A Truth Revealed (The Heart of Cheyenne #3)

Chapter 9

9

Will was relieved to sit in the leather wingback chair rather than be propped up in the bed. Curtis had helped him to get into the chair and put his leg and foot up on the ottoman. It took another pillow under his leg to make things comfortable, but Will found it improved his spirits.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he considered what his future might hold. His plans to work with the Indians used to be so clear, but now he didn’t know what he wanted to do. The Indians were responsible for killing his mother and sister. How could he possibly go and work alongside them after what had happened? What if he even ended up assigned to the very men who killed his family? His anger at the thought of anyone attacking innocent stagecoach passengers was enough to make him desire revenge rather than sharing the Gospel.

For days now, Will had tried to pray about the matter, but he couldn’t move beyond the anger he felt toward God. Why bother to pray? He had prayed for his mother and Sally, and it did them no good.

I don’t understand any of this. None of it makes sense. Why were those people allowed to die? They didn’t do anything wrong.

Will had heard that there was a strongbox aboard the stage. That, along with other possessions from the passengers, had been taken. The driver and his guard had both been armed with rifles as well as revolvers. Those were gone, and they were dead. There had been a fine saddle on top with the luggage. That was missing, and the luggage had all been riffled through. The contents left behind had been strewn on the snowy roadside.

Will could picture it all, including the way the people had been left to die. Edward had given him the details as best he could when Will insisted that he needed to know. Will had been certain it would help ease his mind to understand the way things had happened, but it didn’t.

The Indians—most figured they were Sioux, from the arrows left behind—had come charging at the stagecoach. The driver and guard had been killed first, causing the horses to go out of control. The passengers who had weapons returned fire. Apparently they weren’t very good shots, however, because while there had been a bit of blood found in the snow, Edward said there were no additional bodies, and so the sheriff figured the blood had been left by one of the victims when they were tossed out of the stage and searched.

Whether Edward lied about the situation regarding Will’s mother and sister, Will didn’t know, but the deputy said they’d been treated in a most humane fashion. Each had been shot once in the heart with guns. Where the men had been scalped, the women had been untouched and left in their seats in the stagecoach. They had been searched and their purses taken, as well as their jewelry. Mother’s wedding ring and her grandmother’s emerald ring, which she always wore, were missing. As was Sally’s necklace and the pearl ring their parents had given her on her eighteenth birthday.

The necklace had been a gift from Will on Sally’s last birthday. She had been so enthralled with the inscribed gold locket that she pledged to never take it off. Each time Will had seen her after that, the necklace had been prominently displayed around her neck. He’d shared all this information with Edward and promised to write to his aunt Willa in Mississippi to see if the two were carrying anything else of value. He’d still not managed to work up the courage to write that letter.

How could he tell his aunt that her beloved younger sister was dead? That her niece had been slain at her side by savages? That his insistence they come to Cheyenne had put them in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it resulted in their death?

His head pounded, and he pressed his hands on either side to ease the pressure. What was he to do? How could he ever make any of this right?

Perhaps he should send word to Mr. Blevins and tell him that he’d changed his mind regarding the reservation work. He didn’t see how he could move forward, but at the same time, he didn’t know how he could walk away. This was something he’d wanted since he was a boy and heard his grandfather’s and father’s stories about working with the native peoples. His mother’s and sister’s deaths weren’t the result of all Indians, just a handful of malcontents who had plotted and carried out the attack.

There were good Indians and bad, just as there were good and bad white men. Will could hardly blame all tribes and their numbers for the actions of a few. But at the moment, he felt an overwhelming hatred for everyone. The Indians for the attack. The stage driver and his helper for not having been wiser or more alert. The men in the coach who weren’t good shots, and frankly anyone else who had even the most remote role in what had taken place.

He even wanted to hate Laura for her part in running him down, but he couldn’t bring himself to that. He didn’t know why he wanted to hate her, except that her presence reminded him of what he’d lost. She offered the kind of tenderness and gentle healing that his mother would have given. In fact, Laura reminded him a great deal of his mother. He nearly smiled at the thought of how Laura refused to be put off by him. His mother would have been the same way. She would have ignored his whining and growling, and followed it up with a stern reminder that there were folks elsewhere who had it worse than he did. But this time, Will wasn’t sure that was true.

A light knock sounded on the door, and Laura swept into the room. She had her dark auburn hair carefully pinned in place and had donned a dark navy skirt and matching jacket. Her white blouse was trimmed with ruffled lace down the front, and she’d pinned a cameo at the base of her throat.

“Good morning, Will,” she said, moving to the window to open the drapes. “You simply must see the day. It’s so bright and beautiful. There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”

“I have a headache.”

She stopped midstep. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’m sorry. I’ll leave the drapes closed.” She moved to the fireplace and stirred up the burning wood before adding a log. Once there was a roaring blaze, she stepped back and turned once again to face him. “I hope you are staying warm enough.”

“It’s been fine. Mrs. Duffy checks on it every hour.”

“She’s a wonderful lady. So capable,” Laura replied, com ing to where he sat. “Are you ready to return to bed? I can call for Curtis.”

“Maybe in a little while. I’m trying to push myself to endure a little more each day.”

“My friends from church are coming here in a few minutes. They’re all ladies that you know, and they want to pop in to say hello and let you know that they’re praying for you. After that, I’ll serve lunch. We can set you up at the table with us if you really want to push yourself.”

“No, I wouldn’t be good company. I’d just as soon eat here alone.”

“Very well.” She felt his forehead. “I’m so glad you’ve no fever. The doctor was quite worried about infection, but I would say we no longer have to worry about that. You’re healing nicely from the surgery. I know you’re still having headaches and the light still bothers you. Is there anything else that is causing you trouble? What about the nausea?”

“It comes and goes. Mostly it’s not a problem. I’m fine.” He thought again of his mother. She would be appalled at how badly he had been treating Laura.

“And what of the ribs and incision? Has the pain lessened there?”

“I still feel all bruised up inside but not as swollen. Of course, it hurts when I move because of the broken ribs.”

“Yes, it will take some time before those mend, but I think you’re making good progress.” Laura moved toward the door. “If you have need of anything, just ring the bell. I will be very close at hand.”

“Wait!” He hadn’t meant to call out in such a panicked tone and hurried to continue. “I want to apologize for the way I’ve been acting.” He paused and thought carefully about what he wanted to say.

“I’m not at all myself, and while that’s still no excuse for rudeness ... well, I have no other explanation. I do appreciate what you’ve done for me. I know I would have been stuck in that hospital with minimal care had you not taken up my cause.”

Laura smiled, and his breath caught. Maybe it was just the broken ribs, but whatever it was, Will was momentarily unable to breathe. He gave a cough and straightened.

She frowned and moved to his side. “I really do think we should get you back to bed. You can get up again this afternoon after you have lunch and take a nap. I’ll make sure of it. But for now, you should rest. When the ladies come, I’ll see to it that they don’t visit you for too long.”

She went to the remade bed and pulled down the covers. “I’ll go get Curtis to help.”

Will said nothing. He wasn’t sure what he could say. How could he possibly tell her that his feelings for her were a jumble of anger, gratitude ... and perhaps a fleeting bit of enticement? That he found her quite beautiful and a great conversationalist, but he also saw her as a bitter reminder of his loss.

“I think those doilies you’re crocheting are absolutely beautiful,” Laura said, inspecting Granny Taylor’s work. “Please set some aside for me the day of the fundraiser. I’ll pay double what anyone else is offering.”

“I can hardly pass up an offer like that,” Granny said, chuckling. “The church will appreciate that.”

“The church fundraisers are always so beneficial and fun,” Melody said, continuing work on a piece of embroidery. “I’m glad you can be a part of it, Laura. Your own work is quite lovely.”

Laura looked down at the baby blanket she was knitting. “I love handiwork. I find it gives me time to reflect and pray when I’m doing it alone. I think of each piece and who I plan to gift it to, and then I pray for them.”

“I do the same,” Granny admitted. “I knit a lot of shawls. In fact, at the sale you’ll find I have several to donate. I pray for the person who will buy them and wear them. I want God to bless them and help them on their daily path. It blesses me to think of how He will work in their lives.”

Marybeth returned just then from visiting Will. “Poor Will. He really is dealing with a great many things. I feel so sorry for him.”

“I think we all do,” Faith Cooper said as she put aside her crochet work to take a sip of her tea. “He was such a hardworking and enthusiastic young man prior to losing his mother and sister, and of course ... the accident.”

“I didn’t know him as well as you ladies did,” Laura began, “but I can sense that he was far more outgoing and excited by the prospects of what was yet to come.”

“Oh, he was. He was so excited about getting his assignment on the Indian reservation. He came out last spring with such enthusiasm and love for those people.” Faith lingered over her tea. “I remember him sitting and talking to me and my husband for over an hour one evening after supper. He spoke of some of the cultural things he’d learned about the Shoshone and of how he thought he could help them to see how much God loved them. He said everyone longs for love and a sense of purpose. I thought that was insightful for one so young.”

“He’s not all that young,” Granny countered. “He’s thirty years old. By that age, my Jed already had a wife and children and a ranch to work. He was older than his years because of all we’d had to face. I have a feeling that beyond the war, this situation is the first time Will’s had to dig deep to get the living water he needs to survive.”

“What an interesting way of putting it, Granny.” Laura loved the old lady’s way of looking at life and speaking her mind.

“Well, it suits the moment. Will’s grown up in the Christian faith. And his faith may never have been tried like it is right now. The war was terrible, and no doubt it grew him up a great deal and tested his spirit. I won’t be sayin’ that it didn’t. But now he’s dealing with life in a very personal way. He’s lost his family, and now the one thing that gave him purpose and goals is questionable to him. His faith has been shaken.”

“I hadn’t really thought of his faith being shaken,” Melody said, rubbing her expanding abdomen. “The baby is sure kicking up a storm today.”

“You’ve got what, about two and half months left?” Faith asked.

“Something like that. Early to mid-April as best as the doctor can figure.”

Marybeth nodded. “I can hardly wait, and poor Edward won’t sleep well until I safely deliver this child. I wish he weren’t so worried, but having lost his first wife in childbirth, he can’t help it.”

“We’ll keep praying for him. Just as we’ll keep praying for Will. Our fellas need our constant prayers. They have a lot of strength in spirit and body, but they need that extra bolstering in order to make good.” Granny put her crocheting aside and got to her feet. “Time for me to stretch a bit.”

“Would you like more tea?” Laura got up and placed her knitting on the chair.

“I think that would be nice,” Granny said. “After that, I think we should gather round and pray. I have a feeling that we should pray long and hard for each of our fellas today. Seems like testing times are upon them all.”

Laura waved good-bye as the ladies headed off on foot to their various homes. She had thoroughly enjoyed their time working and praying together. It was refreshing in a way that she had never known. Back in school, there had been times of silent prayer, but they weren’t encouraged to pray out loud. There was something quite intimate and deeply encouraging about praying with friends.

A noise sounded nearby, and Laura turned to see what it was. To her surprise, a little gray-and-white-striped kitten dashed across the snowy yard and came to brush up against her skirt.

“Where did you come from, little one?” she asked and leaned down to pick up the cold animal.

Drawing him close, Laura was rewarded with loud purring as the kitten snuggled up against her.

“You are such a little thing.” Laura glanced around the neighborhood, wondering who had lost their pet. “Well, I’ll take you inside and let you warm up. Then I’ll talk to Curtis about finding out where you belong.”

The kitten mewed again, and Laura couldn’t help but laugh. “How can anyone ever be sad around a kitten?” She thought immediately of Will. Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to share this with him?

She made her way into the house and down the hall to his room. “Will?” She called softly from the door just in case he was sleeping.

“Come in,” he answered.

Hiding the kitten under her shawl, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. “I’ve come to show you something.” She closed the door behind her, then made her way to his bed.

“Look what I found.” She unwrapped the shawl and placed the kitten on the bed beside him. “I think he got lost. I’m going to have Curtis check with the neighbors and see if they are missing their pet.”

Will stared at the animal for a moment, then surprised Laura by running his index finger down the back of the baby. “He’s pretty young to be out on his own.”

“I thought so too.” She moved to the door. “Will you please watch him while I go speak to Curtis?” She didn’t wait for an answer but hurried to the kitchen, where she hoped she’d find the young man. The cook had mentioned earlier that she was going to put him to work rearranging the pantry.

“Mrs. Murphy, is Curtis here?”

The stocky woman looked up from where she was rolling pie dough. “He’s in the pantry.”

“Thank you. I need him for a little errand, but he can finish for you first,” Laura said as she moved toward the pantry.

She found Curtis on a ladder placing several jars of preserves on a high shelf. “Curtis, when you’re finished here, I wonder if you would do me a favor.”

“Sure, Miss Evans. What is it?” He climbed down and stopped directly in front of her. “I’m almost done.”

“I found a kitten. He’s with Will right now. Stop by and see him for yourself so you can describe him, but then I want you to go around the neighborhood and see if anyone has lost him. He’s so little—too little to be out in the snow.”

“Sure thing. I’ll go in a few minutes and see what I can find out.”

“Thank you, Curtis.” She glanced around the pantry, but having never seen it before, she couldn’t really say if the young man had done a good job or not. However, she knew his work was generally quite thorough. Surely praise was in order.

“This looks very nice, Curtis. You’ve done a good job.”

“Thanks, Miss Evans. I’ve always been able to organize things. Your pa said he might hire me on down at the store.”

“Well, if you are gifted with organization, I can’t think of a better place to work.” She left him with that. Back in the kitchen, Laura grabbed a saucer. “I wonder if I could have a bit of milk?”

Mrs. Murphy looked at her oddly but fetched the milk and poured a little into the saucer. Laura smiled. “I found a kitten, and I believe he’s hungry.”

“And cold if he’s been outside long.”

“Exactly. Will is warming him up right now.”

Laura made her way back to Will’s room and found him quite entertained as he allowed the kitten to crawl around his face and neck.

“Looks like you two have made friends already. I’ve brought a little milk for him.”

“The way he’s been mewing, I’d say he’s starved.”

Laura brought the milk to the bed and carefully placed it beside Will on top of the quilt. The kitten hurried to the saucer and began to lap at the offering.

“See there, you were right.” Laura gave the animal a little stroke as he continued to lap up the milk. “I asked Curtis to find his owner. Hopefully we can reunite them soon.”

But by late afternoon, they were no closer to finding the animal’s home. Laura thought it fine and made plans to keep the baby, but Will seemed less enthusiastic.

“You’ll just get attached and something will happen to him,” Will said, shaking his head in disapproval.

“And I suppose I should never get attached to anyone or thing because something might happen to them?” Laura asked before realizing how it might affect Will.

“It’ll save you a lot of hurt if you did things that way.”

“It’d keep me from a lot of love and happiness too.” She met his gaze. The kitten was sleeping next to him, curled up against Will’s neck on the pillow.

“Is that why you haven’t married?” she asked Will, deciding to make it personal.

“I learned during the war to guard my heart. It served me well. And of course, given all that’s happened of late, I should have done a better job. What about you?”

“I suppose I should have learned that after losing my mother and, to a degree, my father, but I didn’t. I had a hard lesson when I was seventeen. My college in Tennessee decided to temporarily close in 1863 because the war was on our front steps. I accompanied one of my teachers, Mrs. Nelson, to Europe to escape the horrors of war. That was my father’s desire anyway.

“Mrs. Nelson was a childless widow, but she had a sister in Paris, so we went to stay with her for the duration of the war. She had a son who was a little older than me. His name was Andrew Mansard. We saw each other day in and day out. He was attending college, and since I was being schooled by Mrs. Nelson, we often studied together. I found him to be quite entertaining and enjoyed learning about his experiences in life.

“As you remember, the war went on until 1865, so my time with him was extensive. He was often my escort to various parties and outings. I couldn’t help myself. I fell in love. It was my first experience of losing my heart. Andrew was quite suave and devilishly handsome. He had made conquests all over the city. I didn’t know it at the time, however, and fell rather hard. I thought he felt the same way, since he declared it to be so with his romantic speeches and promises.”

“I had friends who were like that,” Will said, shaking his head. The kitten stirred but didn’t wake.

Laura could still remember how much it hurt when she realized she’d been duped by Andrew and his well-crafted words.

“When we heard the war was over, I was so excited. I knew I’d finally be able to go home again, and I wanted my father to meet Andrew and approve him as a husband. Andrew had talked on and on about how we would be married once the war was over, and I took him at his word.”

“But he didn’t mean it, did he?” Will asked.

“No. No, he did not. One morning at breakfast, Mrs. Nelson announced we would soon book passage back to America. I made the mistake of asking Andrew if he would accompany us or come soon after. He acted surprised and said I had misunderstood him. That my little girl infatuation had caused me to imagine all sorts of promises when none had been made.”

Laura shrugged and eased back into the rocking chair. “I was such a foolish child. I had no suspicion of him being anything less than truthful in his feelings. I didn’t have a mother to warn me about such things, and Mrs. Nelson obviously didn’t want to create a problem with her nephew.”

“Figures. Never mind that it hurt you. What happened?” Will’s voice was soft and full of sympathetic tones.

“Nothing. That was the problem. I found Andrew and asked him about all the promises he’d made. All the words of love. He laughed and told me that this was just the way of things in Paris. That he was merely enticing me and teaching me to enjoy romance. I told him that given the outcome, it wasn’t worth the pain. He thought me quite silly and childish. And perhaps I was. But I grew up that day.”

Will nodded. “I can understand that.”

Laura shrugged again. “What of you? Have you ever been in love?”

“No. And given the pain of losing the people I loved, I don’t plan to love again, especially not in the fashion you’re talking about.”

“I suppose some would call you very wise.” She got to her feet and headed for the door. “I’m going to let you get some rest before supper. Sleep well.”

After Laura had gone, sadness washed over Will. He could see in his mind’s eye the innocent and loving young woman she’d been. Her first experience of romantic love was all a game. How that must have crushed her spirit.

She had been soured on love. They both had, but Will found it especially troubling where she was concerned. Laura Evans was a beautiful and intelligent young woman. She was kind and generous as well. She deserved to be loved and cared for by someone other than her father, who hadn’t been man enough to set aside his own selfish needs for that of his grief-stricken child.

Will had no trouble imagining Laura as a wife and mother. Her family would be blessed to have her, and there would be an abundance of love and joy. Laura was the kind of person who could draw love quite naturally from others.

If she would allow it.

He frowned and closed his eyes. But she wouldn’t. She’d been hurt, cut deep. She had trusted and given her heart and found it was all a farce. She was much too logical to allow it to happen again. Anger at Andrew coursed through Will’s thoughts. He was older. He knew better. He had toyed with her affections as if they were nothing more than a childhood game.

Cruel.

Very simply the man was cruel, and Will hated that Laura had ever had to endure him.