The Caregiver (7 page)

Chapter 9

“Y
ou did the best you could,” a man nearby told Calvin as he and Katie were about to walk away from the horrible driver and his rig.

“Not enough, obviously,” Calvin replied, filled with regret. When Katie sidled up closer to him, he reached out and gently rubbed her arm. “Tomorrow, that poor horse will be walking the same streets, in pain.”

“Maybe, or maybe not. A lot of people around us heard what you had to say,” the man said thoughtfully. “A couple of people even told me they were going to make some calls to the animal welfare league.”

“I’ll pray that something gets done, then. I feel bad for losin’ my temper, but I hate to see any animal getting abused. It ain’t right. That poor mare’s knee was terribly swollen.” He swallowed hard.

“She was near starving, too.”

“That driver didn’t even look like he cared. All he seemed worried about was if he could drive that poor horse another four hours.” The waste of such a fine animal made his heart sink.

“Something will get done, sooner or later. We’ll all make some calls, and who knows—maybe that guy heard you after all and will get the horse some treatment.”

“I can only pray that he did,” Calvin said fervently.

After another awkward look of sympathy, the man left, leaving Calvin alone with Katie. Bending so they were eye level, he searched his little sister’s gaze. “I hope I didn’t scare you. It’s just that, well, I felt terribly sorry for that horse.”

“I felt badly for it, too,” Katie whispered. “We’re much nicer to Beauty.”

Pressing his lips to her brow, he smiled. “You’re right. Compared to that mare, our Beauty is a right lucky horse.” Straightening, he held out his hand. “Well, the best thing to do now is get Lucy and catch our train.”

“I canna wait to go home,” Katie replied, then stopped. “But I don’t see Lucy.”

With dismay, Calvin looked for Lucy, too.

What if something had happened to her! It would be all his fault. He should have minded his responsibilities better, instead of caring so much about something he couldn’t change. “Lucy?” he called out again as he walked back to the spot where he’d left them.

“Katie, where do you think she went? Did you see her go?”

A wrinkle formed between Katie’s brows. “I thought she was gonna stay nearby. But maybe she went back to the train station?”

“I guess she could have.” After all, she certainly wasn’t anywhere they could see. “Hmm. I wonder why she would have left . . .”

“I don’t know. But she looked upset.”

“We better go find her.” Though he knew it didn’t make a lot of sense, Calvin felt a bit put out. If she suddenly didn’t want to wait for him, the least she could have done was walk Katie to his side. Katie was just a little girl. After all, all day long they’d been by each other’s sides, enjoying each other’s company.

“Calvin?” she asked hesitantly, looking up at him. “Did you fix the horse?”

“Nee.”

“The man looked mad at you.”

“That’s okay. I was mad at him, too.”

“Do you think Mamm would’ve gotten mad at you for talking to the man? She says we’re supposed to be kind to everyone.”

Calvin thought about that. “She might have gotten mad at me. And I should have probably kept to myself, but that poor mare needed some help.” He shrugged. “Sometimes, a man has to do what he feels is right, even if it might be wrong.” Realizing how confusing he just sounded, he looked down at his sister. “Did I make any sense to you?”

“Nee.”

Calvin chuckled. “I was afraid of that. Well, don’t worry none. We’ll find Lucy and then get on the train.”

They held hands the rest of the way to the terminal, and finally found Lucy twenty minutes later. She was sitting in a corner, reading a home-and-garden magazine. Immediately, the muscles in his shoulders relaxed. He’d begun to really worry about her safety.

“I’ve been lookin’ for you all over,” Calvin said. “Why did you run off?”

After briefly smiling at Katie, Lucy turned to him, her eyes flat, nearly void of all expression. “You were otherwise occupied.”

What in the world?
He swallowed. “I was talking to that man about his mare. You know that.”

The muscles in her jaw tightened. “That’s not all you were doing. You were yelling at him.”

“I was, but it didn’t help, I don’t think,” he said with a shake of his head. “That man didn’t look like he was of a mind to listen to me at all.”

“I . . . I didn’t know you had a temper, Calvin. I didn’t know you were like that.”

“Like what?” He was completely bewildered—and taken aback by
her
anger. “Lucy, did you see that poor horse?”

“Yes, but she wasn’t who I was concerned with. I was looking at you.”

“Well, you should have spared a moment for that poor animal,” he retorted. “She was in a mighty bad way. You could nearly count her ribs! And I think her knee has an infection. She needs a course of antibiotics and a few weeks off. He’s going to kill her, making her work like that . . .” His voice slowed when he realized she wasn’t listening.

Instead, she seemed to be looking beyond him, at something that wasn’t quite there. “You grabbed his shoulder.”

Calvin remembered that well. “I know I did. He turned away when I was trying to show him the swell—Lucy, what is wrong?”

“Everything.” With measured movements, Lucy closed the magazine and set it neatly next to her. “I’m sorry to say this, but . . . I have no desire to be in your company again.”

“What?” Surely he wasn’t hearing her right. “Lucy, what did I do that got you so upset?”

“Before . . . before I saw you yell . . . I had thought that maybe you were different. I mean . . . you seemed like such a calm person.” Her eyes softened as she turned to his sister. “Katie, this has nothing to do with you. I’ve truly enjoyed getting to know you. Perhaps our paths will cross in Jacob’s Crossing.”

Biting her lip, Katie simply nodded.

But it wasn’t in Calvin’s mind-set to give up so easily. “Lucy, you’re not making sense.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Irritation sliced through him. “And once more, I
am
a calm person.” When she merely raised her brows, he amended his words. “Well, all right. I guess I do sometimes let my temper get the best of me. Sometimes I just can’t help myself. But I am working on it. The Lord knows I try my best.”

“You couldn’t help yourself,” she echoed.

His shirt collar was getting tight. “That’s right. It’s a fault of mine,” he said, struggling to find a way to tell Lucy about how he just couldn’t abide to see animals abused. How something inside of him just snapped, and he’d known he had to at least try to make things better.

Just like he was doing now.

But instead of looking like she wanted to hear what he had to say, she scooted a bit farther away from him. “I see.”

“No, you don’t. Lucy, that man’s
gall
. . . that horse, well . . . Someone needed to take its side,
jah
?”

But instead of warming to him, or talking about how she, too, had felt sorry for the horse, Lucy picked up her magazine and flipped it open.

Leaving him dumbfounded. “Are you going to ignore me now?” Feeling Katie’s unease, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You’re going to ignore us both?”

The magazine snapped shut. “Calvin, please. Please just give me some space.”

Though her expression was pleading . . . though he heard almost a desperation in her voice, Calvin didn’t feel he could do that. “But we just spent the day together,” he protested. “We had popcorn, and walked and walked  . . .” And he was remembering the way she had smiled at him . . . remembering the way she’d laughed by his side, and struggled to come to terms with what she was saying. “Lucy, I thought you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. It was
wunderbaar
.” A flash of pain entered her golden eyes before she blinked and it went away. “But our day is over now.”

Over
. He stepped back. It seemed as if Lucy had just decided to reject him because he dared to defend an animal. Rejecting him just as Gwen had done when she’d gotten tired of waiting for him to propose to her.

Hurt and confusion flowed through him like a raging river.

But he was still enough of a man to know that he didn’t need this. “All right. I trust that you will get on the train just fine without my assistance?”

“I got on it just fine without you, Calvin. I’m sure I will be able to board again, too.”

“Then I’ll leave you.” Looking at Katie, he added grimly, “We’ll leave you in peace.”

“Katie, I am sorry,” Lucy murmured.

Bending down to his sister, Calvin said, “Let’s find something else to do.” Then he took her hand and walked away. As the space between him and Lucy grew, Calvin found himself waiting for her to call out to him. To tell him she was sorry. To tell him to come back and explain things better.

But instead, all he heard was Lucy flip a page of her magazine. As if he, and his sister, hardly mattered to her at all.

Chapter 10

“W
hat is this?” Paul asked, holding up her diary.

He’d found it! Unable to speak, she stared at him from the doorway of their bedroom. Afraid to come any closer.

To her dismay, he bent down and picked up more notebooks. All her journals from the last five years. “Why did you write such things?” he asked, opening one and holding it up to her.

Even from her distance, she saw it was a very old diary. The curlicued handwriting showed that she’d written the entry when she was probably no more than seventeen.

Oh, what had consumed her then? Lucy couldn’t even remember.

A glimmer of hope filled her. Perhaps that was the only journal he’d read?

“It’s just a habit,” she finally said. “I— It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Everything you do concerns me,” Paul said, crossing the room. Walking to her. “You will burn these.”

She nodded. Almost grateful that was the worst that had happened. So grateful that he hadn’t read her thoughts about him. About how she wished he’d leave her. Leave her alone.

L
ucy’s eyes popped open.

Ah, she’d been dreaming again. She shook her head, attempting to clear it. Oh, but that would have been a terrible thing, if Paul had ever found her diaries.

But he never had.

She forced herself to dwell on what Paul’s reaction to her missing journal would have been. Because, surely, there could be nothing worse than that.

Whoever had found her journal had most likely thrown it away.

Her words would never be found. Never read.

And no one else would ever know just how glad she was that her husband was dead.

B
y his estimation, they had little more than an hour left of their journey.

Calvin was bored. Katie had fallen asleep, John was busy playing solitaire on his laptop computer, and Lucy, of course, was somewhere down the aisle.

Ignoring him.

Restless, he opened his backpack, searching for the newspaper. Then he noticed the book he’d picked up when it had slid down the aisle. He pulled it out and ran his hand across the leather binding.

Lucy’s journal.

The right thing to do would be to get up and go take it to her. But there was no doubt in his mind that she’d say he stole it, or some other such nonsense.

The book, with its tan leather cover, was a heavy thing.

Suddenly, he was curious about Lucy’s handwriting. Was it as prim and proper as the rest of her?

Somehow he was sure it would be. No doubt every letter would be painstakingly formed. She probably recorded each day’s weather and documented every minuscule event.

Giving in to temptation, he opened the journal in the middle. Just to see what her handwriting looked like. The pages inside were slightly rough, as if they’d been written on front and back with a pencil.

To his surprise, the writing was far from a neat and tidy cursive. Instead of perfectly formed letters, he found lazily sprawled sentences, some words running into the next, like she wrote in a hurry.

Or perhaps, without caring.

A flicker of unease went through him. He should close the cover immediately and walk it down the aisle to Lucy. The contents were definitely none of his business. What she wrote was personal.

He would be invading her privacy in the very worst way.

But still he looked.

I’m glad he’s dead. I don’t miss him. Sometimes—and I’m sorry, Lord—sometimes I wish he’d died sooner.

Stunned, Calvin slammed the book shut. Slipped the journal back in his backpack. Zipped it shut.

And closed his eyes, wishing he’d never picked up the journal.

But even with his eyes closed, Lucy’s words seemed to be permanently etched in his brain. How could someone so sweet have so much evil and anger inside of her?

How could a woman he admired even think such a sin?

It was troubling, indeed.