Margaret Brownley (36 page)

His face turned another shade redder. “That opened up my eyes and I started watching her. Did you know that she has the prettiest smile?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the earnest look on his face. “Why, yes, I do believe I noticed.”

“And did you know that Emma is the one who places those red, white, and blue bouquets of flowers on the graves of soldiers on Decoration Day?”

“I did know that,” Lucy said.

“And do you know why she does that?” he asked.

“Her fiancé was killed during the war.”

Redd’s forehead crinkled. “You knew she had a fiancé and didn’t tell me?”

“I thought everyone knew,” Lucy said defensively.

“I didn’t,” he said. “I didn’t know anything about her until after I saw that photograph with the—”

“Chemise,” she said, when he appeared to be struggling with the word.

“If it hadn’t been for that photograph, I would never have known Emma’s true nature.”

Lucy couldn’t believe what he was saying. “But you’re a member of The Society for the Protection and Preservation of Male Independence. What about the pledge you took to remain single?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. But when you compare members with married men, it just seems that the married men look less miserable.”

“Hmm.” First Timber Joe, now Redd. She shuddered to think what Old Man Appleby would say about losing yet another one of his members.

“Redd, you’ve got to talk to her. Tell her how you feel. It’s the only way.”

“She won’t listen. She won’t even look at me.” He grabbed hold of Lucy’s arm. “I’ve got to do something but I don’t know what. Maybe if you take a photograph of me with something . . . I don’t know . . . crazy on my head. Maybe she’ll change her mind about me.”

“I’m not sure that will work,” she said with a quick glance down the road. A male garment wouldn’t have the same impact as a woman’s. Even if it did, she was done taking photographs. Her camera had caused enough heartbreak. Not to mention it was lying somewhere on the side of the road.

Redd groaned. “There’s gotta be something I can do. Think.”

“I
am
thinking.” She clasped her hands together. Still in shock from all that had occurred earlier, she was hard-pressed to come up with any good ideas. “You’ve got to make her listen to you. Sweep her off her feet.”

Redd’s mustache twitched. “Sweep her off her feet?” He bolted upright. A slow smile inched across his face. “Sweep her off her feet! That’s it.” He pushed himself off the ground and, without brushing himself off, ran down the road, calling to his horse.

Moments later Lucy pulled up to the front of her house and was surprised to find Monica waiting on her doorstep. It was obvious by her red eyes that she had been crying.

“Monica, what’s wrong?” Lucy asked in alarm.

Monica burst into fresh tears.

Lucy quickly ushered her into the house and made her sit down.

“Le . . . Le . . . Leonard broke our engagement,” she sobbed.

“Oh no!” Lucy placed a hand on Monica’s back. “But why?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.” Monica regarded her with tear-filled eyes. “Oh, Lucy, do you suppose there’s someone else?”

Lucy shook her head. “No, of course not.”

“How . . . how can you be so certain?”

“I just know.” Lucy reached into the pocket of her skirt and handed Monica a linen handkerchief.

“What other reason could there be?” Monica asked, dabbing at her eyes.

Lucy’s mind raced. How much or how little should she say?

“Lucy Fairbanks, you know something. I know you do. I can tell by your expression.”

“All right.” She never was good at keeping her thoughts to herself. She wrung her hands together on her lap. “I’m almost positive the reason Doc Myers broke up with you is because of David.”

Monica’s eyes widened. “The man I saw you kissing the night the church burned down?” She drew her eyebrows together. “But . . . I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story,” Lucy said. “Twenty years ago when David was ten years old and living at the mission, he decided to run away and . . .”

The whole time she talked, Monica remained motionless.

“Had he not been rescued he might have drowned or at the very least been seriously injured.”

“That’s terrible,” Monica said after Lucy had explained everything that happened that night at the river. “But what has this got to do with Leonard and me?”

Lucy clasped her hands on her lap. This was the hard part. “The youths who put him on the boat. One of them . . .” Her voice grew husky. “One of them was Doc Myers.”

Monica jumped to her feet so abruptly that Extra scooted underneath a chair for cover. “I don’t believe it. Not for a second.”

“And my father.”

“I . . . I know Leonard,” Monica gasped. “I know your father. They would never—”

“I didn’t want to believe it at first either,” Lucy said. “And after what happened to Barnes—”

“Barnes?”

“He was one of the four. We think his disappearance had something to do with what happened all those years ago. That’s why Barnes went to see Doc Myers that night.”

Monica’s eyes widened. “If this is true, why didn’t Leonard tell me this himself?”

“Maybe he was afraid you would leave him, like his—” She stopped abruptly.

The lines between Monica’s eyebrows deepened. “You were going to say his wife, weren’t you?”

Lucy took a ragged breath. “It’s possible that she found out what he did. Maybe that’s why she left him.”

Monica sat down slowly, her back ramrod straight. For several moments she didn’t speak. Then, “How long have you known about this?”

“Not long. A few days.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Her voice was rife with accusations.

“It wasn’t my place,” Lucy said. “It was Doc Myers’s place to tell you. Monica, what happened to David as a boy . . . no one meant to harm him. I really do believe that and I hope you do too.”

Instead of answering her, Monica jumped to her feet again and raced out of the house.

“Wait!” Lucy chased after her, but Monica was already in her shay, reins in hand, by the time she reached her.

“They were young and foolish, but they didn’t mean to harm David,” Lucy pleaded. “It was a horrible accident. They thought he was dead. That’s what they’ve lived with all these years. Don’t you think that’s punishment enough?”

Monica snapped the reins and took off, forcing Lucy to jump back or be run over by a wagon wheel.

Twenty-six

Doctors, do not regard the camera as if it’s a patient needing help
through death’s door. Such a pose will speak ill of you, and it won’t
do much for your practice, either.

– M
ISS
G
ERTRUDE
H
ASSLEBRINK, 1878

T
he shiny brass plate on the front door read
Dr. Myers
. Wolf stared at it, surprised by the bitterness that rose up from his very depths. The polished sign, the tidy garden, the two story clapboard house and fine horse and carriage parked in front—all evidence of a successful man, a man who knew who he was and where he belonged. Wolf’s tormentors had buried the past and gone on to live normal lives. Wolf couldn’t help but marvel at their ability to do so.

It was only by chance that he was rescued that night, but there were many days he wondered if Malcolm Combes had done him any favors.

Since Combes’s funeral, he was obsessed with finishing the business of the past. Chained to his childhood, haunted, not only by the actions of others but by his own failure to break through society’s barriers, he hoped that whatever was in that box would help him better face the future. Now that he knew Lucy’s father was involved, he wished to God he’d stayed away.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Wolf rapped the brass knocker. Myers opened the door within seconds. Judging by the expectancy on his face, the doctor was clearly hoping it was someone else.

His face turned grim, but he showed no surprise. He looked Wolf up and down. “Twenty years is a long time. I didn’t recognize you the day I treated you in jail.”

“I recognized you,” Wolf said.

“The curse of having two different colored eyes, I suppose.” The doctor regarded him, his brow furrowed. “I . . . I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“When did you find out who I was?”

“Just a short while ago. Fairbanks came to see me. You just missed him. I—I still can’t believe it.”

“Fairbanks told you and not Barnes?”

“Barnes never said a word about you being alive. He tried to blackmail me. Said he would tell everything if I didn’t pay him. Ruin my reputation as a doctor. I couldn’t figure out why now, after all these years, he would do such a thing.”

“How much did you pay him?”

“Not a penny. I put him off by telling him I’d think about it. But then he disappeared.”

That’s the part that puzzled Wolf the most. Barnes disappearing. “Wouldn’t ruining your reputation also ruin his own?”

The doctor scoffed. “Barnes reputation was ruined long ago with his lies and his greed.” Wolf was still thinking about this when Myers added, “That night that you went down the river . . .”

Wolf’s muscles tensed. Even after all this time he could still recall the terror he felt.

“We searched for you for hours. We even went back the next day and the next. I didn’t think it possible for anyone to survive those rapids.”

“I was lucky,” Wolf said. More than lucky. “Someone heard my cries and pulled me out of the water.”

The doctor’s body jerked as if someone had struck him from behind. “Thank God.” He gazed upward. “Thank you, God.”

Wolf’s anger melted away. Until that moment he considered the doctor an enemy, but Myers seemed genuinely glad he was alive. Wolf wasn’t prepared for that. “We need to talk,” he said.

The doctor’s one brown eye twitched but he said nothing.

“I didn’t harm Barnes, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“The marshal is looking for you.” The doctor’s gaze traveled the length of Wolf. “They call you a wild man and a killer.”

“I’m not a killer,” Wolf said. “I’ll let you decide if I’m a wild man.”

Doc Myers studied him a moment before checking the road to see if anyone was watching. Stepping back, he motioned Wolf inside.

Wolf followed Myers into a parlor and glanced around. The furniture was plain but of good quality. It would have to be to hold the stacks of heavy books piled everywhere. A Duncan Phyfe sofa with ornamental legs and plain crest rail faced the fireplace. The rather plain but functional slant-top desk with teardrop pulls took up one corner of the room.

“It looks like you’ve done quite well for yourself.” Wolf turned to face the doctor.

Myers stood in the middle of the room. “If it’s money you want . . .”

Wolf bristled. “Money? You think that’s why I’m here? For money?”

“If not for money . . . why did you come back? After all this time?”

It was a question Wolf had asked himself countless times since arriving in Rocky Creek. He thought he knew the answer when he first came there but now he wasn’t so sure.

“The night you dragged me to the river, you took something from me. A box. I want it.”

“I have no memory of such a box,” the doctor said without hesitation. “Maybe one of the others . . .”

The
others
. “Barnes, you, and . . . Fairbanks.” Wolf waited. The doctor said nothing.

“I need one more name.”

The doctor gave his head a wooden shake. “I can’t give it to you. It wouldn’t help you to know who he was and it would only cause . . . unnecessary trouble.”

Wolf clenched his hands. “Why are you protecting this man?”

Myers let out an audible sigh. “I have my reasons.” He covered his face with both hands, shook his head, and slid his hands down to his chin. “What we did . . . that night . . . we’d been drinking. Still, there’s no excuse. We were young and foolish, all of us. We never meant for the boat to take off. You’ve got to believe that.” His voice broke.