A Truth Revealed (The Heart of Cheyenne #3)

Chapter 11

11

Laura finished pulling on her gloves before heading downstairs to bid her father good-bye. She was heading out to church despite the deep snow left from the storm. Her father had plans to be gone for the evening as well, so he could hardly complain or forbid her to leave the house based on the weather.

“Father,” she said, coming into his study, “the Vogels will be here shortly, and I’ll be going to church. Do you know what time you plan to be home tonight?”

He glanced up from his desk and shook his head. “Hard to say. Sometimes these meetings go long.”

“Seems a shame to have to have them on the Sabbath.” She pulled on her wool bonnet and began to secure the ties. “I think there must be those who would prefer to do business on other days.”

“It’s really none of your concern, Laura.” He gave her a look that suggested she had crossed a line, but then he smiled. He could so easily change his manner. “My, don’t you look pretty.”

Laura came around his desk to offer a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Father. And as for my concerns, I just worry that you’re overextending yourself. You never seem to rest, and I fear you’ll fall ill.”

“Don’t worry about me. I assure you I am healthy and capable. You haven’t had the experience of being in my presence long enough to realize that this is a normal manner for me.”

And whose fault was that? She wanted to ask but didn’t.

“Well, the weather doesn’t help.” She didn’t want to make too much of the snow for fear he might suggest she stay home. “The cold causes all sorts of illness.”

“If I thought that to be true, I’d forbid you to traipse off to church. Now stop your fretting.”

Laura headed toward the door. “I’m sorry. You must remember that I love you and want only the best for you.”

Her father gave her a wave. “I want the same for you. By the way, what say we host a party on Washington’s birthday? I still want to get you properly introduced to my friends, especially my single friends.”

“The twenty-second of February?” Laura considered the fact that she likely wouldn’t get out of this no matter what she said. “I think that would be a good time. Spirits will be high in celebration, and as good Southerners we can hardly host a party on Lincoln’s birthday.” She smiled.

“I’ve never yet celebrated that man’s birthday and never will. Now go on with you. I’ll make the arrangements, and you make sure you have a pretty dress to wear. You know I have a fine collection of ready-made gowns at the store. You should come and pick something out.”

“I have a great many clothes already. I’m sure I’ll have something appropriate.”

Just then, someone gave a light rap on the door and opened it before her father could speak. The man was tall and lanky. He was dressed in a dark brown duster and dark trousers. A black broad-brimmed hat was worn low over his face. There was an air of danger about him, and Laura immediately disliked him.

“Laura, this is one of my men. I need to speak to him,” her father said. “You and I can finish up later.”

“Yes, Father. We can talk in the morning.” She wanted nothing more than to get out of the room. She knew it was probably silly, but the man made her most uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes. Go on with you now.”

She stepped into the hall and pulled the door partway closed. She would have closed it all the way, but strangely enough she heard her father mention the kitten.

“Remember I told you about that blasted kitten? Laura kept it, and I want it gone. While she’s at church tonight, take it out and drown it.”

Laura put her hand to her throat. Was he serious? She knew her father hadn’t been all that welcoming of the kitten, but since it stayed in Will’s room, she hadn’t thought it to be a real problem.

“Do you really want me to kill it?” the man asked.

“I hate that thing. I don’t care what you do with it. I just want it gone. I’ll tell her it ran off.”

“If that’s the way you want it.”

Laura heard her father confirm his desires before going off onto something else he wanted the man to oversee. She hurried down the hall to the kitchen. There she found one of the cook’s market baskets and grabbed it and a couple of dish towels. She’d take the kitten with her to church and find another home for it. She wasn’t about to leave it here to be killed. And no doubt if that was her father’s order, the man would carry it out. She knew her father well enough to know that his hirelings would heed his orders or risk being fired.

Laura nearly ran into Mrs. Duffy as she was coming out of Will’s room. “I’m so sorry. I’m in a bit of a hurry. Would you mind watching for the Vogels? I need to tend to something, and they should be arriving most anytime now.”

“Of course, Laura.” The woman headed for the entryway. “I’ll get your heavy wool coat ready as well.”

“Thank you.” Laura pushed back the door to Will’s room and immediately spied the kitten on the bed. She closed the door behind her, then hurried to place the basket on the bed.

“Something has come up. I can’t take time to talk about it, but I’m taking the kitten to church with me. I’m hoping someone else can give him a home.” She took the kitten in hand and drew it to her face. She kissed his little head as he mewed.

“But why? I thought you enjoyed him.”

Laura met Will’s gaze. “My father doesn’t want him around. He ... he told his man to take it out while I was at church. He told him to kill it.”

“He what?” Will glanced at the closed door. “But why?”

“I don’t know, and I can’t take time to try and figure it out right now. The Vogels will be here any minute to take me to church. All I know is I can’t risk that horrible man finding him and carrying out his orders.”

“Of course not.” Will looked again at the door. “How will you explain his absence?”

“I don’t know. I suppose, if need be, I’ll tell the truth. That I found a home for him.” She tucked him into the basket and closed the lid. “Hopefully I can get him out to the wagon without anyone questioning me.”

“I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

Laura nodded. “Me too. I know you’ve come to care for him.”

“It’s not me I’m sorry for,” Will replied.

For a moment, Laura just looked at him. His expression was one of sympathy, but it was Will’s eyes that caught her attention most. He seemed to look through to her soul. As if he really understood her feelings in this matter.

There was a knock at Will’s door, and Etta Duffy looked in. “They’re here, Miss Laura.”

“I’m coming.” Laura grabbed the basket and hurried to where the housekeeper stood holding her coat. She handed the older woman the basket and took the dark green coat from her. Slipping into the warmth, Laura found it did little to help the cold that permeated her heart. How could her father be so ruthless and cruel? Surely, he didn’t really mean for the man to kill the kitten. It was too much to accept, much less try to sort out in a rush.

Climbing into the carriage, Laura held the basket tightly as the kitten mewed from within. Carrie was asleep on Marybeth’s lap, and Laura was grateful she only needed to explain to adults.

“I have a kitten in this basket,” she said. “It’s a complicated story, but I need to find it a home and didn’t feel that I could leave him at the house.”

“We were just saying that we could use a cat,” Marybeth replied. “In fact, a kitten is even better. Carrie would love a pet.”

“It’d be better to have a full-grown cat,” Edward chimed in. “The idea is for it to kill mice. This cold weather has really driven them inside.”

“He’ll be a good mouser in time,” Marybeth said. “Why don’t you swing us back by the house, and we can leave the basket there? We have plenty of time.”

Edward said nothing but turned the horse toward their place. Laura felt a huge sense of relief. “Thank you. I would hate it if something happened to him. He’s so little and sweet.”

“A three-year-old, a kitten, and soon a new baby,” Marybeth said, shifting Carrie in her arms. “Sounds perfect.”

“Sounds like more than we bargained for,” Edward muttered.

“Our entire marriage has been more than either of us bargained for,” she said, laughing. He chuckled as well.

Their levity gave immediate relief to Laura’s spirits. She still found it hard to stomach her father’s orders, but at least the kitten would be safe. She could figure out the rest of the matter in time.

Exactly a month after Will’s accident, he received the doctor’s approval to try to use the crutches Laura had found for him. His ribs and left side were still plenty sore, but he had been bed bound for too long and getting up on his feet was what he most wanted now.

“You seem to handle yourself very well,” Laura said as she swept into his room. She was gowned in a forest-green silk that had been trimmed in black cording and lace. The long sleeves were full to the elbow and then fitted to the wrist. It was done up in the new postwar style that eliminated the full belled skirts and had instead a bustled back. She looked quite lovely, and her dark red hair complemented the color of the gown.

“I ... uh...” He tried to move his thoughts away from how beautiful she looked this evening. “I’m doing my best.”

“I’m here to encourage you to join us for dinner. Father said he’d like to know you better, and I know it’s been weeks since you sat at a table.”

“I’d like that too. The doctor said it won’t hurt for me to have my foot down. The swelling should be gone.” Will straightened. “I’m hardly dressed for a formal dinner, however.”

“Well, I can help you with that. You need only to don your coat and you’ll be proper enough.” She went to the wardrobe and opened it. She took out a suit coat that Mrs. Cooper had brought for him along with some of his other things when he’d first taken up residency at the Evans house.

She helped Will into his jacket, and that was when he noticed the scent of her perfume. It was new.

“What’s the new scent you’re wearing?”

She looked surprised and gave a light laugh. “I hardly expected you to notice such a thing. It’s a new floral perfume from my father’s store. Do you like it?”

“I do. It suits you better than the other.”

Laura studied him for a moment, then smiled. “You never cease to amaze me, Wilson Porter. Now, come along. Father is waiting.”

He followed her slowly, making certain to manage the crutches without mistake. The last thing he wanted was to reinjure his foot and leg. Once they entered the dining room, Rosey was there to help Laura get him settled at the table.

“Look who has decided to join us, Father.”

“Mr. Porter. It’s good to see you up and around.” Granite Evans gave him a nod.

“Thank you, sir. Your generosity has been a blessing to me, but I’m certain to be headed home soon. At least as soon as the doctor tells me I can manage the stairs.”

“I’m not sure how you would even attempt that with a broken leg.” Laura took her seat and placed her napkin on her lap.

“I suppose a little finessing will be needed, but I’ll figure it out,” Will assured them.

Dinner was served, and to Will’s delight it was one of Mrs. Murphy’s delicious beef Wellingtons. Apparently, this was a favorite of Mr. Evans, as they had it at least once a week. When everyone was served, Will noticed that Mr. Evans picked up his fork and knife to dig right in while Laura bowed her head for an apparent silent prayer.

Still feeling rather distanced from the Almighty, Will picked up his napkin and arranged it on his lap until Laura had finished. When she glanced over at him, she smiled.

“I’m so glad you felt up to joining us this evening. It will no doubt give Father some better and more lively conversation.”

“Your conversation has always been enjoyable, Laura.” Her father cut into his beef. “However, it is good to see Mr. Porter doing so well.”

“It’s all due in thanks to you two. Had you not taken me in, I would probably have fared far worse in lingering in the hospital. I thank you both.”

“You’re quite welcome. It’s only right to help out our fellow man,” Laura’s father said.

“Especially when I was the one responsible for having run him down,” Laura added.

“No, the fault was all mine.”

“Still, I felt obligated, and I’m glad I did. It’s been nice to get to know you better. The Vogels and Deckers as well as others have spoken so highly of you.”

“I understand you’re a preacher and your plan is to go to the reservation to save the souls of the Indians,” Granite Evans commented.

“I don’t know that it’s my ambition to do that any longer. After all, it was Indians who killed my mother and sister.”

Granite picked up a goblet of wine. “I suppose that would cause a fella to reconsider his heart on the matter. I personally don’t believe the Indian has a soul to save. As far as history shows me, they’ve failed to contribute anything of quality to our society.”

“But, Father, they are people. Of course they have a soul. You can’t be one of those who believes them to be nothing more than animals.”

Her father shrugged. “I’ve seen no proof to suggest otherwise. They have been vicious killers all along the rail line. Ask some of the others. It seems in this town anyway everyone knows someone who has suffered at the hands of the Indians. Why, prior to the war, we were always reading in the newspaper about some skirmish or attack in the West.”

“You have to admit they have been provoked on many occasions. Fired upon at first glance, rather than waiting to see if they were friend or foe.” Will was surprised to find himself defending the Indians and began eating to hide it.

“Will makes a good point, Father. All of this land was once theirs. Their homelands have been ripped away and their needs compromised. They were reliant upon hunting and fishing, and a lot of that has been taken from them.”

“Bah! They owned nothing. They don’t believe in land ownership. They think it all belongs to the Great Spirit or some such thing. They believe it their right to move freely and take their people from one place to another.”

“So as not to completely use up the resources of an area,” Will offered without thinking.

“Exactly. I’ve read about the Indians, Father. They are very mindful of the land’s ability to produce for them, be it from the animals on it or the plants that grow. I believe, given the fact that they’ve been around here for who knows how long, they know well enough how to maintain the grounds and animals for their benefit.”

Her father looked at her oddly. “You sometimes surprise me with your comments, Laura. I would never have expected such talk from you. I suppose that women’s college taught you this.”

“No, my own reading and discussion with others did. You’ll find that I’m quite well read, Father. I read newspapers and books of every kind. I also read Godey’s for all the knowledge and wisdom a woman might need in dressing in the fashions of the day, learning a new embroidery pattern, and reading short stories and poetry. I like a wide variety of reading, and the more topics, the better.”

“Well, it’s not exactly fitting for a proper lady to be reading details about Indian living,” her father countered. “Some of their activities can be quite scandalous. Not to bring up bad memories for Mr. Porter, but the Sioux did scalp those men from the stagecoach.”

“They did indeed,” Will replied and looked to Laura. “I think it is admirable that you take an interest in the Indians. Personally, my family has a long history with them, and we’ve found most tribes to be amiable when we offered kindness and friendship.”

“Before I came here, I read all I could about Cheyenne and the territory. It’s all very fascinating to me. I believe the better educated a person is, the more solutions they will have to the problems they face.”

“And what problems are you facing?” her father asked. “I do my best to protect and shield you from having problems.”

Laura laughed. “And you do such a good job, Father. Now, tell me, what is this I hear about giving women the right to vote? Is that truly something the Cheyenne founding fathers are supporting?”

“Indeed. The word across the territory is that we don’t have enough voting males to establish statehood. Congress won’t even consider us for statehood until we reach a higher number of voters. It’s been suggested that if we allow women the right to vote, we would have our numbers.”

“I wonder if Congress will see it the same way.”

“I have my doubts,” her father admitted. “But it is worth the try.”

“So you are supportive of women voting?” Will asked.

Granite Evans shrugged. “I don’t see how it could hurt. They’ll vote the way their husbands tell them to. It’s really no different than every man having two votes.”

“And what of single women like me?” Laura asked.

Her father shrugged again. “You’ll do what I tell you to do.”

Laura thought to remark but refrained. Sometimes her father’s attitude disappointed her, but she was determined not to love him any less. No doubt he had his reasons for the things he said and did. She obviously needed to know him better to understand his comments. Even if she couldn’t agree with them.