Whirlwind (17 page)

Read Whirlwind Online

Authors: Cathy Marie Hake

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Religious

BOOK: Whirlwind
11.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Call me Daniel, Millicent.”

He passed Arthur to her, then turned and disappeared from sight. In the few minutes he was gone, Millicent glanced at their surroundings. “It looks to be a fair-sized town, Isabelle. Either it’s new or they all keep up their places. Did you notice the mercantile?”

Isabelle sank down beside her. “The towns all look alike. How can we be sure this is the right place?”

Light from another gas lamp illuminated a portion of the railway sign. “The sign says it’s Gooding, and the rail porter called out the stop. We’re in the right place.”

Isabelle’s head dropped. “It doesn’t much matter where 170 we are.”

“You’ll think differently when we get to the store. The living quarters are upstairs.”

That was all Daniel had said. Though Millicent hoped he’d give more details, he’d spoken of the ground level in vague terms. Since he’d bought it from a cousin, maybe he hadn’t bothered to ascertain the particulars. He trusted his relatives.

Boxes and crates appeared from one of the train’s rear cars. Daniel gestured, and more followed. She’d been so preoccupied with her sister in New York, Millicent hadn’t noticed just how much her husband had shipped to America.

He strode back. “That’s it.”

“You brought enough to stock the store.” Compressing her lips, Millicent wished she hadn’t blurted that out. “I apologize.”

“Those are the goods for our home. The store is already well stocked, but I’ll want to put my own stamp on things.”

A lanky man walked up. “Dan!” He slapped him on the shoulder. “Took you long enough to show up!”

“Orville. As I telegrammed, there were extenuating circumstances.”

The stranger flashed a smile at Millicent and Isabelle. “Well, well.” He smoothed back his sparse hair and rocked from toes to heels and back. “You sly old goat! You mentioned a nanny, but I expected only one, and an old nag at best.”

“Millicent is my wife. Millicent, this is my cousin Orville Clark.” Daniel’s tone carried icy reserve.

“Wife?!”

“Mr. Clark.” Millicent gave him a polite nod.

“And the other lady is my sister-in-law, Mrs. Quinsby.” Daniel moved between his cousin and Isabelle. “If you’ll give me the key, I’ll settle my family in.”

“Sure. Let me get those bags.” Orville hefted two.

Daniel took Arthur from her arms and murmured, “Arthur’s too heavy for you to carry about.”

Mindless of the hour and the fact that Arthur was asleep, Orville Clark prattled all the way across the street. Cramming the key into the lock, he shot her a sheepish look. “I’ve been runnin’ back and forth, trying to keep this place and the feedstore going—it’s two blocks over,” he said, pointing. “It’s tough, operating two businesses. If Dan wasn’t my cousin, I wouldn’t have waited all this time. Plenty of men wanted to buy my mercantile.”

A bell jangled as the door opened. Arthur startled and screamed. “Shh.” Daniel gently jostled him. “Shh.”

“Guess your boy’s gonna have to get used to that.” Orville swept his arm in a grandiose arc. “After you.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind, could you please light a candle or lamp?” Due to the dirty windows, the light from the gas lamps on the street barely filtered into the building. Millicent couldn’t see much from her post just outside the door, but what little she saw made her eager to grab a broom. She didn’t—mostly because she knew that as badly as the place needed a good cleaning, she’d not be able to withstand the temptation of whacking Orville with whichever end of the broom would reach.

“Okay, sure. Dan, I can take your boy if you wanna carry your wife over the threshold.”

Millicent stood her ground and stared at Daniel. “Save your back for worthwhile pursuits, Daniel. Mr. Clark, is there a cot upstairs for the baby?”

“Better’n that. There’s a sturdy oak cradle.”

“A cradle,” she said to Daniel, “won’t do. Arthur’s too old. He’ll climb out. Especially since we’ve not yet looked about and cleared dangers, we simply cannot place him in a cradle.”

“We don’t have any cribs. Cribs is what we call ’em here. Since you’re in Texas, you’ll want to give things the right handle. Anyway, I just tell people to order ’em from a catalogue.” Orville went inside and lit a lantern.

Millicent saw that the muscles on both sides of Daniel’s jaw kept twitching. “I can keep Arthur beside me in the bed,” she whispered as they followed Daniel’s cousin into the store.

“I hadn’t reckoned on you havin’ a missus. Sorta planned on the nanny and shortstack sharin’ one room, and I’d just bunk in the other room with you till Mrs. Vaughn moved outta the rooms above the feedstore. She’s got herself a passel of kids. Five, actually, and the littlest one’s just now crawling. I didn’t have the heart to bump her out till I paid her all the cash money for the feedstore, what with her bein’ a widow and all.”

Isabelle let out a low, keening sound. The lantern illuminated her pallor and tears.

“Aw, don’t go gettin’ all upset. A little dustin’ and scrubbin’ and—”

“Millicent, you and Isabelle remain here. I’ll have my cousin show me the second level.” Daniel took Orville’s arm and propelled him toward the stairs.

“Daniel, don’t you want me to hold Arthur?”

“No,” the men said in unison. Orville tacked on, “We’ll stick him in the cradle.”

Daniel had started up the stairs, so she couldn’t tell if he’d reacted at all to his cousin’s assertion.

Her sister looked ready to collapse. “Isabelle, there’s a chair.

Have a seat for a few minutes.” Millicent dumped down the bag she’d carried. “A sip of cool water will do you some good. Let me find the water bucket.” She squinted at the jumbled shelves. Chewing her lower lip, she walked up and down the two small aisles and around the perimeter. No matter where she turned, messes surrounded her. A water bucket wasn’t anywhere to be found. She made her way back to her sister.

Footsteps rang out on the stairs. “It’s the practical solution.” Daniel’s voice sounded firm.

Whatever he’s decided, I’m going to support him. My husband deserves my loyalty.

“I can bunk down on the sofa in the parlor. Mrs. Quicksly—”

“Quinsby,” Daniel half growled.

“Yeah. Well, she and the baby can use that one room while you and your bride have the master bedroom.”

Millicent jerked back in reaction, accidentally knocking over a display of Dr. Sheffield’s dentifrice in a tube.

“Millicent, is everything okay?”

“Yes.”
Sorry, Lord. I didn’t mean to lie. It’s just that I want everything to be okay. It won’t be—not if I’m supposed to share Mr. Clark’s bedchamber.

Oblivious to the tumult his words caused, Orville blathered on, “The sofa’s hardly ever been used, so the stuffing is good. I’ll sleep like a baby.”

Afraid the men would see the blush that set her face afire, Millicent bent to pick up some of the toothpaste. She wound up sneezing from the dust.

“Bless you,” Isabelle murmured without any inflection or even a quick glance at her.

“That settles it. Millicent, I can’t have you risk becoming ill. You, Isabelle, and my son will spend a few nights at the boardinghouse until we . . . tend to matters.”

Relief poured through her. “The boardinghouse.”

“Spendin’ money needlessly. There’s enough room here.”

“The decision is mine.” Daniel’s tone brooked no argument. “Millicent, gather what you’ll need for the night. Orville, I’ll trust you to see that our goods are brought over from the train station while I get my family settled over at the boardinghouse.”

The valises they’d used on the boat contained the essentials. A quick count reassured Millicent she’d have enough nappies for Arthur. Swiping up the baggage, she declared, “Ready. What about you, Isabelle?”

Isabelle gave her a lost look. “What am I to do?”

“You’re going to the boardinghouse with Millicent and Arthur,” Daniel said, keeping his tone mild.

I’m going to have to thank him for how gentle he is with her. There’s probably not another man on the face of the earth who would have done what he has for us. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Millicent—” Daniel adjusted his son over his shoulder—“I’m going to reach up and lift the bell so it doesn’t sound. When I tell you to, open the door.”

“I will.” Just as she and Frank strived to relieve Isabelle of her worries, she and Daniel would work together to rear his son, shelter Isabelle, and run his store.
A man can only do so much. With all of those burdens, the last thing he needs is to worry about me. I’m going to labor alongside him, pitch in, and take care of myself.
Resolved to be as independent as possible, she curled her fingers around the doorknob. “I’m ready.”

As they walked down the boardwalk, Daniel murmured, “It wasn’t very gentlemanly of me to have you open the door; but had I asked Orville, he would have made more noise than the bloody bell.”

Try as she might, Millicent couldn’t help herself. With a valise in each hand, she couldn’t even cover her mouth as she giggled.

For the first time in two days, Daniel smiled. “I ought to apologize for my appalling language.”

“That man wouldn’t hush.” Isabelle’s comment made Millicent miss a step. As Daniel steadied her, Isabelle continued. “If you hadn’t lifted the bell out of the way, I would have fed it to that rude oaf.”

It took a second for those monotone words to register. Millicent and Daniel exchanged a shocked look, and she started to giggle again. “Oh, Isabelle! He was horrid, wasn’t he?”

The door to the boardinghouse was locked. That realization scared Millicent into rapping smartly on the door.
I have to stay here. Otherwise, I’ll be expected to share a room with . . .
She swallowed hard and knocked louder and faster.

“Just a moment, please.” A few minutes later, the door opened. A woman in a beautiful mauve dress stood back so they could enter. She’d lit a few lamps. The parlor and dining area both gleamed dully in the light, and the scent of lemon and beeswax told that she took pride in her business. “I’m Mrs. Orion.”

Daniel entered last. “Mrs. Orion, I’m Daniel Clark, new owner of the mercantile. Until I tend to matters there, my family will need lodging. Do you have a room available, and have you a crib?”

“I have two rooms. If you’ll give me a few moments, I’ll see to the crib.”

He noticed how Isabelle clung to Millicent. “What do you deem better—for you each to have your own room, or would you prefer to be together?”

“Together. Please.”

“If you’ll show us to the room, Mrs. Orion, I’ll set my son down on the bed and assist you with the crib.” They did as he suggested. When Daniel transferred Arthur to the crib and Millicent leaned over to cover him with his blanket, Daniel bent closer. “I’ve confided in Mrs. Orion about Frank’s recent death. She’s also widowed.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude washed over Millicent again. Daniel anticipated problems and nipped them in the bud. Things were going to work out.

Scant minutes later, Isabelle wearily laid her head on the pillow. Millicent pulled back the covers and started to climb in. Isabelle shot upright. “This can’t be. It can’t.”

“Shhh.” Wrapping her arms around her sister, Millicent started to lie down.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes you should.” Millicent tugged the covers upward.

Isabelle threw them back down. “A w-w-wife should be with h-her h-h-husband.”

“Oh, honey.” Millicent fought tears of her own. “Frank’s gone.”

“I know.” She looked devastated, and her tone sounded utterly forlorn. “But Daniel Clark’s your husband. It’s been a few days on the train, but this is supposed to be your w-w-wedding n—”

“Shhh.” Millicent succeeded in covering her sister and holding her in a tight hug. Whispering in her ear she coaxed, “Sleep.”

“But . . .”

“It’s not that way, Isabelle. It’s merely a marriage of convenience. He’s shown us inestimable Christian charity.” Weary as she was, Millicent lay in the bed and plotted how she could possibly repay Daniel Clark’s kindness.

ThumpThumpThumpThumpThump Boom!
Daniel bolted out of bed and tore open the door. A cloud of dust filled the air.

“What is going on here?”

“Mr. Eberhardt asked the same thing,” Millicent muttered.

“Millicent, where are you, and what does—” he caught himself just before saying
a dead man
—“Eberhardt have to do with this?”

“I’m at the foot of the stairs, stuck. And he’s not here. He just thundered that same question at me in the very same tone the last time I saw him.”

Upon hearing she was stuck, Daniel headed down the stairs. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Dust motes still swirled heavily in the air. Squinting, he spied his bride. Both hands on her skirt, she yanked. He couldn’t yet tell what kept her trapped, but if he left her to her own devices, she’d probably suffocate in the dust her movements stirred up. “Wait a minute, woman.”

“I’m sorry.” She used her wrist to push back an errant lock of hair. A smudge of dust slashed across one cheek, and her nose had a speck of something on it, too. “I didn’t mean to awaken you.”

“With the racket you made, you probably woke the dead.”

Millicent’s eyes widened and her lower lip trembled.

Why did I say that? I’m an idiot.
“My apologies. I—”

She shook her head and straightened her shoulders. Quickly, she swiped her hand along the stair rail and held it out for him to see. Dust coated it liberally. “Impossible.” Her voice shook, but she forged ahead. “No ashes. Just dust.”

Her bravery stunned him. She had every reason to dissolve in a puddle of tears, yet she’d gathered her composure. He could do no less. Taking her cue, Daniel made it down the last few steps. He grimaced at the mess before him. “The place is inside out.”

Gratitude glimmered in her eyes, letting him know he’d reacted the right way. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’d have said it’s outside in. Fear not. You and I shall win this war.”

He inspected the ungainly crate pinning her hem against the wall. He pushed against it and tugged her free. “I don’t recall directing you to join the battle.”

Other books

Babyland by Holly Chamberlin
Stranger in Town by Brett Halliday
Bitter Blood by Rachel Caine
This Christmas by Jane Green
The Abortionist's Daughter by Elisabeth Hyde
Bad Guys by Anthony Bruno
Ava and Taco Cat by Carol Weston