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Authors: Sherri Shackelford

A Family for the Holidays (13 page)

BOOK: A Family for the Holidays
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“Is Miss Lily going to be all right?” Peter asked.

“She'll be fine. I saw a checkers game set up in the lobby. Why don't you two play a few games while the doctor and I take care of Lily?”

The two eagerly agreed. Once they'd left the room, Jake peeled back the layers of bandages and examined the scratch on Lily's leg. “This has gotten infected.”

A piece of the bandage had adhered to the dried blood, and she flinched when he pulled the edge free.

“I thought I would be all right.” She hissed. “But the pain just kept getting worse and worse.”

The porter delivered a ewer of water, and Jake carefully cleaned the edges. A sharp rap on the door indicated the arrival of the doctor.

As short as he was round, he wore a black suit over his crisp white shirt. His dark hair had been parted in a torturous path down the exact center of his scalp, then slicked away from his face with some sort of pomade.

He knelt beside Lily and frowned. “I do wish my patients would see me sooner. Especially the ladies. They always wait too long.” He glanced up. “How did this happen?”

Lily offered a weak grin. “Gobbler.”

“Oh, dear.” The doctor pressed his hand against the back of her head. “Has she taken a blow to the head, as well?”

“She's not rambling,” Jake said. “She had a bit of an accident while we were riding. We startled a rafter of turkeys and she was thrown. One of the gobblers scratched her during its escape.”

“The immediate cure is going to sting like a rattlesnake bite,” the doctor declared.

Jake sat on the edge of the bed and took Lily's hand.

The doctor balanced a pair of spectacles on his nose. He uncorked an opaque bottle of a noxious-smelling substance and doused a clean rag.

“All right, miss,” he said. “Take a big, deep breath.”

He pressed the cloth against her leg and Lily shouted and squirmed. She squeezed Jake's hand in a bone-shattering grip. Her back arched, and she groped for his lapel with her opposite hand, her eyes squeezed shut, her face contorted in a grimace.

Jake fought off a sudden urge to sock the doctor in the face for hurting her.

“All right.” The doctor removed the cloth and peered over his spectacles. “That's the worst of it. Doesn't look like the infection spread. I think we caught it soon enough. Next time call me sooner.”

Jake scowled. “The lady isn't in the mood for a lecture.”

“Overprotective husbands.” The doctor adjusted his spectacles on his nose. “I guess I'd rather have threatening, protective grizzly bears than the alternative. Ladies are always looking out for the rest of the family, and they forget to take care of themselves. Another day and I'd have had to cauterize that wound.”

Lily gave a strangled cry. Jake glared.

“Relax. The both of you.” The doctor shrugged. “Sometimes my patients need a dose of the truth in order to take care of themselves.”

The doctor dug in his bag and pulled out a tin. “Clean and dress the wound at least once a day, and put a little of this under the bandage.”

Jake accepted the tin. “Anything else?”

“She'll be back on her feet in no time.” The doctor grasped her wrist and frowned in concentration. “Her pulse is strong. She's healthy. I'd say she's more exhausted than anything. You folks been traveling much?”

“A little.”

That was an understatement. She'd been crisscrossing the country for days.

“Take a day or two and rest.” The doctor rummaged in his bag and retrieved more supplies. “Relax. Let her catch her strength. Make sure she eats. I'd say she's a bit underweight.” He spread a poultice over the wound, then wrapped the bandage around her calf once more. “Remember. Rest is the best medicine.”

He set a clear, liquid-filled bottle on the side table. “This will help her sleep. Looks like Father will be looking out for the young 'uns for a while.”

“I'm fine, Jake.” Lily struggled upright. “I can take care of Sam and Peter.”

The doctor pressed her shoulder, urging her back against the stack of pillows. “Men are more capable than you think. Let your husband take care of the children.”

Jake's chest swelled with something akin to pride. He found he enjoyed being addressed as Lily's husband.

“Don't worry,” Jake said with a small smile. “I promise they'll survive.”

“I'm more worried about your survival. Don't show any sign of weakness, or Peter will take advantage of you.” Too exhausted for more instructions, she collapsed against the pillows. “I only need a nap. Twenty minutes and I'll be good as new.”

She tugged the blanket over her shoulder and turned on her side.

The doctor waved Jake away from her bedside. “She'll be asleep for hours. There's a nice café in town that serves roast beef on Fridays. I suggest taking your young 'uns there for dinner.”

“There's something else as long as you're here,” Jake said. “Lily is sick when we travel. Is there anything that will help?”

The doctor scratched his chin. “There's folklore about several cures. I've found ginger works the best. A bit of ginger before a trip will often help settle the stomach. You might try that.”

The doctor packed up his supplies and slipped out the door. Jake rubbed his forehead. The delay should have left him frustrated. Instead, there was only a curious lethargy. The incessant need for the chase had abated. The craving for danger that normally gnawed at his gut had dissipated. He looked forward to a checkers game with Peter. He wanted to hear one of Sam's stories. All thoughts of illegal guns faded into the background.

He'd spent weeks in Frozen Oaks without a solid lead—what was another day or two?

He wasn't an overprotective husband, but he'd certainly become an overprotective
pretend
husband.

Chapter Twelve

L
ily stubbornly crossed her arms. “I'm not resting anymore.”

Jake had been treating her as though she'd contracted the plague, not simply injured her leg.

“You're resting.” The implacable set of his jaw remained. “Doctor's orders. You can't be mad at me. Blame him.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Where are we now?”

“Seneca.”

“That's close.” She pictured Seneca on the map. “We're over halfway to St. Joseph. The boardinghouse is on the western edge of town, just across the river.”

“We're staying the night, and I'm not arguing.”

“But we've already lost a day.”

“Then we'll lose another day. We're far enough from Frozen Oaks that I feel safe going into town and listening for any gossip. After seeing the sheriff in Steele City, we can assume Vic hasn't given up.”

“That's out of the question.” She vigorously shook her head. “What if someone recognizes you? By your own admission, you're a wanted man. What if something happens to you?”

The more time they spent together, the more she worried for his safety. The delay had her on edge. She wouldn't feel secure until they'd spoken with the judge about Vic's claims of guardianship. The man was a constant, troublesome worry. Until his claim was successfully refuted, they were all in danger. Jake most of all. Yet he insisted on behaving as though nothing was wrong.

He propped one shoulder against the wall. “This isn't my usual haunt. No one will recognize me. Especially without my beard and long hair.”

“Where is your usual haunt?” She plucked at the stitching on the counterpane, keeping her voice deceptively neutral. “Where do you live when you're not roaming the countryside as a hired gun?”

“Enough talk. It's time for rest.”

She made a sound of frustration in her throat. The man was a closed book. He let her peer around the edges, but he never allowed her any closer. She'd caught snippets of his past. His mother was dead, he had siblings, although she didn't know how many. He'd been born in Paris, Texas. The more she learned, the more she sensed he was hiding something from her.

Her eyelids drooped and she leaned back once more.

“Did you take the laudanum?” Jake asked.

Lily stifled a yawn. “A little.”

“The doctor recommended a café in town. Sam and Peter and I are going to have dinner. We'll bring back something for you.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“I'll bring you something anyway, just in case. Doctor's orders.”

“Stop blaming the doctor for everything.” Another yawn interrupted her protest. “All right. I'll take a short nap, and then we can discuss leaving. I won't relax until we're in St. Joseph.”

The twinge of homesickness had turned into an ache. All the uncertainty had left her restless and discontent. She craved something familiar. She craved her own bed. She craved being surrounded by her own things. She wanted her routine back. Yet when she considered those tasks, the future stretched before her in a bleak haze. What did she have to look forward to?

There was no one waiting for her. The friends she'd made over the years were transient. The decision had been purposeful. Since her father's death, she hadn't let anyone close to her. She'd never minded the solitude. Until now. She'd grown close to Sam and Peter, even Jake.

Eventually the laudanum took effect and wiped away all her other arguments. She awoke the following morning feeling refreshed and ready to face anything. The scratch on her leg no longer throbbed, and her stomach rumbled. After washing up and quickly dressing, she went in search of her traveling companions.

She discovered Jake, Sam and Peter in the parlor. They'd pushed the furniture to the side and chalked a circle on the hardwood floor with two flanking horizontal lines.

“You've written on the floor!” she exclaimed, aghast.

Jake glanced up and caught her horrified gaze. “Don't worry. We cleared our game with the management. As long as we clean up afterward, they said we were welcome to play.”

Lily sank onto one of the chairs that had been pushed against the wall.

Sam waved her over. “You can play with us.”

“I can't.” She held up her hands in denial. “I don't know how.”

“It's not difficult. We can teach you.”

“I'm a beginner.” Lily sank deeper into her chair. “I'll ruin your game.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Everyone starts out a beginner. How else are you supposed to learn?”

She couldn't argue with that logic. Pushing aside her skirts, Lily slid from her chair and reclined on the floor. For the next fifteen minutes, the three patiently explained the rules of marbles.

Sam knelt behind one of the lines. “We have to decide who goes first. You shoot your marble and whichever marble lands closest to the line on the opposite side without going over, that person has the first turn.”

Sam easily made her shot, and Lily took her place behind the line. Mimicking Sam, she flicked the marble with her thumb.

“Not like that,” Sam said. “You need at least one knuckle touching the ground.”

“Yeah,” Peter chimed in. “You have to knuckle down or it doesn't count.”

Lily bit her lip and concentrated on mimicking the way Peter positioned his hand. Her brow knitted, she made her second attempt. She flicked the sphere with her thumb, but only caught the edge. Her marble barely reached the center of the circle.

Sam chucked her on the shoulder. “You'll do better next time.”

They each took a turn and Jake's marble landed closest to the line. Sam retrieved larger marbles. When she finished, Peter dumped a pouch full of smaller marbles into the circle.

Jake knuckled down and flicked his shooter with his thumb. His marble ricocheted off one of the smaller targets, knocking it from the circle.

“That's perfect,” Peter said. “That's exactly what you want to do. Jake is good at this. You have to get all the smaller marbles out of the circle without letting your shooter roll out. When you shoot a target outside the ring, you pick it up, then you try again from the spot where the shooter landed. We're not playing for keepsies or anything.”

Lily glanced up from the game. “What's
keepsies
?”

“It's when you get to keep the marbles you win in the game.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“Sam lost a whole bag of marbles once.” Peter chuckled. “I still can't believe you've never played before.”

“I've never been one for games.”

“Not even when you were a kid? In school.”

“I stuck to myself a lot.” Lily rolled her marbles together in her palm. “I've never found games to be practical. What purpose do they serve?”

“They're fun,” Peter said. “You get to know people better when you play games with them. You can learn a lot about someone by how well they take a loss.”

“Who loses better? You or Sam?”

“Sam.” Peter shrugged. “It's good to learn about people when you have to make new friends all the time. Everyone shares the same stories with you when you're the new person. You have to be interesting.”

“I was never very interesting.” Lily spun the shooter in her hand. “Benjamin, my brother, never had trouble making friends.”

“That's why you have to stick together,” Sam chimed in. “Like Peter and me. If one of you isn't interesting, the other one can be. Didn't your brother ever look out for you?”

“There were three years between us. I don't think he ever took much notice of me.” Benjamin had always been the brightest star in the class. He was smart and adventurous. Adults and children alike were drawn to his boundless energy. “He was looking out for himself.”

“My mom said we had to look out for each other.”

“Your mom was right.”

“Who did you live with after your father died?”

“No one,” Lily replied. Given their current circumstances, Peter's curiosity was understandable. “I was older than you. I didn't need looking out for.”

“How old were you?”

“I was seventeen. We lived at a boardinghouse. After my father died, I had no place else to go. So I stayed. I went to work and earned my keep. Mrs. Hollingsworth, the current owner and landlady, is going to retire soon. I'll take over for her.”

“How does that work?”

“I gave Mrs. Hollingsworth part of a down payment to buy the boardinghouse. I'll continue to make payments to her until the house is paid off in full.”

“Wow. Houses are really expensive. Won't that take a long time?”

“Yes.” Lily's calculation of the numbers had been daunting. “A very long time.”

“Can we come visit you?”

“Absolutely,” she said easily, though a sudden melancholy permeated her.

She snuck a glance at Jake, but he was concentrating on his next shot. He didn't appear at all interested in their conversation. She was certain her mixed feelings were readily apparent.

She sincerely hoped Emil moved away from Frozen Oaks once he came out of hiding, but she didn't know where he'd take the children. The thought of never seeing them again left her empty and cold.

Before, she'd always thought there was something wrong with her. She'd never felt things as deeply as the other members of her family, especially her father and Benjamin. They'd thrown themselves headfirst into all their endeavors, while she'd quietly watched from the sidelines.

She'd seen people come and go from the boardinghouse without a flicker of yearning. While other girls had fallen in and out of love on a weekly basis, she'd never been tempted by passion.

Her time on this trip had changed her. Sam and Peter had opened a place in her heart that she hadn't known existed. She'd never considered herself lonely. She was always busy. Yet the closer she came to returning home, the less enthusiasm she felt.

Her inertia must have been contagious. None of them showed much enthusiasm for catching the next train. As much as they'd been focused on returning to St. Joseph, the end of the trip meant the end of their partnership. They lingered in the parlor. Peter taught her the best way to knuckle down on a marble. In an effort to find a distraction, they formed teams and played chess. The girls handily beat the boys.

All the while the clock ticked. And as the clock hands turned, her discontent with her current dreams intensified. She'd never dreamed past the basics of survival. Growing up, she'd always been the practical member of the family. Practical, sensible people had practical, sensible dreams.

She'd assumed the role and never considered another alternative. The world was limitless, and limitlessly frightening. There were too many possibilities to calculate. She'd never been very passionate about anything but surviving.

Perhaps that was why this past week had been invigorating. She'd called on the one skill she'd honed all these years. Surviving from day to day was the one thing she did best.

Despite a last raucous game of marbles, lunch was a somber and quiet affair. Sam pushed her food around her plate and Peter was unusually subdued.

As they packed for the final leg of their journey, the doctor visited and checked on Lily's leg. He declared her wound free of infection, and advised her to continue changing the bandages each day. He also brought a paper bag full of gingersnap cookies his wife had baked.

“These are for you, miss,” the doctor said. “They'll help with the sickness on the train. My wife and son won't travel without a dozen or so.”

The kind gesture brought unexpected tears to her eyes. Though she had little faith in the remedy, she gratefully accepted the thoughtful gift. For the first time in days, the sun broke through the clouds. Even though the temperature had dropped, the light was cheerfully welcome.

The last leg of their journey proved singularly uneventful. Much to Lily's surprise, the cookies actually helped. When they reached St. Joseph, she waited for the comfort of familiar sights and sounds. The underlying realization that she'd probably never see Jake again tugged at her. She shouldn't mind, and yet somehow she did. She minded very much.

The fate of Sam and Peter weighed on her, as well. As Jake arranged for a ride to the boardinghouse, she found herself dreading the homecoming instead of anticipating her return.

They had agreed to stop at the boardinghouse first, giving Lily a much-needed opportunity to change and clean up before visiting the courthouse. None of them had broached the subject of the future beyond the next step of the journey. With the end of their adventure nearing, the four of them were unusually somber. As they neared the final turn, Jake clasped his hands before him.

“How's your leg?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence once more. The boarders always had stories to tell, and Lily finally had one of her own. She'd escaped cross-country with an outlaw, she'd even kissed him. The carriage rounded the corner and Lily gasped.

“What happened?”

* * *

Jake looked at the burned-out building and back at Lily once more. “Is this the correct address?”

“Yes.” She cupped her cheek with one hand. “That's my home. That's the boardinghouse.”

Fire had ravaged the building. The top floor was almost completely decimated, charred and ragged with only three brick fireplaces rising through the wreckage. The windows on the first floor had been boarded over, and ash and debris darkened the snow surrounding the structure.

Furniture and personal belongings had been haphazardly scattered across the lawn. Jake gazed at the devastated building and back at Lily, gauging her reaction. She appeared numb and disbelieving.

Sam blew out a low whistle. “Wow. That must have been some fire. There's hardly anything left.”

BOOK: A Family for the Holidays
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