September Wind (41 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Samuel slept in the easy chair once again, awakened the next morning when Emily came to and began to moan and stir about. He jumped from his seat and rushed across the room. When she saw him coming, she pulled the covers up and sank into her pillow.

              He stood back. “Listen, Emily, I’m here as a friend. Really, I’m your friend.” When she relaxed, he moved forward.

             
“
Do you recognize me?”

             
She nodded.

             
He reached for the call button, and then filled a glass with water. “Here, have some of this.” He slid his hand behind her head and lifted. She took a couple of sips, then sank back onto her pillow and drifted off.

             
Later that day, Doctor Barnes appeared in the doorway, motioning Samuel into the corridor.

             
“
Well. I’ve got some news.”

             
“
Is it Emily? Is something wrong?”

             
“
She’s fine. It’s Donald Schillings. Someone brought attempted murder charges against him.”

             
Samuel looked in through the doorway. “Oh, boy. And to think I allowed her to stay there with him.”

             
“
Now don’t beat yourself up. From what I hear, he’s fooled a lot of people.”

             
“
Trust me, Doctor, I knew he was no saint. So...what happened anyway?”

             
“
Well, supposedly, Schillings arranged for a couple of his men to kill a private detective. Somehow, the detective turned things around and shot both men. He didn’t kill them, but one of them is in jail with Schillings, and the other’s here in the hospital. Of course Schillings denies everything, says it was a setup. At any rate, it looks as if they’ll be able to keep him long enough to search his house.”

* * * *

              Emily awoke again wrestling her way out of a fog with images and flashes of pounding hoofs, barking dogs, a fight with Donald Schillings, and... Paul’s gentle voice. She felt him at her bedside and turned to the man she’d considered her enemy for the last few months.

             
“
Paul,” she said hoarsely.

             
He flung a magazine aside, jumped to his feet and leaned against the railing. “How’re you feeling?”

             
“
Like I’ve been caught in a stampede. Other than that, my mouth is dry as a bone. Could you please help me with some water? Maybe that’ll get me out of this stupor.”

             
When she had satisfied her thirst, he refilled the tumbler, set it on the stand, and then took a seat. She watched him curiously, realizing he seemed genuinely relieved to see that she was awake. “You’ve been here all along, haven’t you? How long has it been, anyway?”

             
“
I’ve been here for the most part, and this is your fifth day. Do you remember falling?”

             
“
No.”

             
“
Your arm is broken.”

             
She looked down at her cast. “I thought it might be.”

             
“
Do you remember what happened?”

             
“
Sort of.” Suddenly she remembered Maria coming to her room after Donald hit her. “The children. Are they okay? Have you gone back to check on them?”

             
“
No. There was no need. Schillings is in jail, and Maria and Nathan aren’t there any longer.”

             
“
What?” She made a move to get up. “I have to go to them.”

             
“
Wait a minute, Emily, listen. They’re in good hands.”

             
She dropped back to the pillow. “You know where they are?”

             
“
Not exactly. But I’m told they’re staying with a nurse.”

             
“
Mm, that’s good.”

             
Exhaustion took over, and she closed her eyes, not sure why, but glad Paul was with her. There was something peaceful having him here.

             
Each time she woke, he was there to reassure her. It was difficult to concentrate through the fuzz, but she sensed when it was night, or daylight. One day, she awoke feeling almost normal. She looked over and saw that, once again, he was sitting beside the bed. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, thinking about many things.

Suddenly it occurred to her that she was free of Donald Schillings. It gave her such a rush of joy she wanted to leap from the bed and walk outside into the fresh air.

              “
So, they finally arrested Donald, huh?

             
“
Oh, Emily, you’re awake.” Samuel sat up, putting a magazine aside. “Are you okay?”

             
“
Yes, can’t you tell? For the first time I can actually see straight. Think, too. So, it is true? Donald is in jail?”

             
“
Yes. Yes he is.”

             
“
Did they find the body... or I guess I should say, the bodies?”

             
“
What bodies?” Samuel reached for the rail, pulling himself closer.

             
“
Well... I only saw one. You know, when you caught me trying to jump the horse over the…”

             
Samuel’s voice was raw. “You were out hunting bodies?”

             
“
Just the one, out past the corral.”

             
He looked up at a nurse who had just walked in, then back to Emily. His eyes were ablaze. “Schillings is being held on attempted murder charges. I didn’t hear anything about…” He thought for a moment then stood. “I’ll be back,” he said, already heading across the room.

“
But wait, there’s more.”

He turned at the door, shook his head, and disappeared.

* * * *

Paul returned four hours later just as Emily woke from a nap. She pulled herself up on the pillow and watched him walk across the room.

              “
They found something, didn’t they?”

             
He took a seat and folded his arms. “I’m afraid so.”

             
“
Who was it?”

             
“
Well, there were two so far, and they’re looking for more. Erwin, Gabriel’s brother was one of them.”

             
“
Oh, no. Poor Gabriel.” Emily sighed and lay back on the pillow. “Poor Gabriel,” she said again. “She has to be so upset.” Tears filled her eyes when she realized that the other body must be Peter’s.

             
“
Do you know what happened?”

             
“
A little. From what I gather, after the police talked to Gabriel, the theory is that when their father left their mother with five children to raise, Erwin got mixed-up with Schillings’ drug ring in an attempt to help her out.”

             
“
Wow. So George was right.”

“
Right about what? The drugs? No, never mind I don’t want to know.”

             
“
What’s the problem? I’m okay, aren’t I?”

             
“
You call lying there wrapped up like a mummy, okay?”

             
“
That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. Anyway... what about Erwin. Why’d they kill him?”

             
“
They suspected he was stealing drugs from Schillings and selling them on the side.”

Emily felt sick, guilty for not going to the police. “I knew something was wrong with Gabriel. And then I thought… Well, I thought there might be some other things going on too. I don’t know, looking back, I see I was being more cautious than I should’ve been. Now it’s too late.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “That was so...
stupid
of me. I should’ve done something.”

“Really, what could you have done? Erwin made his own choices. And if you wouldn’t have been there they might never have found his body, or who knows how many more. Hear what I’m saying?”

              She felt a chill and pulled up the covers, glancing over. “Yeah... I guess.”

             
“
That’s it then. It’s over. Now I think you should rest. You want me to roll down your bed?”

             
“
No. I just took a long nap.” Her head itched. She wondered when the doctor would take off her bandages.

             
Paul got up and went over to look out the window.

Emily watched him, glad that what she had thought of him wasn’t true at all. Everything was so confusing.

              “
Paul,” she said.

             
He went back and took a seat. “What is it?”

“
It’s just that in the last few days when I’ve been dozing and waking, everything’s been such a blur, but I thought I saw. Or maybe it was just that I – I thought I heard…” She sighed and dropped her eyes. “Oh, forget it. I’m sure it was just a dream.”

             
“
You mean Doctor Michael Foster, don’t you? The man you met on the train?”

“You mean he
was
here?”

“He came in to see how you were doing. Seems like a nice young man. Anyway, your doctor offered to let him assist in your care.”

Just knowing he was there excited her.
He led you on, silly girl… remember
?

“I’m certain he’ll be back,” Paul said.

              “
It doesn’t matter.” Yet she hoped he would. “So, do I really look like a mummy?”

             
“
Mm, just a little.” He smiled and reached for a magazine from the nightstand. “But a very attractive one, I have to say.”

             
“
Oh sure, trying to take it back are you?”

             
“
Absolutely not. Say, young lady. I think you’ve had enough excitement for today. So, I’ll tell you what. I’m going to take that easy chair over there in the corner and look through this magazine while you rest.”

             
He got up and started for the chair, but she reached for his arm. “I want to talk.”

             
He stepped back, put down the magazine, and took a seat. “Okay. What would you like to talk about?”

             
“
I’m just trying to understand a few things, like. Why are you going through all this trouble for me?” She noticed his jaw tighten. “What, am I gonna die or something?”

             
“
Oh, don’t be silly, you’re fine.”

             
“
So then, what is it? Why are you here? Why do you even care?”

             
“
Well... there is something that I’ve wanted to talk to you about… It’s the letter you wrote to Samuel Dimsmoore. Do you still want to find him?”

             
“
Of course I do.”

             
Paul rubbed his hands together, clearing his throat, looking nervous. “Let me ask you something. Uhm…”

             
“
Paul? What is it?”

             
“
Okay, so this might seem like an odd question, but... did you ever tell anyone you didn’t want to meet him... meet Samuel?”

             
“
Nooo?”

             
“
Oh, dear. Wow, okay then... so let’s say if Samuel happened to be, let’s say...a Negro, that wouldn’t... matter to you?”

             
Now Emily laughed. “Why would you ask such a thing? I’ve let you hang around my room for days now, haven’t I? Hey, wait a minute. How’d you know about Samuel? Did Donald tell you about the letter I sent him?”

             
Paul put a hand on the rail and pulled himself up. “Listen, Emily. I don’t know why this is so difficult for me to say, but the truth is, that I’m Samuel. I’m Samuel Dimsmoore, and I’m...”