Healing Grace (33 page)

“No!” Constance shrieked.

“Harry, don’t!” Etienne shouted and lunged, but he was too late.

BOOM!

Nathanial stared out the third floor window of the room at the inn. He’d been standing there for a while, watching the pedestrians meandering along the street below, much as he’d been doing for the last three days. A train had arrived not long before and the depot was bustling. Mount Joy, he thought vaguely, was a busy little town, indeed.

Absently he sipped the coffee he held. Just as he lowered the cup he heard a faint moan. Nathanial spun around and dropped the cup on the table so hastily it spilled over, but he didn’t care. Four rapid strides later, he was beside the bed.

“Hi,” he murmured, and gingerly, lest he jostle the man lying there, sat beside him. “You’re awake.”

“Am I… am I dead?” came the feeble whisper.

“No.” Nathanial smiled. “You’ve been asleep for a while. Three days to be exact. How do you feel?”

“How…how am I not dead?”

“No, don’t.” Nathanial caught the man’s hand to keep him from reaching up, then kept that hand firmly pressed within his own. “You’re not dead because Etienne Grace saved your life. He knocked the gun askew just as it went off. The bullet grazed you here…”

Nathanial ran a finger against his own skull to demonstrate, then went on, “It’s a bad wound, deep but not fatal, and it’s healing. You have a pretty thick bandage wrapped around your head right now, so don’t touch. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up, and now you have.” Before he could say more, Nathanial had to take a breath. “You’re going to be okay, Harry.”

Harry’s pretty blue eyes closed, and for that Nathanial was grateful. It gave him a moment to tramp down his own welling emotions. The terrifying images in his head, he was sure, would never go away. If he hadn’t been standing in the opened window three days ago, if he hadn’t heard Etienne and Constance talking to Sam Murphy and the colored girl, Nathanial wouldn’t have left David.

Even though he’d gone as fast as he could, by the time Nathanial had run out of the hotel and all the way to the livery, the wagon Sam Murphy had been driving was long gone. This hadn’t deterred Nathanial, however, for he knew where to find Oscar Anders’s farm.

He’d still been racing, pushing the nag of a horse to its limits, when the five successive shots were fired. He’d been close enough to hear the shrieks and screams. Just as he ran round the barn doors the sixth shot rang out. Nothing he’d ever experienced had been more devastating than seeing Harry fall. There’d been so much blood… so much blood…

The doctor had said they didn’t know if Harry would ever wake, and if he did, whether he’d be coherent. But he was awake and coherent. The last thing Harry needed now, however, was to see Nathanial overcome. Swallowing again, he asked, “Would you like a drink? Some water?”

“Okay,” Harry murmured weakly. “Where am I?”

Nathanial poured from the pitcher on the bedside table. While tucking his arm under Harry’s shoulders to lift him, he said, “We’re at the inn in Mount Joy. It’s a decent room, and you’re to stay until you’re back on your feet. Is that better? Are you hungry? How ’bout some bread and apple butter? I have some here.”

Nathanial set the glass aside, grabbed the basket and tore a small piece from the loaf. He dipped it in the spread, then kept feeding, watching the slow movement of Harry’s jaw as he chewed each small bite.

Harry had to be in pain, but he didn’t say so, and he wouldn’t. Harry never complained, so Nathanial could only guess at ways to offer comfort. He did everything he could think of, adjusting pillows, giving additional sips of water, and he continued doling over bread until Harry gestured he’d had enough. Nathanial would have felt better if Harry had eaten more, but he couldn’t force him.

“Well,” Nathanial said as cheerfully as he could, while setting the basket aside. “It’s been pretty busy these last three days. Would you like to hear the gossip?”

“Okay.”

“Where should I start? Let’s see. Etienne Grace had Edward Murphy arrested. Etienne also saw to it that Edward be held without bond until his trial. And it doesn’t look good. My guess is he’ll wind up with a hefty sentence. You don’t assault a decorated lieutenant and get off lightly, especially a decorated lieutenant who works for an even more decorated and influential colonel. Apparently Edward also assaulted a colored girl, though it will be harder for that charge to stick. Anyway, do you know him, Edward’s oldest son, Lieutenant Sam Murphy? Nice chap. He’s about your age, so I thought, since you both grew up here in Mount Joy, that the two of you might be acquainted?”

“I remember him, but didn’t know him well,” Harry whispered.

“Lieutenant Murphy asked me to pass along his thanks to you. I’m sure you realize Sam’s little brother is Archie Murphy, the boy whose life you saved,” Nathanial said.

“I wasn’t there,” Harry whispered in a rush. “I’ve been staying at the Klan barn, and didn’t go home, so I didn’t know Oscar took that boy. I didn’t know until I heard them talking at Constance’s house. But I got there too late. Oscar—”

“No, love,” Nathanial interrupted. “Oscar didn’t kill Archie. He might have if you hadn’t intervened when you did. Oscar did hurt him pretty badly. When you got there, the boy was unconscious, but he’s going to be okay. In fact, he’s well enough now for a train trip. He and Lieutenant Murphy leave for Washington tonight.”

“Archie’s okay?” Harry asked.

“Yes, he’s okay. Thanks to you, he’s going to be fine.” If it weren’t for the nasty bandage, Nathanial would have stroked back that fine, fair hair, but he couldn’t, so he went on, “Perhaps I should tell you about another boy—a colored boy—who was put on the train bound for Washington a couple weeks ago. He had a note pinned to him, and a tidy sum for the conductor. The note instructed that the boy be delivered to the home of the Reverend Sebastian Nash. The boy, whose name is Franklin, I believe, is there now and from all accounts, he’s doing well. You saved his life, too.”

Harry closed his eyes and Nathanial’s heart broke. The only thing he could do was try to lighten things. “This all brings me to the next bit of gossip. Julien Grace promised to check on Franklin and write of his health and progress. Julien, his wife and children, also leave on the train tonight.”

“Julien Grace?” Harry’s eyes opened. “But you… I thought… at the races, you said…”

“Yes, I said, and did, some… unpleasant things at the races,” Nathanial told him. “But that was the plan Julien and I put together. My role was to get the men to perceive me as an ally against Julien Grace, so those involved in a Klan resurgence would feel free to admit it to me. As it turns out, there is no Klan resurgence, not here in Tennessee, at any rate.”

“But I thought you were starting them again—”

“No, Harry. What I did ten years ago was a mistake. Too many people were harmed. Too many suffered, and it’s my fault. This is what I have to live with, and there’s nothing I regret more. All I can do now is go on, and try to be a better man.”

“Etienne Grace said you were given amnesty,” Harry murmured.

“Yes, that’s correct. General Seth McLean arranged for it. Even though I probably deserve to, I won’t go to prison for what I did.” Nathanial paused and added earnestly, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, love. I didn’t think it was important. But I know now that it was. I can’t thank you enough for trying to protect me. From the bottom of my heart, I owe you my deepest gratitude, and I will never forget what you went through for me.”

“Oooo,” Harry moaned.

“What can I do, love? What do you need?”

Harry’s head rolled on the pillow in a barely perceptible negative gesture. Nathanial wanted to grab him, to just hold on, but he couldn’t do that. He had to look away, to again swallow away threatening emotion.

When he raised his head, Harry’s pretty blue eyes were fixed on him, but his voice, when he spoke was so quiet, Nathanial could barely hear him.

“When is… when is my trial going to be?” Harry asked.

“You’re not under arrest, so there won’t be a trial,” Nathanial said. “Etienne had a hand in this, too. He convinced the authorities that Oscar’s death was self-defense. You have welts on your back from the beating he gave you. Oscar hurt a lot of people—too many people. As far as everyone is concerned, justice has been served.” Firmly Nathanial added, “I don’t want you to
ever
feel guilty for what you did to him.”

“I don’t mean Oscar,” Harry murmured. “I mean Luther… I ki—”

“No! Don’t say it,” Nathanial cut him off, then went on gently, “That’s the other news. David confessed to Luther’s murder.”

“But—”

“Listen to me, Harry,” Nathanial said. “David wanted to. He didn’t want you to go back to prison. He said what you endured there wasn’t fair. The confession was his idea, and it’s okay. You don’t need to feel accountable or ashamed. You don’t need to worry at all. Nobody blames you. The Emersons and the Graces have forgiven you, and everything’s been taken care of. Etienne made sure of it. There will never be any legal ramifications to you over what happened to Luther.”

Harry took a breath and another and his eyes welled. “Where is he? Where’s David?”

“He died, love. Yesterday.” Nathanial yanked the handkerchief from his pocket and tenderly wiped the tear trails from Harry’s cheeks. “It’s okay to be sad, but we have to remember, David’s in a better place now. He’s not suffering anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. “I know you loved him. He was special to you—”

“No, he wasn’t, not the way you’re thinking,” Nathanial interrupted again. “I did care for David, but he was only a friend. Nothing more.”

To ease things, because he needed to, Nathanial smiled and said, “Speaking of friends, one of yours has been coming to see you every day. She’s the one who brought you these pretty flowers. Do you see them? She brought one vase on Sunday and another yesterday, so I’m guessing she’ll have more with her today. She said you were never empty handed when you visited her. And…” Nathanial dug out his pocket watch. “…I expect her to be here within the next half hour or so, since school has let out for the day. Constance will be pleased to see you’re awake and doing well. Perhaps we should get you cleaned up, and dressed, make you a little more presentable? What do you think?”

“Why would Constance come to see me?”

“Oh, you mean because of Etienne Grace? Well, here’s some juicier gossip for you,” Nathanial forced a chortle. “It seems Constance and Etienne had words. I was with you at the time, so I didn’t witness it personally, but from what Julien said, Etienne asked for Constance’s hand in marriage, and Constance said, ‘The only hand you’ll get from me is this one.’ Then she slapped him across the face. She also said she never wants to see him again. And since he’s leaving on the train this evening as well, he won’t be attempting to win her favors anymore.”

Nathanial went on, “I’m thankful to Etienne for all he’s done these last few days for you, for me, for Archie, for David, but I’m still angry with him for courting Constance knowing of your affection. When I learned of it, I was so angry I almost went to the schoolhouse to confront him. But you no longer need to worry about that. To be honest, I think you were Constance’s first choice all along. She’s a nice lady, Harry, and I hope things work out between you. Now, let’s get you ready. I know you’re weak, but I’ll help you.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to see her,” Harry protested.

“Sure you do,” Nathanial insisted. “I have your clothes here, freshly laundered. You don’t want your lady friend to catch you in your nightshirt, do you?”

“But, I don’t…”

The rest of what Harry said was lost to sound. “What did you say? I’m sorry, love. You don’t feel well, and I’m pushing you too hard. You don’t have to accept any callers if you don’t want to.”

“I…I don’t like her,” Harry whispered, again so faintly Nathanial could barely hear.

“Of course you’re angry with her. And you should be. If you want, you can forget all about her. Once you’re back on your feet, you can find a new lady friend—one who will think only of you and won’t fall so easily for the charms of another, hmm? No, you’re right. Constance is too weak-willed. You don’t need a woman like that.”

“She’s not weak-willed and I’m not angry with her. That’s not what I meant,” Harry whispered. “I didn’t call on her because I have affection for her. I called on her because of her connection to the Graces. She knows them, their routines, their outings, because she’s close with Emily. I thought, as her beau, I could get an invite to Grace Manor. I didn’t want to court her.”

“Oh.” Nathanial didn’t know what to say. Harry coming up with such a devious scheme was so far out of character, Nathanial was stunned. At the same time he was deeply humbled. Harry had done all of it solely to protect him.

Nathanial was still reeling, still trying to think of how to respond, when Harry said, “I left something on the desk at the inn that night you brought me from the prison. Do you still have it?”

For a moment Nathanial thought Harry meant the note, but then he remembered the small photograph Harry had laid beside it. Nathanial had kept both, the note to remind him of what he could never have, and the photograph because it brought back memories—such bittersweet memories. The photographer had come through their camp and Nathanial hadn’t wanted to pose, but Harry had insisted. They’d stood together, side by side.

“This?” Nathanial said, as he retrieved it from the drawer. The photograph wasn’t in good condition. It was cracked through, horribly wrinkled and the edges were frayed, but the likenesses were still intact. “I’d wondered what happened to this. Do you know you haven’t changed? You still look exactly the same as you did sixteen years ago. So handsome…” Nathanial allowed his thumb to brush over the parchment briefly before he handed it over. Brightly he added, “Well, that was a long time ago. I’m surprised you kept it.”