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Authors: Kaki Warner

BOOK: Home by Morning
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Tait asked the man picking his teeth at the end of the table how construction was coming along.

“Stable's done,” Ethan Hardesty said. “The house is behind schedule because of the nursery modifications, but it should be ready when the Wallaces arrive this spring.” Beside him, his wife scribbled furiously in a small tablet.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Thomas!” Edwina's big smile reminded him of
Katse'e
, except Prudence's sister had all her teeth. “Maddie had her baby! We received a telegram from Ash's Boston bankers yesterday. A little baby earl.”

“Actually,” Josephine Jessup cut in, her clipped English accent an odd contrast to the lilting, southern tones of Edwina Brodie, “Donnan will be a viscount until his father passes and he inherits the title of Earl of Kirkwell.”

“Wait! Say that again.” Audra Hardesty flipped a page in her tablet. “I want to be sure to get it right for tomorrow's edition.”

While Josephine Jessup repeated her words for the newspaper lady, Lucinda crossed her arms over her bulging belly. “Well, I don't think it's at all fair. Her baby wasn't due until next week. And my Uthred is already eight days late.”

“Rothschild,” her husband corrected.

“Harold,” Ida Throckmorton snapped. “And it's highly improper to discuss such things in mixed company. They're men, for heaven's sake.”

It seemed no one considered the possibility that the babe would be a girl.

“I'll talk to Chick,” Declan Brodie said to Thomas. “He told me he's ready to come back to work at the ranch. With his peg leg, he was never that suited to the sheriff job, anyway. You interested in being the full-time sheriff, Thomas?”

Although he hated the idea of being trapped in town so much, Thomas had not minded his time as deputy. At least as sheriff, he would have no one ordering him around except
Katse'e.
“Will we be able to stay in the sheriff's house?”

Edwina shook her head. “We bought it from the bank for a
Sunday house so we'd have a place to stay when we came to town for shopping and visiting and church services. And it's good for Brin to be around other girls.”

“That hellion could use some mannering, too,” Ida Throckmorton muttered.

“You know,” Rayford Jessup cut in, “not that I don't think Thomas would make a suitable sheriff, but from what I remember from my days as a marshal, they're usually elected officials.”

“Not here,” Declan told him. “No one wants the job, so we have to appoint.”

“Take the Arlan place,” Ethan Hardesty suggested to Thomas. “Since Audra's father passed on, there's just the two of us.” He glanced at his wife, who quit scribbling to give him a sad smile. “We've been talking about moving to the new house we're building on the flats near the Wallace place. All the structural work is done. Only a matter of finishing up. We could move tomorrow.”

“Then it's settled.” Tait Rylander raised his whisky glass high. “A toast to old friends returned”—he nodded toward Thomas and Rayford Jessup—“and to friends newly arrived”—a smile for Josephine Jessup—“and to those yet to come”—a gentle pat on the belly of his wife. “May eighteen hundred seventy-two bring us all health, wealth, and happiness.”

A chorus of “cheers” went around the table. Thomas forced a smile. But they all knew what Tait Rylander had not mentioned in his toast. Those who were absent and not coming back.

WASHINGTON, D.C., JANUARY 1872

Pru was met by thunderous applause as she stepped away from the podium and back to Brother's side. Her proposal was a success. Even before her speech, there had been talk of forming a committee to further Negro education. Her work was done.

Yet it felt like a hollow victory. The weeks away from Thomas and Lillie had caused a rift in her heart and a shift in her mind. The dreams that had driven her for so long had faded.
Her priorities had changed. Now her every thought focused on getting back home to her family and friends. Thomas needed her. Lillie needed her. And she needed them even more. She felt as if she were missing a vital part of herself. The best part.

“Now for home,” she murmured to Brother as they left the meeting room through a side door.

Brother chuckled. “Me, too. My flock is liable to have flown without me there to keep them penned. If you'll be traveling through Indiana, we can go together.”

When they stepped into the hall, two men in dark suits by the exit door turned to watch them.

“I'd feel safer if we did.” Pru had never traveled alone before, and being a woman of color presented its own problems. “I need to stop in Indianapolis to see the judge and make sure the adoption was finalized.”

The men started toward them, their faces set in firm lines.

Instantly alert, Pru glanced about for another doorway out of the building. Her proposal might have gained followers, but there were still those resentful of Negroes upsetting the applecart with radical ideas. Significant change, she had realized, would be slow and arduous.

The men lengthened their strides. Wariness tightened Pru's chest.

She glanced at Brother to see him tracking their movements, too, a worried look on his face. She pointed to a side door. “Perhaps we should go out that way.”

He nodded and started to turn when one of the men called out, “Reverend Sampson? Mrs. Redstone?”

“Yes?” Brother stopped, his hand on her elbow pulling Pru close to his side. “I'm Reverend Sampson. And this is Mrs. Redstone. How can we help you?”

“You can turn around.” The closest man reached under his coat to retrieve something at his back. Pru saw what looked like a badge on his shirt, and her throat constricted.

“Stay behind me,” Brother muttered as the men continued toward them with determined strides. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice rising on a current of fear.

“U.S. Marshals.” The second man pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, spun Brother around, and snapped the manacles on his wrists.

“What are you doing?” Pru cried as the other man jerked her arms behind her. Cold metal closed around her wrists.

“You're both under arrest.”

“Why? What for?” Pru's legs threatened to give out as she and Brother were shoved roughly toward the exit.

“For the murder of Cyrus Marsh of Indiana.”

COLORADO TERRITORY

The morning after his and Lillian's arrival in Heartbreak Creek, Thomas ate breakfast with Declan Brodie at the hotel, while
Katse'e
knocked around the empty dining room hunting the hotel cat.

“Talked to Ethan Hardesty this morning,” Brodie said, jiggling his large baby on his knee while he fed him bites from his plate. “Said he and Audra would be out of the Arlan house by noon. Place is all yours.”

Before Thomas could respond, Edwina Brodie swept in and plunked a big basket on a table near theirs. “Where's Luce and Tait?”

“Lucinda's battling the heaves,” her husband said. “Tait's hiding from Mrs. Throckmorton. What's in the basket?”

“Nothing for you. Thomas, Audra said they were leaving behind the furniture Lucinda had donated after the hotel renovation. Apparently, Ethan's ordering all new. Has Whit eaten anything, Declan?”

“Most of my breakfast,” her husband complained.

“He's not getting that appetite from me. I'm Southern.”

“Southern people do not eat food?” Thomas asked.

“Not like that child does. I swear he's going to be a giant someday.”

He already was a giant.

“I spoke with the Abrahams.” Settling into the chair beside her husband, she took over the feeding of the baby giant. “They'd love to help with Lillie. In fact, they're already carrying things over to their old room at the Arlan place.”

Thomas knew Ethan Hardesty and Curtis Abraham well, but not their women. He could hardly keep up with all the people who had moved into Heartbreak Creek since he had first
come to the canyon. He did not know what brought them. Or understand why white people could not stay in one place but felt driven to move on, gobbling up whatever land they wanted, no matter who already lived there. They seemed to have no sense of tribe.

Yet he had noticed that once they came here to this little mountain town, they stayed. He had, too. Perhaps they were building a new tribe.

The Abrahams had come to Heartbreak Creek with Audra Pearsall and her sick father last year. But after the old man died and Ethan Hardesty took the Pearsall woman to wife, the black couple had moved into the carriage house behind the Brodies' Sunday house so they could help with the children when the family came to town. He hoped Declan Brodie was paying them well.

“It was a bit disconcerting, really,” Edwina Brodie went on, trying to wrest the spoon from her son's grip, “how the Abrahams dropped everything and ran to get their belongings. Almost as if they were glad to be leaving us.”

Thomas was not surprised. With Declan Brodie's three unruly sons and one daughter from his first marriage, and now this giant baby he had gotten on this new wife, they must have felt like a haunch of fresh venison in a cage of starving dogs. “I am glad for their help.”

They all flinched when a chair toppled. “Gotcha, kitty!” Lillian crowed.

Brodie reached for the last piece of toast. “Talked to Chick and the mayor about the sheriff job. Chick says he's tired of city living and wants to go back to chasing cows. Mayor Gebbers will meet you at the sheriff's office at three to give you the oath. You do know how to tell time, don't you, Thomas?”

“Three o'clock. The sun one hand-width past the tallest peak. I will be there.”

Brodie smirked. “That how you Indians tell time? What about cloudy days?”

“On cloudy days we kill rich white men and steal their watches.”

“Good luck finding an Indian smart enough to read a dial.”

“Or a white man rich enough to own one.”

“Hush, you two. You'll give Lillie the wrong idea.”

Thomas and Brodie looked at her.

“Law's sake. Everyone knows you men love each other like brothers. Give me the spoon, Whit.”

Brodie flushed. Thomas looked down at his plate. Real men did not admit to such feelings, even if it was true. Thomas rose. “
Katse'e
, get your coat
.

“What 'bout kitty?”

“The cat belongs here. Come.”

“Don't forget that.” Edwina pointed a jelly-smeared finger at the basket she had brought in earlier. “Just a few things to get you through the next few days. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Thomas needed little, but he was glad his friends were trying to make it easier for
Katse'e.
He hoped it would help her to put aside her anger. Then maybe he could put aside his.

“We'll come by tomorrow before we head back to the ranch,” Brodie said.

“I'll bring a kitten,” Edwina added. “The carriage house cat recently had a whole mess of them. Would you like that, Lillie?” she called over to
Katse'e.

“I jist loves kitties.”

As Thomas recalled, she thought cats were sneaky. But he said nothing. Picking up the basket, he nodded to the Brodies. “I am glad for your help.”

“What?” Brodie grinned at his wife. “Did he just thank us, Ed?”

Edwina Brodie laughed. “He did. England must have tamed him.”

Ignoring them, Thomas took
Katse'e
's hand and led her outside.

The day was clear and cold. A new layer of snow bowed the limbs of the firs along the creek and icicles hung from the edges of the roofs along the boardwalk. As soon as the sunshine touched his face, Thomas's spirits rose.

“I ain't no baby,” Lillian complained, before they had walked twenty steps. “I ain't deaf, neither. And I sure don't need no watchers.”

“You will stay in that big house all by yourself?”

“How big it is?”

“You will see.”

“How? I blind, 'member?”

His spirits fell. Thomas had hoped after the fuss everyone had made over her,
Katse'e
would have softened her heart toward him. But ever since he had come back without Prudence Lincoln she had clung to her grudge like a stone fly to a river rock—which fueled his own anger. He needed silence. Solitude. A place away from all the voices and questions and
Katse'e
's barbed words. Since they had left Indianapolis, he had not had a moment to think, or plan, or decide what to do.

It was an effort to keep his voice mild. “Because there are many rooms in this house, two other people will live there with us.”

“My watchers.”

“The Abrahams. They are old and kind and will keep you company while I earn money to take care of us. Their names are Winnie Abraham and Curtis Abraham, and they are black-skinned like you.”

She thought for a moment. “Miss Winnie cook good?”

He hoped so. “She will also plant a garden. You will help her with that.” Thomas guided her off the boardwalk and they continued along the road toward the edge of town.

“What the house like?”

Thomas saw it through the trees ahead. Already he felt the walls closing in.

“It is tall. Two floors. And it has a porch in front that will shade us from the summer sun. On the side of the house is an open place for a garden. Behind it is a creek, lined with tall cottonwood trees. When the snow melts, the creek will run high and fast below your window and sing you to sleep.”

“I gots my very own window?”

“And your own sleeping room on the top floor.”

For a moment she was too surprised to speak. Thomas enjoyed the quiet.

“What if Miss Minty scared?”

“I will get her a toy dog. Here are the stairs. Four steps up to the porch.”

She counted each step as he had taught her, and at the top, probed with her foot to make sure there were no more. “Maybe she want a real dog instead.”

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