much since Julia died.”

“Can you buy things at the dry goods store?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“He’s married to another white woman,” Mary pointed out.

Blade frowned at Mary, and she ducked her head.

Elise looked from Mary back to Blade. “And, between wives, would they accept your money? Did they trade with you before your marriage to Julia?”

“Some did, some didn’t.” He glanced sharply at her from the corner of his eye. “I didn’t marry Julia for that.”

“Of course not,” Elise hastened to agree. “I’m only trying to understand how these people think. I’m surprised they didn’t turn their backs on Julia. I suppose she must have been a wonderful teacher or they would have done just that.”

“She loved the schoolchildren and they loved
her,” he said, wishing to end the talk of his first wife.

“What about you?” Penny piped up. “Did she love you?”

Blade’s gut clenched. Penny waited for an answer, an answer Blade didn’t want to voice. He felt Elise staring at him. Could she read the truth on his face? He chewed the inside of his cheek, then reached for the bowl of gravy.

“The gravy is good,” James said with a nervous grin. “And I don’t usually care for milk gravy much. I like meat gravy. But this is good.”

“Thank you.” Elise swung her attention back to Blade, waiting.

“Adam told me the other day that the judge won’t plant for another week,” Blade said.

“So we’ll have a head start,” James said, jumping on the new topic.

“Penny, you want some bread?” Mary offered the platter of corn bread, and Penny dropped a square of it onto her own plate.

Blade sensed the uneasiness around the table and was glad when Elise allowed the awkward moment to pass unchallenged. She ate her food but kept glancing at him, her expression inquisitive. The talk centered on the weather and planting times, safe topics far removed from Julia and marriage and love.

Someday he might discuss those things with Elise, he thought, but not in front of others. Besides, he couldn’t answer Penny’s question with a simple answer. Julia’s love had never been constant. Like a flame, it had flickered, flared briefly and then died … on their wedding night.

A
lighting from the wagon, Elise smiled up at Mary, who held the reins. “I won’t be a minute,” she promised, then hurried into the post office to send a reply to Donetta.

“ ’Morning, ma’am.” The postmaster peered at her over the top of his half-moon glasses. “Got a letter, I see.”

“Yes. Post it to Baltimore, Maryland, please.” Elise handed it to him. She’d written Donetta to thank her for her correspondence and to assure her that she, Adam and Penny were faring as well as could be expected.

She would have liked to see Donetta’s face when she read the part about Elise’s marriage to the man who had adopted Penny. Knowing Donetta, Elise didn’t doubt that the news would spread like wildfire through Baltimore society. Wonder what the Grandparents Wellby will think of that, she asked herself, then smiled, imagining their discomfort at being talked about in hushed, shocked tones.

She paid the postmaster and returned to the wagon where Mary waited. The street was busy, since it was Saturday. Wagons and buggies were parked two-deep and the hitching rails were full.
Children chased one another as their mothers and fathers shopped and caught up on the town gossip.

“It’s planting time and farmers are needing more supplies,” Mary noted. “And it’s a pretty day, so everyone wants to get away from the fields for a while.”

Elise nodded and gripped the wagon’s handholds. She was about to pull herself up to the seat when a familiar profile caught her attention. Adam!

Standing outside the feed store, he carried a big sack of grain on his back. A hulking black man toted three huge sacks across his massive shoulders. He and Adam heaved the grain into a wagon bed and started back to the store.

“Adam!” Elise called as she sidestepped horses and vehicles to cross the street to him. She waved, capturing his attention, and a smile broke across his face.

Nearing him, Elise noticed something different, something wrong … His smile was crooked, tight. Sunlight touched the right side of his face, and Elise gasped when she saw the bruises and abrasions there.

“What happened to you?” she demanded, resting one hand on his shoulders, while she gingerly explored his injuries with the other.

He winced and yanked back his head. “Oww!”

“Tell me how this happened. You poor thing, the whole side of your face is bruised! And these cuts and scratches are deep.
When
did it happen? I saw you yesterday morning at school and—”

“A little accident, dear lady.” Judge Mott walked toward her, using an ebony cane with a lion’s head handle carved from ivory. “There’s no need to fuss over the boy. He’s fit as a fiddle.”

“How did this happen?” Elise asked in a firm tone.

“A mule got spooked and dragged the boy and the plow across the field before anyone could stop the fool animal.” He patted Adam’s shoulder. “Scared him more than it hurt him, didn’t it, Rusty?”

“His name is Adam,” Elise stated.

“These accidents happen all the time on a farm,” Judge Mott continued as if Elise hadn’t spoken. “Builds character and makes a man more careful.”

“What spooked the mule?” Elise asked, already suspecting that the judge had created this “accident.” A cruel streak ran through the man. His black eyes and brows looked sinister against his pale skin, contrasting with his white hair. He certainly had an aspect of villainy about him.

“Maybe the animal saw a snake. It’s hard to say. You don’t have to worry yourself over this boy anymore. He’s my charge now.”

Elise placed her arm around Adam’s shoulders and gathered him close to her side. “Judge Mott, you must understand that I will always be concerned for Adam’s welfare. He is my brother, no matter who adopts him.”

The judge lowered his black eyebrows and his glance flickered over to Adam. “Tell her that a mule dragged you, boy, so she’ll go on about her business. What do you think spooked that old mule? A snake, you reckon?”

Adam’s throat flexed as if he were swallowing words. “Yes, an old snake in the grass,” he said, his lips so tight they barely moved.

The judge gave a wag of his head. “Go on, boy. Finish your job.”

Adam stared defiantly at him for a few moments
before he disengaged himself from Elise and went inside the store for another sack of grain.

“I hope you cleaned those scratches and medicated them.”

The judge chuckled. “I can see that muleheadedness runs in your family. Looks to me like you’d have all you could handle living with Lonewolf. The gals at the Rusty Keg say he’s quite … well, demanding.” His thin lips twitched. “Guess they’ll have to do without his business now that he’s got you.”

The man’s chicanery chafed her nerve endings. “Sir, where were you brought up?”

“Why, I was born and raised in St. Louis.” He struck a pose, the cane planted firmly, one hip cocked. His white suit and shirt were immaculate, his black shoes shiny, his string tie perfectly knotted, his black hat tilted at an arrogant angle. He was a big man in a Lilliputian town.

“Really? From your manners, I thought you might have been raised in a barn.” She tipped up her chin to give him a long glare down the bridge of her nose. “Good day, sir.”

She thought her comment would have brought a thundercloud to his face, but instead, he grinned broadly. Removing his hat, he bent at the waist with a sweeping flourish.

“Good day, dear lady! I look forward to our next meeting. I hope it isn’t so brief. I have a feeling I will enjoy crossing swords with you. But be forewarned. I’m an accomplished swordsman and will never be bested by something as insignificant as a woman.”

Giving him an arch look, she marched past him, straight into the store to waylay Adam.

“I’ll bring medication for those scratches Monday
morning at school. Until then, keep them clean.”

He nodded. “Elise, he—”

“Get on out here, Rusty,” the judge called. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Adam tensed and something akin to hatred flared in his blue eyes. “I’ve got to go. See you.”

Elise let him pass. She watched from inside the feed store as Adam slung the heavy sack into the wagon, then sprang into the bed himself. The wagon rolled away. Elise stepped outside and waved. Adam didn’t respond. He sat motionless, staring with eyes that could have belonged to an old man.

“Where is she?” Blade demanded of Mary. He stood in the living room, having come inside for a drink to find only Mary and Penny, but no Elise.

“Who?” Mary asked, too innocently.

“You know who.” He propped his hands at his waist and looked around the room in exasperation. “Where did she get to? The smokehouse? The cellar?”

“She went for a walk.”

“A walk.” He looked from Mary to Penny. “Penny, where did your sister go?”

Penny glanced fearfully at Mary.

“Answer me,” Blade said softly but firmly.

“To see Adam,” Penny said in a small voice. “Just to see Adam. That’s all. She’ll be back before supper.”

“To see Adam?” Blade ran his hands up and down his face as frustration whirled in him like a tornado. “Why didn’t someone stop her? Mary, you should have stopped her! She shouldn’t go there by herself.”

Mary laid down her knitting, which she’d been showing Penny how to do. “She is grown and I’m not her keeper.”

“But you know I don’t want her over there!”

“What’s all the shouting about?” James asked, coming inside the house.

“Your wife let Elise traipse over to the judge’s without telling me about it.”

“I told him I’m not her keeper,” Mary repeated for James. “She is a grown-up.”

“That’s right,” James agreed. “We are guests, not shepherds.”

“But you know I don’t want her over there—especially by herself.” He rounded on Mary, his fury taking over his good sense. “And you should have at least told me that she was going there!”

James stepped neatly between his wife and Blade. “You will not speak to Mary that way, cousin. You forget yourself. You are yelling at your own misery. My wife has nothing to do with this.”

“I … I’m sorry.” Blade saw Penny’s worried expression and forced a smile on his face. “Penny, did you collect the eggs this morning?”

“No. I was late for church and had to hurry.”

“Better go get them now. I saw some new baby chicks earlier. Guess they hatched this morning.”

“Goody!” She grabbed a pail and raced out the front door, braids flying.

Blade went to the water bucket and drank a dipperful of the cool liquid. When he turned around, he found Mary and James studying him carefully. “What’s wrong now?” he nearly barked.

“You need to get yourself a woman.” James folded his arms against his chest and exchanged a slow nod with Mary.

“I have a woman and she’s out there,” he said,
pointing a finger at the door. “Out there, sneaking around my back!” He heard his near bellow but was helpless to stop himself from overreacting. Aggravation boiled in his mind and he felt as restless as a penned-in stallion.

“You maybe should find release with your wife instead of yelling and stomping around here like a mad grizzly,” James suggested, a grin lurking in his eyes.

“I will find release as soon as she gets herself back home where she belongs, and I can tell her that I won’t have her sneaking—”