Chapter 162
A shot went off, the sound made his ears ring. But he wrenched the gun away and had it in his possession. He knocked Lewis on the head with the b.u.t.t end, just as Lewis elbowed him in the stomach.
Ant doubled over and gasped for breath.
Lewis staggered back a step into the rump of the mule.
With a loud bray the mule kicked. Its hooves connected with Lewis' midsection, sending him flying.
Panting, Ant straightened. He raised the Colt, took careful aim at the man on the ground. Lewis lay sprawled on his back amid the rocks edging the river. He didn't move, his body limp.
Keeping the Colt trained on Lewis, Ant edged closer. But what he saw made him release a deep breath of relief and holster his gun.
Lewis' eyes gazed blankly at the sky, his head at a sharp angle. To be sure, Ant knelt down and felt for a pulse, even though he'd seen enough dead people to know death when he saw it. He stood, turned to Harriet, and took quick steps to help her up.
Harriet, her hair straggling around her face, threw herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tremble.
Safe. He closed his eyes in grat.i.tude. Thank you, dear Lord! Thank you, thank you!
They embraced for a moment without speaking. Although Ant wanted to kiss her, he didn't push. He'd woo Harriet. Give her time.
Reluctantly he loosened his arms. "Are you hurt? Can you move?"
Harriet rubbed her head, an expression of pain on her face. "I think my hair is six inches longer."
He smoothed his hand over her head. "Where does it hurt?"
"All over."
Ant messaged her scalp.
She gave a little moan. "That feels good."
He rubbed her head for another minute, feeling some of the tension leave her body. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I promise to do more later, but Pepe is going to come charging over here any minute now. And if we don't stop David, he'll lead a posse back from town."
"I can move."
"That's my girl. Don't look at Lewis," he ordered. "You don't want to see him. Pepe will take the mule, then he and I will come back for the body later."
Harriet kept her face turned away from the body.
Ant took her hand. When Harriet didn't pull away, he had to quiet a stir of hope. Might be that she's just shaken up. Together they walked downstream.
When they cleared the trees, they saw Pepe running with the shotgun, a determined look on his face. He skidded to a stop. A single glance took in their joined hands and relaxed bodies. "The bad one, he is no more, eh?"
Ant waved his hand in the direction of Lewis' body. "Go see for yourself. We fought, but it was the kick from the mule that tossed Lewis onto the rocks and killed him."
"Bueno, Seor." Pepe rattled off a string of Spanish that included "hombre malo" and a few indecipherable words.
"That mule's a hero," Ant said. "Take him in and give him some warm mash and a good grooming."
"S, Seor."
Ant glanced down at Harriet. Color had returned to her cheeks and the skin was beginning to bruise on one side of her face. "Old Blue has earned warm mash for life, don't you think?"
Although a haunted look shadowed her eyes, she gave him a half smile that twisted his heart. Soon please, G.o.d, she'll laugh and be happy.
With shaking hands, David mounted Chester and, inside the barn, kneed him into a trot. As soon as they cleared the open doors, he kicked the horse into a gallop, heading for town.
He heard a shout behind him. "David, wait!"
Uncle Ant's voice.
David glanced back and saw Uncle Ant holding hands with Miss Stanton. He slowed Chester and wheeled the horse around, trotting back to them. He released the reins and slid off into his uncle's arms. Uncle Ant gave him a big hug, holding him in the air, and letting his legs dangle before setting him down.
David wiggled away and launched himself at Miss Stanton, almost bowling her over from his onslaught.
She braced herself, clasping him to her.
"Miss Stanton, I thought he was going to kill you like he did my mother."
She held him close, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. "But he didn't, David love. He didn't. We're safe now."
As David burrowed into Miss Stanton's arms, he felt his uncle place a hand on his shoulder. He turned, looked up at his uncle's face, and saw the pain in his eyes. Uncle Ant must have killed my pa. At the thought, the knot in his stomach unwound.
Uncle Ant's words confirmed the knowledge. "Your father's dead now, David. We saw the body. I promise, he'll never hurt you again."
For a moment, David felt a wave of sadness, then he glanced at Miss Stanton and saw the bruise on her face, and his heart hardened. My pa was a bad man. It's good he's dead. But he couldn't help the wistful wish, one he'd often had, that he had another man for his pa--a good
Uncle Ant crouched until his face was at David's height. "I'm so sorry for what I did with your mother's book. I became a bully. I frightened you...and Miss Stanton. I was wrong. Can you forgive me?" He looked at Miss Stanton. "Can you both forgive me?"
Miss Stanton gave him her pretty smile.
Pa never apologized. David nodded, then for good measure, said, "Yes."
Uncle Ant looked relieved. He held out his hand to David.
David stepped away from Miss Stanton and took his uncle's hand. Maybe I don't have a good pa, but I sure do have a good uncle. He eased his hand into Miss Stanton's. "Let's go home."
The three of them walked toward the house, David sandwiched between the adults. For the first time, he felt like part of a family and wished they could always be this way.
They separated to go through the front door. David led the way to the kitchen. He walked over to the stove, pried opened the round cast iron cover, and fished out the book. Although it had some streaks of ash on the leather cover, it wasn't ruined.
"Good thing I cleaned out the stove today, and David and I became so engrossed in his mother's book that I hadn't started supper," Miss Stanton said. She walked over to the sink, moving stiffly like she hurt, and picked up the dishcloth. "Here, David, let me wipe that off." She gave the book a careful cleaning and handed it back to him.
David laid the book on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "Let's read it together."
His uncle gave him a crooked grin. "That sounds like a very good idea, Davy boy. A very good idea. But first, Miss Stanton needs to lie down and rest. You and I are going to make her some willow bark tea and sc.r.a.pe together some supper." He grinned at her. "I hope you like beans, my lady."
Although her face didn't change, probably because it pained her to move, her eyes twinkled at his uncle, and she gave a tiny nod.
And in that moment, seeing the connection between the two of them, David knew everything was going to be all right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.
A few nights later, Ant and Harriet walked outside, hand-in-hand. By unspoken accord, they headed toward the stream. In the days since Lewis' attack, their bruises had turned green and yellow; the killer had been interred in the plot behind the church; and David had taken to talking up a storm.
The faint moonlight cast just enough light to follow the path that the Maguires had trod into the dirt over the years. Under the trees, it was nearly black with just the sound of the rustling leaves and rus.h.i.+ng water to tell them where they were.
They spoke of Ant's new building, already begun, and Harriet's attempt to make David a new s.h.i.+rt. Commonplace topics, but all the time an awareness of each other's presence s.h.i.+mmered between them.
They stopped at the stream's edge near the flat boulder, where the trees parted and the moon-glow showed on the milky bubbles, dancing over the silky black water. A night breeze, fragrant with earth and greenery, wafted over them.
Ant stared at the water. "I've been an angry man, Harriet. Angry enough to kill. But when all is said and done, I'm glad I didn't have to. I'm not sure what to do about the anger though. I think it's still there."
"Of course it is. Lewis' death doesn't erase your feelings about your sister's murder."
He let out a long, slow breath.
"I suggest you take some paper and a pen and write the story about what happened, including your feelings. I know that works for me. I haven't had anyone to talk to for a long time, so all my feelings have spilled out in my journal. I think it's the only thing that has helped me keep my temper with the Cobbs."
"I'll give it a try. Probably end up writing a book, though."
"Is that so bad? Fuddy duddy professor?"
He grinned at her. "Not any more. I reckon I could stand a dose of fuddy duddy after the excitement of the last weeks. But my anger was about more than Lewis murdering my sister and kidnapping David. It started before...in Europe with a woman named Isabella, whom I loved."
Harriet's heart clenched at his words.
Ant proceeded to tell her the whole story.
The story stirred her compa.s.sion. Harriet leaned against him. "Thank you for telling me."
He dropped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "I never told anyone before. It actually felt good...good to remember...without the pain."
Harriet looked up at him. "I don't love Nick Sanders."
His body stiffened, and he slowly turned to face her. "What do you mean?"
"I did love him. Or thought I did. He made me feel safe, and I needed that. After my father died, we moved around a lot...stayed in some...rough places. All I wanted was stability and security. But I started to feel differently a few weeks ago. It's only lately that I realized my feelings had changed."
"Different how?"
"I still want stability and security, but not with Nick." She looked up at him, hoping the moon's glow showed him the love in her eyes.
"Harriet." Still holding her hand, Ant dropped to one knee. "Will you marry me? Not because of Lewis. He's finally dead and out of our lives. I love you, Harriet. You don't know what a miracle that is. Perhaps, with time, you can come to love me back."
As Harriet absorbed his words, joy flooded her, and she laughed. "Too late."
"What?"
"I already love you."
Ant flashed her that crooked grin and picked her up, twirling her around.
She let out a little scream and held him tight.
"Guess we haven't had a normal courts.h.i.+p, have we?"
She laughed. "We certainly haven't. Do you think we can manage a more comfortable married life?"
"I certainly hope so," he said fervently.
With her arms draped around his neck, Ant carried her over to the boulder and set her feet on the surface, holding her waist until she could stand on her own.
Now she was almost his height. He looked into her eyes. "Guess I'm always going to look for things to set you on so I can kiss you right."
"You can make stools for me all over the house," Harriet murmured, leaning forward to press her lips on his.
A week later, Harriet stood in the Cobbs' kitchen, wearing the first silk dress she'd ever owned. Mrs. Cobb, as happy as Harriet had ever seen her, bent down to straighten the misty-gray folds of her skirt, while Samantha Thompson, clad in the dress she'd worn to her own wedding, placed her veil over Harriet's head, then stepped back to survey Harriet, tears brightening her blue eyes. "You look beautiful, my dear Harriet. This color really brings out your eyes."
Harriet had to blink answering tears away. "Thank you for lending me your veil."
"Enough, Harriet," Samantha said in a firm tone. "You've already thanked me three times. I know it's only been a week and a day for me, but I wish you all the happiness I've found with Wyatt."
Mrs. Cobb straightened, fluffing out Harriet's puffed sleeves. In an unexpected gesture of affection, she took Harriet's hand. "I, too, wish you happy, Miss Stanton. I was hard on you, I know. But it was because I was concerned about you. A woman's good reputation is above jewels."
Harriet exchanged an astonished look with Samantha. She couldn't help glancing out the window to see if any pigs happened to be flying by, but the sky remind clear of porcine creatures with wings.
Mrs. Cobb sniffed, as if holding back emotion. "Soon, I'll be calling you Mrs. Gordon."
Surprised and touched, Harriet squeezed Mrs. Cobb's hand. "Thank you, Mrs. Cobb."
As if putting sentimentality behind her, Mrs. Cobb released Harriet's hand. "Mr. Cobb told me that after Mr. Gordon left the meeting of the town leaders, the men all had a bet that he'd marry you before school started again. That's why they didn't protest more about you living together."
"A bet!" Harriet wasn't sure whether to feel horrified or amused.
Mrs. Cobb sniffed again. "Not really a bet because they were all in accord, so there was no one to bet against. Mr. Cobb swore me to secrecy."