Prairie Fire (14 page)

“No, Jack!” Lucy held out her manacled wrists. Her fingers, their nails bitten to the nubs, stretched toward her brother. “Jack, don’t leave me out there.”

“It’s okay, Lucy.” He shoved his hands down into his pockets and walked to her side. “We’ll all go outside together. Come on, Mama.”

“I’m scared, Jack,” his sister whispered.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you here, Lucy. This is a good place. Remember I told you about the mercantile and Miss Murphy who runs it? This is Miss Murphy, right here. She’s a good woman.”

The empty eyes focused on Caitrin. “Does she … does she know about … about the soldiers? …”

“Keep quiet, Lucy!” Felicity cut in. “You know you’re not to talk of family matters in public.”

“She doesn’t know anything, Lucy,” Jack said. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m happy to meet you, Miss Cornwall,” Caitrin said. When she extended her hand, Lucy shrank back as if in fear she’d be struck. Caitrin lowered her hand and smoothed out her apron.

“Sure, you must be worn from all your travels, Miss Cornwall. Once I open my restaurant in Hope, I’ll treat you all to a good meal. As it is, I can only offer a few chairs and that small table. But I’ll be happy to lay out an afternoon tea for everyone. I’ve fresh rolls baked this morning, and perhaps I can even find a few sweets left from the Valentine party.”

Sheena gaped at her sister, but Caitrin didn’t care. If Jesus had treated all people with respect and honor, why should she be any different? Maybe Jack Cornwall was a wicked fellow, his sister troubled, and his mother ill tempered. Jesus had washed the dirty feet of his disciples, dined with prostitutes, and healed the slave of a rich man. Her Lord had been a servant, and she would do no less. Marching across the room, she began clearing the table of the receipts she’d been entering into her ledger.

“Sheena, will you please set the kettle on the stove?” she called. “Mrs. Cornwall, do you like sugar and milk with your tea?”

“Caitie, be reasonable!” Sheena hissed.

“Thank you for your offer of tea, Miss Murphy, but we must be going.” Felicity Cornwall began moving her family toward the door. “We shall set up our camp near the Bluestem Creek, and Jack will begin building his smithy in the morning. Good day.”

Caitrin set the ledger and receipts back onto the table as the visitors exited the mercantile. If the good citizens of Hope had thought of Jack Cornwall as a troublemaker before, she could hardly imagine what they were going to say now. What sort of man must he be to keep his sister in chains? Vile! And the mother—how could she allow her poor daughter to go unwashed and uncombed? It was disgraceful.

“Miss Murphy?” Jack Cornwall poked his head back into the mercantile. “Suppose I could talk to you a minute?”

“I should think not!” Sheena exclaimed.

“Oh, please, Sheena, do take your basket and go home to Jimmy. I must close the shop in a moment anyway.”

“My husband will not be pleased when he hears the news that Jack Cornwall has returned,” Sheena said, leaving the store with her nose in the air. “And neither will Seth.”

Caitrin crossed her arms around her waist as Jack approached her in the empty building. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t sent her sister away. The man was taller than she remembered, broader across the shoulders, and more deeply tanned. She had forgotten how he filled a room, as though the everyday things inside it had shrunk into themselves. But she hadn’t forgotten his gray eyes.

“I owe you my thanks, Miss Murphy,” he said, his hat in his hands. “That’s three times you’ve come to my defense.”

“I hadn’t much choice in the barn when you lay injured. And at the wedding … well, I thought it bold of you to come unarmed and place your request before Seth. But I doubt my support will count for much in the days ahead, Mr. Cornwall.”

“I know I’ll have to earn the town’s trust. I can do it, too … if they’ll give me time.”

Caitrin ran her hand along the edge of a counter. She tried to think of polite words to fill in the silence between them, but she and Jack had never spoken lightly. Their conversations of the past had always been urgent and often heated. Perhaps it was best that way.

“Why do you keep your sister in chains?” she spoke up. “You’re a blacksmith. Surely you could remove them.”

“I’m the one who made them.”

“You made those dreadful manacles?” Caitrin stared at him. “But you’re treating Lucy as badly as the most pitiful of slaves are treated! She must shuffle along instead of walking. She can barely even lift her hands.”

“I know.” He rolled his hat brim. “Look, Miss Murphy—Caitrin—you’re the only human being I’ve run into lately with a lick of kindness. Don’t judge my family until you know the truth.”

“I’ll not judge you even after I know the truth. But it’s hard to stand by and watch a woman be treated in such an abhorrent manner.”

Jack let out a deep breath and looked away. “We
have
to keep Lucy in chains.”

“Why?”

“She tries to hurt herself,” he said in a low voice. “There have been times when she … when she tried to take her life.”

“Oh, Jack.”

“The chains aren’t to punish Lucy. They’re for my own peace of mind. I have to protect her from herself. Not too long ago, she got loose from Mama, climbed up onto the roof of the house, and tried to jump off. I barely got up there in time to stop her. We don’t have a choice in this, Caitrin. My sister may be chained, but at least she’s alive.”

Caitrin tried to absorb the terrible significance of what Jack had told her. “What kind of a life can she ever hope to lead?”

“Lucy has no hope … and she doesn’t want to live.”

“But God offers everyone hope for an abundant life. If only she knew her heavenly Father—”

“There’s no easy answer to this, Caitrin,” Jack cut in. “I told you before, nobody can fix Lucy.”

Caitrin shook her head. “I cannot believe that. Perhaps if you bathed her, she would start to feel a little better. At the very least you could brush her hair and dress her in a pretty skirt.”

“My sister won’t let anyone touch her. If you get too close, she screams. When I walk near Lucy, I keep my hands in my pockets so she’ll know I’m not going to lay a finger on her. She can’t stand anybody washing her or combing her hair. We can’t even get her out of that dress.” He eyed Caitrin. “That’s the way it is. But Lucy’s my sister, and I’m going to stand by her no matter what.”

“That’s a good thing … but the chains are not. People here will think badly of you for keeping her in shackles.”

“So, help them understand.”

Caitrin swallowed. That was a grand wish. She couldn’t even get her sister to be civil to the Cornish in their midst. Hope certainly had its share of different nationalities in the community—Rolf Rustemeyer, the German farmer; the Laskis from Poland; the LeBlancs from France; and the Rippetos from Italy. Thus far, the families had lived in harmony. She had a terrible feeling that was about to change.

“I shall try to make your family welcome,” Caitrin said. “I’ll do as the good Lord commands, but—”

“But how do
you
feel about it?” He touched her sleeve. “Caitrin, I told you I would come back, and I have. I’m not the man I was when I left Hope the first time. I’ve changed, and I want you to understand that.”

“What has happened, Jack?”

“One night last fall, after I left the O’Tooles’ barn … well, it was the lowest night of my life—and I’ve had some pretty bad times. Right out on the road, I got down on my knees, Caitrin, and I prayed so hard I thought I’d bust. It sure seemed like God was talking to me that night, forgiving me for my wrongs and welcoming me into a new life. I knew right then I had to come back here and get Seth to let me build the smithy. And I knew I needed to see you again. Every day I was gone, I thought about you. Thought about the words you said to me in the barn that first night. Did you think of me, Caitrin?”

Heat crept up the back of her neck. “I … I suppose I did, aye.”

“Did you miss me, Caitrin?”

“I hardly knew you well enough.”

“You knew me. Blazin’ Jack and Fiery Caitrin, remember? You understood me better than anyone ever has.” He searched her face. “And I understood you.”

“Aye.”

Though her heart had softened toward this man, she could not forget how the people in Hope would view him—as a hot-tempered avenger, a difficult and demanding presence, a man who would not be pushed around. Such a person would find it difficult to fit into a warm, loving community and become part of the team working to build the town of Hope. Though Jack professed a newfound commitment to the Lord, only time would allow him to live out his faith. And Caitrin could not be sure people would give him that time. She felt all too certain that the Cornwalls would not stay long, and her heart could not afford the pain of another loss.

“The people of this town will find it hard to accept you,” she told him. “Sure, you might as well realize that. Not only have you brought your own less-than-shining reputation, but you’ve brought other difficulties.”

“Lucy.”

“She’s very troubled.”

“My sister hasn’t always been this bad off, Caitrin. Things got a lot worse when she found out Papa was about to die.”

“Your father died? You didn’t tell me! When did it happen?”

“Not long ago. That’s why I couldn’t get back here sooner. Papa took sick, and he lingered through the winter. We buried him one day and set out for Kansas the next. I reckon I don’t need to tell you that Mama wanted to stay in Missouri. The only thing that calmed her was knowing she’d get to see Chipper again. Lucy loves the boy, too.”

“Oh, Chipper! But that makes things even worse! I doubt if Seth will want the Cornwalls spending time with his son. He’s very protective of the child. And now Rosie is … well … Seth will probably draw his family close around him. He loves them so much, and you caused such trouble before. Now things are going to be so … so difficult.”

“Tell me a time when things aren’t difficult.” Jack gave a humorless laugh. “You’re right in saying I brought more than my reputation along. I brought a group of decent people—the folks I care about most. Lucy has her problems, but I don’t know a family that’s perfect. Do you?”

Was he daring her to bring up the O’Tooles as the shining example of a family? Caitrin knew that must include her sharp-tongued sister. Aye, Sheena had her flaws. All of them did. No one in the close-knit Irish family could be called perfect, but at least they blended. Sheena had accused her sister of believing she could change everyone to fit an ideal image. But Caitrin obviously could do nothing to make Jack Cornwall blend into the peaceable community of Hope. Or the prickly Felicity. Or Lucy.

“No one is perfect,” Caitrin said, untying her apron. “As the Good Book says, ‘For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.’” With a sigh, she picked up her workbasket. “I won’t lie to you, Mr. Cornwall. I was hoping you’d come back to Hope. You brought a bit of a spark into my life, so you did. And when you turned up at Rosie’s wedding, you lit a little fire under the people here. You set them to thinking. You challenged them to move beyond their fears. You forced them to take a step toward forgiveness. But now that I see you again, I’m afraid.”

“I never intended to scare you, Caitrin.” His voice was low.

“Aye, but you have. Your Cornish mother and your troubled sister are naught but kindling to the fire you started last autumn. I’m afraid that fire will grow and spread until it changes into a roaring inferno that could destroy the town of Hope.”

“No!” Jack hammered his fist on the counter and set the glass to shivering. “The only inferno I intend to light is the one inside my forge. I came here to work and take care of my family. I came for a fresh start.”

“Only God gives fresh starts.”

“I know that!” He took a step closer to her. “Caitrin, my past has been one rung after another on the ladder that proves a single man can’t change the world. First, I thought I could bring Missouri a fresh start, so I fought in a bloody war that came to nothing. Next, I thought I could join up with a gang of vigilantes and keep the cause alive even when it was doomed. Not only did I fail to set Missouri free, but now one of my former friends is trying to track me down and haul me before the law. Then I got the notion to save Chipper. I lost that one, too. After that, I believed I could protect and help my sister. I stay right beside her every minute, but it’s all I can do to keep her alive.”

Jack lifted his hand to a tress that had tumbled from Caitrin’s bun, and he sifted the strands of auburn hair between his thumb and forefinger. “When you told me you loved me—and God loved me—it was the first time in my life I realized there was hope outside myself. After I left you and Rosie that night in the barn, I got to thinking about all I’d tried to do and how it had come to nothing. I wondered if maybe I
didn’t
have to change the world myself. That was when I realized there was only one way to get a fresh start. Only one Person who could turn things around for me.”

“The Lord,” Caitrin whispered, amazed at his repeated avowals of conversion to a living faith in Christ.

“I figured you were the person who could best help me to understand the nature of Jesus. And when I saw how everybody in Hope stuck together and helped each other out, I realized they were living the way God says folks should. So I thought I’d better come back here and join in. And then maybe things would get better.”

“Oh, Jack, you mustn’t look to
me
if you want to know who
God
is.” Caitrin took both his hands in hers. “You mustn’t set your eyes on the people of—”

“Cornwall?” Seth Hunter stood silhouetted in the open door of the mercantile. Behind him, Jimmy O’Toole stared, shifting a rifle he carried over his shoulder. Rolf Rustemeyer, an axe in one hand, made the third in the party.

“Yeah, I’m back.” Jack moved away from Caitrin and took a step toward the men. “I reckon you remember agreeing I could build a smithy on your land.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I figured maybe you had.”

“Mr. Cornwall was nursing his ill father,” Caitrin said, joining Jack. “He recently passed away. The family has come to Hope for a new beginning. I’m sure we’ll be happy to have them here.”