Come Rain or Shine (34 page)

Trick rolled his eyes and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Emmie. I forgot he hadn’t told you yet.”

His words registered. “My house is gone.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“And what was carved into the old barn?”

“Moll,” he answered.

Emmie felt bile rise in her throat. The same thing Mr. Parbour and Will Thomas had called her. Something clicked together in her mind.

“Trick, that stranger who showed up at the house with Mr. Johnson was Parbour’s brother wasn’t he?” she asked.

Trick nodded. “Mr. Johnson introduced him right before the shooting started. He said the bootleggers had united. He said Kentucky no longer answered to the boys from Chicago.”

“Bootleggers? I get that for Johnson but aren’t Parbour’s family revenuers?” Emmie asked, confused.

Walter nodded, putting the story together before Emmie. “No. He was only a revenuer to eliminate the competition.”

Trick nodded in agreement. His eyes were hollow as he said, “Then he said some crude things about Millie being with me. Parbour said she was his gift. They were going to use a nineteen year old girl to unite their families.”

“How would any of this be your fault?” Emmie asked.

“I pulled first. I didn’t know about the man in the car. I thought Silas and I could take them, I guess. Hell, the truth was I was pissed at the things he’d said about me and Millie that I wanted to shoot that son of a bitch right between the eyes. Looks like I got what I wanted,” he sneered. “And now my brother’s blood is on my hands.”

“Trick, don’t,” Emmie said, trying to comfort him.

“No, it’s true. We didn’t even get all the answers we needed from him. I could tell Silas was going to needle them for more information. He didn’t want to fight them until we had more men. He was right.”

An awful sort of quiet ate up a few minutes. Trick finally looked over at Walter and spoke, “You need to go be with them though. I’m counting on you to get the word to Al. I’d go do it myself but I can’t leave him right now.”

Walter nodded, understanding. Emmie stood and walked him to the front door of the hospital. She watched until he pulled out onto the main road. When Emmie came back to Silas’s room, Trick was inside. His head was bowed in prayer. He wiped his eyes and made the sign of the cross, then bent down and kissed his brother’s forehead. He looked up, saw Emmie, and nodded for her to come in.

The nurse had given him a shot to ease the pain. His breathing was slow but easier. She walked over and kissed his forehead. Emmie leaned over him and brushed her fingertips across his forehead and through his hair. With each swipe of her hand she told him of times she’d seen him as handsome, funny, brave or strong: when he’d tossed her his jacket on the first day they’d met, when he’d taught her to dance, when he’d given her the box he’d found in her house, when he’d sent Mr. Thomas flowers . . . flour sacks, peacock feathers, pants, flasks of apple pie to make her feel at home, the college applications, the children’s books, Bell House, ice skating, and finally she talked to him about the ring he’d given her and his promises.

She leaned down and put her lips against his as she said, “All I want is for you to promise to come back to me, Silas.”

Chapter Forty-nine

E
mmie awoke to the gentle pulling of her hair. She batted her eyes and took in her surroundings. Her head rested on the side of the hospital bed, her body stiff from hours spent in the small wooden chair someone had brought in last night. She felt the pull again. Pushing herself back, she found Silas’s hand was running through her hair with clumsy movements. Her eyes met his. They were open, only barely, but they were open for the first time since they’d arrived at the hospital yesterday afternoon.

“Mo Chuisle.” His voice was so raspy.

“Silas,” she cried, moving to stand over him. Emmie ran her hands through his hair. “I love you, Silas.”

The corners of his mouth turned up like he was trying to smile but it turned to a grimace as he tried to sit up. He reached over to hold the tender spot on his chest. “Trick?”

“He’s right here. Silas, we’re both here. Let me go get the nurse. You need more pain medicine,” she said, running her fingers down his cheek.

“Trick,” Silas said a little louder.

Emmie leaned over and nudged Trick who had propped himself up on the ground against the chair she had been sitting in. He awoke with a startle. Impulsively she saw his hand reach for his holster. She gently put her hand on his. “It’s fine. Silas is asking to see you.”

Trick jumped up and looked down at his Silas. For a moment his face clouded with sadness at the sight of his older brother pale and tired, but he forced the emotion away and a smile spread across his face. “It’s about time you woke up.”

The corner of Silas’s mouth tilted in a grin at his brother’s joke. He swallowed hard before he asked, “Who?”

“You were right, brother. Steve Johnson was still very much alive and he was Mr. Johnson’s pawn in this game. He was the coward shooting from the car. You were right,” Trick repeated before he went on. “You got him before you went all the way down. He has met his maker. I took out Parbour and in the end Walter took Johnson.”

Silas nodded and blinked a few times before his eyes closed again.

Trick would retell the story five more times that day. The stress and pain medication were causing Silas to be only half coherent. The doctor came in late that evening to give an update. It seemed Silas’s life was saved by only a few inches. Had the shot been a few inches lower it would have gone through his heart. The bullet had gone all the way through, a clean hole the doctor had called it. It was a horrible way to describe the injury. Nothing about the hole looked clean to Emmie.

By the third day Silas began to ask to go home and openly refused most of the pain medication. He grumbled as much as Walter when he wasn’t getting his way. They still didn’t know exactly when Silas would be out of the hospital. The doctor said he was keeping him until the wound’s risk of infection subsided. It had been only three days but it seemed to be healing so far. Emmie insisted on having the nurses teach her how to change his bandages, saying she would need to know how when they went home.

“Okay, Mr. McDowell needs his rest, Miss,” the nurse said when visiting hours were over. The first day he was at the hospital Trick had talked the nurses into leaving them alone, but these last two days the nurses had moved to the top of Emmie’s most-annoying-people list.

“Surely, it wouldn’t hurt if I stay a few more minutes.” Emmie tried to smile sweetly. The smile went nowhere.

“I’m sorry, Miss, a rule is a rule,” she said, jotting something down in Silas’s file.

Emmie started to argue but felt Silas squeeze her hand. She turned to him and he was smiling. It was good to see him smile. He’d spent the whole day complaining he wasn’t some bedridden old man and didn’t like being treated like one.

“You need to get out of here for a little while,” he said.

Emmie frowned at him. Maybe he wanted to be alone.

“Have you even left this hospital? I’m pretty sure every time I’ve opened my eyes— morning, noon, or night—you’ve been wearing that same dress.”

Emmie looked down at her calico long-sleeved dress. Her own clothes had been covered in blood but she refused to leave the hospital, so Walter had brought her one of Mae’s.

“Like I’ve been saying, I’m not some bedridden old man. I’d like for you not to look like an old woman.” His face split into a wide grin.

“I think I make high-necked calico look quite nice, Mr. McDowell.” She smiled and her face fell. “I don’t want to leave. I’ll wait outside, close by so you can rest though, and I won’t upset these nurses. They already aren’t too keen on the idea that I’m changing your bandages.”

Silas shook his head and rubbed her hand. “Go. There’s a shop just down the street if I remember right. Go buy yourself something nice to wear. Something like you wore the night of the Irish party in Chicago. Give me something to look forward to when you come back.”

Emmie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her mouth. “You are unbelievable.”

“You deserve some time out of this place. I’ll see you in a few hours. My wallet is on the table,” he said, nodding to a bag with his belongings.

“I don’t want to go shopping while you are laid up here, Silas,” she said, rubbing his hair.

He grabbed her left hand and took a good look at the ring. She could tell he was remembering when she had changed it over to her other hand.

“Emmie,” he looked up at her with sad eyes, “I’m not going to hold you to a promise you made to a man you thought was dying.” He grabbed the ring and started to slide it off her finger.

“No.” She pulled her hand back and cradled it against her body. “No. I meant what I said. Dying man or living man. Left or right, Silas. I was already yours. I don’t care about school. There’s more to happiness than the four walls of a classroom. Sometimes you don’t know what you want until you have it. That’s how I feel right now.”

“I believe that is how you feel right now. I’m just not sure that’s how you’ll feel years from now,” he said quietly.

“I am sure. I want you. I pick you,” she said. Silas groaned and then grimaced, holding his left side. “Now is not the time for this conversation.”

Silas nodded giving in to her for now. His eyes were closed as he started to speak, “You know why I picked that ring?”

“No,” she said, gathering her things.

He opened his eyes and grabbed her hand. Silently he ran his fingers over the stones.

“It’s you and me. Me,” he said, touching the black onyx in the center, “and you,” he touched the circle of creamy white pearls surrounding the black stone. “You, surrounding me in light. Lying in that truck on the way here, I looked up and the sun was shining behind you. Your angel face was surrounded in light, looking down at me with so much love. I thought it was the last time I’d see you.” His eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

Emmie leaned down and kissed his lips. She left her mouth there, breathing him in. Unfortunately, the nurse chose that moment to return to the room.

“Miss, the man needs to rest and this is highly improper,” she squawked, sounding like an old hen.

“Yeah well, I was just kissing him goodbye,” Emmie said, never taking her eyes away from him. He laughed and then sucked in a breath of air through his teeth at the pain.

“If you won’t go shopping, try to find a place for me to stay when I get outta here. That’s going to be happening soon. I’d like to be able to kiss my girl without being walked in on.” He grinned at the nurse. Emmie smiled at his request. Silas didn’t need a place to stay. He needed a comment to fluster the nurse. To his satisfaction, it worked.

“Out,” the older woman said, pointing to the door.

Emmie couldn’t help but laugh as she walked past her. She stole one last glance at Silas before she left the room. He winked. She closed her eyes and released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She knew without a doubt he was going to be okay.

Chapter Fifty

E
mmie was no more than fifty feet from the hospital when she spotted something that made her stop in her tracks. It was a large fancy sign with big, bold, red letters:
Future site of Stone’s Crippled Children’s Hospital.
She walked over to the sign and ran her fingers along the letters. This must be founded by the doctor who works with Max. Hadn’t Mae said they were trying out their methods on kids like Max in an effort to expand in the future? It must be working. She took in the residential area spotted with a handful of medical buildings. So that must mean Max was close. She walked a little farther down the street keeping her eyes out for anything that might give her a clue where they were working with him.

After a moment of searching she spotted a little girl with crutches and thick braces on both legs walking into a large white Victorian house. Emmie followed the gravel drive to a sidewalk that led to the front door. A makeshift ramp had been built on the front of the house. A few mothers and their toddlers sat in chairs at the entry. The two small parlors had been converted to an exam room for children, filled with a mix of handmade toys and medical equipment. The children, nurses, and physicians seemed to be so engrossed in their work, no one noticed her. The kitchen was fully functional and again filled with a couple families. One mother was crying while another consoled her. A few kids ran by, playing tag. Emmie thought they must be siblings of children being seen here, judging by their agility as they moved. She peeked to the back yard and found some dads huddled under a tree. This place was organized chaos. She understood the need for a new facility—people were crammed in every corner of this house. She still had seen neither hide nor hair of Max. She went upstairs and found the bedrooms were actually being used as bedrooms. Only they were severely overcrowded. Each tiny space held at least two beds and a couple cots. Emmie watched as a father and two children emerged from one of the rooms.