Colorado Dawn (12 page)

Rex introduced everyone and directed them to the seats he’d reserved.

Mr. Standish had a firm handshake. “Good to meet you, David. Rex is treating you well, I hope?”

David forced himself to smile. “Better than I deserve, most likely. During this afternoon’s lesson, I was prepared to hurl a book across the room, but he talked me out of it.”

Standish steered him to a chair, talking all the while. “Ha, I can imagine. Do you know how many books I had to dodge when teaching Rex?”

David took the chair and eased himself into it. With half an ear he listened to Karen and Aimee chattering about dresses and the decorations. He tried to get a sense of the room, of the space, by listening. The ceiling must be high overhead, and he had a sense of space before him. Karen sat on one side, with Mr. Standish on the other.

“You’re in the front row, David.” Mr. Standish leaned in. “This room doubles as both dining room and assembly hall. With only two dozen students at the moment, there’s plenty of room to grow.”

With the way Standish could read people, he must be a good headmaster. David settled back and categorized the sounds and smells around him. Furniture polish, books, boiled potatoes, chalk, and soap. Laughter, conversation, the squeak of a chair as someone shifted his weight, a nervous giggle from a young person.

Rex’s voice came from in front and above him, on the stage. “Good evening and welcome. Thank you all for coming to our evening of recitation.”

The crowd stilled.

“Our first student tonight is Charles Barrow who will be reciting Psalm 139.”

Polite applause rippled through the crowd, and Karen tucked her hand into his.

She’d done that several times this evening, and he had to admit he liked it, even while he reproached himself for those feelings. Each crack he allowed in his armor would only mean more pain when she left him.

“ ‘O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known me.’ ”

The student must be about ten or so, his voice still pitched high. Had he been blind since birth? Would that be better or worse?

“ ‘I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.’ ”

Fearfully and wonderfully made? Maybe once upon a time, but now, ruined as he was, David couldn’t imagine those words pertaining to himself.

“ ‘Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.’ ”

David’s neck muscles tightened and his throat constricted. How long had it been since he felt God’s presence?

“ ‘If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.’ ”

The night shining as day? Dark and light might be the same to God, but everything was darkness to David now, as if he were imprisoned in the deepest mine shaft. God had stolen everything David treasured, then left him alone in the dark.

Karen’s hand moved in his. He loosened his grip, only now aware of how hard he’d been squeezing her fingers. She rubbed small circles on the back of his hand.

“ ‘Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.’ ”

David heard little of the rest of the recitations. His thoughts behaved like ball bearings dropped on a hard floor. He chased first one, then another, never able to line them up squarely.

What had gone wrong at the mine? What should he have done differently? Why had Karen married him when he was so obviously flawed? Would he ever master Braille, and what difference would it make if he did? Why was God so far away? Was his blindness a punishment from God for being so careless at the mine?

Not until Karen stirred beside him did he realize the program had ended. They filed out, her hand under his arm. He forced his face into a pleasant expression and let her steer him toward the side of the immense room.

She stood on tiptoe and whispered into his ear, “There’s a donation table by the door.” A tinge of doubt flavored her tone.

He pressed his lips together. Before leaving the town house he’d tucked his wallet into his inner coat pocket. Though it seemed strange, for now he couldn’t tell a five-dollar bill from a fifty. He withdrew the leather wallet and handed it to her. “There are blank checks in there. Write one out for a hundred dollars.”

“Thank you, David.”

He could hear the smile in her voice and warmth spread through him. “They deserve it. Rex has been very patient with me.”

The only awkward moment before their departure came when he had to sign the check. “They have a fountain pen. You’ll do fine.” She spread the slip for him and positioned his hand. “You’ve signed your name a thousand times.”

The pen scratched on the paper.

She picked the check up, and it rustled as she waved it to dry the ink. “Perfect.”

He declined the finger sandwiches and asked only for a half cup of punch to minimize what he could spill.

Karen stayed by his side, but he didn’t sense she was hovering or afraid to leave him alone. It seemed she took every opportunity to touch him, smoothing his lapel, taking his arm, letting her fingers brush his.

Almost before he was ready, they were back in the carriage headed home.

Karen yawned and laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for taking me out tonight. I had a wonderful time. You seemed to enjoy yourself. Did you have a good time?”

“I did.”

She laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can’t believe how much scripture those children had memorized. Did you have a favorite?”

“The first one, I suppose.”

“That was my favorite, too. Can you imagine? God knew everything about us before we were even born. There’s nowhere we can hide from Him and nowhere that His love can’t reach us.” She sighed and rubbed her cheek against his topcoat. “I find that very comforting, don’t you?”

What he found comforting was having her so close to him. In the close confines of the carriage, with the success of the evening behind them and with her head on his shoulder, he almost felt as if he were a whole man. The longings her touch had fired repeatedly throughout the evening overwhelmed him once more. He turned to her, took her face between his palms, and ran his thumb across her lips. Gardenias perfumed her hair, and the smooth, satin lining of her hood tickled the backs of his hands, reminding him of her thoughtful choice of wardrobe.

Her pulse thrummed along her neck, and her breath caught in a soft pant that made his heart thunder. Before he could stop himself, he lowered his lips to hers.

The kiss went straight to his head, familiar and unknown all at the same time. Softer than her velvet cloak, warmer than a fireside in winter, more comforting than an embrace, and more exciting than a runaway train. He was transported, carried out of his misery into a peaceful place where only they existed. He freed her lips and trailed feathery kisses along her jaw and temple, trying to catch his breath.

Then he opened his eyes, fully expecting to see her face, to see the love shining there.

Darkness.

Reality doused him like ice water. He eased back, swallowing, trying to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. His defenses had lowered for only a moment, and he’d been swept away. Doubts swamped him, and all the reasons he needed to keep her at arm’s length surged back.

“David?” She leaned into him again and cupped his cheek.

He captured her hand and set it in her lap. “No. No more. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know that I love you. I know that we’re married.” She cupped his cheek again.

He reached up and took her hand, placing it in her lap once more. “No, Karen.” He turned away from her and tried to gather his scattered wits. How would he survive when she left him? One kiss and he was undone.

T
he carriage lurched to a halt, and Karen wiped her damp cheeks, gathering her cloak around her.

David helped her descend from the carriage but released her hand quickly.

The clock in the parlor chimed as they entered.

Buckford held the door, taking their outer wraps as they shed them. His keen eyes searched her face, and she gave him a rather watery smile and a small shrug. He pursed his mouth and leveled a stare at David, shaking his head.

“Sir, you have a visitor in the parlor. She insisted on waiting, though I told her you’d be quite late.”

“A visitor? At this hour?” David stopped on the bottom stair, one hand on the newel post.

“A Mrs. Patrick Doolin. She said she’d come all the way from Martin City and had to see you tonight.”

David flinched. His shoulders slumped, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“David? Who is Mrs. Doolin? Do you know her?”

“We’ve met. Her husband used to work for Mackenzie Mining. He died in the cave-in.”

The breath Karen took skidded in her throat. Still rocking from his kiss and being pushed away, she had no strength left for a visitor, especially one with a grievance against the Mackenzies. But what else could they do? “Thank you, Buckford. David, let’s get this over with.”

Buckford had stirred up the fire, and a tea tray sat on a low table beside the woman. Dressed in black from head to foot, her brown hair streaked with gray, she had a careworn and lined face.

“Mrs. Doolin? I’m Karen Mackenzie. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” Karen held out her hand.

Like a bird, the woman hopped out of the chair and bobbed her head. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, barging in on you. I’ll be real quick-like and leave you in peace.” Her brogue was as thick as Irish stew. The woman’s black, lively eyes darted a look over Karen’s shoulder to David. “Mr. Mackenzie, ’tis me, Maggie Doolin.”

“Mrs. Doolin.” David inched forward until his hand brushed the edge of the desk. Deep lines formed on his forehead, the flickering firelight accenting the creases.

“Please, Mrs. Doolin, do sit down. What is it you’ve come to talk to my husband about?” Karen took the chair next to their visitor’s.

David leaned against the edge of the desk and crossed his arms as if bracing himself for a barrage.

The lines on Mrs. Doolin’s face spoke of years of hardship, but peace shone from her dark eyes. Her fingers kept up constant motion, picking at a thread, tapping her lap, never still. “I’m on me way back East, and I had something to say to my late husband’s boss. I should have come before, but I was making ready to return to me family. Me oldest boy lives in Boston. He’s asked me to come to him now that I’m alone.”

Karen leaned forward. “We’re so sorry for your loss.”

“Aye, lass, I know you are. ’Tis a terrible thing for the women, isn’t it, waiting to see if our men will come back out of the earth when they search for buried treasures? You haven’t escaped the sorrow yourself. I’m that sorry about Mr. Mackenzie’s eyes. My Paddy thought the world of Mr. Mackenzie, he did. And he was that proud of his dynamiting. An artist he was. The best powder monkey in the silver fields.” She dug a handkerchief out of her sleeve, using it to wipe the corners of her eyes. After a moment, she gathered herself. “ ’Twas about Paddy I’ve come, Mr. Mackenzie.”

David grimaced. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Doolin. I hope you can believe that. I have no excuses to offer. The structure I designed failed in some way. I know there’s no recompense I can make that will replace what you’ve lost, but I do hope you understand that you will be provided for. You’ve spoken to my father or brother?”

“Oh, now, don’tcha be worried, sir. I didn’t come to bother you. Paddy wouldn’t have blamed you, and neither do I. Your family’s been very generous. Your lady-mother herself came to see me. I’ve no quarrel with Mackenzie Mining. I came to tell you what Paddy said to me afore he died. He lingered two days after they dug him out of the rubble. The doc couldn’t do anything for his broken back, though ’twas God’s mercy my Paddy could feel no pain. When he knew he was dying, he held my hand that hard and made me promise on me mother’s grave I’d tell you his last words.”

David’s knuckles showed white.

Karen wanted to go to him, to put her arms around him and offer some comfort, but she couldn’t bear to be rebuffed in front of a guest.

“What is it your husband wanted to tell me?”

“Paddy was pretty far gone, so I don’t know if I heard him right, but he said, ‘Tell David about the coyotes. He’ll know what to do.’ I think he was out of his head.” She shrugged. “It didn’t seem important at the time, what with you being taken down in the same cave-in. I couldn’t be bothering you about wild beasts with you hurt in bed at the time.”

David rubbed his palms down his cheeks. “Were you having trouble with coyotes in the mining camp?”

“We had some trouble awhile back with a pack digging through the rubbish heap and killing some chickens, but Paddy took his rifle and cleared them out.”

“Has anyone else reported trouble?”

“Nay. Paddy said to tell you and no other. The poor man was agitated about it, mixing things up in his mind. No doubt he was thinking back to the bit o’ trouble with the pesky creatures and worried they might return. I don’t know why he wanted me to tell you, but he did, and I have.” She levered her hands on her knees and rose. “Me duty’s done with the telling. I’ll be heading to the rooming house. It’s getting terrible late, and me train leaves at seven.”

Karen walked the older woman to the door. “You’re sure you don’t need anything? You have enough money?”

“ ’Tis a good lady you are, Mrs. Mackenzie. I have more than enough. Your husband’s family has seen to that. I’ve plenty to get home on. I’ll be praying for you and the mister. Such a sorrow about his eyes, and him such a fine gentleman.”