Carol Ritten Smith Read online

  “Are you going to teach today?” he asked.

  “I’m going to try. Once I’m up for a while, I’m sure I’ll feel better.”

  “But what if you throw up at school?”

  Her stomach heaved and Beth flew out the door, wondering if she’d even make it to the outhouse, let alone the school to teach.

  Midway through the morning classes, Beth started feeling better. She wondered if she had eaten something tainted, except Davy exhibited no ill effects and they’d eaten the same food. No, she decided, she must have some bug. It would be early to bed for them both. The last thing she needed was Davy to come down sick too.

  • • •

  “How many more sleeps until Tom gets back?” Davy asked as he crawled under the covers.

  “I’m not certain. He said he’d be gone about a month.” Had it been only three days since he’d left for Toronto? It seemed so much longer.

  Davy held his hands out before her face, fingers spread. “How many?”

  “Okay. Let’s see.” She sat on the edge of his bed and folded down his fingers as she named the sleeps. “Tonight is Monday night. Then there’s Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday … ” When she started through a third set of ten digits, she felt more disheartened than Davy looked.

  “Jeepers. That’s almost three handfuls. How will I ever be able to wait that long?”

  How indeed would either of them?

  Beth stayed awake in bed for many hours. Tom’s words kept repeating in her head. Nothing holding me back. Nothing holding me back. What a fool she had been. Tom was gone and all because of her ridiculous notion they shouldn’t see each other for a while. Nothing holding me back. Beth pulled the covers up over her head. Was she really nothing to him now? She had no more tears in her, but she had regrets, a heart full.

  • • •

  Tom didn’t mind the smell of a good cigar, but what was drifting from that roll of tobacco across the aisle was anything but pleasant. It had no sweet lingering aroma, but an acrimonious stench that permeated everything on the train. Tom opened his window slightly to let in some fresh air, shifted to a more comfortable position on the hard leather bench seat, and stared out at the vast emptiness, counting the hours until he’d be home.

  It took nearly two weeks going and two weeks coming back. The few days in between while he was in Toronto had passed quickly. He wondered how everyone was at home, how his horses had fared and if the Flanagan boys had had any trouble with the shop. It would feel good to get back to work.

  He brought back maple sugar candy for Earl’s sweet tooth, and maple syrup and a tin of fancy biscuits for Mary. He brought nothing for Davy or Beth, not because he forgot, only because he didn’t know how he would be received when he returned.

  He thought of them every moment he was away, and he wished he could show them the beautiful sights of Toronto. Maybe one day he would. It all depended on Beth. For all he knew, she might have decided to accept Lars Anderstom’s attention. Mary had always told Tom not to borrow trouble, but try as he might to heed her warning, worry was his seat partner all the way home.

  The train had chugged westward through Manitoba and then Saskatchewan. Mile upon endless mile of snow-covered fields passed Tom’s window. At times, it was difficult to distinguish between land and sky, and Tom decided nothing could be bleaker than the flat prairies. Spring had arrived by the calendar, but nature didn’t know that yet. Occasionally, he saw a desolate farmstead, standing brown and foreign against the banal white landscape. Only a gray plume of smoke rising from its chimney indicated the shack was inhabited.

  Eventually the landscape changed. Rolling hills loomed in the distance, and the snow didn’t appear as deep. Patches of brown grass and clumps of trees dotted the hillsides while amber colored bushes erupted through the melting snowdrifts along the rails. Tom began to get restless, knowing he was getting closer to home.

  Farmyards were more frequent now. Fences marked where one homestead ended and another began. Horses ranged the pastureland, nibbling at the fresh sprouts of spring grasses. Cattle, penned during calving season, rested on the straw mounds, while others licked up the last few wisps of hay fed during the morning chores.

  By late afternoon, the train had reached the foothills and it snaked its way through the valley, passing through Tannerville. It crossed the trestle spanning the deep creek bed of Whistle Creek.

  Tom peered down. In the fall, only a small creek trickled along there and during winter it was frozen dormant. But in the spring, the run-off from the hills and mountains to the west filled the creek bed. Today, the water was deep, murky with mud, twigs and debris washed along by the swift current.

  Far ahead, Tom saw the spire on the Whistle Creek Methodist Church. He was home.

  The train rocked from side to side, and Tom widened his stance as he hauled down his belongings from the overhead shelf, ready to disembark even before the conductor announced the next stop was his town, Whistle Creek.

  The man with the cigar had fallen asleep again, his hands folded upon his generous belly, which rose and fell in rhythm to his loud snoring. Glad to be rid of him, Tom headed down the aisle, and waited by an exit. When the train eased to a brake-screeching stop, Tom stepped from the train. His legs felt hollow, now that the train’s rocking motion was absent.

  He looked toward the station, and his heart skipped a joyous beat. Beth and Davy were waiting there. Davy waved exuberantly and broke free from his sister’s grasp to run to him, throwing himself into Tom’s open arms. “I’m so glad you’re back! I missed you so much!”

  Tom hugged him close. “I missed you too, Bud. How have you been?”

  Davy pulled back. “I lost a tooth. See?” He bared his teeth and poked his tongue through the vacant space. Then he pushed against the adjacent one with his tongue, wiggling it. “And this one’s loose, too.”

  “Well, so it is!”

  But Tom wasn’t interested in loose teeth. He straightened to look across at Beth, still standing by the station. From the distance, it was impossible to read her face, and he wondered if she still felt the same about him. He allowed Davy to lead him over.

  Chapter 20

  “Hello, Beth.” He kept his voice carefully passive. “It’s good to see you.”

  She nodded. “How was your trip?” she asked when really she wanted to ask, “Did you miss me?”

  “Good … long,” he answered when really he wanted to answer, “Lonesome, terribly lonesome.”

  There was an awkward pause in the conversation, but Davy quickly filled it. “Beth’s been sick,” he volunteered.

  Tom raised a worried eyebrow.

  She waved his concerns away. “Nothing serious.”

  Suddenly Davy remembered his gift. He pulled a short crude-looking wooden spoon out of his pocket. “I whittled this for you with the knife you gave me.”

  Tom accepted the gift graciously.

  “Only a couple of nicks in his fingers too,” Beth said, smiling.

  Davy reached out, turning the spoon for Tom’s inspection. “It’s good, huh! I worked on it every night before bedtime. I had lots of time to make it real good. Beth and I counted the sleeps until you got back.” In his excitement, one sentence led to another.

  Tom grinned.

  “He missed you,” Beth said.

  Tom looked into her eyes as if trying to see into her soul. “Just Davy?”

  She blushed and shook her head. “No. I missed you too.”

  Tom smiled in relief. He had a thousand things he wanted to say, a thousand things he wanted to ask, but not with Davy around.

  “Bill’s still living at the livery.” Davy answered one of Tom’s questions. “He’s got it fixed up real good. Got a cot in there and a place for his clothes and everything. I can sleep over sometime if I want. And guess what? I might be able to sleep in a manger … ”

  Davy rattled on, but Tom barely heard past the part about Bill still living at the livery. “So, he won’t come home?”
/>   “No. He’s happy there.”

  “What about you? Are you happy?”

  “Now that you’re back, I am,” she answered almost shyly.

  “Mary told us you were coming in today,” Davy explained.

  God bless her soul. Tom had telegraphed just before the train departed Regina, but he never said a word to her about telling Beth when he would arrive. He was grateful she had.

  He stuffed his hand down inside his trouser pocket and withdrew a shiny new nickel. He squatted down to Davy’s level. “Do you see this? I brought it all the way back from Toronto especially for you. Why don’t you go buy some candy with it?”

  “Oh boy!”

  Finally, they were alone, as alone as two people could get on a Saturday afternoon on the loading platform of the train station at train time. Forgetting his luggage, Tom led Beth further under the wide canopy of the station’s roof where the shadows offered privacy, albeit minimal.

  “I missed you so much, Beth.” He took her hands in his, his thumbs running across her knuckles.

  “And I’ve been miserable while you’ve been away.”

  Tom took a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching and then kissed her lightly on her trembling lips. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed doing that. This has been the longest few weeks in my life. I thought about you every minute, wondering how you were, what you were doing, whether you would even speak to me when I returned.” He pulled her close in a breath-squeezing hug, and whispered, “Ah, Beth, I love you.”

  “And I love you too,” she replied, happy tears flooding her eyes. “I was a fool to insist we stay apart.”

  He released the hug and smiled. “We belong together, Beth. When I saw Abigail and her new husband at the altar I realized I want to marry you even more.”

  Beth’s eyes shifted downwards. “Tom, before that can ever happen, I have things I need to tell you. Things — ”

  “Okay, but not here,” Tom interrupted. “Not with everyone in Whistle Creek standing within hearing distance. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

  Beth nodded. “Where? Your place?”

  “Or yours. I doesn’t matter.” He took her arm and they started down the boardwalk when Tom remembered he’d left his luggage sitting on the platform. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

  While Beth waited, she looked about for Davy, seeing instead a ghost from her past step down from the train.

  Uncle Mead.

  Alive.

  In Whistle Creek.

  Any relief she should had felt knowing he was alive was short-lived. Instead, a dark shadow of fear closed in upon her. What was Uncle Mead doing here?

  She watched in horror as Mead grabbed Tom’s arm when they met on the platform. When Tom pointed in the direction of the livery, the ground spun and the dark shadow rose up and engulfed her.

  • • •

  In Doc Fisher’s waiting room, Davy sat on Tom’s knee with his face buried against Tom’s broad shoulder. “Beth’s gonna die,” he wailed. “I just know it.”

  Tom did his best to comfort him. “Shhh. She just fainted, Davy. She’ll be fine.”

  “No, she won’t. She’s been sick for a long time. Throwing up every morning. I know she’s gonna die.”

  “Don’t worry. She — ” Tom halted mid-sentence. Had he heard Davy correctly? “What did you say?”

  “She’s gonna die.”

  “No, before that. Did you say she was throwing up every morning?”

  Davy nodded and sucked in three jagged breaths. “Bill told her to go see the d … doctor, but she kept thinking she was getting b … better, but the next morning she’d be sick again.”

  Tom cradled Davy’s head. Could it be? Their very first time? He never once considered the possibility, but after listening to Davy’s tearful account of Beth’s illness, it seemed very likely Beth was carrying his child. Tom’s heart warmed, as if the thought were a heated blanket held against his chest. A baby. Our baby. I’m going to be a father! Then he cautioned himself. He didn’t know for certain Beth was pregnant. Still, it was definitely possible.

  Doc Fisher came from the examining room and closed the door behind him. Davy began to wail even louder, assuming the worst when Beth didn’t follow.

  Tom stood, Davy’s arms and legs wrapped around him like a vine. “How is she?” Tom asked.

  “Better.”

  “Can we go see her?”

  Doc nodded in Davy’s direction. “Just the boy. I want to have a word with you.”

  “Did you hear, Davy? You can go in to see her,” Tom whispered gently in the boy’s ear.

  “I can?” He wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  “Your sister is fine,” the doctor repeated, taking a seat behind his desk. “But she’s resting so you can’t stay long.”

  When Davy went through into the examining room, Tom got a glimpse of Beth lying down, a white sterile sheet covering her. She was crying softly. Crying? Then the door shut.

  Doc entered notes into a ledger, closed it and put the pen into the holder. He propped his elbows on his heavy wooden desk, rested his chin on his laced fingers, and studied Tom. “Please, sit down. There’s a few things you need to know.”

  Doc’s serious tone sent ice through Tom’s veins. His heart was no longer warm, but squeezed by the cold clutches of dread. He sank into the chair, afraid to hear what Doc had to say. Maybe there wasn’t a baby. Maybe Beth was crying because of a serious illness.

  Doc began. “Beth’s main problem right now is malnutrition. Unable to keep most foods down, she simply collapsed from hunger. Now, I’ve given her something to help settle her stomach, but I’d like her to stay the night so I can keep watch over her, just in case.”

  Tom leaned forward, his palms sweaty. “In case what?”

  “Well, she took a nasty fall when she fainted. I want to be sure there is no threat to the pregnancy.”

  She is pregnant! Tom should have been overjoyed, but his happiness was diminished remembering Beth was crying in the other room.

  Doc continued, “Beth wouldn’t say, but I assume you are the father.”

  “Yes. The baby is mine.”

  Doc Fisher leaned back in his chair. “I don’t expect there to be any complications. Other than morning sickness, which should pass soon, Beth is healthy.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “I’m sorry, Tom, but you’d better not. She’s upset right now. Come by tomorrow, and if she’s better, then you can see her.”

  Tom nodded and rose to leave, but Doc motioned him to sit again. He kept his voice quiet so it wouldn’t carry into the next room. “Tom, I’m not breaking any confidences when I say I know you and Abigail Craig were intimate. Half the town suspected it, but without a baby to show, they had no tangible proof. But this time is different.”

  Tom knew where the doctor was heading with this conversation and it made him angry. If Beth hadn’t come to him in the night, then this morality lesson would be unnecessary. No, dammit, he chastised himself harshly, I never should have allowed her into my bed. I’m the one responsible for all this!

  “Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll take care of things. Beth and I will be married soon.” He stood. “Now is there anything else you wish to say or am I free to go?” he asked curtly.

  Doc rose, meeting Tom eye to eye. “I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s my job to look after the welfare of my patient, first and foremost.”

  Tom extended his hand and smiled sadly. “I know, Doc. I know. And thanks. I appreciate it.” He headed for the door and then stopped. “When Davy is through seeing Beth, send him to my place. He can stay with me for the night.”

  • • •

  “Thought you’d seen the last of me, boy?”

  Bill spun about and almost dropped to his knees when he saw his uncle standing hale and hearty in the livery’s doorway.

  “What are you doing here?” Bill tried to hide the panic in his voice. “Go away and leave us alone.”
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  “Uh uh. I didn’t travel no two hundred miles to go home empty handed. I come to take you boys back where you belong. Where’s Davy?”

  “He ain’t here.”

  “I kin see that! Where is he?”

  Bill crossed his arms in front of him to stop them from shaking, but Mead mistook his stance as one of defiance.

  “Don’t you be insolent, boy. I still have the right to take a belt to you and by cracky I will if you don’t tell me where the young’n is.”

  Emmett Compel came out from the feed room. “What’s all the racket about? You’re scaring the horses.”

  Mead puffed out his chest with an air of importance. “Sir, I am Mead Parkerson and this here boy is my nephew. He and his younger brother run away from me ’bout seven, eight months ago and I’m here to get them back.”

  Emmett seemed unimpressed. “Listen, buster, I don’t give a cow patty if you’re the second coming of Christ. You’re scaring the horses and if you don’t leave immediately, I’ll throw you out!”

  Mead face bulged with outraged. “Ain’t you been listening? I have every right to take this boy with me.”

  “And I have every right to toss you out on your fat ass in the middle of the street. Now get moving!” Emmett, no small man, bellied up to Mead.

  Mead, all fat and no spine, backed down. “Very well,” he huffed, “I’m gonna take this up with the authorities.” To Bill he warned, “I’ll be back for you, never you worry,” and stormed out.

  “You in trouble, Bill?”

  “No,” Bill answered, then rethought his answer and asked, “Mind if I quit early? I’ve got something I need to do.”

  “Just finish this last bit. Then you can go.”

  Ten minutes later, Bill hammered on Beth’s door, once, twice, and then poked his head inside. “Beth? You home?” He was met by silence.

  Bill stood on the stoop. Where was she? He needed to warn her. Suddenly he felt sick. What if Mead had come by while he was finishing up at the livery and had already taken Beth and Davy with him?

  Bill forced himself to think rationally. Knowing his uncle’s penchant for drinking, Mead would likely stop for a pint or two first. There was a good chance he hadn’t even been here yet. Beth and Davy were probably just out, maybe visiting Betner’s. He headed there next.