Elaine Coffman - [MacKinnon 04] (28 page)

Adrian had never felt so alone, so left out. He hurt and he
didn’t know what to do. With a helpless look, he turned to Molly. Seeing no
help from that quarter, he looked at John, who found nothing better to do than
to shrug and look back at Molly.

He was too hurt and too furious to think straight; the only
thing he thought to say seemed insignificant and rather stupid. “Who is that
woman?”

“I suspect she’s a nanny or governess or whatever they call
a nursemaid over there,” Big John replied.

“They can’t stay here,” Adrian said.

“You aren’t going to make them go right back, are you?”
Molly asked with disbelief. “They’ve been aboard ship for months, Adrian.
They’re just children. It would be inhuman to make them go right back.”

“What in the hell do you expect me to do with them?” he
asked.

“Well, I don’t rightly know, but I’m sure you’ll think of
something unpleasant, although it seems a mite late to toss them overboard,
seeing as how they’re already on dry land.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Adrian said. “It doesn’t become you.”

“Maybe not, but it sure becomes you, don’t it?” Molly said,
turning away to follow Maggie.

Adrian watched his wife greet her children with hugs and
tears, but in spite of her apparent joy upon seeing them, something was
missing. Her expression was sober as she spoke to the woman, and when Molly
arrived, the two of them talked solemnly.

A moment later, Adrian watched Molly approach him.

“What’s wrong? Have you invited them to stay?” asked Adrian.

“No, but I think you should. The child in the woman’s arms
is sick. She’s burning up with fever. She would never survive a return trip—not
even in good weather, and we know that isn’t going to be the case this time of
year.”

Adrian felt trapped. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t speak.

“Well,” Big John drawled after a long passage of time, “you
can’t exactly keep them standing on the dock until doomsday. Want me to drown
them?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Does that mean you want me to drive them on up to the
house?” Big John asked.

“Oh, no,” Adrian said through gritted teeth. “I reserve that
privilege all for myself.”

Maggie sat in the wagon holding Ainsley, while Fletcher and
Barrie sat beside her. Molly sat in the front seat, between Maude, the
governess, and Adrian.

Pale and dizzy from the sudden loss of blood from head,
Maggie held Ainsley’s burning body close.
Early
, mind screamed.
They’ve
come at least a month early.
She glanced at Adrian, seeing the frozen anger
on his face. God, she had only wanted a little time to set things between them.
She never intended for him to find out way. But she knew, deep in her heart,
this was all her fault—her fault for not sparing Adrian from discovering, in
the worst possible way, the news she knew he would find so dreadful.

“It’s all right, my little spunkie. Mama is here now. Dinna
worrit,” Maggie crooned, cuddling Ainsley’s feverish body close.

When they reached the house, Adrian took Ainsley from
Maggie’s arms and handed her to Molly, then held out his hand to help Maggie
down. Clearly furious, he squeezed her hand so tight, she thought he would
crush the bones. His face contorted in grim silence, he did not touch her any
more than he had to.

“Adrian…”

“Leave it,” he said.

“I canna. I ken how you must feel.”

“No, you couldn’t. You can’t possibly know.”

“I’m sorry. I was going to tell you. I just wanted a little
more time.”

“We’ve been over all of this before.”

“Was I so wrong for wanting you to care for me? For you to
care enough to try to understand?”

“Everything about this has been wrong right from the start.
I don’t understand you or anything about you. I don’t even want to anymore.”

“Adrian, please try.”

“I have no intention of trying. Ever.”

“What do you want me to do? Leave? Is that what you want? Do
you want me to take the children and return to Scotland?”

His face a frozen mask, his voice one she had never heard,
he said hatefully, “Madam, I think that is an excellent idea. It can’t happen
soon enough for me.”

Once she was on the ground, he took Ainsley from Molly,
handing her to Maggie, without saying a word. Before Maggie knew what he was
about, he had turned on his heels, instructing the two men unloading trunks
from the wagon to take them into the house.

Untying his horse from the back of the wagon, Adrian mounted,
jerking the animal around in a wild spin, before taking off down the road at a
dead run.

“Was that him? Was that yer husband?” Maude asked.

“Aye, that was Adrian.”

“Friendly sort. Must be part Scot.”

“He’s all Scot, and he acts it.” Maggie’s eyes went to
Ainsley, her hand coming out to touch the scorching brow.

“‘Tis shipboard fever. That’s what the captain called it.
Came on her all of a sudden, it did. She complained of a headache, saying her
back and legs hurt. The next thing I ken, she’s burning with fever. The puir
little lassie has been awfully sick and calling for you.”

“Come, love, Mother is here now,” Maggie crooned, turning
toward the house. Ainsley’s tiny body was so hot. Maggie felt tears splash down
her cheeks.

Turning through the door, she called to Molly.

“We need cold water and plenty of clean cloths. I need to
bathe her and get this fever down.”

“It willna come down,” Maude said. “I’ve been bathing the
puir little lassie for two days now. Her fever keeps getting higher.”

“I’ll get the water,” Molly said. “If it won’t lower her
fever, maybe it will keep it from getting any higher. And we need to make sure
she eats. She’s going to need strength to fight this.” Molly looked at Ainsley.
“I pray to God that captain was right.”

Maggie looked at Molly. “What do you mean?”

“I hope it’s ship fever. Right now, judging from the way
this thing hit her, it could be ship fever…or it could be typhoid,” Molly said,
heading for the kitchen.

“Oh, my God,” Maggie said. Turning quickly to Maude, she
said, “Take Fletch and Barrie with you for now. I dinna want anyone around
Ainsley. Ship fever or typhoid, they’re both likely to spread if we are no
careful.” She took Maude’s hand. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find your way
around on your own for now, Maude. Try to explain to Fletch and Barrie for me.
I have to stay with Ainsley.”

Maude looked out the window, seeing Fletcher and Barrie
chasing a large yellow dog. “From what I can see, there isna anything to worry
about. They have enough to keep them busy. There’s a whole new country to
explore. I ken they’ll be fine—a lot better than you. Dinna you worry about
them.”

Maggie carried Ainsley to the room she had always pictured
her in, a cheerful, bright corner room on the third floor. She placed Ainsley
on the bed and removed her clothes. When Molly came in with the basin of cold
water, Maggie began bathing her, first cleaning her thoroughly with soap, then
applying cool, wet cloths. She handed Ainsley’s clothes to Molly. “Burn these,”
she said.

Exhausted, and afraid to leave her daughter’s side, Maggie
remained on her knees beside the bed, listening to Ainsley’s rapid breathing.
More for her own comfort than Ainsley’s, Maggie held her tiny hand in hers and
began praying.

It was dark when Adrian returned home. He found a cold
supper and Molly in the kitchen. The nursemaid and the two older children were
nowhere in sight. As if reading his thoughts, Molly said, “Maude put them to
bed right after they ate their supper.”

“And Maggie?”

“We put the little one in the big corner room on the third
floor. Maggie is still up there with her.”

Adrian nodded and left the room, lighting a lamp to take
upstairs. He climbed the stairs to the third floor. Opening the door to the
corner room, he held the lamp aloft and saw Maggie sound asleep and sitting on
the floor, her head next to the little girl. He went to stand beside her,
placing the lamp on the table. He stood over the two of them. Their heads were
close, their hair so much the same color, it was difficult to see where Maggie’s
ended and the child’s began. This little one of Maggie’s was the spitting image
of her mother. Without further thought, he went to Maggie and lifted her in his
arms, placing her on the bed next to her daughter. Maggie stirred, but she did
not wake up.

For some time he stood there, looking down at the two of
them. He put his hand on the child’s head. She was burning with fever. He
removed the heated cloth and dipped it in the basin, wringing it out, and
replacing it. Any fool could see the child was deathly ill. He was relieved
that his initial anger hadn’t removed all ability to think, as his anger
sometimes did. At least he had sent to San Francisco for a doctor.

Looking at Maggie, he felt some of his anger drain away. He
had come up here to tell her he wanted to talk to her, but seeing the
exhaustion on her face, he decided it could wait. The damage was done. There
would be time to talk tomorrow. He looked at the child. Tomorrow, or the day
after.

He continued to look at her for a while. Maggie. His wife.
His wife who had also been another man’s wife. Maggie the wife. Maggie the
mother. Maggie the deceitful one, the betrayer. His heart shattered.

How many other Maggies were there?

Adrian left them sleeping and went from the room. As he
walked back down the stairs, he wondered what other secrets she had kept hidden
from him. He rubbed his eyes, but the fatigue was still there. It had been a
long time since he felt as if his life was out of his own control, a long time
since he was so uncertain about what to do. He was a man of action, and one of
his strongest attributes was the ability to see problems before they arose, and
to act quickly. But ever since this strawberry-haired Scot had come into his
life, he lived in a constant state of confusion.

Part of him wanted to bundle Maggie and her children up and
send them packing. Part of him wanted to return the children and keep Maggie.
Another part had the gall to suggest he keep them all. He wanted. He didn’t
want. He didn’t understand how he could feel both.

But he felt the agony.

If it hadn’t been for the high winds, the ship that brought
Dr. Hiram Farnsworth would have never made it to San Francisco and back so
fast.

Adrian brought the doctor up to the house, but he told Molly
to show him upstairs. She made no effort to hide her disapproval. “Aren’t you
coming up?” Molly asked him, her eyes narrowed and pinning him to the wall, as
if daring him to refuse.

“No,” he said, “I’m not. I’ve been away from work long
enough as it is. I’ve got a business to run, and I don’t know a damn thing
about medicine.” He glanced at the doctor, and then back at her. “You’ve got
all the help you need. I’d only be in the way. I’ve got to get back to the
mill.”

Molly grunted and led the doctor upstairs.

Adrian watched her go. Damn fool woman, snorting and
grunting at him at every turn. It had gotten to the point that he wondered if
Molly even knew how to communicate with words.

“Hell and double hell,” he said, stuffing his hands into his
pockets. He
did
have work to do. He
was
needed down at the mill.
He
wasn’t
… He paused in mid-thought, when something strange suddenly
occurred to him. And the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why it
was that he was always feeling guilty, or feeling he had to justify everything
around Molly and Maggie. He wasn’t the one who was deceitful here. He sure as
hell hadn’t betrayed Maggie.
There are too many woman in this house
, he
told himself. He thought about Maggie’s two little girls.
Now they’re
bringing in reinforcements.

There were enough people up there fussing over Maggie’s
daughter without him planting himself in the middle of things.
Aren’t you
coming up?
Molly’s words scampered across his mind like stones skipped
across water.

He was on his way out the door when he remembered he left
the accounts ledger in his study. He went back for it, and was almost to the
door when he remembered that he had left his pocketknife on the bureau. He went
upstairs for that.

Then he remembered he hadn’t had any breakfast and more than
likely wouldn’t have any lunch either, so he stopped off by the kitchen, poking
a couple of pieces of elk sausage in the middle of two biscuits when he noticed
the coffee was still hot. He poured himself a cup and sat down at the table to
eat his biscuits.

When he finished eating, he headed for the front door. He
paused in the great foyer, looking up the great, winding staircase. The doctor
was still upstairs.
So, what concern is it of mine?

None,
he told himself, opening the front door. He
stepped out onto the porch, casting an eye skyward. It looked like rain. Maybe
he needed his other boots. He went back inside, returning to his room a second
time.

He changed his boots, and went back downstairs. He almost
made it to the front door. He stopped, thinking maybe he should go back
upstairs for his slicker. Before he made up his mind, Molly came back down, her
solemn eyes narrowed, accusing, as she regarded him steadily. “What are you
staring at?” he asked, at the same moment she said, “You still here?”

“Do you think you’re talking to a ghost?” he asked.

“No, I know you’re no ghost; I’m just trying to decide if
there are two of you. Seems to me one of you wants to stay, the other wants to
go.”

“All of me wants to go.”

“Then what’s keeping you? I thought you were needed down at
the mill,” she said. “Are you sure you didn’t change your mind?”

“I’m sure.” Adrian regarded her for a moment, standing there
like a blown horse, her sides heaving, her nostrils flared. “I was detained,”
he said. “It’s as simple as that.”

Molly looked like she didn’t believe a word he said, but she
didn’t mention it. “Will you be going up now?”

Adrian hesitated. “The doctor is there; what good would I
be?”

“She might find it nice to have a little companionship about
now.”

“If she wants companionship, she can call Israel,” he said.

“Now, that was a clever statement,” she said. “When you get
through being thoughtless, you might try thinking about how hard it is on a
woman going through these things alone. I know how she feels. I would have
never made it through the deaths of my two boys if I hadn’t had that big old
lout I’m married to. Big John Polly never left my side.”

“Big John never deceived you the way Maggie did.”

“Well, if he had, I don’t think I would be too pigheaded to
understand why.”

“Leave it be, Molly. Things were different between you and
Big John than they are between Maggie and myself,” he said.

“I don’t reckon they were so different,” she said. “I think
we just looked at it a bit more honestly.”

Adrian rubbed his hand over his eyes. He was tired, and he
didn’t want to go any more rounds with Molly. “Think what you like,” he said.

“All right, I think you’re a fool for refusing to listen to
her. You don’t even want to understand. Hasn’t there ever been anything in your
life you wanted so bad that you were terrified of losing it?”

“You seem to forget, Molly. All I’ve ever had in my life is
losses,” Adrian said, then started toward his study.

Molly had stopped on the bottom stair and was looking across
the expanse of the foyer, watching him. “I thought you said you were going to
the mill. The front door is that way,” she said, pointing.

“I know which damn way the front door is,” he shouted. “I
decided to work here.” His tone was lower now. “Do you have a problem with
that?” Not bothering to wait for her to snort again, he gave her his back.

“
Humph!
Don’t reckon I do,” she said, smiling.

Adrian went down the hall to his study, but Molly’s words
followed him. He sat at his desk and picked up a letter and began reading, but
the letters blurred like wet ink, the pigment rearranging itself to become not
letters, but the likeness of a woman.

Maggie.

How could mere ink splotches capture the mystery of those
eyes? Her eyes were the most dazzling and baffling ones that he had ever seen.
They were eyes that looked at him now with pain and sorrow. He shook his head,
feeling irritated with himself for such thoughts. He was a man grown, a man
with work to do. Daydreams and fancy were for children.

Children. The word scraped like a knife across bare bones.
Even the word terrified him. What did he know about children? It had been ages
since he had even seen one. Of course, he wanted children, but they would be
his—and they would be babies when they came, so he would have time to adjust to
them before they turned into little people. It was too much, too soon. He
wasn’t prepared for a full-blown family any more than he had been prepared for
the shock of Maggie’s betrayal.

Maggie. The very sound of her name hurt. His heart wrenched
with the loss.

He forced his attention back to his work. It was no use. He
couldn’t work. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t get his mind on anything, save
Maggie and that little girl up there. He remembered taking her from Maggie as
she climbed from the wagon. The child didn’t weigh more than a pound of
feathers. And she had been so hot.

He shoved away from his desk and stood, going to the window,
watching the rain splatter against the windowpanes. For the first time in
years, a shadowy, blurred image of his little sister, Margery, shimmered in
front of his eyes. He remembered that awful winter before she was kidnapped,
when she had the croup, and how badly she coughed. He recalled how his mother
and father built a tent over her bed with blankets, filling it with kettles of
boiling water, hoping the steam would break the fever that accompanied her
agonzing cough. He saw his father, his face drawn and haggard with worry,
pacing the floor, while his mother sat inside the lent with Margery. But most
of all, he remembered how his father held them both and cried when the fever
broke and his mother said Margery was going to be fine.

A few minutes later, he strode rapidly from his study, his
pace fast and brisk, his face set and composed, as he went upstairs, to the
third floor.

Maggie was standing across the bed from Dr. Farnsworth as he
examined Ainsley. She didn’t notice Adrian when he entered the room and stopped
just inside the door. Folding his arms over his chest, Adrian leaned against
the wall and motioned to the doctor, his eyes moving from the pale, concerned
face of his wife to the pale, feverish face of the child who bore such a strong
resemblance to her.

“Um-hmm, high fever, severe weakness.” Dr. Farnsworth lifted
the tiny gown, examining the bluish spots on her body. “When did these occur?”

“Three days ago,” Maggie said.

“And you say she came down with the fever two days prior to
that?”

“Aye, one day out of San Francisco.”

“Unfortunate,” he said. “Most unfortunate it didn’t happen
when you were there and much closer to a doctor.” He lowered Ainsley’s gown,
then lifted each of her eyelids. “Have you noticed her tongue? Is it white?”

“Aye.”

“Any delirium, talking in her sleep, restless movement,
nervousness?”

“Aye.”

He looked over his glasses at Maggie, giving her a severe
look. “Well? Which one?”

“I canna pick one,” she said, “since she has them all.”

Dr. Farnsworth blinked and said, “Hmmm,” but there was a
glimmer of admiration in his eyes. “I suppose you can’t.”

“Is it bad, then? That she has them all?”

“It’s both bad and good. Bad for obvious reasons, good in
that it helps me with my diagnosis,” Dr. Farnsworth then removed his
eyeglasses, folded them, and put them into his pocket. “Well, God be praised,
it isn’t typhoid. It’s typhus…or ship fever, if you prefer.”

Seeing the stricken look on Maggie’s face, he added, “But
your daughter is young and strong, and otherwise healthy. That in itself offers
much promise.” He contemplated a moment. “If you’re certain she came down with
the fever seven days ago, then she should reach the critical point in three
more days. After that, her fever should drop drastically.”

Maggie looked down at her daughter, seeing the dusky skin,
the deathly pallor. “Is there no anything we can give her? Any medicine?”

“Not really. Generally, typhus fever must run its course.
She seems to be resting well, but I will leave tincture of opium drops for you
to use if her delirium gets severe, or if she is unable to sleep. The delirium
is a normal part of the illness. She will be restless and talk out of her head.
Keep her calm and quiet. Give her soup broth when she’s awake.” He looked
around the room. “This is a large, airy room. That’s good.”

“You ken she has a chance, then?”

Dr. Farnsworth patted Maggie’s shoulder. “There’s always a
chance, Mrs. Mackinnon. I’ve seen people pull through things I never would have
believed they would survive.”

And die from things they shouldn’t
, Adrian heard
himself thinking.

“Like I said, she’s young and healthy. Now, don’t go
worrying yourself sick. You need to stay healthy if you’re going to care for
her properly.”

Maggie felt the burn of tears in her eyes, but the urge to
cry left when she glanced toward the door and saw Adrian standing there.

“How long,” she said, pulling her eyes away from him,
“before I can take her back to Scotland?”

Her words ripped at Adrian’s heart, but he hardened himself
and looked away. It didn’t take a fool to know that question had been asked for
his benefit.

Dr. Farnsworth’s bushy gray brows lifted. “Back to Scotland?
Didn’t you say she just arrived?”

“Aye,” Maggie said, unable to stop her eyes from drifting
over to where Adrian stood.

Dr. Farnsworth glanced from Maggie to Adrian. “I see. Well,
in that case, I would say a return trip would be out of the question for some
time. She needs warmth and quiet and rest for at least three months. Six months
to a year would be better. Typhus can reoccur, you know. To put her back on a
ship at this time would be nothing short of murder, Mrs. Mackinnon.” Maggie’s
eyes grew wider. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you asked my opinion. I see no
reason not to be completely honest with you when I give it. I daresay you
wouldn’t want it any other way. Not when the life of your child is at stake.”

“No, I wouldna. Thank you.”

Maggie changed the cloth on Ainsley’s head, then walked Dr. Farnsworth
downstairs, noticing as she left the room that Adrian was gone. When they
reached the bottom of the stairs, Maggie said, “If you can wait a moment, I’ll
find someone to drive you back to the dock.”

“Wong is waiting outside in the buggy. He’ll drive Dr.
Farnsworth.”

Maggie turned to see Adrian approach. He thanked the doctor
and shook his hand, opening the door for him, stepping out onto the porch. She
watched them walk to the buggy, their heads together, deep in conversation. For
a moment Maggie stood there, watching from the open doorway, then went to find
Molly.

After giving Molly the rest of the day off, Maggie was on
her way back to Ainsley’s room when she came around a comer and saw Adrian. He
was standing beside the door, as if he were waiting for her. He stood tall and
straight, his hands relaxed at his sides.

She gave a start when she saw him, her hand flying to her
breast. “You startled me. I didna expect to see you there,” she said.

“Where are you going?”

“To Ainsley’s room.”

Adrian stood unmoving and silent for a moment, then said, “I
think you should get some rest.”

“I canna rest now. I slept well enough last night.”

“I mean real rest, Maggie. You won’t be any good to Ainsley
if you’re too exhausted to keep your eyes open. Go lie down. I’ll tell Molly to
go stay with her.”

“I just sent Molly home.”

“Why?”

“She’s as tired as I am. She was up most of the night.”