Still House Pond (27 page)

“Thank you,” Copper had said when the woman poured coffee from a granite pot into cups she carried on a tray. “This is so kind of you.”

“My church wanted to do some working prayer,” she'd said. “This is a terrible thing. Terrible.”

Now finished with his respite, John was tying his bootlaces and getting ready to go back into the fray. He tested his theories. “Maybe she was dazed by the accident. Maybe she hit her head and wandered off to a farmhouse or something.”

“Oh, John, wouldn't someone know by now if that happened?”

He cupped her chin. “Don't give up hope. God will bring her back to us. I just know it.”

Later that morning, Copper was assisting in the treatment of burns. A man had just been carried into the depot on a canvas stretcher. He'd been pinned by the legs underneath the rubble, but he was alive and the burns were not too deep. They were painful, though, and the man cursed loudly whenever he was touched. Under the direction of a physician, Copper moistened the ugly wounds with water.

The man spat out an expletive.

“I'm so sorry,” Copper said.

“Can I sit up?”

They assisted him to a nearby chair. Grunting and groaning, the man positioned his legs across the stretcher. When Copper sprinkled finely powdered, common cooking soda into the wounds, his face stretched in a grimace. Ugly words streamed like sour milk from his mouth.

The doctor caught Copper's arm midshake of the cooking soda tin. “I'll finish. You don't have to listen to this.”

“I'm not offended. It's the pain that's talking.”

The doctor turned a steely look on the man. “We'll have no more of that.”

Taking the heel of one foot in the palm of his hand, the doctor lifted one leg and then the other in order for Copper to wrap strips of wet linen from ankle to thigh.

The man relaxed in the chair. “Man, that feels better. Sorry, lady.”

“That's okay,” she said. “I'll be praying for you.”

“You're a fine nurse,” the doctor said. “Where'd you take your training?”

“I'm not formally trained,” Copper replied. “I'm just observant.”

“Well, you're a natural,” he said, already turning to the next case.

Any other time the doctor's observations would have meant something to Copper. His words were the same ones Simon had told her years ago. Now all she wanted was a chance to help her daughter. There'd been only three litters brought up this morning, and with each one her hope was rekindled, then dashed when none bore Lilly Gray. With each hour that passed, Lilly's chances of survival dimmed.

She was dribbling teaspoons of water into the corner of the burned man's mouth, going slowly so he wouldn't throw it up, when she heard a way-too-familiar strident voice and saw the sheriff blocking the path of a way-too-familiar woman.

“Let me pass!” Alice Corbett Upchurch demanded. “I have rights!”

“Can you finish this?” Copper asked another helper. Giving the cup and teaspoon to the aide, she went to meet her sister-in-law. In all truthfulness, she hadn't given Alice a passing thought until this moment. And in all truthfulness she didn't want to give her one now. She didn't have the patience for it.

“How long were you going to let me sit in that hovel with strangers, Laura Grace? Why, it's no more than a tent, and there are no amenities.”

Copper winced at the formality of her given name. The one Alice insisted on calling her. “I'm sorry. I didn't think—”

“Of course you didn't. You're too busy running around taking care of everyone but Lilly Gray. Thoughtless.” Alice tapped her perfectly polished shoe against the depot floor. “You've always been thoughtless.”

Alice looked like she'd just stepped out of a bandbox. Not a wrinkle nor a smudge marred her clothes. The feather on her hat was dyed to match her royal blue promenade dress. Regal as a queen visiting her subjects, all she needed was a scepter. Copper noticed a freckle-faced girl with gingery hair standing reverentially a few feet behind Alice. A suitcase hung from one hand and, of all things, a hatbox from the other. Alice probably had her heating a sadiron on a camp stove this morning in order to press her outfit.

“How did you get here?”

“My butler brought me. You remember Joseph. He's tending to the carriage and the horse. As soon as we collect Lilly Gray, we're heading back.” Alice glanced around the depot, lifting her skirts the slightest bit and wrinkling her nose. “Now where is my niece?”

Copper bit back a hateful retort. She understood Alice's need to control the situation. Her fear must be as great as Copper's own. And she had probably sat in a folding chair all night hoping against hope for word. “You must be exhausted. May I get you a cup of coffee?”

“Indeed not. We brought our own supplies. Some woman brought food around this morning. I refused. Amy ate.” With a toss of her head, she indicated her maid. “But you know the working class—their stomachs are stronger than ours.”

“Alice!” Copper said more sharply than she'd meant to. “We haven't found Lilly.” Her voice broke on a sob. “I don't know where she is. I'm so afraid—”

“Don't carry on so. I brought money; we'll pay someone. There has to be a way.”

“I don't think you understand. Leave your things here and come with me.”

The maid set the suitcase and the hatbox on the floor.

“Amy, for pity's sake, don't put those down. Someone will steal them.”

Copper found Amy a seat. “Wait here,” she said.

Alice stepped delicately over rubbish as Copper led her to the ravine. They stood watching men maneuver the wreckage. They could hear the ripping sound of crosscut saws before a tree crashed to the ground.

“John is over there.” She indicated a heavily wooded hillside. “They're cutting a path so they can haul the debris out that way. It's not as steep as coming straight up the side of this gorge like the rescuers have to do.”

Alice hadn't said a word. She seemed to be in shock.

Copper knew just how she felt. “See what we're up against?”

A discreet cough and then a quiet moan escaped Alice's throat. “First my brother and now this. I simply cannot bear it.”

Copper slipped an arm around Alice's perfectly corseted waist. “I know. I know.”

Alice produced a handkerchief from under the starched cuff of her shirtwaist and blotted her cheeks. “This makes no sense. She's only a child. This can't be happening.”

“Wait,” Copper said when she saw two men struggling up the steep grade with another canvas stretcher. She stepped over the edge, slid in the dirt, fighting to keep her balance on the steep grade, and met them halfway up. “Please.”

The men stopped and let her lift a corner of the sheet that covered the body's face. Whoever it was, she was unrecognizable in death. But the long wavy hair that spilled over the canvas was auburn. Copper took the side of the stretcher, bearing some of the weight.

“You don't need to do that, ma'am,” one of the men said from behind the bandanna covering his mouth and nose. “It ain't fittin'.”

“I'm a nurse. I've seen death before,” Copper said, climbing with them to the top.

“Then we thank you,” he said.

Alice rushed over, blocking them. “Is it Lilly?”

Copper waved Alice away. This would shock her sensibilities. At the summit of the long incline, they clambered back onto the bank. The stretcher tipped. One thin, bluish arm slipped off the canvas. The lifeless hand dragged in the dirt before Copper noticed and tucked it back underneath the dirty sheet. Alice clamped both hands over her mouth and turned her back.

As she watched the men carry their burden toward the station house, Copper thought of what would be added to the roster:
female adolescent; auburn hair; brown dress/white collar; deceased
. She despaired. Some mother's precious daughter reduced to a single written line on a register in a ticket seller's cage.

The July sun was bearing down. Heat shimmered off the tracks. A bird took a dust bath beside the rail. The heat magnified the odor of decay. Alice raised her black parasol. Beyond the standing cars, a locomotive screeched to a stop. Two men jumped out of the cab and began to hook up the caboose that was still fastened to the other cars.

Copper shaded her eyes to watch. She had a sudden desire to search those cars before the men hauled them away. She grabbed Alice's free hand and dragged her along the far side of the track where the cars' doors stood open. “Give me a boost,” she said when they reached the door of the first car.

Alice didn't protest but carefully furled her umbrella before linking her hands to make a step. “You are being foolish,” she said as Copper receded into the gloom of the car.

“I have to look. Something of Lilly's could be in here.” She heard an odd noise at the door.

Alice was hanging by her waist, half in and half out. “Well, don't stand there gawking. Give me a hand.”

Copper pulled her in. “I'll go to the last car and come this way. You look in here.”

She hurried to the last car before the caboose. She searched each bench, getting on her knees to look under. Surprisingly there was little out of place. She supposed there were not so many injuries in this last car. Folks would have taken their possessions with them when they stepped off.

She went outside and across the wooden platform that sat over the knuckle couplers which connected the cars. The second-to-last car was much like the other. It had taken her about ten minutes. She needed to hurry back to Alice else they would be hauled off along with the tail end of the train.

She pushed the connecting door open, crossed the platform, and entered the first car. There was much more damage there. Alice was sitting on a bench seat, holding a baby in her arms. Copper couldn't believe her eyes.

“Some little girl's doll,” Alice said. “Look at the battered head. This is all so pitiful.”

Copper's heart stopped thudding.
A doll, just a doll.

“It makes you wonder if the child's head looks the same,” Alice said.

Copper let her sit there with her sorrow while she pulled clothing, shoes, and still-fastened suitcases out from under wooden benches. But there was nothing there of Lilly. Underneath her feet she felt the buck of the car. The locomotive let out a tremendous belching noise, and the train whistle blasted.

“Alice! We've got to get off!” She sat in the open door with her legs dangling in the air, gauging the drop. Pushing off with the palms of her hands, she planted her feet on the ground.

“I can't do that. I'll snap my leg bone.” Alice clung to the side of the door. Her eyes were wide with fright.

The train was picking up steam. Copper had a good mind to let her go—let her roll right on to Jackson. “Jump, Alice!”

Plopping on her stomach, Alice kind of shimmied out backward, falling on her rump, her legs sticking out of a fluff of petticoats. She looked stunned. If the situation hadn't been as it was, Copper would have burst out laughing. It wasn't often she saw her sister-in-law looking foolish.

“For pity's sake,” she said. “Help me up. I think I've injured myself.”

Copper hauled her up and dusted her off. Though Copper was sure Alice would be sore as a boil tomorrow, the only thing broken was the heel of one shoe.

“Get my umbrella.”

Copper raised it over Alice's cockeyed hat, giving Alice shade as they walked along the track.

“I simply must have another pair of shoes,” Alice said, limping. “I can't be expected to carry on in these.”

“What size?” Copper asked, laying the parasol aside and sorting through a drummer's busted barrel.

“Six,” Alice said.

Copper raised her eyebrows but played along. She held up a pair of size-six walking boots for perusal.

“Well, perhaps an eight,” Alice said, joining in the search. “This is just like an end-of-season sale at a department store.”

“Lilly loved the new shoes and the spats you sent for her to wear with her traveling outfit.” A picture of an excited Lilly posing in the kitchen in the fawn-colored suit popped into Copper's mind. She remembered how she dreaded Lilly's leaving, how she'd packed and repacked the wicker hamper, trying to offset any possible problem. “I didn't want her to come, you know.”

Alice balanced on one foot, trying mightily to unfasten her stylish alligator boots without tipping over. Her face flushed. “Are you blaming me?”

Copper bent to work the buttons on Alice's shoes. “I want to. I want to so badly.” She jerked off one dress boot and then the other. Alice steadied herself with her hand on Copper's head. It was easy to slip the size-eight patent-leather pumps onto her elegant arched feet.

“Why can't you just leave us alone? Why must you interfere?” Doubled over, resting her hands on bent knees, Copper heaved sobs from deep in her being. She cried until she couldn't breathe.

Alice patted her back. “Laura Grace? Laura Grace, please.”

Alice's voice sounded distant to her ears. The air sparkled with tiny pinpricks of light that faded to dark, blissful night. She was a child again. Caught up in her father's arm, she was safe. The nightmare was over.

Coughing and sputtering, Copper inhaled the familiar scent of ammonia. Her nose stung, and her eyes smarted like fire. A nurse waved an open glass vial under her nose. She pushed the hand away.

“There we are,” the nurse said. “We're coming around.”

“Let her breathe,” the doctor said.

Slowly reality sank in. She was in the depot, but she was the patient. Alice waved a folding fan in her direction. The doctor held her wrist at the pulse point. The nurse wet a towel and dabbed Copper's temples. The sheriff stood back, a look of dismay on his face.

“What happened?” she asked, still woozy.