The Revenant (18 page)

On the other side stood Dr. Stewart.

Chapter 23

W
HEN
I
STUMBLED BACKWARD
, he grabbed my arm. I screamed, but there was no one to hear me. He jerked me into the building and shut the door. The vestibule was so cold our breath steamed in the air. The doctor gripped me with both hands, pinning me against the door. His face was damp with sweat, but his eyes were icy.

“Don’t struggle, Miss McClure.”

“You are hurting me!” I fought him, trying to reach for the knife in my pocket, but he held my arms firm.

“If you would only be still, I could explain myself.”

My arms ached—he was much too strong for me. “Eli Sevenstar is meeting me here—he’ll not let you hurt me.”

He shook his head, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Mr. Sevenstar is not coming.”

“Yes, he is—” I broke off as the realization dawned. “
You
sent the telegram.”

“I did. Clever, wasn’t it? I saw how you two looked at each other at Foster’s store. If memory serves, you spent an unladylike amount of time alone with him at the Bell Christmas party too.”

All the blood in my body seemed to drain to my toes. My knees buckled, but he forced me upright against the wall. His eyes were terrifyingly blue.

I swallowed hard. “Are you going to kill me?”

“It’s tempting, for I’m certain everyone would blame your disappearance on Mr. Sevenstar.” He looked away, as though considering the options. “But I’d rather not. I mean to give you a choice.”

“What choice?”

“You took something of mine. I want it back.”

“That’s all?”

“And you must leave here. Today. As soon as the letter is in my hand.”

I stared at him. “What did you do to Eli?”

His eyes widened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now stop being a fool. I’ve worked too hard to let a nobody like you take it all away from me.” He squeezed my arms even tighter.
“I need that letter.”

I gasped at the pain. “All right. It’s upstairs.”

“I’ll follow you.” He released my right arm and shoved his hand against my neck. “But I need you to stay calm. Any sudden moves and I’ll have no choice but to hurt you.”

A memory came to me of Fannie’s screams as he shoved her shoulder into place. He knew the human body intimately—if he could heal it, he also knew how to harm it. How could I stop him? Cale’s spirit had no power past the first floor. It was up to me. But I couldn’t bear the thought of actually using the knife in my pocket—the very idea of the blade sinking into the doctor’s flesh made my stomach lurch.

So I merely nodded.

He smiled and removed his hand from my neck, gesturing for me to walk before him in a parody of gentlemanly grace. I stumbled toward the staircase.

When we reached the first landing, a distant explosion made us both jump.

The doctor jerked me around to face him. “What was that?”

Cale, please help me
. I could hear water gushing—so much that it had to be from more than one pipe. “Sounded like it came from the water closet.”

“Keep walking.”

The explosions continued with each step I took, sounding from as far away as the kitchen. The dank odor of stagnant water wafted by my nostrils. At this rate, the burst pipes would flood the floor by the time I went back downstairs.
If
I went back downstairs. I put my hand lightly on the knife in my pocket, praying for the courage to use it.

The doctor pressed against my shoulder. “Hurry.”

We’d reached the second floor. I went to my door and opened it, stepping inside quickly with the thought of slamming the door on him. But he shouldered his way through, pushing me onto my haunches.

“This is my last warning. Stop your foolishness and get the letter.”

Stifling a sob, I crawled over to the bed. Careful to keep my back to him, I slipped my left hand under the mattress. I touched the folded note first, then the heavy paper of Ella’s letter. I pulled the letter out. At the same time, I reached with my right hand for the knife in my pocket. I needed to rush at him, to throw him off balance. But the best I could do was push myself to my feet and thrust the knife toward his face.

He stepped back, his mouth widening into a grin. “Well, look what you’ve been hiding.”

“If I give you the letter, you’ll just kill me!”

He nodded slowly. “Probably.”

“But if you leave now, I won’t hurt you.”

He laughed. Then he lifted a hand and crooked his fingers, beckoning. “Come on, then. Do your worst.”

Tears welled in my eyes. I had to do something. He was an animal, a crazed beast that needed to be put down. If I could wound him, I’d have the chance to run. With a cry of rage, I lashed out with the knife.

I was too slow. He grabbed my wrist, squeezing until I let go the knife. Keeping his eyes on me, he reached down to pick it up. Then he ripped the letter from my left hand. After quickly scanning it, he refolded the paper and placed it and the knife in his own pocket.

In one breath, we were both completely still, staring at each other. In the next, his hand was in the air.

I heard as well as felt the crack of his knuckles on my head. Before I could scream, before I could take a breath, I fell hard against the wall and sank into darkness.

Chapter 24

I
WOKE TO THE CHILL
of cold water soaking my skirt up to my thighs. Opening one eye, I saw the shadow of the doctor’s head in a blinding flash of sunlight. His hands were gripped under my arms, and my heels dragged along gravelly mud. He’d carried me to the river—slung over his back, I thought vaguely—and was now pulling me into the water.

Everyone was at the picnic. Not a soul knew I was about to die.

I kicked and scratched with all my strength, which wasn’t much. He only pulled me deeper.

“You murdering bastard,” I spluttered, then winced at the searing pain in my head.

He said nothing.

I tried to scream but could only squeeze a scratchy yelp from my throat.

He stopped and looked at me, and for a moment I thought there might be remorse in his eyes. Then his jaw hardened.

I took a deep breath before he pushed me under, releasing the air in slow bursts as he held me down. I kicked at his legs, but he stood firm. Through the rippled murk of the water, he looked fierce and terrible, grimacing with effort. My head and chest felt so tight I had to stop fighting—it took all my concentration to keep my eyes open and upon him. I would die looking at him. He would never forget my eyes. I prayed the sight of my face would live in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

The pressure in my lungs was like a scream begging me to breathe.

I writhed, fighting the urge. A shadow came over my left side, and I turned to see a face. A boy with black hair. His eyes widened. He reached out to me, his hand cold as ice on my skin.

I wanted to laugh.

Death was a boy with dark eyes.

I opened my mouth, swallowing the water.

He saw so much in that moment
.

The past came to him first. Ella’s pale face in the water—the doctor’s hands pushing her down. He heard his own scream as her limp body floated away. A jagged rock in the doctor’s hand sliced toward him like an executioner’s blade. He stumbled, rage flowing hot through his veins. The darkness came anyway
.

He focused on the present, anger flaring again as he watched this
girl struggle. At least she had a chance to fight—unlike Ella—but it wasn’t enough. Hadn’t she asked for his help? Well, he would give that and more. When he saw her mouth open in surprise, he made his move
.

He saw through her eyes. The doctor’s face above his, blurred as though seen through poorly blown glass. Her body was heavy, weak, but his anger flooded through her veins, rousing it to life. He kicked again and again. Finally, he found the vulnerable spot. The doctor contorted, gasping for breath. He kicked the gut this time, and as the doctor reeled backward, he found his feet
.

He slogged through the water to the still-gasping man, using his left hand to jerk the body forward by the collar. His right hand reached into the doctor’s pocket, finding the paring knife. He thrust it against the doctor’s neck. An artery pulsed there, ready to be opened. Ready to bleed for vengeance
.

All around them the water boiled with his rage
.

The doctor looked up, staring at his face. “Miss McClure, have mercy!”

He spoke, but the voice was not his own. “The girl can’t hear you, Doc.”

The water churned, moving in waves that slapped at the man’s face as it contorted in fear
.

“Oh Christ,” moaned the doctor. “Ella?”

“Think again.”

The doctor blinked, and then his eyes widened in recognition. “I didn’t want to kill anyone! I just needed to shut her up. She didn’t feel a thing, I promise. What was I supposed to do when you saw me?” The man was sobbing. “I had to protect myself.”

Drawing the knife back, he tensed his arm to strike at the artery
.

“Willemina!” shouted a voice on the riverbank. A crashing of water followed as someone entered the river
.

He held his hand in the air, confused by the cry behind him. Then he stepped forward, moving away from the voice, pushing the doctor deeper into the water
.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, his voice choked by the churning water. Then his head plunged downward, as though the riverbed dropped beneath him
.

His rage spent, Cale sank with the doctor into cold darkness
.

Chapter 25

I
OPENED ONE EYE TO BLINDING LIGHT
and quickly closed it again. My body was being pulled from the water and carried toward the shore. My nose and throat burned, and I could barely breathe for coughing. Someone laid me down in the grass and gently tilted me on my side to cough up the final swallows of river water. My head was splitting, and my chest ached with each heaving breath.

I opened both eyes and saw Eli’s face.

“Am I dead?” I croaked.

“No, thank God!”

He held me tight, squeezing so hard it seemed I might never get my breath back. But I didn’t mind, for he was kissing my forehead, cheek, and finally … my mouth.

“Your lips are so cold,” he murmured, covering them again with his own. When he pulled back, he smiled. “At least they’re not quite so blue anymore.”

I clutched at his sleeve. “I thought you were dead. I thought he got to you.”

He glanced at the river, then back at me. “I was in Atoka, where that blasted telegram was sent—the one I got last year. I knew the sheriff would be after me unless I could prove someone else really sent it.”

“But … surely you could have explained to him.”

He shook his head. “I panicked at the look in Larkin’s eyes. My
friend
thought I was a liar. I bet you did too when you heard about it. Everyone must have thought I killed Cale.”

I looked down before he could see the confirmation in my eyes.

“It stood to reason that whoever sent it was the real killer—the person who killed my best friend,” he continued. “It was a long shot, but what else could I do? I hoped someone there might remember who sent the telegram to me, ’cause it certainly wasn’t Cale.”

“It was Dr. Stewart,” I said. “I got one from him this morning, saying to meet you.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“How?”

“I went to the source. The postmaster’s assistant didn’t want to help me at first—he acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about. But when I offered him my gold pocket watch, you should have seen how quickly his memory improved. He remembered a tall, fair-haired man with a Northern accent sending a telegram a year ago. But I feared his testimony wouldn’t be enough for the sheriff. I needed more.”

“What got you
here
?”

“The assistant’s greed. This morning he said the same man arranged to have another telegram sent, and he sold me a copy of the order.” Eli’s eyes flashed with anger. “That
doctor
killed Cale and Ella, and now he was going after you. I could never—
would
never—let that happen. I set out for the seminary as quick as I could.”

“But the river—how did you know?”

He looked away, taking a deep breath before he spoke. “I saw the water in the school, from the burst pipes. When I smelled it, I knew where you were.” He shook his head. “It sounds absurd, but I was absolutely certain you were at the river. We ran as fast as we could.”

“We?” I stared at him. “Where’s the doctor?”

He turned toward the river and pulled me up until I sat, leaning against him. I followed his gaze. Someone was in the water, thrashing about—a man whose head bobbed and then disappeared. There was a pause of eerie quiet as the ripples in the water widened and smoothed. Then the head burst through the surface, the mouth taking a great gulp of air. “I can’t see him!” the man in the water shouted. “The water’s too dark. But I’m pretty sure he’s still in there, farther downstream.” He pushed his wet hair back as he turned. “Is she all right?”

I gasped. “Oh my God. Toomey?” My mouth hung open as my mind struggled to form a question, a response, or even a coherent thought. How had my mother’s wretched husband found me? And how had he managed to fall in with Eli Sevenstar?

Eli was frowning at Toomey. “Could he still be alive after all this time?”

I pulled at his sleeve. “Who are you talking about?”

He turned to me. “The doctor. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember him pushing me under the water. He meant to drown me.”

“You were about to stab him. I thought you
had
stabbed him when he went under, but you’ve got no blood on you.”

I clutched my head, feeling dazed. “What are you talking about?”

But Eli had turned away. I followed his gaze to see Toomey heave himself out of the river, his great bulk dripping. He paused to twist his shirttails, wringing out the water. All I could do was stare as he lumbered toward us.

“He’s gone,” Toomey said simply, groaning as he dropped to the ground near us.

“He’s drowned himself?” Eli asked.

Toomey shrugged. “I don’t think she cut him, for there’s no blood in the water. Looks like he slipped on a drop-off, but I can’t be sure.”

I stared at Toomey before turning to Eli. “What do we do now?”

He thought for a moment. “I should go to the picnic and take Miss Crenshaw aside. Explain to her in private. Then I expect I’ll have to go to the sheriff.”

I nodded slowly, allowing this to sink in. “I should return to the seminary to wait.” I glanced at my stepfather, whose face was blank with confusion. “And Toomey should come with me.”

“You said his name before. How do you know him?” Eli looked back and forth between us. “He called you Willemina, when you were … when you had the knife.…”

“I don’t remember that.” I shook my head, as though the motion might jog my memory. It only sharpened the pain at my temple. “Did I try to stab the doctor? The last thing I saw was him … holding me down, trying to drown me.” Tears burned my eyes as I turned to Eli. “And then
you
were pulling me out of the water.”

“You remember nothing else?” he asked. “How did you come to have the knife?”

“The knife?” The memory that came to me was hazy, as though dredged up from long ago. “I took it from the seminary kitchen. I hardly know why.”

“You were holding it to that man’s neck when we found you,” said Toomey.

I flinched, suddenly sickened. “I have no memory of doing it. I tried to use the knife at the school, but he just laughed at me.”

“You were so determined and fierce—I thought you would open that man’s throat.” Eli was quiet for a moment. Then he looked at me searchingly. “You spoke in an odd voice. The doctor was pleading with you.”

I swayed a little as a fog came over my brain. When Eli moved to cradle me, I remembered the face in the water—Death coming for me with a gentle smile. “I can’t explain it,” I whispered.

Toomey waved a hand at us, his brow furrowed. “What are you two talking about?”

“Toomey, I can’t believe you’re here. Why
now
?” I pulled away from Eli, who was staring intently at Toomey. “It’s all right,” I said gently. “He’s … my stepfather.”

Eli frowned. “On the stagecoach, he asked about a Miss Hammond.”

“It’s a long story,” I said quickly. “Too long to tell now. It simply must wait.”

He started to speak, to contradict me, but the look on my face made him pause. “Fine. You’ll explain it all later.”

“Right now we need to get our story straight.” I took a breath to steady my voice. “I found a letter from Ella in the doctor’s study. She was carrying his child, Eli! That’s why he killed her. But that letter is lost to the river along with his body.”

“What? Carrying whose child?” Toomey’s face was turning red with frustration.

“He was more of a devil than I thought,” Eli said, ignoring the question. “All we can do is tell the story as it happened. We heard him confess, didn’t we, Mr. Toomey? The doctor said he didn’t want to kill anyone, but he had to protect himself. He said he was sorry.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” Toomey growled, “but I still don’t—”

“And Olivia Adair saw the letter!” I gripped Eli’s arm tightly. “I also found a note from him to Ella—we can take that to the sheriff.”

“But we can’t tell him about the knife,” Eli said with a frown. “He’d never believe you overpowered the doctor.
I
still don’t believe it. We’ll just say you struggled, and the doctor went under the water at a drop-off.”

“How
did
she overpower that man?” Toomey shouted. “I wish I knew what the heck you two were talking about.” His face contorted in confusion and anger. “What sort of mess have you gotten yourself into, Willie? I find you about to stab a man in the river, and then you talk of murder and ladies with child and I don’t know what.”

“I realize you’re confused, Toomey.”
You always were slow
, I thought. “Just give us a minute to work this out and I’ll explain.”

As Toomey stared in disbelief, we rehearsed the story again. When satisfied, Eli stood and straightened his wet clothes. His hair was already drying in the sun. The rest of him would be nearly dry by the time he reached Miss Crenshaw and the other picnickers, for he had quite a walk ahead of him. I tried to smile encouragingly.

“Be strong,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you soon.”

I watched him walk away, keeping my eyes on him until he was lost among the trees. Once he was out of sight, I rose to my feet and shook out my sodden skirt and petticoats. I turned to my stepfather, suddenly irritated to see him sitting there with wet shirt clinging to his bulky torso.

“Toomey, why are you here?”

“You’d best not take that tone with me, young lady, after all the grief you’ve brought to your mother.”

I sighed. “Fine. Pray tell me why I have the pleasure of your company today.”

“You’re just like your father, you know? So full of yourself.”

“My father was a proud man,” I spat. “And I admired him for it.”

“No doubt you did. And just like him, you’re free with your words, but you won’t
listen
. I’m sorely tempted to take you to the sheriff myself and have him lock you up.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you how I got here,” he continued in a calmer tone. “I traveled in the coach with the young man. Mr. Sevenstar said he was going to the female seminary, so I followed along.” With great effort, he heaved himself to his feet. “I was coming to fetch you, Willemina. Never expected to find you standing in a river, about to stab a man.”

I rolled my eyes. “But
why
did you come? I told Mother to leave me be. How could you know I was at the school?”

“That, young lady, is an interesting story. I suppose you’ll be hearing it on the way home.”