Nordin, Ruth Ann - South Dakota Series 02 - Bid for a Bride (20 page)

"You have children too?" Phillip demanded, outraged that Mark would do this to his children on top of everything else. "Is there no hole deep enough that you won’t sink into?"

"I’ll leave you to him," the sheriff said. "Good luck getting anything useful out of him."

After the sheriff left, Meredith approached the cell.

Mark’s gaze traveled from Phillip to her and he chuckled. "Oh, I remember Lucy now. Prettiest little thing I ever laid eyes on, even if she had that mole on her left breast. I remember it because it was the only blemish she had."

Phillip shook the bars while his mother burst into tears.

"You’re lucky I can’t get in there or else I’d strangle you!"

His father put his hand on Phillip’s arm. "Wait. Just wait."

Turning to Mark, he said, "All we want to know is where Lucy is. We’ll leave you be if you just tell us."

Mark shrugged. "There’s nothing in it for me if I tell you."

His father clenched his hands and gave Phillip a look that told him he was angry but also getting exhausted.

Phillip banged the bars, wishing he could say some choice words but knowing he couldn’t. Putting his head in his hands, he groaned. This was a horrible nightmare. He could only imagine how scared and lonely Lucy must be.

"This is pointless," his father finally said. "We might do better to talk to his legal wife."

Mark snorted. "She won’t be any help. I was careful not to tell her where I went."

"Well, you got caught didn’t you?" Phillip hit the bars again.

"Someone recognized you and turned you in, you pathetic rat!"

"How long did you get away with it?" Meredith asked.

The question was so unexpected that Phillip and his father turned to her. For a moment, Phillip had forgotten she was even there.

Mark rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling. "Oh, I don’t know. It’s been quite awhile ago, but I think it was a good seven years."

"And you chose Lucy because… ?" she asked.

"I couldn’t exactly take both of you, sweetheart." He scanned her up and down. "Though I assure you, I would have had it been allowed."

Phillip’s mother cried harder into her handkerchief and Phillip growled at Mark. He’d love nothing more than to wipe that smirk off of Mark’s face.

"This is getting us nowhere," his father said. "Let’s get out of here."

"Yes," Mark replied. "Get on out. You’re all a boring lot anyway." His gaze went to Meredith. "Well, except for one."

Her father grabbed Meredith’s hand and glared at Mark. "You won’t treat any other woman with such disrespect again!"

Reluctant to leave, Phillip joined his family as they returned to the sheriff’s desk. "Jail’s too good for that man," he grumbled.

"Poor Lucy," his mother said, sniffing again. "I want my baby back."

His father put his arm around her shoulders. "We’ll find Lucy. It’s just a matter of time."

The sheriff looked up from his work. "No luck, huh?"

"We’d like to talk to Mark’s wife. Can you tell us where she’s staying?" his father asked.

The sheriff pointed to the left. "She’s over at the preacher’s house. It’s down two blocks that way. You can’t miss it. It’s a bright yellow house. The only kind in town."

"Thank you."

Phillip gave one last look in the direction of the cells and clenched his jaw. How he wished he had five minutes in that cell with Mark. He’d make the rat talk, and by the time he was done with him, Mark would wish he’d never touched a woman.

"Are you coming, Phillip?" his mother asked.

With a heavy sigh, he nodded and exited the building with his family.

***

Phillip sighed as he placed the cup back on the table in the parlor. He wasn’t in the mood to drink anything, no matter how delicious the coffee was. The sight of Vivian, Mark’s legal wife, depressed him to no end. Her body sagged in the chair, her face was pale, her eyes were sunken in, and her hands trembled as she twirled the napkin in her hands.

This must be how poor Lucy looks was all he kept thinking. He felt sick to his stomach. Vivian’s children, thankfully, weren’t in the room, but the sound of children running back and forth upstairs made him wince. Three children she now had to raise without a spouse. He prayed Mark didn’t get Lucy with child.

It was bad enough knowing he dropped her off somewhere without adding a child to the mess.

"Do you have anyone to help with the children?" Phillip asked.

With a shaky breath, she said, "My parents and his."

"I know this is hard for you," Phillip’s father began in a gentle voice, "but did he mention any places he’d been to during his trips as a salesman?"

"Oh, I don’t know. Let me think." She stared at her hands as she continued to twirl the napkin in her lap. Though the cup and a small plate of cookies remained on the small table next to her, she didn’t bother touching them. "Um… Well… Cincinnati was one place he often went to."

Phillip’s father turned to him. "Do you think Lucy might be there?"

Phillip shook his head. "Too obvious. There are too many people there. It’d be too easy for others to track him down."

Phillip glanced at his sister who sipped the coffee from her chair by the window. She had her legs crossed and was swinging one of her legs as if she didn’t have a care in the world. His gaze fell back to his parents who sat on the small couch, holding each other’s hands and leaning into each other. Why didn’t they notice the way Meredith was acting? Were they truly that blind to what was going on right in front of them? Teresa had told him that some parents looked at their children and saw what they wanted to see, and maybe she was right.

Vivian shrugged. "Kansas City, St. Louis, Des Moines, Fargo. I think Minneapolis on occasion."

"Minneapolis is where Lucy met him," Phillip said. "Actually, it was in St. Paul, but the two cities are close enough. He claimed to be a distant relative of Teresa Comwell. Does that name ring a bell?"

"Mark has no relatives, distant or otherwise, in Minnesota. Our families have been in Ohio for two generations, and no one has ventured west of that."

Phillip thought over Vivian’s words. If Mark went west in his travels, then it made sense he’d drop a woman off out west, especially far away from his family. And he wouldn’t go to a big city. Maybe he picked up a woman in a big city, but then he made a point to leave. He tapped his fingers on his lips.

He had told Lucy he was taking her to Oregon.

He glanced at his father. "If he married Lucy in Minnesota and was heading west, then he’d have three states to go through before he ended up in Oregon: South Dakota, Wyoming, and Idaho. She’s got to be in one of those states."

At that, Meredith looked over at Phillip, her eyebrows raised in interest.

"Good. Good!"

His father looked relieved. "Now we’re getting somewhere." Turning to Vivian, he asked, "Has he been to any of those states? Has he said anything about them?"

"I’m sorry," Vivian replied. "I don’t recall. There were many things he said, but I don’t know which were true and which weren’t." Her lower lip quivered and she returned her gaze to the napkin.

"We’re sorry to have bothered you," Phillip said, wishing he could ease her pain but knowing he couldn’t do or say anything that would suffice. Sighing, he stood. "I think we should see if the sheriff will talk to the other lawmen in those states, including Oregon. Maybe one of them will know something."

His parents got up and went to thank Vivian while Meredith finished her coffee, gently placed the cup on the center table, and eased out of her chair. She adjusted her broach before she headed for the entryway. Phillip frowned. While his parents expressed their sympathies to Vivian over what Mark did to her, he slipped out of the parlor and cornered his sister.

"Could you show any more contempt for Lucy or the rest of us?" he hissed.

She picked up her coat which was on top of the others on the chair by the front door and shrugged into it. "I don’t know what you mean."

He grabbed her elbow and turned her around so she was facing him. "I’m not blind. I can see what you think of this whole thing."

She scowled at him. "You don’t know what I’m feeling. I’m greatly distressed over this occurrence."

"You’re not that good of a liar, Meredith."

Yanking her elbow out of his hand, she buttoned her coat.

"People express grief differently. Can I help it if I’m not a crier like Mother or a blubbering idiot like Father?" She glared at him. "Or a reckless man such as yourself who spouts off before he learns anything useful? I bet I could get whatever information I wanted out of Mark if the sheriff let me see him without the lot of you hounding around me. I managed to get two pieces of information from him while the rest of you failed, and I did that in a matter of seconds. Imagine if I had five minutes with him."

"And how much would it profit you to talk to him?" Phillip asked, keeping his voice low.

With an amused smile, she shrugged. "A lot, I imagine. I, after all, have something he obviously can’t resist."

He furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding her meaning, but before he could ask for clarification, their parents entered the entryway. "We’ll talk later," he whispered before he turned his attention to gathering the coats.

"Maybe," she replied as she brushed past him so she could stand by the door.

Forcing aside his irritation, he handed his parents the coats and told Vivian, "Please accept my condolences. And," he added as an afterthought, "we’re sorry to have put you through more grief."

Vivian offered a weak smile. "You’re the third family I’ve talked to since I’ve been here. I expect more to pop by before I head back home."

Not knowing what else to say, he patted her on the shoulder.

"Again, I’m sorry." Then he turned back to his family and got ready to talk to the sheriff once more.

The baby moved in Lucy’s womb. She smiled and put down her knitting so she could touch her stomach. Glancing at the small bedroom, she wondered if she missed anything. It now had curtains, a rug, a small dresser and a crib. She’d spent enough time sewing clothes and blankets, and she was well stocked in cloth diapers. It seemed that she had everything she needed.

The baby moved again and she laughed. "You’re sure anxious to come into the world. It’s not March yet."

The baby kicked in response, making her smile grow wider.

She was looking forward to holding her child. Sighing, she turned her attention to the crackling fire beside her. The parlor was nice and warm despite the pile of snow on the property. As Brian said, the trees did a good job of protecting the house, which made his task of shoveling less burdensome.

Setting aside the afghan she was making, she laid down on the couch and closed her eyes. Soon, she drifted off to sleep. The sound of someone opening the front door woke her. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and saw that Brian was taking off his boots.

His face was red from shoveling the fresh layer of snow so they could more easily walk to Eliza and John’s house.

She got up from the couch when she realized John came in behind him, carrying a small toy chest. "You made something else for the baby?" she asked the two men as Brian put his boots down.

"Pa says it’s a gift from him and Ma," Brian said as he took off his coat and put it on the hook by the door.

"But I thought the crib, dresser, bassinet, rattle, and doll were the gifts," she replied.

John smiled and set the wooden toy chest on the kitchen table before he signed to her. More gifts.

"You’re going to spoil the child, aren’t you?" she asked him, sensing that he and Eliza weren’t done buying and making things for the baby. "This chest is for more than a rattle and doll."

Brian laughed and reached for her. "You can’t blame them for being excited. They’ve been looking forward to having a grandchild ever since they found out you were expecting."

She took his hand. "I suppose so, judging by all these gifts."

How are you feeling? John signed to her.

"Good," she said, rubbing her belly. "Tired most of the time. It’s hard to sleep with the heartburn on some nights if I’m not careful with what I eat. Other than that, I feel good. I’m more excited than anything else."

John nodded his agreement. Tucking his hand under Brian’s he signed.

"Pa says you’re not the only one having trouble sleeping. Ma tosses and turns most nights. Then during the days, she keeps looking out the window because she thinks I’ll come running to tell her it’s time for you to give birth." Brian laughed. "She saw me earlier today and charged out of the house before Pa told her all I was doing was shoveling."

"The poor woman," Lucy said and chuckled. "This baby can’t come soon enough for her."

"She’ll be thrilled when the time comes for you to give birth," Brian replied.

"It’ll be good to see her holding the baby," Lucy said. "Thank you for the toy chest. It was wonderful of you to make it."

John thanked her and patted Brian on the back before he left the house, shutting the door behind him.

"I should have asked him if he and your ma wanted to come over for supper," she said. "Maybe I can reach him before he gets too far."

"Lucy, don’t. You’re ready to give birth soon. You need to rest up as much as you can. Once the baby is born, you won’t get much opportunity to, or at least that’s what I overhear from the ladies at church."

"I know. You’re right. I should rest, especially during the day when the heartburn isn’t a problem."

"Right." He led her to the couch and sat down with her. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he kissed her cheek. "Is the baby moving?"

"A little." She brought his hand to her stomach where the baby jabbed her. "Here."