The Wedding Kiss Page 19

  To be kissed like that, Keara might resort to a little teasing herself. She grinned at her own thoughts then sighed. No time to dwell on something that wouldn’t happen.

  She continued her study of the windows and doors. The windows couldn’t keep a determined man out of the house, but any sound of breaking glass would alert her. She didn’t believe the marshal would show up tonight. Elam read people well, and he would not have left her here alone with an injured woman and his three children if he’d thought there would be any danger tonight—despite the fact that he knew Keara could pick off a mess of squirrels from a tree at the far ridge and have them cleaned and cooked for supper. Still, she did not intend to be caught unprepared.

  She took a cup of warm tea and another dish of bread pudding up the stairs to Susanna, where she’d left a lantern glowing on the dresser.

  Susanna was awake when Keara entered the sickroom, which had begun to smell exactly like what it was.

  “How are you feeling?” Keara asked.

  “I’m not hurting too badly now.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.” Keara settled into her usual perch on the side of the bed and placed the dish in Susanna’s hand, enjoying the way her patient’s eyes lit up at the sight of the pudding. “Tomorrow, if you’re still feeling better, I’ll run you a bath and wash that hair.”

  “Are you saying I smell?” Susanna teased as she set the dish on the bed beside her and raised the spoon.

  “You smell like willow bark and sassafras tea with a hint of bread pudding.” The true test of a lady was that she made her guests feel at ease at all times—not remarking on appearance or other…unpleasant effects of illness.

  “No whiskey?” Susanna asked, nodding toward the cup.

  “This should do you fine. I’ve added some chamomile and mint, with a little valerian root. It should help you sleep through the night. You know,” Keara said as Susanna took a bite of pudding, “as much as we’ve argued over proper medical treatments, you’ve not suggested anything from your bag to ease your pain.”

  “I didn’t have anything that would work. I did have some laudanum, but I used that on my way here when I happened on a couple of people who were in dire pain.”

  “You stopped to treat patients on the way?”

  Susanna took another bite of pudding. “I’m a doctor.”

  “That you are, obviously.” What an admirable trait in a woman who was running for her very freedom, possibly her life. Keara studied Susanna’s face. “Though you have black hair, your eyes are as blue as a summer sky, like Gloria’s were. She never told me she was part Cherokee. I never would have guessed.”

  “I’m also a descendant of Italians from the north of Italy, remember, and they were fair-haired with light eyes. My mother came from Switzerland. And you?”

  “With a name like Keara McBride, what do you think?”

  “Yes, I believe I picked up on a bit of the Irish accent when your father spoke to you today, and I’ve noticed a touch of the Ire in you a time or two.”

  “I tend to speak my mind when needed,” Keara said with a grin. She’d surprised herself with her forwardness with a woman of such knowledge and experience. But for the most part, Susanna had been a patient in need. The kind of patient who needed boldness.

  “I saw some powders and a vial of liquid with strange markings on them in your bags,” Keara said. “Is there nothing there that could help you with the fever or pain?”

  “No, I’m ashamed to say. The vial of liquid is for toothache, something Nathaniel and I found in India when we traveled overseas. The powders are for other ailments, also from overseas. I was in such a hurry to leave, I just grabbed what was closest and tossed them and some utensils into my saddlebags. I have double the utensils I need, very little of the medicines.”

  “Why were you in such a hurry? Had you heard that Frey was after you?”

  Susanna took the final bite of her pudding and handed the dish and spoon to Keara. “Thank you. That was perfect. I’ll take my medicine now.”

  Keara handed her the teacup.

  “My head’s been clearing, and I’ve remembered more.” Susanna took a sip of the tea. “About a week before Nathaniel was killed, he told me that if anything happened to him, I was not to remain in town. He wanted me out of Pennsylvania. It wasn’t until after he was shot that I realized how dangerous it had been for him to enter the political arena.”

  “That’s why you left in such a hurry?”

  “That’s why I closed the office. I didn’t leave until I discovered I was about to be arrested by the local sheriff for the murder of my husband, even though he considered it an accident at first.”

  Keara was outraged for Susanna’s sake. How could such malevolence exist? “How did you know he had changed his mind?”

  “I have a lot of friends in Blackmoor.” Susanna closed her eyes. “Nathaniel and I also had enemies in high places because we treated anyone who came through our door, outlaws and law-abiding citizens alike. Our sheriff didn’t appreciate that much. After Nathaniel’s funeral, the wife of one of his deputies—who believes I saved her life through two difficult deliveries—warned me the sheriff was seeking out witnesses who would testify against me.”

  “They would have to be liars, of course.”

  Susanna gave Keara a grateful smile. “No wonder my sister loved you so.”

  Keara allowed those words to settle like a balm over her heart. It was more than enough thanks for her efforts to aid such a strong-willed patient. “Do you think the sheriff might have been a part of the political faction that hates the Cherokee people?”

  Susanna leaned forward and put the teacup to her lips again. “I think he’s a bit of a bully who likes to use his power, but I don’t think he’s the kind of man to be concerned about what takes place beyond his reach.”

  “So there were two sources of wickedness, not just one,” Keara said. “Not only were evil politicians out to take more Cherokee land, but the sheriff of Blackmoor used his power to intimidate you.”

  “You’d make a good statesman. Good insight into the vastness of human corruption,” Susanna said. “You know, I’m beginning to like the taste of this brew.”

  “Sweetened with honey from bees who like to visit the orchard every spring. Are you feeling sleepy already? I can leave you in peace.”

  Susanna shook her head. “I’m sure it will help eventually, but would you stay and talk to me for a few moments? I feel as if my mind is beginning to focus again. I want to find out for sure.”

  “Okay, then, why don’t we talk about how far-reaching this political splinter group could be?” Keara asked.

  Susanna finished the tea in a big gulp and handed it to Keara then lay back with a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” The skin beneath her eyes attested to her weariness, to long days of travel by horseback and long nights of sleeping on the hard ground, of the constant fear of being arrested or killed. Grief still held her in its hold. And now, the lingering pain of a gunshot wound.

  “I’m afraid to guess, Keara,” she said at last. “It’s something I’ve thought about until I’m sickened by my feeling of helplessness. There is so much beyond my control because I don’t know the extent of the danger, or the people involved.”

  “There are a lot of things beyond our control, but I believe nothing is beyond God’s control.” Keara placed the cup on the dresser and lowered the lantern light. “Could it be that you were brought here just for this purpose?” she asked softly.

  “I wasn’t brought here, I came here of my own accord to escape unjust lawmen, and possibly, in the back of my mind, I had thought to ride into the Oklahoma territory and warn my kinsmen to beware.”

  “The Cherokee live only past the Arkansas border, maybe two or three days of hard riding. Much less by train. Could God be using you to help save them from annihilation? They won’t have the protection they would have if Oklahoma were a state.”

  “How could I be used to serve a god I don’t even
believe in?”

  “I might be wrong, but if I read my Bible correctly, I don’t think He needs you to believe in Him in order to work through you.”

  Susanna turned her head as if to get a better look at Keara’s face. “You talk so much about God. You and Elam are strong, independent people. Why do you feel you must have God to direct your lives?”

  “You’re a strong and independent person, but look at you now. You need us. You need help. None of us is completely independent.”

  Susanna looked away. “I don’t think I’m up for a debate about the reality of God tonight.”

  “If Marshal Frey is a part of this political faction out to destroy the Cherokee, and if the sheriff of your town isn’t connected to them, then wickedness has already begun to undermine itself. I believe God will prevail.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “One wicked man frightened you into escaping here to us, and that sudden flight may have kept another wicked man from killing you. By coming here and warning us, you may have done the most you could possibly do to save hundreds of people. Maybe thousands.”

  “How?”

  “Elam won’t give up until he’s done everything he knows to do to stop the marshal—and he has a lot of good friends and family. My pa, when he’s in his right mind and not sloppy drunk on his whiskey, is a force to be reckoned with. Together, they can be fearsome foes because of the number of loyal friends they have in this area.”

  “We haven’t seen the ending to this drama yet. We may all die and the wickedness may grow.” Susanna’s voice had grown weary, and her despair touched Keara.

  “Anything could happen,” Keara said, gently touching Susanna’s arm. “But it doesn’t seem so dark to me. The only way we could have discovered this danger was through you, someone whose motives are strong and pure. It simply feels to me as if God has a hand in this, and when He does, it’s a righteous cause, and one that will not be stopped.”

  Susanna blinked slowly, as if the tea was beginning to affect her the littlest bit. “I believe you’re a force to be reckoned with yourself, Keara Jensen. It’s no wonder Elam looks at you the way he does.”

  “He looks at me as a friend.”

  “You would make a stalwart friend.” Susanna studied Keara for a long moment. The window rattled. The wind had begun to pick up outside, and Keara glanced into the darkness, wondering about Elam.

  Twenty

  A branch slapped Elam in the forehead and he ducked as Lass carried him beneath still more low limbs. This ride home wasn’t nearly so smooth as the ride to town, even though he’d tried to remain on the road for the most part.

  Barely a mile from home, however, he’d heard voices and seen shadows ahead of him. He was glad Lass didn’t have Duchess’s tendency to whinny at the sight of other horses or people.

  Another branch raked at his arm, but he ignored it as the two riders ahead of him left the road and entered the woods in the direction of the river. He knew that the cattle trail through those woods led to the McBride farm. Were Rod Snyder and a friend returning from a trip to the saloon in town?

  Elam scowled. Had Snyder cheated someone else out of their home tonight?

  He halted Lass and slid from her back. Despite her ugly tendency to lower her head and try to brush her rider from her back beneath the trees, she was a good riding horse. Unfortunately, she was about as noisy as a rooting hog.

  He tied her loosely to a tree and continued following the men through the woods on foot. If they reached the McBride place and kept going, he would turn back. But if one of those men was Rod Snyder, Elam wanted all the information he could get on the man. He intended to find a way to get Brute’s home back to him.

  Though the moon was nearly full, the shadow of the woods made it hard to remain quietly on the trail, but it also slowed the horses in front of him. He was able to catch up enough to overhear a few words here and there. Nothing made much sense.

  “…tired of waiting around. Why can’t we get on with this…”

  “…fortune involved. We can’t afford to be impatient…”

  A branch cracked beneath Elam’s foot. He froze, but the men ahead of him kept going and kept talking. He reached a clearing where the moon lit the trail, and he rushed forward, chancing discovery, in order to hear more.

  “…wife to get home to. Can’t understand why he chose Eureka Springs, in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Don’t forget the best source is there. And visitors come and go there all the time. We’re less likely to be noticed in a tourist town.”

  Elam reentered the shadows and had to slow, but he was close enough to hear the men more clearly. What kind of source were they talking about? The only thing that was sourced in Eureka Springs was the water, wasn’t it?

  “I only hope someone beat up Carl Lindstrom for inviting that Skerit kid in the first place. He could’ve blown this thing to kingdom come.”

  “Well, he didn’t, so calm down. We’re earning our keep.”

  A dog barked in the distance, and Elam hesitated.

  “Good thing Lindstrom knows folks around these parts,” one of the men said, his voice more difficult to hear as he moved away.

  A dog. Elam couldn’t risk following farther and letting the animal catch his scent, though he wanted to know more about Carl Lindstrom’s activities. He needed to get home to his family.

  But the mention of Lindstrom’s name bothered him a lot. The man’s younger sister, Cynthia, might know something about her brother’s activities. The woman’s tongue was vicious and her influence on young Raylene Harper troublesome. Perhaps she’d said something to Raylene. Or possibly Delmar. He had danced with Cynthia on Monday night.

  Elam would have to catch Jael and Kellen in the morning before they set out to spread word to the neighbors. He had more to share. Perhaps Delmar could have a talk with Raylene.

  Susanna continued to nod off, but she seemed reluctant to let Keara leave. She reminded Keara a little of Rolfe after his mother died. He’d been afraid of the dark for months.

  “I was not raised in a religious family,” Susanna said, “but you say my sister became a believer?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to debate the existence of God.”

  “I only want to hear more about my sister. As I mentioned to you, I did notice a change in her letters a few years ago. She grew up. Accepted her fate.” Susanna raised her eyebrows at Keara. “Not that marriage to Elam would be a horrible fate. Indeed not.”

  “She was always bright and funny,” Keara said, “with a quick retort to any comment. I enjoyed her company, even though I sometimes sensed a brittle bitterness in her. She resented the fact that you were taken to your aunt and she was not. She felt you were stolen from her.”

  “Sometimes we exchanged some hard words with each other in our letters.”

  “But then she changed,” Keara said. “Elam came from a family of strong Christians, and I think they were concerned when he married someone who didn’t share his faith.”

  Susanna’s eyes narrowed. “Did they feel she wasn’t good enough for him?”

  “Not at all. They simply knew how important it is for people of faith to share that faith with their spouses, because living by faith is such a different way of life. There can be a lot of conflict in a marriage when one spouse doesn’t understand.”

  Susanna appeared somewhat mollified. “Well. I think Elam is the kind of man who sees the potential in people.”

  “Everyone in the hollow saw that he was madly in love with Gloria from the moment he brought her home from Pennsylvania, and that love affected her. She never lost her sense of fun, but she grew gentler.”

  “Motherhood could have done that.”

  “I wasn’t a mother, but she and Elam had an impact on my life as well. I finally saw what I was meant to be. My parents had grown up believing that there was a God, and they attended church, but I think our jaunts to church were more for social connection than for connection with God. W
hen I saw the change that took place in Gloria, I discovered that I wanted the same faith she had discovered—an abiding faith that God is in control and will guide us if we ask.”

  Susanna nodded, her blue eyes losing some of their luster as drowsiness continued to affect her. “You have a strength about you…your Irish family must have encountered a bit of trouble with prejudice.”

  Keara recognized Susanna’s need for another change of subject. “Lots of Irish and Scots here. My ancestry isn’t why some disapprove.”

  “Folks were uncomfortable because you and Elam married so quickly?”

  Keara shrugged. “Some ignorant folk still think a woman who makes teas and potions for healing is a witch, not a lady. I don’t always behave the way they believe ladies should behave. I’m from the backwoods, never got out much, and I worked with Elam in the corral.” Keara shook her head. She didn’t know why she was telling these things to a person who might hold some of the same things against her.

  “We’re not so different underneath,” Susanna said, as if she could read Keara’s mind. “I understand that you’ve taught Gloria’s children well over the winter months. You have a good grasp of the essentials.”

  “I read. I love numbers. I went to school as long as I could, but with only two brothers to help with chores and all the planting and harvesting to be done, I was needed at home. It’s the normal life on a farm, though I guess you remember some of that yourself.”

  “That I do, but I had plenty of siblings to share the work.”

  “And I didn’t. When Ma was paralyzed there was no time for anything else.”

  “Were you the only one who could see to her needs?”

  “I was the only girl.”

  “I can understand a woman being desperate for the help of her only daughter, but my friend, I think your mother may have been afraid to lose her caretaker to a husband and family.”

  Keara felt herself stiffen. She’d loved her mother dearly. No one had a right to speak of her like this. “I stayed and cared for my mother of my own accord. I wasn’t right for marriage anyway. I wasn’t built for childbearing.”