Going Home
by Suzanne
Chapter One
Leah Thomson stepped outside the back door of the hotel's kitchen to empty a dishpan of dirty water into the dirt at the side of the stairs. She caught her breath as she moved from the warmth of the kitchen into the cold air of a November night. The noise of loud music and raucous laughter drifted toward her from the back of the saloon next door. The light from the opened door suddenly illuminated the shadows cast in the alleyway by the waning moon, as well as the figure of a man who was stooped over a heap of clothes lying in the narrow passage between the forest and the backs of the buildings.
The light startled the man, who covered his face with his arm and fled down the alley into the darkness. As Leah watched, confused and uncertain, the heap moved, putting out an arm, and groaned for help.
She dropped the dishpan with a loud clatter, and ran toward the man lying in the alley. She stopped within a few feet of him and looked back toward the hotel. She stood, paralyzed by indecision, for several seconds, until the man groaned again. Taking a deep breath, she moved
toward him and knelt down. He was a tall man, over six feet, and muscular, much larger and heavier than the slight young woman kneeling next to him. His light brown hair was caked and matted with dirt and blood.
She put a hand on his cheek. Even in the fringes of the light from the door she could see that he had been badly beaten. His face was covered with bright red splotches that would soon turn black and blue, his lower lip was split and bleeding, and there was blood on his forehead and one cheek.
From the way that he was moaning and the feeble attempts he was making to stand, she suspected that more than just his face and head had been hurt.
"Now, you lie easy, mister," she said. "I gotta get some help. I cain't lift you all by myself." She stood to leave. The man grasped at her skirts in a wordless plea.
"I'll be back, I promise," she said fervently. "I jus' gotta get some help." She lifted her skirts
above her ankles and ran the few yards back to the hotel and up the stairs into the kitchen. A tall, lean, dark-haired man wearing the clothing of a prosperous businessman had just come through
the door from the dining room.
"For heaven's sake, Leah!" he exclaimed. "What happened to you?"
She looked down at herself. The front of her dress with streaked with mud and dirt where she had knelt in the alley and her sleeves were stained with blood where they had brushed against the wounded man.
"Matt, Matt," she sobbed, her grey eyes wide and pleading. "You gotta help me. There's a man hurt in the alley. Looks like he got beat an' maybe robbed. He's hurt real bad, Matt."
Her brother pursed his lips. "I don't know, Leah. There's some pretty tough customers in this town."
"Oh, Matt," she begged. "He cain't harm you none, he's too hurt for that. We cain't leave him out there in the alley like that."
He shook his head. "No, I guess we can't." He shrugged and removed his coat. "All right, let's go get him."
He followed his sister out into the alley. The man had managed to crawl a few inches toward the hotel, but the effort had exhausted him. Matt and Leah each knelt and lifted one of his arms around their neck, and slid an arm around his waist. They lifted the man, and half-carried, half- dragged him into the kitchen and set him on a chair next to the large worktable in the center. The man slumped down onto the table. Only his rapid and shallow breathing showed that he was still alive.
Leah ran to the pump and filled a basin with water. She grabbed a clean cloth from a rack, and sat on a chair next to the injured man. "Jus' let me get him cleaned up some, Matt, then we'll take him up an' put him to bed in one a them empty rooms. Then I'll go for the doc." She gently and carefully dabbed at the mud and blood on the man's face. He stirred and moaned briefly when she touched his lip and the area around his eyes. "Looks like he's gonna have a real shiner in a couple a days."
Matt was busy trying to brush the dirt off of his vest and pants. He looked at the stains on his shirt sleeves and shook his head. He had just picked up his coat when his wife came into the kitchen. "What is going on here?" she demanded, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Martha Simmons would have been a good-looking woman, tall and well-built, with a mass of blonde hair piled high, if it were not for the calculating slant to her eyes and the perpetual scowl of discontent around her mouth.
Leah did not pause in her task. The man's breathing had slowed and become deeper. He briefly opened one eye, then closed it as the light stabbed at his brain. Matt coughed and cleared his throat. "He, uh, well, it looks like he was beaten and robbed. Leah found him. We, uh, well, we brought him in to, uh, to see . . ." He stopped at the look of fury on his wife's face. "Well, you can just take him right back out. This is a hotel, not a charity mission. We've got a business to run. If she had her way, this place would be full of strays looking for a handout. And we can't have someone like that in the kitchen. It isn't sanitary."
"I was jus' finishin' up, so I'm doin' this on my own time," Leah said calmly as she began to clean his scraped and bruised knuckles. "An' he won't be here long. We'll be takin' him upstairs directly."
Martha laughed contemptuously. "In front of everyone? Over my dead body! What would our guests think? We run a clean house here. It's everything I can do to keep the riff-raff out as it is. What would happen if word got around that we were taking in every drifter who got himself into a barroom brawl? And, if he was beaten and robbed, as you say, then he won't have the money to pay for a room, anyway."
Leah looked at her brother, pleading silently with him. Matt coughed again, and cleared his throat. He looked at the floor, and rubbed his chin with his hand. "Well, Martha, he is hurt pretty bad. We can't just throw him out." He looked at her cautiously. "We could put him in the store room, make up a cot in there. Leastways, just for tonight."
Leah turned and looked at her sister-in-law with the same mute appeal in her eyes. Martha narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. "I said no, and I mean no. You can finish cleaning him up, then I want him out of here." She turned and stalked out. Matt looked at Leah and shrugged. "Sorry, I tried."
Leah nodded in sympathy. Before she could speak, Martha could be heard calling, "Matt, come out here. We have customers." He shrugged again and headed for the door. He stopped in the doorway and asked, "What do you want to do with him?" "Reckon I'll have to take him home," Leah answered. "Not much else I cain do with him. I got that spare room on the side."
Matt nodded. "I'll help you get him over there after things settle down." Leah nodded and smiled her thanks. When Matt returned several hours later, the man was sitting slumped in the chair, a cup of water in his hands and a half-empty bowl of clear soup on the table in front of him. He and Leah were talking in low voices. He nodded slightly at Matt, then winced.
"This here's Mister Tom Barkley," Leah introduced him. "An' this is my brother, Matt Simmons. Him an' his wife, Martha, run this hotel." "Pleased to meet you," Tom mumbled through swollen lips. "I hear I have you and your sister to thank. Sorry to be so much trouble. I'll leave soon. Goin' to Stockton." "Now, I done told you!" Leah scolded, "You ain't goin' nowhere 'cept to my house where I cain look after you 'til you're fit. You shore ain't in no condition to be travellin' anywhere, 'specially not somewhere as far away as Stockton. You'd be daid 'fore you got there."
She looked at Matt, "He heard what Martha was sayin' an' jus' keeps insistin' on leavin'. I keep tellin' him he wouldn't make it down the back stairs." "My sister's right," Matt agreed. "I'd let you stay here, only we're full up. You're not in any condition to walk far. Just wait here while I go hitch up the buggy and bring it around back." He stopped and looked around carefully, then slid a small, flat bottle out of his coat pocket and handed it to Leah. "He might want a slug or two of this while you're waiting." He continued on out the back door of the kitchen.
Tom's lips twitched in a brief smile of thanks. Leah poured a shot of the whiskey into a clean glass from the drainboard. Tom took it carefully in both hands and sipped gratefully. When it was empty, he set it on the table.
"Thought your name was Thomson," he looked at Leah quizzically, "your brother's name is Simmons. Thomson your married name?"
She looked startled, then shook her head. "Oh, no. No, I'm not married. It'd be more proper to say that Matt's my half-brother. Same momma, diff'rent daddies. That's how come he's so much older'n me."
Tom nodded in comprehension. Before he could speak, Matt opened the back door, "Buggy's ready." He helped Tom out the door and down the stairs. Leah quickly washed out the glass and put it back on the drainboard, then corked the whiskey bottle and slipped it into the pocket of her dress. She followed the men out, and climbed into the back seat of the buggy next to Tom.
"We better stay in the alley 'til we get to the end of the street," Matt said. Leah nodded. Even Tom understood that it was so Martha would not see the buggy from the front of the hotel. They drove silently down the alley, between the dark forest and the backs of locked shops, through squares of light cast from the windows of hotel rooms, crossed by the shadows of men and women, past saloons whose flimsy walls showed chinks of light and did little to contain the uproar inside.
After a time, they left the clamor and confusion of the mining town and entered a dark, quiet area of houses and cottages with patches of grass in the front and small vegetable gardens in the back.
Matt continued on, and finally pulled up at a small two-story, green frame house on the edge of town. Leah jumped out of the buggy and opened the door. She quickly found a lamp and lit it. Matt helped Tom into the house, and followed Leah through the main room of the house into a bedroom on the side.
She set the lamp on a table. "Matt, you help Mister Barkley get undressed. I'll see if I cain find somethin' clean for him to wear." She left, closing the door behind her.
A voice spoke from the stairs leading to the second floor, "Miss Leah? That you, Miss Leah?"
"Yes, Hannah. It's me. Wait a minute while I get a light." She lit another lamp and looked at the black woman standing on the stairs, holding her wrapper close around her.
"A man got beat up behind the hotel tonight." Hannah raised her hand to her mouth. "Matt helped me bring him home. He's puttin' him to bed right now. He's gonna stay here 'til he gets well,
Hannah. He's got nowhere else to go."
Hannah nodded. "Yes, ma'am, Miss Leah. If you says so. You doesn't reckon he's a bad man, does you?"
"No, Hannah. He's not a bad man. Now, help me find somethin' clean for him to wear. One a those old nightshirts. You know the ones I mean. One a Mister Sawyer's."
Hannah nodded again and walked down the rest of the stairs. She held the lamp while Leah rummaged through a large trunk against the wall. She pulled out a large white nightshirt and held it up. "This'll have to do."
She knocked on the door to the bedroom and handed Matt the folded nightshirt when he answered. "It's prob'ly too short, but it'll go around him, an' what it don't cover, the blankets will."
Matt nodded, and closed the door. When he came out again, he was carrying Tom's clothes, which he handed to Leah. He nodded to Hannah in a silent greeting.
"He's in bed now. Might want to give him another slug a that whiskey, help him to sleep." He grinned conspiratorially at her. "That is, if you have any whiskey."
She nodded in comprehension and grinned back at him.
"I better get back before Martha misses me." He looked at the closed door. "He don't seem like a bad sort, and he's too busted up right now to do you any harm, but I'm glad you got Hannah here." He looked at Hannah. "Hannah, you come get me if he tries anything, you hear me?"
Hannah nodded. "Yes, sir, Mister Simmons. I takes good care a Miss Leah, you knows that."
"Yes, I do, Hannah. Now, I gotta get or Martha will skin me good." Matt hurried out of the house.
Leah went over to the cupboard for a glass and poured a couple of inches of whiskey into it, then motioned to the other woman. "Come on, Hannah," she said, and went to the bedroom. Hannah followed, still holding the lamp.
Tom raised himself on one arm as they entered the room. He tried to form his swollen lips into a smile of greeting. Leah sat on the bed and slipped an arm under his shoulders to support him. He took the glass in both hands and sipped at the whiskey.
"Now, you drink this, an' then try to get some sleep." She looked at Hannah, "Oh, an' this here's Hannah James. She lives with me, an' she'll be helpin' me take care a you. Hannah, this is Mister Tom Barkley."
Tom nodded, "How do, Miss James?" He took another sip of the whiskey.
"Oh, Mister Barkley, you jus' calls me Hannah. Ain't nobody calls me Miss James. An' now, you do like Miss Leah says an' lay right down an' go to sleep. Her an' me, we're jus' upstairs. If you need anything, you jus' holler an' we'll hear you."
Tom finished the whiskey and did as Hannah commanded. The two women left the room and
closed the door. They headed up the stairs to their bedrooms.
"He a nice man, Miss Leah. Real polite."
"Yes, he's a nice man, Hannah."
"An' he got nice eyes, don't he, Miss Leah?"
"Yes, Hannah, he got nice eyes. What I cain see of 'em."
"They be blue, don't they?"
"Yes, Hannah, they be blue."
"An' I bet he got a right nice smile, too, when he cain smile."
Leah laughed at the door of her room. "I bet he does, too, Hannah, but only time will tell. Now, we better get some sleep ourselves if we're gonna get up an' take care a him in the mornin'."
"Yes, ma'am, Miss Leah," Hannah said. She stood in the hallway a few moments after Leah had closed her door. "Yessir, he a real nice man, with real nice eyes."
*************************
"He's in here, doctor," Leah held open the door to the bedroom. "But he's still sleepin'."
The doctor followed her into the room. "That's quite all right, Miss Thomson. I'm sure he'll awaken once I start to examine him. He's just lucky it's a Sunday, or I'd probably be busy with some accident victim up at the mines."
He adjusted his glasses, and set his bag on the table next to the bed. "Would you open those curtains, please? I need some light." Leah opened the curtains covering the window at the foot of the bed. The sunlight glinted off of her flaxen hair, and gave a golden glow to her clear skin. The doctor had taken out his watch and was holding Tom's wrist in his fingers. After a minute, he closed the watch and put it in his pocket. "Well, his pulse is weak and rather fast, but it could be worse." He examined Tom's face and felt his head. Tom moaned slightly, but did not waken."Got quite a bump back there. Hannah tells me he was beaten and robbed behind the hotel?"
Leah nodded.
"Umm-hmm. Well, I'd say he was hit on the head with something hard and heavy at some point. Uh, you might want to turn your back, Miss Thomson." He pulled the blankets down and lifted the nightshirt to examine the rest of Tom's injuries. Tom moaned and muttered in his sleep. The doctor hummed and murmured to himself for several minutes, then said, "You can turn around again." He had tucked the blankets up under Tom's arms and was looking down at him, nodding.
"Not all of this was done with fists, Miss Thomson. It looks as though he was kicked in the ribs and in the back. Nothing broken, but they could be cracked. There is extensive bruising to the kidney area, but it's too soon to tell if there was any internal injury."
Leah shook her head. "I don't understan'. Why would someone beat him so bad? Wouldn't jus' hittin' him over the haid be enough?"
The doctor raised one of Tom's bruised and swollen hands, "My guess would be, it's because he fought back. Made whoever it was mad and out for revenge." He dropped his hand. "What I can't figure is why he doesn't wake up."
Leah blushed. "Mebbe I gave him a little too much whiskey last night. To help him sleep."
The doctor chuckled. "So on top of everything else, he'll have a hangover." He shook his head.
"In that case, I'll just bandage these cuts on his head and his hands while he's out. It'll be easier on both of us." He chuckled and began to smooth some salve onto Tom's face. "Would you mind making a pot of tea, Miss Thomson? I could sure use a cup, and he'll be wanting some when he comes around."
When Leah returned with a cup of tea for the doctor, Tom was awake and glaring up at him from his one open eye. The other eye was swollen shut, and had turned black and blue, as had the other bruises on his face. A white bandage circled his head, and his hands were swathed in more bandages.
The doctor took the cup from Leah and thanked her. "I was just telling this young man here that he'll have to stay in bed three or four days, at least, until we're sure there are no internal injuries. And he's to be on a diet of clear liquids. Plenty of water, weak tea, beef and chicken broth, bland. Nothing solid, and no more whiskey. A little wine, maybe, in a day or two, but nothing stronger."
Tom growled in his throat and mumbled, "No food for a man."
The doctor sipped his tea and chuckled. "It is for a man in your condition. And you're in no condition to argue about it. I'll be back tomorrow to check on you." He finished the tea, and motioned for Leah to follow him out. He closed the door.
"You heard what I said? Liquids only, and a lot of them. No sugar in that tea, no matter what he says. And he's not to get out of bed. He'll find that difficult for a couple of days, anyway. Now, if he starts to vomit, or to cough up blood or to . . ." he paused, searching for the right words. "Or to pass blood in any way, send for me immediately. But the first twenty-four hours are the most critical. If he makes it through to tomorrow morning, it'll just be a matter of time before he's well again."
Leah nodded. "Me an' Hannah'll watch."
"I'm pretty sure his kidneys are bruised, not ruptured, but it's best to be certain. Even at that, it'll take a week or two for him to heal completely. Can you keep him here that long?"
"Yes, doctor."
"Good. I'll be back tomorrow, then. I'll send a boy around with some powders I want you to give him. Give him one every day in a glass of water. And a tonic. Give him two tablespoons of that every six hours."
The doctor shook his head. "He really should have some leeches applied to the area of his kidneys, but they are almost impossible to obtain this far from civilization."
He smiled at her. "Now, don't you worry. He's in good health otherwise, and a young man in his early thirties should be strong enough to recover without them."
After the doctor left, she fixed a cup of tea and took it into Tom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, the nightshirt coming barely to his knees.
"Coulda knocked," he complained between clenched teeth. "Put it there." Leah put the cup of tea on the table. "It's under the bed?"
She nodded and waited.
"Well?" he asked.
"I jus' thought you might need some help."
"No," he said firmly.
She left and went outside to talk to Hannah, who was scrubbing clothes in a large tub. She gave her the doctor's report, then went back in to check on Tom. He was lying back in bed, his eyes closed, the empty tea cup on the table. He opened his eyes as she picked up the cup.
She smiled at him. "Want some more?"
"More sugar this time," he grumbled.
She laughed. "Doc said you'd say that, an' that I wasn't to pay no mind. Now, I'll jus' go make you another cup a tea, an' later on you cain have some chicken broth."
She left and returned quickly with the tea, which she set on the table. Tom touched her on the arm. She looked at him.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Appreciate it. Don't mean to complain."
She laughed again. "Now, I know that, Mister Barkley. Man all beat up like you is, got to be in
some kind a pain. An' that jus' makes a man grumble an' snarl. Don't mean nothin', I know that. Now, you try to get some more sleep. I gotta go buy a chicken to make that broth, and Hannah's jus' outside doin' the warsh, if you need anything."
Tom nodded and closed his eyes. Leah watched for a few minutes until his breathing slowed,
showing that he had fallen asleep. She closed the door quietly and took down her shawl and market basket. On her way out, she stopped and told Hannah to check on Tom every few minutes. Hannah nodded and continued to hang up the clothes she had just washed.
"I done tried my best, Miss Leah," she explained, holding up a man's blue shirt, "But I jus' cain't get all them blood stains outta this shirt."
Leah smiled. "'Course you did, Hannah. An' if you cain't get them out, they cain't be got out.
Cain't hardly see 'em no more anyway. Now, I'll be back jus' as soon as I cain."
When Leah returned, Hannah reported that Tom was sleeping quietly. She had cleaned the room, and emptied the chamber pot, and seen no sign of blood. The boy had come from the doctor with the medicine he had promised to send. Hannah had left it on the counter in the kitchen.
Leah thanked her, and, after checking on Tom herself, spent the rest of the morning in the kitchen cooking. She first boiled a chicken for the broth and reserved some for Tom. She then made a soup from the rest by adding onion, carrots, and parsnips along with the chicken meat, and dropping spoonfuls of dumpling batter on top.
Tom was awake when she came into the room with a bowl full of the broth. She helped him to sit up and placed several pillows behind his back, then sat on the side of the bed and carefully spooned the broth into his mouth. Inevitably, drops of liquid dribbled from between his swollen lips and onto his chin. She gently dabbed at these with a napkin and apologized for being so clumsy.
Tom muttered, "My fault. Just like a baby."
She smiled, "You're doin' jus' fine. In a couple a days, you'll be feedin' yourself an' eatin' real food."
Tom swallowed and nodded. "It's good."
"Thank you, Mister Barkley. It's nice to be cookin' for somebody besides jus' me an' Hannah.
An' men always appreciate good food better than women."
By the time she had finished feeding him, he was slumped back against the pillows. She tucked him back into bed, gave him the medicine according to the doctor's instructions, and left him to sleep for the afternoon. In the evening, Hannah came to feed him more of the broth and give him his medicine.
"Where is she?" Tom asked.
"Miss Leah? She at work at the hotel. She work in the dinin' room there at supper time, takin' orders an' bringin' food, an' she warsh the dishes. She work real hard." Hannah managed to feed Tom and tell him the story of Leah's life all at the same time. "I stays here an' warshes the clothes for the folks at the hotel. So many stay at that hotel. An' I takes care a Miss Leah. I been takin'care a Miss Leah since she a little girl. She just six years ol' when I come to take care a her, when her momma die, and that been most fifteen year ago. I was only sixteen myself, but I's old enough to take care a her. 'Course, she ain't never been no trouble, no trouble 'tall."
"We come out here together 'bout three years ago, from Kentucky, with Mister Simmons an' that wife a his. Miss Leah, she buy this house with some o' the money her daddy leave her. An' now, it all she got since that Mister Sawyer done run off with her money an' got hisself drowned."
Hannah suddenly stopped talking and looked frightened. "I shouldn't a' said nothin' 'bout Mister Sawyer."
"Who?" Tom asked between spoons of soup.
"Nobody, never you mind. He daid now anyway." Hannah finished feeding Tom in silence. Hannah was unusually silent when Leah came home from work that night. She first checked on Tom, and after assuring herself that he was sleeping peacefully, asked Hannah how the evening had gone. Hannah told her that he had eaten well and slept, with no signs of blood or nausea.
Leah told Hannah amusing stories about some of the diners at the hotel while they ate their supper, then they both went to bed, tired from the long hours and additional care demanded of them.
Leah was careful to knock on the door the next morning before she went in. Tom was already awake and sitting up in bed.
"Good mornin', Mister Barkley," she smiled as she handed him his tea. She went to the window and opened the curtains. "It's a fine mornin'."
"Mornin'," he replied, sipping carefully.
"You look like you feel a mite better today."
"Umm-humm. Now it only hurts when I move." Some of the swelling had gone down in his face, and the bruises were turning just a bit green around the edges.
She laughed. "Well, then, don't move so much. But I reckon that's a good sign, means nothin' was hurt too bad. The doc'll be here soon."
Hannah showed the doctor in at that moment. He examined Tom carefully and asked him several questions. He appeared satisfied with the answers, and told them that with a couple of weeks of bed rest, Tom should be fit and able to travel. He instructed them to continue giving him the medications, and suggested that a warm bath everyday would be beneficial, if it could be managed.
After he left, Tom asked to speak to Leah alone. He asked her to close the door.
She stood at the foot of the bed and waited for him to speak. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, and stared at the his toes sticking up under the blankets.
"Really appreciate this," he muttered, "Doc must be costing you something. I'll . . . I'll pay you back soon as I can cash a bank draft. For the doc, and somethin' extra for your trouble. Got money at a bank in Stockton."
Leah looked surprised. "Why, Mister Barkley, what put that idea into your haid? I don't 'spect you to pay me nothin'. I ain't helpin' you so's you cain pay me."
Tom looked even more embarrassed. "Shouldn't say, but Hannah told me about Mister Sawyer running off with your money."
Leah sighed. "Yes, well, that was nigh on to two years ago now. I ain't been able to save much, but I been gettin' by with what I make at the hotel and what Hannah brings in doin' the warsh. We're doin' jus' fine, so don't you worry none 'bout us."
"How'd it happen?"
Leah stared at her hands and sighed again. "Reckon I might's well tell ya'. It ain't no secret, an' I got nothin' to be ashamed of. Charlie Sawyer was my husband. He weren't much to look at, but he shore could make a girl laugh, he was that amusin'. An' I was real young an' missin' my friends and family back home. I don't think he was a bad man, not really, jus' kind of weak when it come to likker an' money. Anyway, we was married 'bout three, maybe four months when he jus' up an' disappeared one night, takin' all the cash money I had. We heard he was drunk an' got drowned tryin' to cross the river up north a ways."
She smiled sadly at Tom. "Anyway, since we was only married such a short time an' didn't have no children, I jus' went back to bein' Leah Thomson. Didn't feel like I'd been married, not really."
"Been anyone else since?"
"You mean, other beaus?" Tom nodded. Leah laughed. "Not in this here town, no sir! Pickin's're pretty slim, if a girl wants a decent, steady sort a fella. Plenty that're jus' out for a good time and what they cain get, but not too many want to do the honorable thing and settle down. I reckon I done learned my lesson there."
She straightened up and smiled brightly.
"Now, I don't want to hear no more talk 'bout payin' me back. You jus' worry 'bout gettin' yourself better. I'll go get your medicine and another cup a tea." She picked up the cup and headed for the door.
"One more thing," Tom stopped her. She looked at him questioningly. "Could you see to my horse at the livery? And bring the saddlebags and rifle?"
"Shore thing, Mister Barkley. I'll take care of that myself when I go to work today. I'll bring them things back with me tonight."
The next week passed quickly, as they slipped into a routine. Leah would awaken Tom every morning with a cup of tea and his medicine. She would often entertain him with a story of some
humorous event at the hotel the evening before. He always laughed at her stories and often asked about some detail of her past. He would sometimes tell her some equally amusing anecdote about people he had known.
She never asked him questions about his personal life, and he never volunteered any new information. He did explain that he had just arrived in Strawberry on the day of the evening that he was robbed. He had won a large pot in a poker game at one of the saloons, and was on his way to get a room at the hotel when he was attacked, most likely by someone who had followed him from the saloon.
Chapter Two
On the fourth day of his convalescence, he allowed Hannah to help him into a wash tub of warm water during the evening while Leah was at work. Hannah made it possible for him to preserve his modesty by draping a large towel across the top of the tub. By the end of the week, he was able to get out of bed and move around the house and bathe himself without assistance. One of the first things he did was to shave. On the doctor's advice, Leah had been gradually adding solid foods to Tom's diet.
That Sunday morning, when she came to wake him up, Tom noticed that she was wearing a dress he had not seen and had tied her hair back with a blue ribbon.
"You're looking mighty pretty today, Miss Thomson," he complimented her. "Is that a new dress?"
She touched her hair, smiled shyly, and smoothed the dress along her thigh. "Oh, no. This is my Sunday go-to-meetin' dress. You bein' so much better an' all, Hannah and me figures we can go off to meetin' an' leave you here on your own. You ain't well enough to be goin' out, but you don't need us hoverin' around all the time. If that's all right with you, a course."
Tom looked surprised. "Is it Sunday already? I hadn't realized. Of course, you two go off to church. I'll be just fine here on my own. In fact, if you'd be so kind as to bring my clothes in, I think I'd like to get dressed and spend the day out of bed for a change. If that's all right with you, of course."
He smiled a crooked little smile at Leah. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously. The swelling had completely subsided, and even with the fading marks of bruises still visible on his face, he was a very handsome man, with strong, regular features.
She beamed at him. "'Course it is. An' mebbe we cain celebrate with a little somethin' special for supper." She paused and looked embarrassed. "I hope you like sweet potato pie. I made it last night, just in case. I grows 'em special jus' so's I cain make them pies for birthdays an' such." She smiled shyly again as she slipped out the door, leaving it open.
"Why, Miss Thomson, it's one of my favorites," Tom called after her. She was back in a moment with his clothes, and he continued, "And if you made it, it's sure to be the best sweet potato pie I've ever had."
She blushed and smiled as she laid his clothes and saddlebags at the foot of the bed. "Well, I'll jus leave this here. You didn't have no hat on when we found you. Reckon it's lost now." She stood uncertainly for a moment. "We'll be off then. Guess we'll be back in an hour or so, an' we cain eat 'bout an hour after that."
When they got back from church, Tom was dressed and sitting in a chair at the table drinking a cup of coffee. Leah hung up her shawl and busied herself with preparations for dinner. She had left a large pot of white bean and ham hock soup simmering on the back of the stove. She mixed together the ingredients for corn bread and slid the pan into the oven. Hannah moved quietly around the room, setting the dishes on the table and putting out pickles and bottled fruit.
Tom asked about the meeting and the sermon, and seemed very impressed with Hannah's ability to quote scripture from memory. She and Leah also sang several of their favorite hymns for him as they waited for the cornbread to finish baking, Hannah's strong alto overpowering Leah's high, sweet soprano.
As soon as the bread was baked, Leah served the soup and they all sat down to eat. She advised Tom to eat slowly and to be careful not to eat too much. He nodded and smiled, and said that he would make a point of leaving room for the sweet potato pie. Finally, he put down his fork and leaned back from the table.
"Miss Thomson, I can honestly say that I have not enjoyed a meal so much in a very long time. And if I may say so, as good as the food is, the company is even better. So pleasant and charming." He smiled at the two ladies. Leah blushed. Hannah smiled and looked pleased. She stood up and started to clear the table.
"Miss Leah, why don't you and Mister Barkley go set on the porch a spell? I cain finish up here, an' it's too fine a day to waste."
"Miss James I mean, Hannah, that's an excellent idea. Shall we, Miss Thomson?" Tom stood and offered his arm to Leah. She took his arm with a smile. Hannah watched them walk out, a dreamy look on her face.
"A very nice man," she murmured to herself.
Tom sat carefully in the large rocking chair on the porch. Leah pulled up a straight back chair and sat next to him. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
"Miss Thomson, would you mind singing to me? I can't think of anything that I'd rather do than sit here on this porch and listen to you sing. I don't remember the last time I felt quite this comfortable and this peaceful, and I would truly like to just sit here and enjoy the feeling."
"What should I sing?" Leah asked.
"Anything you like. Whatever it is will be just fine." Tom rocked slowly.
Leah thought for a moment, then began to sing softly:
How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood
When fond recollection presents them to view
The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood,
And ev'ry loved spot which my infancy knew
The wide spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well.
The old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket,
The moss covered bucket that hung in the well.
The moss covered bucket I hailed as a treasure,
For often at noon, when returned from the field.
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing,
And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell
Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well.
The old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket,
The moss covered bucket that hung in the well.
Tom began to hum softly in the middle of the second verse, and joined in the last chorus. He smiled a fond, crooked smile at Leah and reached out and took her hand in his without a word. She smiled back. He closed his eyes and, continuing to hum the song, soon dozed off. Leah sat and watched him sleep, her hand nestled in his.
During the next week, Tom Barkley's physical condition visibly improved daily. On Monday, when Leah went downstairs to make coffee before calling him, he was already up and dressed and had started the fire in the stove. This became his practice every day after that. He would have the fire going, and a pot of coffee on to boil when she came down the stairs. After breakfast, he and Leah would often sit on the porch and talk, or he would ask her to sing for him. On the days that Hannah was doing laundry, the two woman would sing hymns and ballads together. As the week progressed, Tom and Leah would go for short walks through the woods at the outside of town. He often commented on how quiet and peaceful it was living there, and on how calm and relaxed he felt. He slept through much of the afternoon while she was at work.
Hannah would have supper waiting every night when Leah got home from work, and after eating, Tom would insist on helping Leah wash and put away the dishes. On Thursday, he walked with her into town, and left her at the hotel. He went to the bank where he cashed a draft, then to the livery stable, where he paid the bill that was owing and arranged for his horse to be kept at least until the end of the month. He stopped at the general store and bought a new hat to replace the one that had been lost, and several other articles of clothing. He spent several hours at the mine office, then went to the telegraph office and sent a wire to Stockton, before going back to Leah's house. When Leah got home from work that night, there was stack of split wood piled on the porch, and Tom was at work nailing some loose treads on the staircase.
"Mister Barkley, there's no call for you to do that," she exclaimed in delight.
Tom sat on a step and grinned at her. "A man needs something to do with himself. I can't just sit around all day and do nothing now that, thanks to your excellent care, I'm almost completely healed."
She blushed at the compliment. "Jus' promise me you won't do anything that'll undo all that care."
He looked down at his hands. "Oh, I don't know. I might be glad of an excuse to stay here a while longer." He looked up at her inquisitively.
She blushed and smiled. "You don't need no excuse. You're welcome as long as you want."
"In that case," he stood up. "There are a few other things that need doing around here, and I intend to do them. One way or the other, I'm going to earn my keep." He slid his arm around Leah's waist and walked her to the table for supper.
************************
When Leah got to work the next night, her brother called her into his office. "Leah, could I see you a minute?" He held the door open.
She walked in, a curious look on her face. Matt shut the door behind her. He put his hands in his vest pockets and rocked on his heels.
"I hear Tom Barkley was in town yesterday." She nodded, an uncertain look still on her face. "That must mean that he's pretty much healed up." She nodded again.
Matt sighed. "Leah, I know you're a grown woman, a widow even, but I am your brother and, well, . . . when he was confined to bed, that was one thing, but now . . . there's bound to be talk, and you know a woman can't afford to lose her reputation." He looked slightly embarrassed as he spoke.
Leah stiffened. "What're you sayin', Matt? What'a you mean, lose my reputation? I cain't believe what I'm hearin'."
He reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "Now, Leah, calm down. I ain't sayin' you done anything wrong, I ain't even sayin' you're gonna do anything wrong. I'm just sayin' folks will talk, what with you and a healthy man livin' in the same house. Maybe it'd be better if he come to stay here."
"Talk!" Leah spat out the word. "Let'em talk. People oughta know me better than that by now. An' Tom Barkley's a fine man, wouldn't do nothin' improper. An' it ain't jus' me and him,
neither. Hannah's there, too. An' I ain't askin' him to leave. That'd be like me sayin' I think there's truth in them rumors. Now, I got work to do."
She stormed out and slammed the door. Matt sighed and shook his head. He looked worried. Leah was still angry when she got home that night, but she did her best not to let Tom see that anything was wrong. After supper, while she was washing the dishes and he was drying them, she said suddenly, "I know! Tomorra's Saturday, and I don't have to work. How 'bout I make us up some fried chicken and we go on a picnic? S'posed to be a real nice day."
Tom smiled and nodded, "Sounds wonderful. I'll hire a buggy from the livery. Then we can go for a nice long drive."
"Oh, no, ain't no call for you to do that," Leah protested, looking pleased. "I want to, and I insist on it." Tom turned to Hannah. "What do you say, Hannah? Should I hire a buggy to take us on that picnic?"
Hannah smiled sweetly at him. "Why, that's real nice a you, Mister Barkley. I think that's a fine idea, jus' fine. But you an' Miss Leah have to go without me. I promise to go help Miss Caulfield finish some shirts. She took sick last week, and got behind, so I say I help her finish them tomorrow."
"You shore, Hannah?" asked Leah. "You shore you cain't come with us?"
"Oh, no, Miss Leah. I promise. But I cain help you fry up that chicken in the mornin'. I don' have to be there 'til later." She smiled at Leah.
"All right, then, it's set," said Tom. "I'll go out in the morning and hire the buggy while you ladies prepare the food."
He smiled down at Leah, who was glowing with happiness. They left just before noon the next day. Tom split wood and worked around the outside of the house while the women cooked during the morning. Leah packed a picnic basket, but other than the fried chicken, refused to tell Tom what was in it. She insisted that it was to be a surprise. They drove out of town and followed the road into the woods. It wound through the stands of pines with their bright green needles and cones just starting to ripen and past the groves of oak and maple, their branches standing starkly naked against the clear blue of the November sky. Eventually, it followed the course of a small stream that flowed down the mountain to a larger river below. They continued along the path of the stream until they came to a large, flat, grassy area. Tom pulled the horses to a halt. He got down, then helped Leah out of the buggy. He tied the horses to a nearby tree, then carried the picnic basket and a blanket down to the stream bank. He spread out the blanket while Leah unpacked the picnic basket. She set out the fried chicken, several kinds of pickled vegetables, apples, and a jug of cider. She laughed and pushed him away playfully when Tom tried to look in the basket to see what the surprise was. She sat with her feet tucked under her, while Tom lounged on his side on the blanket. After they had eaten their fill of chicken, pickles, and fruit, Leah cleaned up the scraps and put them away in the basket. She then carefully lifted out a pie tin and presented it to Tom. He looked at it in some confusion.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I know what this is," he said apologetically.
Leah was crestfallen. "It's a real treat back in Kaintucky. It's a brown sugar pie."
"A brown sugar pie?" Tom said apprehensively. "I have never had brown sugar pie." He chucked Leah under the chin. "But, from the sounds of it, I'll love it. You know how I like sugar in my coffee."
She grinned, "An' in your tea. I must a heard it three times a day for 'most a week, 'More sugar next time.' That's why I figured you'd like this here brown sugar pie."
She cut it into wedges and handed him one. She watched him intently as he ate the first bite. He rolled the pie around in his mouth, savoring it, then chewed and swallowed. "Why, Miss Thomson, I didn't know such a thing existed. You'd better cut yourself a piece right now, because I intend to eat every bit I can get my hands on." She laughed and did as he suggested. Although he did not finish the pie, he did eat two pieces immediately. After he finished the second piece, he rolled over on his back and put his hands behind his head. He took off his hat and set it on the blanket beside him.
"Sing to me, Leah," he commanded.
She laughed. "You are the singin'est man I ever did see!" He smiled wryly. "I don't often get to lie back and just listen to a lovely lady sing for me alone."
She ducked her head and smiled. "Well, I don't rightly know what to sing." She thought for a moment. "This here's one a my gramma's favorites, an' for some reason it's been on my mind lately." She hummed to herself for a moment.
Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago,
Sing me the songs I delighted to hear,
Long, long ago, long ago,
Now you are come all my grief is removed,
Let me forget that so long you have roved.
Let me believe that you love as you loved,
Long, long ago, long ago.
Do you remember the paths where we met?
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
Ah, yes, you told me you'd never forget,
Long, long ago, long ago.
Then to all others, my smile you preferred,
Love, when you spoke, gave a charm to each word.
Still my heart treasures the phrases I heard,
Long, long ago, long ago.
Tho' by your kindness my fond hopes were raised,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
You by more eloquent lips have been praised,
Long, long ago, long ago,
But, by long absence your truth has been tried,
Still to your accents I listen with pride,
Blessed as I was when I sat by your side.
Long, long ago, long ago.
"I think I finally know the meaning of contentment," he said softly. Leah smiled. "Yeah, it's nice out here, ain't it?" She tilted her head back to catch a stray breeze in her hair. Her hair glistened in the sun and her skin glowed, golden and healthy. Tom looked at her pensively. "What do you want from life, Leah?"
She looked startled. "What do I want? Don't know's I ever gave it much thought." She ran her had through the grass and didn't meet his gaze. "Jus' the sorts of things mos' people wants, I reckon. A family 'round me to love and take care of, nice place to live, good food to eat. Friends, a course."
He shook his head. "That's all?"
"What else is there?" she asked in genuine surprise.
He smiled grimly. "Wealth, power, position. Land and all that goes with it. Do you want any of those things, Leah?"
She shook her head and laughed, "Now, what would a girl like me be doin' with them things, Mister Barkley? I wouldn't hardly know how to live."
He reached over and took her hand. He caressed it gently for a moment, then looked up to find her smiling lovingly at him.
"Leah, I . . ." he stopped. He sighed. "I think we'd better get back. It gets dark early."
They packed up the picnic things in a comfortable silence. Tom stored them in the buggy, then lifted Leah up. He held her somewhat longer than was necessary, and she did not protest. He climbed into the other seat, took the reigns, and started the horses back toward Strawberry. Leah slowly relaxed against him and laid her head against his arm. He looked down at her, troubled. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing regular. He drove on, staring straight ahead. The sun was slowly slipping below the horizon. After a some time, he seemed to come to a decision. He slowed the horses, then slipped one arm around Leah and settled her more comfortably in the crook of his arm. He smiled peacefully, and drove the rest of the way home with only one hand on the reigns. It was dark by the time they arrived.
He shook her gently. "Leah, sweetheart, we're home."
She blinked her eyes and smiled. He lifted her down and sent her into the house. He followed her with the blanket and basket. Hannah was waiting just inside the door with a lighted lamp.
"I'll just take the buggy back to the livery," he said. Leah nodded. He caressed her shoulder, then, as if on an impulse, he kissed her on the top of her head, and left quickly.
"Oh, Miss Leah," Hannah breathed. "I's so happy for you. 'Bout time you got yourself a man.
An' he's fine man."
Leah nodded and smiled dreamily. She sank into a chair at the table. "Oh, Hannah, he's everthing I ever wanted."
Hannah nodded. She set the lamp on the table, then unpacked the picnic basket, washed the dirty dishes, and put everything away. Tom returned just as she was finishing. She smiled at him and Leah, lit two candles, took one, and headed up the stairs.
Tom walked over to Leah, put his hands on her arms, and raised her out of the chair. "I'll see you in the morning, beautiful lady," he said and leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth.
She nodded and smiled. He stood and followed her with his eyes as she walked up the stairs, the candle creating a halo of light around her. A look of great peace and tranquility crossed his face. He picked up the lamp and went into his room.
Chapter Three
Leah floated down the stairs the next morning, wearing her Sunday best with a blue ribbon in her hair. She stopped on the bottom step and looked shyly around at Tom, standing at the stove putting the coffee on.
He turned, smiled, and held out his arms, "Good morning, Leah."
"Oh, good mornin', Tom," she almost sang as she ran across the room into his arms. She stretched her mouth up to his, and he bent his head and kissed her softly. She nestled back in his arms and sighed deeply.
"Mornin', Miss Leah," Hannah called as she walked down the stairs. Leah turned, but kept one arm around Tom's waist.
"Good mornin', Hannah," she smiled at her.
Tom nodded, "Good morning, Hannah."
"Mornin', Mister Tom," Hannah replied. She smiled beatifically upon them. "You comin' to meetin' with us this mornin'?"
Tom shook his head and smiled, "No, I don't think so, Hannah. I'm not much of a church goer."
Leah laughed and hugged him. "No, you menfolk never is. That's a job for us women, I reckon."
When they were gone, Tom shook his head and stood lost in thought for several minutes. Finally, he shrugged, and, picking up a few hand tools, he went outside to do some repairs on the porch. After the women returned from church and they had all eaten Sunday dinner, Hannah once again insisted that they leave the dishes for her and enjoy the late November sunshine. Leah pulled a shawl around her shoulders, and she and Tom went for a long walk. They held hands and talked about everything and nothing. Tom instructed Leah on points of natural history, on the flora and fauna and geography of Strawberry, things he had not thought of in years, except in connection with business or finance. Leah listened attentively, smiling and nodding and laughing when appropriate. They wandered back home just before dark, in time to eat the simple supper that Hannah had prepared.
She shooed them out again to sit on the porch. Tom sat in the rocking chair and lifted Leah onto his lap. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart that was echoed by the motion of the rocking chair.
Tom played with a strand of her hair. "Sing to me, Leah."
She sat up. "Sittin' out here, with the moon an' all, puts me in mind of a song my gramma used to sing. It's kind of a sad song, but it's a pretty one."
Twas a calm, still night,
And the moon's pale light
Shone soft o'er hill and vale;
When friends mute with grief
Stood around the deathbed
Of my poor lost Lilly Dale.
Oh! Lilly, sweet Lilly,
Dear Lilly Dale,
Now the wild rose blossoms
O'er her little green grave
'Neath the trees in the flow'ry vale.
Her cheeks that once glowed
With the rose tint of health,
By the hand of disease
Had turned pale,
And the death damp
Was on the pure white brow
Of my poor lost Lilly Dale.
Oh! Lilly, sweet Lilly,
Dear Lilly Dale,
Now the wild rose blossoms
O'er her little green grave
'Neath the trees in the flow'ry vale.
I go, she said
To the land of rest,
And ere my strength shall fail,
I must tell you where,
Near my own loved home,
You must lay Lilly Dale.
Oh! Lilly, sweet Lilly,
Dear Lilly Dale,
Now the wild rose blossoms
O'er her little green grave
'Neath the trees in the flow'ry vale.
'Neath the chestnut tree,
Where the wild flow'rs grow,
And the stream ripples forth
Thro' the vale,
Where the birds shall warble
Their songs in spring,
There lay poor Lilly Dale.
Oh! Lilly, sweet Lilly,
Dear Lilly Dale,
Now the wild rose blossoms
O'er her little green grave
'Neath the trees in the flow'ry vale.
When she had finished, she lay back down against Tom's chest. "You're right," he said meditatively, "It is sad, and it is pretty. Very pretty. And very sad." They sat quietly until Hannah called them in to go to bed. Tom kissed Leah, and watched her walk up to the second floor. At the top of the stairs, she turned and smiled at him, then went into her room. Only then did he turn and go into his.
The pattern of their lives changed subtly after that day. Tom still lit the stove and put the coffee on, but Leah was downstairs almost as soon as his door opened. She would greet him with a kiss, and watch him while he made the coffee. Hannah would come down several minutes later, closing her door loudly and firmly. There were always repairs to make on the house or its out buildings, and wood to chop and split. Leah followed Tom around as he worked, chattering happily, handing him tools and materials, giving him any help he requested. More than once, when they finished for the morning, he remarked how much he missed doing this kind of work; how satisfying it was to be able to see a problem and fix it immediately with your own hands and know that it was fixed. She always apologized for not being able to pay him, and he always told her that her gratitude and a smile was all the payment he wanted.
Hannah watched them as she worked at the wash tub, and smiled and nodded to herself. She would quietly prepare the midday meal, then call them when it was ready. Leah always apologized for not helping, and Hannah always insisted that she didn't need help. Hannah and Tom would be waiting for Leah when she came home from work at night. They would sit around the table and talk and eat a bite of supper. Leah continued to share amusing stories of the diners at the hotel, which Tom always enjoyed. She never asked him how he had spent his time while she was gone, and he never mentioned the visits he had made to the mine and the mine office on several occasions. Hannah would do the dishes, then go upstairs, leaving the other two alone. Leah would slip onto Tom's lap and rest her head on his shoulder. He would stroke her hair and lay soft kisses on the top of her head. Eventually, Leah would sigh and say that it was time for her to get upstairs. Then Tom would tilt her head back and kiss her gently, but firmly, on the mouth.
On Friday, Leah came home to find a wrapped package sitting on the table next to a small cake. "What's this?" she asked, smiling expectantly.
Tom lead her over to the table. "If I remember correctly, it was three weeks ago today that you, lovely lady, saved my life. This is my poor attempt at saying, 'Thank you.'" He handed her the package. "I know it doesn't begin to be enough." She opened the package. Her eyes grew wide as she lifted out an elegant and stylish woman's hat, decorated with feathers and flowers and bits of tulle. She perched the hat on her head and turned to Hannah.
"Oh, Hannah, have you ever seen anythin' like it? Ain't it just the most beautiful hat?" She tilted and turned her head.
"Miss Leah, you looks so pretty. It shore does suit you." Hannah smiled at her and at Tom. Leah turned to Tom, "I ain't never had nothin' so fine in all my life."
He gazed into her rapt face, "You deserve such things, Leah, and more."
They stood lost in each other for several moments. Then Leah laughed and removed the hat. "Reckon I better put this where it won't get dirty."
"Oh, let me do that, Miss Leah," Hannah held out her hands. She took the hat and went upstairs. Leah waited until she was out of the room, then quickly kissed Tom. "Thank you, Tom."
"It is I who should be thanking you, Leah."
She smiled at him, then looked at the table. "An' what's this here?" "I stopped at the bakery. I thought a little celebration was in order, so I picked up a cake. If you'll cut it, I'll pour the coffee."
She shook her head in amazement. "This here's better'n a birthday. I ain't never had no hat so fine, and I ain't never ate no store bought cake just for no reason. You're too good to me, Tom."
The cake was dark and rich, full of nuts and fruit. Hannah came down just as Leah was putting the slices onto plates. After they had eaten, she once again insisted on washing up, then went straight up to her room.
As usual, Leah slid onto Tom's lap. "You happy here, Tom?" she asked.
"Very happy, Leah," he answered as he stroked her hair.
"You want to stay here?" she asked again.
"Yes, Leah, I would very much like to stay here."
"That's good. I want you to stay."
He bent his head and kissed her on her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and responded to his kiss with a passion that she had not shown before. He pulled her closer, and met her passion with his. Slowly, their lips parted. He set her carefully on her feet, then stood and guided her toward his room. At the door, she stopped and looked up at him.
"You know I loves you, Tom," she said in a husky whisper.
"I know, Leah," he answered softly.
Later, as they lay quietly in his bed, arms wrapped around each other, her head on his shoulder, he whispered very softly, "And I love you, Leah."
She nodded and sighed, "I been so lonely, Tom."
"I know," he whispered, "but you won't be lonely any more."
He shifted, so he was lying on his back, one arm over his head, and stared at the ceiling. His fingers caressed her shoulder, but he didn't look at her or speak.
After a time, she asked quietly, "What you thinkin'?"
He looked at her. His lips twitched in a somber smile. "About some business in Stockton. I'll have to go there soon to take care of it."
"Cain I come, too? Ain't never been to Stockton."
He didn't say anything for a minute. "No, no, I don't think that would be wise. It's a long trip, and I don't know how long it will take me. It's kind of complicated."
"When you goin'?"
"I have to be there before Christmas, so I should leave in the next couple of weeks." He kissed her again. "Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. You just go to sleep." She kissed him and sat up. "Reckon I better get up to my own bed. Wouldn't want Hannah to find me here in the mornin'."
She slipped her dress over her head, picked up the rest of her things, then kissed him one more time before slipping quietly out of the room. She did not hear the soft footstep at the top of the stairs or the careful closing of a door.
Tom lay awake, staring at the ceiling, until just before dawn.
Leah glided through the next two weeks as in a dream. She went to her work at the hotel as usual and performed the motions of serving meals and washing dishes, but she seemed distant and distracted. Matt watched with concern, but said nothing. She was as lively and cheerful as ever in the mornings, and seemed to wake up again in the evenings when she got home to Tom. Hannah continued to go up to her room shortly after supper, and Leah never saw her watching from the top of the stairs those times that she slipped out of Tom's room at night. Leah came home from work that first Monday to the smell of rabbit stew simmering on the stove.
"Why, Hannah," she exclaimed. "Where'd you get that rabbit? We haven't had rabbit stew since . . . well, since I don't remember when."
Hannah smiled placidly and nodded toward Tom, who was sitting in the only armchair, smiling with pleasure.
"Mister Tom, he done brung it in. He went out right after you lef'. He pick up that rifle a his, and he says to me, 'Hannah, how'd you an' Miss Leah like some fresh meat for supper tonight?' An' I says, 'Mister Tom, Miss Leah shore does love a nice rabbit stew.' An' then he lef', an' come back later with this here rabbit, an' he even skin and dress it himself."
Leah darted across the room and hugged Tom as he sat in the chair.
"You are too good to me, Tom," she said again.
He gathered her onto his lap and laughed. "I told you I would earn my keep one way or the other. And, to tell you the truth, I enjoyed it. I haven't had time to just go out and hunt rabbits for a long time. I loved to do that when I was a boy. I was glad to see I hadn't lost my aim."
He brushed her hair back from her forehead, "If you had some tackle around this place, I believe I could even find time to sit and wait for some fish to impale himself upon a hook."
Leah laughed, "If that means you'd go fishin', I shore wish we did. But Hannah and me don't do much in that way."
"Well, then, game it will have to be," Tom concluded, laughing with her.
Every night after that there was fresh meat for the table. Rabbit stew, pigeon pie, roast grouse or duck, all from game that Tom brought in and root vegetables grown in the garden behind the house.
One particular morning, Tom left before anyone else was awake, and returned in mid-morning. He was carrying a small yearling buck over his shoulders.
Leah was watching for him from the front door of the house. When she saw him coming, she ran out onto the porch, and called to Hannah, "Hannah, come see what Tom's brung us!"
She clasped her hands and called to Tom, "Oh, Tom, how did you know I's partial to venison?"
He smiled at her as he approached, "Leah, if I brought back a scrawny squirrel, you'd tell me that was your favorite."
"Stewed up with some onions and carrots and taters, squirrel can be mighty tasty, Tom, but it don't compare to a nice roast venison, or deer stew."
He shook his head and laughed. "Well, I hope you still feel that way by the time we eat through this. I looked for a small one, but there's still a lot of meat there for three people. I just hope none of it goes bad before we can eat it."
"Why, we'll just share it around is what we'll do," Leah said excitedly. "Hannah can take some to
Miss Caulfield, an' Matt, he likes venison near as much as I do, and Parson'll know some that can use it."
"Isn't that just like you, Leah?" Tom said. "If that's what you want to do, that's what we'll do. But we get the first roast, agreed?"
Leah nodded and agreed gladly.
************************
That Sunday morning, five weeks after Leah had found him beaten and bleeding in the alley, Tom announced that he would be leaving for Stockton the next day. Leah blanched and looked at him with fear in her eyes.
He shook his head and patted her on the cheek. "Don't look like that, dearest," he said. "I told you all along I had business in Stockton, and that I would be leaving before Christmas."
"I know, Tom," she answered, biting her lip. "It's jus', it seems so soon. An' I'll miss you so much while you're gone."
"I won't be gone long," he promised. "Only as long as it takes. I'll be back as soon as I can." He smiled a soft crooked smile at her. "Now, you and Hannah go off to church. I'll see you when you get back."
She nodded and smiled and managed not to cry. She put on her new hat, as she had done for the past two Sundays, and walked out with Hannah. While they were gone, Tom cut and split the wood that remained in the woodshed. He was just finishing when they returned. For the rest of the day, Leah smiled more often and laughed more readily than was usual. They followed their regular habit of dinner and a walk. Hannah went up to bed early, complaining of a headache. It was too cold to sit out on the porch, so they snuggled up next to the stove. Tom asked Leah to sing one last song for him.
She smiled sadly. "I cain't think of but one song, but I'll sing it if you wants me to."
Tom nodded.
She sang softly, so as not to disturb Hannah,
O can't you see yon little turtle dove
Sitting under the mulberry tree?
See how that she doth mourn for her true love:
And I shall mourn for thee, my dear,
And I shall mourn for thee.
O fare thee well, my little turtle dove,
And fare thee well for a-while;
But though I go I'll surely come again,
If I go ten thousand mile, my dear,
If I go ten thousand mile.
Ten thousand mile is very far away,
For you to return to me,
You leave me here to lament, and well-a-day!
My tears you will not see, my love,
My tears you will not see.
The crow that's black, my little turtle dove,
Shall change its color white;
Before I'm false to the maiden I love,
The noon-day shall be night, my dear,
The noon-day shall be night.
The hills shall fly, my little turtle dove,
The roaring billows burn,
Before my heart shall suffer me to fail,
Or I a traitor turn, my dear,
Or I a traitor turn.
Tom kissed her. "It was the perfect song, my dear." He led her to his room.
************************
As she sat up to leave, he said, "Don't go."
"What?"
"Stay, don't go."
"But, Hannah . . ."
"You can go up in the morning. I've got to leave before sunrise. You can go up after I leave."
She nodded and nestled down against his side. She was soon asleep, but he again kept silent vigil for several hours. In the morning, she watched him as he quietly and quickly dressed. He picked up his saddle bags and rifle, leaned down to kiss her one more time, whispered, "I'll be back as soon as I can," and quietly crept out of the room and out of the house.
When Hannah came downstairs, Leah was dressed and sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee.
"Mornin', Miss Leah," she said quietly.
"Mornin', Hannah," she answered. "He's gone, Hannah."
"I know, Miss Leah. But he comin' back, he say he comin' back."
She smiled sadly, "Yes, he's comin' back. He promised."
She looked across the room. "Hannah, I think I'll sleep down here from now on, leastways, until he comes back."
Chapter Four
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. The routine of their public lives did not change. Leah still went every afternoon to work in the hotel dining room and kitchen, Hannah continued to do laundry for the guests. But their private lives followed a new pattern. Every morning, Leah would say to Hannah, "Today's the day, Hannah, I jus' know today's the day."
And Hannah would answer, "Maybe it is, Miss Leah, maybe it is."
As the time passed, a note of anxiety entered into her voice, and the statement became a question, "Do you it could be today, Hannah?" And Hannah would answer, "It could be, Miss Leah, it shore could be."
Finally, one morning in mid-March, the question became frantic and desperate, "When, Hannah, when is he coming back? When?" She laid her head on the table and sobbed.
"Miss Leah, what's wrong? Why you cryin'?" Hannah sat next to her and stroked her hair. "You ain't never cried like this in all this tiem. You tell jus' ol' Hannah what's ailin' you."
Leah lifted her head and buried it on Hannah's shoulder, "Oh, Hannah, I'm gonna have a baby. I'm gonna have his baby, and he ain't come back."
"Oh, my, oh, my," Hannah closed her eyes in pain and rocked Leah gently. "What we gonna do? What we gonna do?"
"What can I do?" Leah asked between her sobs. "Nuthin' but wait, jus' sit here an' wait."
"But, Miss Leah," Hannah paused, "Don't you reckon maybe it be better if we leaves this place?
Goes to some place where ain't nobody knows us? We jus' tells 'em you a widda woman. That's shore true enough, and that this here's your daid husband's baby. You be's Leah Sawyer agin' an' this baby be named Sawyer. That Mister Sawyer, he ain't gonna be comin' 'round to say no diff'rent."
Leah had pulled back from Hannah and was staring at her almost in horror. "I cain't do that! What'll Tom do when he come back and I ain't here? How he gonna find me? An' this here be his baby, not Mister Sawyer's baby. It's my baby an' it's his baby, an' I'll never put no other name to it."
Hannah looked frightened and worried, "But, Miss Leah, what if, what if he ain't comin' back?"
Leah jumped up. She clenched her fists and shouted, "He