Christine Dorsey (30 page)

“Tough...” Samantha repeated the word and a sad smile curved her lips. “He doesn’t look very tough now.” She trailed her finger along his ashen cheek.

“Why don’t you get some rest. I’ll watch him for a while.” Jake wasn’t surprised when Samantha shook her head.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Samantha folded Will’s hand in her own. “Will was only three when Mother died. He doesn’t remember much about her.” She slanted Jake a look. “I’ve told you this before, but I... I feel so...”

Jake moved his chair toward her. “Samantha, don’t do this to yourself.”

Samantha straightened her back. “You’re right.” She sniffed. “I’m looking for the worst. Will’s going to be all right.” Samantha settled the quilt higher around his neck, trying not to notice the freckles that stood out so against his pale skin.

“You’ve taken care of lots of hurt people, haven’t you? During the war, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“And they got better, didn’t they?”

Jake heard the plea in her voice, but he couldn’t lie. “Some of them.”

“Some?” Samantha knew what he said was true but it didn’t keep the words from causing a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“I was a doctor, Samantha. Not a miracle worker. Not by a long shot.” Jake pulled himself from the swirling memories invading his mind. “But I think Will has a good chance. His leg should be all right, and he already woke up once.” He didn’t say that the boy had lost a lot of blood or that lying in the cold mud and rain hadn’t helped him.

Samantha seemed to accept his words at face value for she settled back into her chair to wait.

And Jake settled into his memories. Had he really thought he’d escape from anything by traveling west? Jake rubbed his jaw. He tried not to think about all the men and boys he’d seen wounded and crying in pain. He tried not to recall how many of them had died. But tonight, seeing Will lying motionless on the bedstead, he couldn’t help himself.

The memories seemed to suck him in, making him feel once again the pain of being ineffective... useless before the onslaught of war.

“Jake.”

Jake sat up abruptly, looking first at Will, then toward Samantha. He could tell by her expression that she’d called him several times before he heard.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you’re a doctor?” Samantha had wondered about that ever since he’d wakened from his fever.

“Because I’m not. Not anymore.”

“Is it something you can turn your back on?”

Jake’s only answer was to stand. “Do you want some more coffee?”

“No.” Samantha stared at the hands folded in her lap. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Didn’t you?” Jake paced to the doorway and stopped. Turning, he pierced her with his green gaze. “You want to know why I gave up being a doctor? I’ll tell you.” His fingers shot back through his rumpled hair. “I didn’t care anymore. Soldiers would be brought to me and I’d perform surgery or I’d saw off their leg... their arms... and I didn’t even look at their faces. They weren’t like people to me. They’d live or they’d die and I didn’t care. I couldn’t feel... anything,” Jake finished softly.

“I don’t believe that.”

Jake’s bark of laughter was self-mocking. “You don’t want to believe it.”

Samantha pushed back her chair. She expected him to leave when she started toward him, but instead Jake held his ground, his expression defiant. “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t want to believe it. But there’s more to it than that. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel something when you took care of Will. I watched you.”

“Will’s different.”

“Is he?”

“Yes.” Jake bit off the word.

Samantha shook her head. “No. I saw your face when you took care of Will. You cared... and not just because you know him.”

Jake raised his hand to touch her hair, then thought better of it. His eyes were sad. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“Then tell me.” Samantha did give in to the desire to touch. Her fingers rested on Jake’s sleeve.

Jake’s gaze held hers. The line between his brows deepened before he looked away. He was shutting her out. And Samantha wasn’t certain why that hurt so much. But standing here with her brother, the only person she had in this world, hurt, she needed to know. “Tell me,” she said again and held her breath as he began to speak.

“It’s like I lost a part of myself.” Jake paused, shaking his head slowly. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” He went on before she could answer. “Being a doctor was all I ever wanted to do.” He looked down and smiled. “Even when I tried to run away to sea, I wanted to be the ship’s doctor.

“When fighting broke out, I knew I had to help. Believe it or not, there was a moment of indecision about which army to join. I’d gone to school in the North, in Philadelphia.”

“Then why did you join the Confederacy?”

Jake shrugged. “Richmond was my home. My family lived there... my wife’s family. And I felt loyalty to Virginia. Besides, I didn’t see the differences as clear cut as you did... do.”

“But I—”

Jake held up his hand in surrender. “I know how you feel about slavery. But I didn’t own any slaves. That issue wasn’t so clear for me. And there were other matters, states’ rights, and... well anyway, I decided it didn’t really matter which side I joined as long as I... helped relieve suffering.”

Will moaned and Samantha rushed to the bedstead. Joining her, Jake touched the boy’s cheek and checked his head wound for fresh blood. Satisfied that everything was going as well as could be expected, Jake sat down. “He’s not running a fever. I really do think he’s going to be all right.”

Samantha’s smile was broad. “Thanks to you. You helped him and you can help others.”

Jake leaned his chair back, balancing it on two legs. He didn’t want to argue with Samantha, but he didn’t think she was right.

“S
am?”

Samantha jerked awake, almost tumbling off Jake’s lap. She’d fallen asleep huddled in his arms in the rocking chair her parents had brought from Massachusetts. Jake’s hand clasped around her waist, righting her, and their eyes met briefly before she leaped up. She crossed the few feet to the bed... and Will.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Samantha brushed strands of wheat blond hair off his forehead, careful of the knot on his head.

“Thirsty,” Will countered with a voice rusty from disuse. “And hungry, too.”

Tears stung Samantha’s eyes as she glanced down to where Jake had pulled back the quilted cover and was examining Will’s leg. He glanced up and winked and Samantha forced herself not to hug first Will and then Jake. Instead she smiled, blinking back tears of happiness. “I think I can fix you something. And as for being thirsty...” Samantha cradled Will’s head and gave him a drink from the tin cup beside the bed.

Several times through the night, Will had awoken, and she and Jake had taken turns offering him sips of water and tea. But though he’d moaned about the pain then, he’d never seemed alert the way he did now.

“Sam.” Will grabbed her wrist as she moved away from the bed. When she turned back around, he continued, “It was Moore.”

Samantha didn’t speak for a moment. She could feel Will and Jake watching her. Through the long night, worry about Will’s recovery had kept thoughts of who’d done this at bay.

She’d suspected Landis Moore, of course, but somehow she couldn’t accept that even he would hurt Will like this. Her father had openly challenged Moore and she’d defied him and his friend Bundy Atwood. She had no doubt either of them would hurt her if they could. But Will?

“Oh, Will, are you sure?”

“I heard him, sis.” Will succumbed to a fit of coughing and Samantha’s gaze flew to Jake. He piled pillows under Will’s head and suggested Samantha give him another drink. The sip of tea seemed to help, but Will still looked pale.

“Don’t talk now, Will. There’s plenty of time to—”

“No!” Will’s voice was frantic. “You’ve got to know.”

“Then tell us, Will.” Jake moved a chair over close to the bed and motioned for Samantha to sit down. “Just take it slow and we’ll listen.”

“All right.” Will took a deep breath. “After you left the creek, I remembered my hat. I left it in the cornfield. So I went back. That’s when I heard them.”

“Heard who, Will?”

“The men.” Will strained to sit up and Jake gently pushed him back onto the pillows. “They were talking about burning the field. Said that would show you.” Will’s gaze shifted to Samantha. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so high and mighty then.”

“Oh, Will.” Samantha reached out toward him. “They were trying to hurt me and they got you instead. I’m so sorry.”

Jake’s hand clasped over her shoulder. “No one’s blaming you for this, Samantha.”

“What Jake says is true, Sam. This was my own fault.”

“Will, I don’t think—”

“I tried to stop them, Sam.”

“Will.” Samantha’s voice was full of exasperation.

“I know I shouldn’t have. I shoulda’ come for you and Jake. But—”

“You certainly should have. You’re just a boy. You could have gotten yourself killed!” Samantha bit her bottom lip to keep from falling apart. It didn’t help as much as the strong arm Jake draped around her shoulders.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Hey, we’ve all done things in the heat of the moment that weren’t the brightest,” Jake said, then grinned at the expression of relief on Will’s face. “Just remember that people like Landis Moore aren’t the sort any man should go up against alone.”

“I know that now, Jake.”

“Good.” Jake pulled a chair forward, straddling it. “Now tell us what happened next.”

“I stepped into the clearing by the cornfield. They were surprised to see me, that was for sure. Even though they had scarves pulled over their faces, I could tell they didn’t expect to see no one. They just kind of sat there on their horses lookin’ at me. Till I called out Moore’s name, that is.”

“What happened then?” Jake rested his chin on the arm slung over the chair back. His stance was as relaxed as his voice—for Will and Samantha’s sake—but inside he was seething.

“Nothing really. He didn’t say nothing anyways, just kind of nodded to his men. They started coming at me.” Will paused. “It was real scary, with them on horses and some of them holding up burning brands... But I didn’t hightail it yet.”

“ ‘I know it’s you, Landis Moore,’ I said. ‘And you too, Ab. And Bundy.’ I recognized his bay from the other week when he was here,” Will said, turning toward Samantha.

“I thought about running for the cabin, but by this time they had me surrounded except for the cornfield at my back. There were maybe six of them. I didn’t get a good count. But I did hear Landis tell Ab to take care of me so I lit out through the rows. I’ve always been a pretty fast runner, haven’t I, Sam?”

Samantha clasped his hand. “Yes, Will, real fast.”

“But I wasn’t fast enough this time. Ab’s horse caught me real quick. He kept bumping into me. Then I fell down. The last thing I remember is looking up and seeing hooves coming down toward me.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not much, but...”

“You remember enough though, Will.” Jake stood. “Why don’t you get some rest now. Samantha and I will fix you something to eat.” Jake held out his hand to Samantha, and after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted it. They were almost to the door when Will’s voice stopped them.

“Did they burn the cornfield?”

“No.” Jake turned around and grinned. “It rained.”

Samantha allowed herself to be pulled through the front room and out the door of the cabin, but as soon as it closed, she dug in her heels. “Where are we going? I thought we were going to fix Will some breakfast.”

“We will, actually you will. Hell, you know I can’t cook. But first I want to talk to you.”

“If it’s about what Will told us, I suspected Landis Moore from the beginning. I just never thought he’d hurt a boy.”

“Well, now we know.” Jake leaned against the morning glory-wrapped porch post. “I’m going to hitch up the wagon, and after we eat, I want you to pack what you need.”

“What I need for what?”

Jake’s expression was incredulous. “A stay in town.”

“Town.” Samantha’s hands rested on her hips. “I’m not going to town.”

“The hell you’re not.”

“Listen, Jacob Morgan. This is my farm and I’m not leaving it. We’ve seen what Moore tried to do to the corn crop. Besides”—Samantha hung her head—“we don’t have money to spend for a room in town.”

“Now you listen to me.” Jake pushed off from the post and advanced on Samantha, finally looming over her. “What we saw is what Moore’s capable of doing to you or Will. Now when he finds out Will survived the fire, he’s not going to feel very secure.” Jake paused. “And I have money for the room.”

“Perhaps I should take Will,” Samantha admitted. “But I’ll find a way to pay for it myself.”

“You’re going to town too. And I’m paying.”

“What about the farm?”

“The hell with the farm. Besides you can’t begin to protect this place by yourself.”

“By myself?” Samantha swallowed. “But what about you?” She knew he wasn’t staying forever, but after he’d pulled her into his lap last night and held her so gently and protectively, she hoped... But his next words proved her wrong.