Читать книгу The Surrogate Wife - Barbara Leigh - Страница 11

Much to Abbie’s disappointment the kittens proved to be too young to leave their mother, but the child was allowed to visit them often. She was returning from one of her little sojourns to the haymow when Ruth Somers stopped her.

“What are you doing out here alone?” the woman demanded. “Isn’t anyone around to take care of you?”

“I was up in the haymow playing with my kitten,” the little girl told her.

“Why wasn’t someone with you?” Ruth demanded.

Abbie backed away, anxious to be free of the woman’s persistent questioning. “Usually Meagan comes with me, but she’s churning right now.”

“Nonetheless, you shouldn’t go wandering about alone,” Ruth declared, not considering that her children ran wild from dawn to dusk, never answering to anyone for their whereabouts as long as they showed up at mealtime.

“I’ll have to speak to your father about this,” Ruth said. “Now run along and play.”

And Abbie was more than happy to do so as she turned and hurried toward the house.

Meagan was rinsing the wooden churn when Abbie came running toward her.

“How are the kittens?” Meagan asked the breathless girl.

“They’re fine, and Aunt Ruthie is here,” Abbie gasped.

Meagan straightened up and glanced toward the front of the house. A wagon stood at the hitching rail and the horse looked longingly toward the grass a short distance away. Ruth was nowhere in sight.

“Did Mrs. Somers go into the house?” Meagan asked as she wiped her hands on her apron and gathered up the bowl of butter and the pitcher of buttermilk.

“She said she was going to talk to Papa,” Abbie volunteered as she trailed behind Meagan toward the house.

“She’ll have a time finding him,” Meagan observed with some private satisfaction. “He’s gone down to check the animal pens by the creek.”

Abbie’s saucy smile told Meagan that the little girl didn’t like Ruth much more than Meagan did.

In all truth, Meagan was nervous over Ruth’s persistent visits. There was always the chance that the woman would tell Abbie the real reason Meagan was working for the Danielses, and Meagan could not bear to see the friendship and trust in the little girl’s eyes replaced by fear and loathing.

Meagan hadn’t had time to store the milk and butter when she saw Josh and Ruth coming toward the house.

Abbie rushed toward her father and was swept up in his arms.

“Look who’s come to see you.” He laughed as he acknowledged Ruth’s presence. “Your Aunt Ruthie is here.”

“I know,” Abbie said, burying her face in her father’s neck.

“Now don’t be so shy,” he urged. “You haven’t seen Aunt Ruthie for a long time.”

“Yes I have,” the little girl insisted. “I saw her when I came out of the barn. She said she wanted to talk to you and sent me to the house.”

Ruth laughed. “What an imagination that child has,” she asserted. “Why, I barely got here when I saw you go into the barn and went to meet you.”

“That’s not true,” Abbie protested. “You were here before Papa came back.” Suddenly the little girl looked stricken and began squirming in her father’s arms. “You didn’t hurt my kittens, did you? Let me down, Papa! I have to go see my kittens.”

Josh let the child drop to the ground and she ran off toward the barn before he could stop her.

“You see,” Ruth said, “the girl is completely out of control. Imagine living in fear that someone is going to harm a bunch of barn kittens. That’s what comes of allowing her to live in the same house as a murderess. You should let me take her home with me where she’d know she would be safe. If anything happens to that child there will be the devil to pay.”

Josh removed his wide-brimmed hat and replaced it on the back of his head. “It’s funny,” he said casually, “but Abbie never had any worries about the kittens before today. Could be she’s afraid you might want to take them home with you the same way you want to take her.”

Ruth drew herself up in outrage. “How dare you insinuate that I might have done something to disturb the child! I have nothing but her welfare at heart. And after the way she lied about seeing me…”

Meagan had heard most of the conversation and came forward. She didn’t understand Ruth’s intentions, but she certainly wasn’t going to allow the woman to drive a wedge between Abbie and her father. She smiled as she came toward them.

“Hello, Mrs. Somers. I see you found Josh. How lucky that he came back so early. I wanted to tell you that he had gone down to check the pens near the creek when Abbie told me you’d arrived, but you were nowhere in sight.”

Ruth was taken aback for a moment. Meagan was trying to ruin her credibility. Her mind worked desperately as she endeavored to think of some way to detract from Meagan’s tale.

Finally it came to her and she twisted her lips into a superior smile. “Of course I was nowhere in sight. If you didn’t see me it’s obvious I wasn’t here.” She turned to Josh. “This is ridiculous. Meagan is trying to cover up for Abbie’s lies. They’re conspiring together against you.”

Meagan spoke up before Josh had time to form an answer. “Well, maybe you weren’t here, Mrs. Somers,” Meagan admitted, “but your horse and wagon have been hitched to the rail ever since before I finished churning and that was quite a while ago.”

Ruth had forgotten about the horse, and the fact that it could be seen from the house.

“I can see that my presence isn’t appreciated here,” she fumed. “I just stopped by to see that Abbie was all right, not to be interrogated over the time of my arrival.”

“Now, Ruth,” Josh chided, “I’m sure you’re reading more into this than is necessary. You seem to be the one who is touchy about how long you’ve been here.” He was irritated that the woman had implied that Abbie lied. “If you don’t have time for a cup of tea I suppose you should be starting back home. Meagan and I have to get back to work.”

With a jerk of her head, Ruth marched to her wagon and, without a word of farewell, went on about her business, leaving Josh and Meagan to wonder as to the woman’s motives.

Meagan returned to the house and picked up the butter crock when Josh reached out and stopped her. As his hand touched her arm he felt the resilience of her flesh all the way to his toes.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming to Abbie’s defense,” he said, knowing it was only a half-truth.

Meagan had been real spunky when she stood up against Ruth in defense of his little girl, and he had wanted to whoop for joy. For once, someone besides himself had championed the child. Even Lily had seldom found a good word for their daughter. It had embarrassed the lovely Lily to have given birth to a child who was less than perfect. Making Abbie wear the bonnet was a constant reminder that there was something wrong with her appearance, and when the bonnet was removed Lily had found it almost impossible to look at her daughter.

And now Meagan had come along and seemed completely oblivious to the imperfection that set Abbie apart.

Meagan never accused Abbie of lying to draw attention to herself. And, to the best of his knowledge, Meagan never made fun of the girl because of the angle at which Abbie’s ears stuck out on each side of her head.

Josh wanted to do more than say thank-you to Meagan. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her how wonderful he thought she was, but he knew that was the last thing he dared do.

Meagan smiled at him somewhat hesitantly when he did not take his hand from her arm. He wanted to say something more, but he simply released her and stepped back.

“And Abbie thanks you too,” he said lamely, as Meagan, sensing potential danger, scurried out the door.

It was almost dark when Josh saw Meagan again. By that time he had gotten a rein on his emotions and greeted her in an offhanded manner as she entered the barn.

Abbie darted past her and ran to the stanchion where Josh was milking the cow.

“Squirt me some milk,” the little girl demanded, and her father laughingly aimed the udder toward her opened mouth. The first stream of milk missed and splashed against Abbie’s cheek and onto her bonnet. She shrieked with delight as the second hit her open mouth.

“Sorry about getting milk on her bonnet,” Josh called over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Meagan answered laughing. “Bonnets will wash.”

The cow lowed restlessly. Josh checked the trough and asked, “Meagan, will you go up in the mow and toss down some hay?”

“I’ll go first and make sure the kittens aren’t in the way,” Abbie volunteered as she whisked up the slat ladder and disappeared into the loft.

“Hurry, hurry,” Meagan urged. “I’m right behind you.”

Abbie’s delighted giggles were punctuated by a gasp and the clap of one piece of wood striking another. Josh turned from his milking to see Meagan tumble to the ground.

Exasperated at having her milking turned into a circus, the cow kicked the bucket the moment Josh let go of her udder.

Meagan groaned as she tried to catch her breath while Abbie’s anxious little face peered from the top of the ladder.

Josh knelt down beside Meagan and lifted her into his arms. “There, there, now. Take it easy. It’s going to be all right. Are you hurt? Do you think you busted anything?”

Meagan’s head was spinning but she wasn’t certain whether it was because of the fall or the touch of Josh’s hands as he ran them along her body searching for broken bones. Had she been alone she would probably have climbed to her feet and waited until the pain in her hip and the dizziness subsided, but with Josh cradling her against his body she lost any desire to move.

She opened her eyes and waited until she was able to focus on the thick blond hair and strong features so unbearably close to her.

She nestled her head against his shoulder as he brushed back the hair that had fallen over her face.

“What happened, Papa?” Abbie demanded from her perch. “How did Meagan fall off the ladder?”

Josh looked up. One of the wooden slats that served as a rung swung free on one end. “I guess one of the slats came loose.” Josh barely glanced at the ladder, for his full attention was on Meagan, who was still trying to catch her breath.

“Are you hurt?” he asked again. “Do you have pain anywhere?”

“No,” she managed. “Nothing like that. Just knocked the wind out of me. Is Abbie all right?”

“She’s up there.” Josh indicated the cavernous hole above their heads without taking his eyes from the woman in his arms. “Looks like you cracked your head real good.” He brushed his hand over her forehead, gingerly touching the rising lump.

“Papa! Lift me down!” Abbie demanded. “I’ll go get some cold water for Meagan’s head.” The little girl’s perception amazed her father.

Reluctantly, he released Meagan and held his arms up to his daughter. It was while he stood in this position that he saw the fresh marks against the aging wood. He put the little girl on the ground and turned back to the ladder.

“You haven’t been trying to repair this ladder, have you?” he asked.

“I didn’t realize there was anything wrong with it.” Meagan struggled to a sitting position and attempted to get to her feet.

“There probably wasn’t anything wrong until the nails came out.” He bent down and ran his hands through the straw on the floor of the barn. Nails were hard to come by and he wanted to find them if possible.

“What made you think I was tinkering with it?” Meagan asked.

“Marks here along the edge of this board.” He pointed to the fresh gouges. “Looks like somebody was either trying to put it up, or take it down.”

“Abbie runs up and down that ladder all the time and she’s had no trouble,” Meagan pointed out.

“Abbie weighs next to nothing, but once either you or I hit that step we were going to take a fall.”

“But how could something like that happen without either of us noticing?” Meagan wondered aloud.

“Maybe it just happened today,” Josh said thoughtfully as his eyes met Meagan’s in concerned contemplation.

Meagan’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t think Ruth could have gone up into the loft to look for you and knocked it loose, do you?”

“Something like that could have happened,” Josh said noncommittally. “Now let’s get you back to the house so I can clean up this mess.”

Meagan looked beyond Josh and realized the fruit of the days’ milking was spilled across the floor. She pulled herself to her feet, her head spinning. “Oh, Josh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should have been more careful.”

“Don’t let it fuss you,” he said reassuringly. “I’ll take care of it. You go back to the house. I’ll make sure there aren’t any more unpleasant surprises before I come in and we’ll try to sort this whole thing out later.”

Abbie came across the barnyard, a dripping wet dishcloth trailing behind her like a banner. “I got it!” she hollered. “A nice cold cloth for Meagan’s head.”

The child was somewhat taken aback when she realized her potential patient was already on her feet, but she thrust the cloth into Meagan’s hand and smiled proudly at her achievement.

Meagan wrung out the cloth and pressed it against the lump. “Thank you, Abbie. That feels much better. Now if you’ll just help me back to the house, I think I’ll sit a while before I put supper on the table.”

Abbie would have preferred to stay in the barn with her father, Meagan knew, but the little girl made no argument. If there were other accidents waiting to happen, Meagan and Josh wanted to be certain Abbie was not the next unsuspecting victim.

There was nothing else that posed a threat, and life returned to normal. As normal as life could be for a man and a woman who were trying to hide their attraction from each other, as well as from themselves. With the approach of the harvest they worked from sunup to sundown.

Abbie stayed on the edge of the fields playing with her kitten. Buttermilk was a fat, yellow feline, lazy beyond belief, who didn’t care what position he was in as long as he was cherished and fed. Abbie dressed the little animal in doll clothes and carried him in a basket, feeding him a continual bounty of tidbits she had brought for his gratification.

Because the little cat occupied Abbie so completely, Meagan and Josh were able to accomplish a great amount of work and by the end of the week Josh felt he could take time to go hunting to fill the larder.

“I could butcher a pig,” he told Meagan, “but I’d rather wait until the cold weather sets in. There’s plenty of game out there and thanks to you and that lazy cat of Abbie’s I have the time.”

He left early the next morning, promising to be back by nightfall.

Meagan and Abbie listened throughout the day, occasionally catching the echo of a shot from his gun. Meagan put dinner on the table and saw to it that Abbie ate a healthy portion. She stored the rest on the back of the fire for Josh.

The days were growing short, and Meagan reminded herself of that fact as she got Abbie ready for bed. Once the child was settled, Meagan sat on the dogtrot in the warm summer night and watched the shadows chase the moonlight across the yard.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance. Instantly alert, Meagan watched for Josh’s familiar figure to come through the trees.

The smile on her face froze, and the greeting in her throat was silenced when she realized the figure that emerged from the woods was not Josh Daniels, but an Indian.

She jumped to her feet and was about to run into the house when a familiar voice called out, “Meagan? Meagan? Is that you?”

In the next moment she was across the yard, hurling herself into the arms of her younger brother.

“What in the devil are you doing way out here?” he asked as he tried to embrace her and get a look at her at the same time.

“Oh, Reilly, how I’ve hoped you’d find me.” The tears ran down her cheeks and she was on the verge of blubbering.

He jerked the scarf from around his head and wiped her cheeks, then he thrust it in her hand. “Blow your nose and tell me what happened.”

Meagan did as she was told. “How much do you know?” she asked.

“I heard that a white woman was found guilty of murder and made a slave of the man whose wife she supposedly killed. I never thought it might be you.” He hesitated and looked through the moonlight into her eyes. “It is you, isn’t it, Meagan?”

“Yes, it’s me.” She sighed.

“Tell me—” he ordered “—all of it.”

“After you left I heard of a possible position with the Somers family. The woman said if I pleased her she would hire me to teach her children and help with the housework. I was carrying some supplies to her kitchen when I heard a scream and a thumping sound. I ran into the parlor and found a lady lying at the foot of the stairs. As I bent over the body to try to help the woman, Ruth Somers started screaming that I’d killed her friend. She said I had pushed her down the stairs. Reilly, I’d never even been upstairs, but it was Ruth Somers’s word against mine and no one believed me.

“The jury found me guilty, but asked for mercy because there was no evidence, and no motive. Just Ruth’s testimony that I’d pushed Lily Daniels down the stairs.”

There was a moment of silence, then Reilly urged, “And…”

“There is no prison for women in the Carolinas, and rather than—” she swallowed once before forcing out the word “—hang me, the judge sentenced me to work for Josh Daniels, the dead woman’s husband.”

“And…” Reilly prompted.

“I tried to get away. To find you, somehow. Josh caught me and brought me here. I think he would have let me go had it not been for the threats of the judge.”

“So you live with him and take his wife’s place, is that it?” The anger built in Reilly’s voice.

“I take care of Abbie, Josh’s little girl, and I help with the chores and the housework.” She swallowed again, realizing the core of her brother’s concern. “I don’t share Josh’s bed,” she finished weakly.

“Of your choice, or his?” Reilly persisted. The whole situation regarding his sister was so bizarre he couldn’t believe it had happened.

“Judge Osborne said that if I did anything more than work for Josh the original sentence would be carried out. I would hang and Josh would be jailed for contempt of court.”

Meagan watched as her brother’s already swarthy face grew dark with anger. “I’m beginning to understand why the Indians delight in taking the scalps of white men,” he growled. “Where is this bereaved widower now? Why isn’t he here protecting his property?”

“Josh went hunting. He should be coming back any time now.”

Reilly’s eyes scanned the shadows. “Get your things, Meagan. Come with me, now.”

“I can’t leave Abbie here alone. She’s just a little girl.”

Reilly grabbed his sister’s arms, squeezing them firmly as he gave her a little shake. “Listen to me, Meagan. I’m on my way to a powwow. Old Howling Dog wants the white man out of these mountains. Many of the Indians are joining him. There’s going to be trouble come spring. If you won’t go with me now, be ready to leave when I come back through here or it won’t matter what the judge said. When Old Howling Dog goes on the warpath, no one is going to be spared.”

“But shouldn’t you tell someone, Reilly? Think of all the people who will be killed.”

“I can’t tell what I don’t know. The white man doesn’t believe half-breeds. I must have proof. That’s why I’m going. If you can hold your jailer at bay until I get back I’ll take you to my mother’s people. They live at peace with the white man. You would be made welcome there until we can find some way to prove your innocence, or change the judge’s mind.” Reilly touched the hilt of his knife as he made his statement concerning the judge’s mind and Meagan gave a little gasp.

Reilly had a ruthless streak in him that their father had spent his life trying to eradicate. It seemed the old man hadn’t been successful.

“You don’t understand,” Meagan told him. “If I leave here they will hunt me down like an animal. They’ll hang me, and most likely you too, if you help me escape.”

“You don’t understand, sister,” Reilly said with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t intend to be caught.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts,’” he said. “Be ready to leave when I return. There won’t be much time. If for some reason the attacks start before I can reach you, go to the fort. I will find you. I will not allow my sister to live out her life as a white man’s slave.”

“Reilly, I can’t leave Abbie. She’s not like other children. She needs…”

She got no further, for Abbie’s sleepy voice called out, “Meagan? Who are you talking to? Is that my papa?” Abbie wandered toward the door. Her bonnet had slipped from her head and hung down her back and her ears stood out like small white saucers on either side of her face.