Hidden in a Whisper (44 page)

THE RAINS FINALLY CAME, but they were too late to save most of Morita. The southern portions of town, including the church, the school, many businesses, and even the fire department, all fell victim to the blaze. The depot remained intact, as did several other buildings that were quickly converted into temporary housing for the resort guests. Those who were left in their bedclothes were found something to wear, and before the morning train moved in from Lamy, near Santa Fe, and farther up the line, a telegraphed plea went out from Fred Harvey. Informing the telegraph operator in Lamy and Albuquerque that the resort had burned down, he asked for extra blankets, clothes, and anything else that might help aid the residents of Morita.

With the morning freight came a substantial amount of food and other goods, and only a few hours later a special Santa Fe passenger service was brought in to move the victims of the resort fire to Albuquerque, where they could recover from their shock before moving on to other destinations.

Rachel took up residence with Simone and Jeffery while her girls were disbursed, at Fred Harvey's discretion, throughout the town. Braeden took his leave of Rachel once he'd seen her safely to the O'Donnells, since he needed to deliver Reginald Worthington and Tomas to the marshal. Rachel understood, but she hated to see him go. She had worried about ever seeing him again when Reg had refused to free her. Now she didn't worry about whether or not he'd come back, but rather, how things would be for them now that this tragedy had taken place in their lives.

“You are awfully deep in thought,” Simone said, coming into the front room.

Rachel stood at the window, staring out at the only part of town that remained. “I can't help but wonder about my future.”

“I know what you mean,” Simone replied. “I don't know what we'll do. I mean, Jeffery still has his job with the Santa Fe, but there may be no need for someone of his caliber to remain here in Morita.

Especially if Mr. Harvey and the railroad decide against rebuilding.”

“Is that what they're thinking?” Rachel questioned, moving away from the window with a slight limp.

“I think the doctor should look at your leg,” Simone stated. “In fact, I insist. Now, are you going to make me drag you over there or do I need to run Jeffery down and get his help?”

“I just twisted it,” Rachel said. “Reg had me tied by the ankles. I tried to get free and during the process I made matters worse. I didn't even notice it until after all of the excitement died down, so it can't be all that bad.”

“Nevertheless, you aren't a doctor and neither am I. Dr. Krier is just across the street, so let's have you hobble over there and have him look at it.”

Rachel looked at her friend and laughed at the look of sheer determination on her face. “All right. I'll go see the doctor, but you needn't accompany me. You have to take care of yourself and that baby. Whether or not we have a job to go back to in Morita or a place to live, you and Jeffery have a wonderful future to look forward to.” She hoped the words didn't sound envious. She couldn't have been happier for Simone, but at the same time, she couldn't help longing for her own life to come into proper order.

“Don't forget your shawl,” Simone admonished. “It's very chilly this morning. Jeffery wonders if there won't be an early winter this year.”

“Could be,” Rachel said, retrieving a navy blue shawl her mother had crocheted for her. “If Braeden comes back …” she said, opening the door and glancing with a hopeful eye down the road.

“If Braeden comes back, I'll tell him what he wants to hear. That you finally went to the doctor and that he's invited to stay for lunch.”

Rachel smiled. “Thank you, Simone. You're a good friend.”

Half an hour later, Dr. Krier finally had a chance to look at Rachel's ankle. He gave her some ointment to help with the rope burns and advised her to stay off her feet for a day or two and keep her foot propped up. She came out of his examination office telling him that she would do what she could to rest, while reminding him that as the woman in charge of the Harvey Girls, she had certain responsibilities that needed to be attended to.

“She'll rest,” Braeden said quite seriously.

Rachel looked up, surprised to see him standing near the front door. She smiled and felt a rush of warmth come to her cheeks as he winked at her and came to help her.

“I'll see to it that she goes to bed and stays there, if I have to sit on her.”

Dr. Krier chuckled. “I'd hardly think that necessary, but then again, I don't know her as well as you obviously do.”

“She's a stubborn one,” Braeden said, reaching out to Rachel.

Rachel took hold of his arm and was surprised to see him grimace. “What's wrong?”

“It's nothing,” he said.

“Oh really.” She put more pressure on his arm and watched his face pale. “I don't believe this. You're hurt and you didn't even tell me.”

“Come on in here,” Dr. Krier instructed.

Braeden rolled his eyes. “I'll be fine. There are a great many more folks who need your treatments. I'm not that bad off.”

Rachel put her hands on her hips. “Braeden Parker, do you mean to disobey the doctor's direct order?”

“It's just that—” “It's just nothing,” Rachel said, pushing him in the direction of the examination room. “You have no excuse that I want to hear. Now get in there.”

Dr. Krier laughed at the confrontation between them while Braeden rolled his eyes and gave up the fight. He let Rachel hobble in behind him and help him take off his coat. Once this was done, Rachel could see for herself where the sleeve had been burned. Braeden tried not to grimace as he rolled up what was left of the sleeve, revealing a rather nasty-looking burn.

Shrugging, he smiled sheepishly at Rachel. “I didn't even know it was there until this morning.”

Rachel nodded. “And you were worried about my ankle.”

He grinned and lowered his voice. “From now on, I intend to worry about every part of you, Miss Taylor. Not just the ankles.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm again. Looking away, Rachel hoped to regain a portion of her dignity by changing the subject. “So what will happen to Reg and Tomas?”

“The marshal's going to see about getting Tomas off easy. He figures the boy was easily persuaded given the crisis at—hey, that hurts!” he declared, forgetting how his words might affect Rachel.

She hurried to his side. “Is it all that bad?”

Dr. Krier grunted and continued working. “It might not have been so troublesome if you'd taken care of it first thing. You've got all sorts of dirt and bits of cloth imbedded here. It's going to smart as I clean it out, but if I don't, it'll probably get infected.”

“Do what you have to, Doc. I'll be a good patient,” Braeden told him.

Rachel tried not to look worried as Dr. Krier continued working on the ugly wound. Braeden seemed to sense her concern and reached out to touch her hand.

“It'll be all right. You'll see.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I know.”

“Look, if you don't have the stomach for this, you can wait in the other room. I'll walk you back to the O'Donnells'when Doc finishes up.”

“No, I'm fine. I guess I just keep thinking how much worse it could have been.”

“It's amazing that more folks weren't killed in the blaze. That thing went up like kindling. It didn't even seem to matter that the exterior was made of brick,” the doctor said as he finished picking at the oozing burn. He went to a cabinet and brought back a bottle of solution, which he promptly poured onto the wound.

Braeden's hand tightened painfully hard around Rachel's hand, but she refused to even so much as wince. He seemed to realize quickly what he was doing and, even though his face grew white and perspiration formed on his brow, he loosened his grip and apologized.

“Sorry. I wasn't expecting that.”

“That's the worst of it,” Dr. Krier said, replacing the bottle in the cabinet and opening a drawer below. “I'll bandage it up and you can be on your way.”

Rachel sighed with relief when the job was finally completed. Braeden asked about the bill, and it was only then that Rachel remembered she'd not paid the doctor either.

“I'll need the tally for mine as well,” she told the doctor.

“I'll see to hers,” Braeden replied. “She's my responsibility now.”

The doctor raised a brow and leaned in close to Braeden. “So you've asked her to be your wife, eh?”

“Not yet, but I'm working on it. I would have probably taken care of the matter had you not waylaid me here.”

Rachel looked at them both in disbelief. What was Braeden thinking, discussing their future in such a casual manner?

The doctor just laughed, told Braeden the total, and waited while he counted the money into his hand. Rachel stood speechless as Braeden pulled on his singed and sooty coat and escorted her to the door.

“Come along, Miss Taylor, there are some matters that we need to discuss.” He looped his good arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Lean on me rather than putting your weight on that ankle.”

“You tend to your arm, and I'll tend to my ankle,” Rachel countered. “I rather hoped you'd take care of my arm,” he said as they stepped onto the front porch. “Along with the rest of me. And while you were doing that, I'd take care of you.”

Rachel looked up at him rather hesitantly. “Are you sure that's what you want?”

He grew very serious. “I'm positive. What about you?”

Rachel felt her heart flutter. Marriage to Braeden Parker was what she'd dreamed of for over six years. Marriage, children, a life lived with love.

“Hey there, Braeden!” Marshal Schmidt called from the street.

Rachel felt a sense of frustration wash over her, but instead of showing it, she turned to greet the lawman with a smile.

“What's up, Larry?” Braeden questioned.

“Just thought you'd like to know I found Smith. He was hightailing it off to Albuquerque on horseback, but I caught up to him. Seems he doesn't know much about horses and managed to team himself up with an ornery critter that didn't cotton to the saddle.”

“Probably got one of the carriage horses,” Braeden said with a smile. “So what about the others?”

“I let Tomas go on his pledge to show up for the trial. I have your Englishman ranting and babbling on one side of the cell, while Smith is muttering and cursing on the other side. Guess if we're going to have this kind of activity, I'm going to have to build a bigger jail.”

Braeden shook his head. “From the looks of this mess, I'm not so sure it'd be worth the effort.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that myself,” the marshal said, glancing back over the town. “I might just be out of a job once everything is said and done.” He seemed to consider this for a moment, then tipped his hat. “Well, just thought you'd like to know about Smith. I've had Mr. O'Donnell wire the necessary folks, and now it's just a matter of getting all the facts in place. Oh, and I talked with Miss Carson. She told me how you tried your best to save Miss Brooks. I don't think there'll be any problem with folks assuming otherwise.”

Braeden nodded. “That's good news.”

“I'll be seein'you around,” Schmidt said, moving off in the direction of the depot.

“Do you suppose anyone would have actually thought you capable of leaving Ivy in that fire?” Rachel asked.

Braeden shrugged. “Sometimes folks believe whatever they want to—whatever seems to fit their logic at the time. Facts don't always matter.”

Rachel felt the full weight of his words. “Of course, you're right. I guess no one knows that better than I do, especially after what I did to you—to us.”

Braeden held her close and maneuvered her down the steps. They walked in silence as they made their way back to the O'Donnell house. Pausing on the back steps, Braeden turned Rachel in his arms. “That's all in the past. I want us to start fresh. I want us to share a complete trust in each other, no matter what the circumstances.”

Rachel nodded, losing herself in his steely blue eyes. “I want that too. I'm so sorry for the way I wronged you. I'm so sorry for the wasted years. I put myself into a self-imposed prison, then prayed to find a key to let myself out. I was very foolish, and I can only hope that you will forgive me.”

Braeden raised her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You could never do anything so bad that I would refuse to forgive you. I love you, Rachel. I always have and I always will. Nothing about the past matters anymore. Only the future. I want us to be together always, and I'm hoping you want the same thing.”

Rachel's heart felt as though it might pound right through her chest. Touching his cheek gently, she saw all the longing in her soul reflected in his eyes. She drew a deep breath and opened her mouth to answer, when Braeden's proposal was interrupted for a second time.

“Braeden! Rachel!”

It was Jeffery O'Donnell, and Rachel could only sigh, letting her breath out in an anticlimactic way. “Hello, Jeffery,” she said, wishing she could say good-bye instead.

“Jeffery,” Braeden said, his voice edged with the slightest hint of irritation.

Jeffery looked at them both for a moment. “Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” Rachel replied quickly. “Yes, you are, Mr. O'Donnell, and I'd appreciate it if you would go inside and keep your wife company. I don't need her to come out here as well.”

Jeffery seemed a bit taken aback by Rachel's instruction and Braeden just laughed.

Leaning over to Jeffery, Braeden whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, “I've asked her a rather important question twice now, and if I don't get an answer the third time, I'm not going to ask again.”