Chapter 21
Spencer made his way home and wasn’t surprised to find Carrie waiting for him.
What did take him aback was that she was ready to take him to Knowles without further ado.
All the way back from the jail, Spencer had tried to figure out how he could convince her to let him talk to Knowles, but here she was urging him to come with her to Dr. Compton’s house.
“I think you should talk to him, but please promise me you won’t argue with him or try to hurt him. He’s quite sick.”
“You must have a pretty low opinion of me to think I would strike a man who couldn’t fight back.”
Carrie shook her head. “I don’t have a low opinion of you, but I know that people tend to forget themselves and the situation when they let their anger take over. You have a lifetime of rage built up against Eugene Astor. If Knowles is your man, well, isn’t it possible you’ll forget yourself?”
“I suppose it could be. It depends on what he says. If he doesn’t care about what he’s done . . . if he’s not sorry . . .”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Even if he’s sorry, Spencer, it’s not going to take away your pain.”
“Your father said I needed to forgive him. I don’t know if I can.”
“Ask God to help you. He forgave us, and we killed His Son. Or rather our sin did. Nevertheless, we played our part. Forgiveness isn’t saying that you approve or even accept his reasons for doing it. My mama always said that forgiveness was letting go of a burden we were never meant to carry.”
“Your ma and pa are pretty wise people.”
She gave his arm a squeeze. “I’m just starting to realize how very wise they are.”
They made their way from the house and headed north. These days they walked everywhere, and while Spencer didn’t mind it, he did worry about Carrie. Traffic was terrible, and not only that, but as a doctor she might need to get somewhere quickly.
“I should get you a carriage.”
She shook her head. “I don’t mind walking. I used to walk all over Chicago. Cheyenne is certainly less of a risk.”
“That’s true, but I worry about you all the same.”
“I’m sorry I got so angry earlier,” Carrie said after a moment of silence. “I haven’t worked a lot with living patients. This man’s condition has played with my emotions. I’m frustrated that there’s so little I can do. It really makes me angry.”
“I was wrong to lose my temper, and I apologize. I had a talk with your father, and he helped me to better see things.”
“He has a way of doing that.”
Spencer reached out to take hold of her gloved hand. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
She nodded and stepped a little closer. “I don’t want to fight with you either. I may seem controlled and logical most of the time, but I can get quite passionate about things. You might as well know that about me.”
“I do. It’s part of what I love about you.” He gave her a smile.
Carrie seemed not to notice. “If Rowland Knowles is Astor . . . then so be it, but I’ve only known him as a man in desperate need. Unlike you, knowing him as a killer and threat to your own well-being. It’s funny how that makes such a big difference.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just that when I was younger, I noticed how people often took up offense for their friends or family when someone was doing them wrong.
While I might not have liked having my family or friends hurt or treated wrong, I wasn’t someone who did that.
I mean, I reasoned through things and thought very simply about it all.
That didn’t lead me to being offended on their behalf.
But with my patients, I feel quite guarded about them and their needs. ”
“Being protective of them makes sense to me. You understand what’s wrong with them to begin with, and you don’t want anyone to cause them further harm. I can understand your reasoning.”
“Even as I read through the notes other doctors had made on Knowles’s condition, I wanted desperately to find a solution, some small thing I could do that those other doctors had somehow missed. I wanted to save his life.”
“You’re a good doctor, Carrie. Of course you would want to do that. I admire that in you.”
“I’m glad you do. But I also understand you’ve searched your entire adulthood to find this man and see him pay for what he did. I want you to be able to talk to Knowles. At the same time, I want to spare Mr. Knowles any additional trauma or pain.”
“I promise to go easy on him. Honestly, Carrie. I just want the truth from him. I want him to tell me why he killed my father.”
She met his gaze, and her blue eyes searched him as if looking for some hidden detail. He stopped and pulled her closer. “I promise. You may not know me as well as I’d like, but you can count on my promise. I won’t hurt him.”
“I believe you.”
They began walking again, and when they reached Bruce Compton’s large house, Carrie took hold of Spencer at the door.
“Let me examine him first and make sure he’s up to having a conversation with you.”
“All right.” As anxious as Spencer was to see the man, he knew it was important to do things Carrie’s way.
“Oh, Carrie, I didn’t know you’d returned,” Mrs. Compton said, coming into the small front office. “I heard the front bell.”
“Spencer wants to talk to Mr. Knowles, and I thought I’d better check him out beforehand. Where’s Dr. Compton?”
“He’s gone at the moment. A message came that someone needed to see him at the Inter Ocean Hotel.”
Carrie put her gloves and hat aside and took up her black bag. “I’ll go to see Mr. Knowles, Spencer, and then come back to get you in a moment. You might as well take a seat.”
He nodded and smiled at Mrs. Compton before she turned to leave.
He sat feeling awash in emotions. If this man was Astor, it would be the first time he’d seen him since that day.
The longings of that ten-year-old boy edged to the forefront of his feelings.
He had wanted so much to save his father’s life.
To somehow bring him back from the dead.
For the shooting to have never happened.
Then Spencer remembered a moment from a few weeks ago. He had stumbled into a man as he was leaving the house, and Spencer was returning home. That had to be Knowles, yet Spencer hadn’t recognized him. Perhaps he wasn’t Astor.
“Spencer, you can come ahead,” Carrie said from the doorway.
He was surprised at how quickly she’d returned. He gave her a questioning gaze, and she shrugged.
“He wants to see you.”
“He wants to see me?” Spencer felt his heart pick up its pace. “He knows who I am?”
“I don’t know. I only told him that my husband wanted to talk to him.”
Spencer followed her through the door and down a very short hall. There were two doors on either side, and Carrie opened the one to the right.
She touched Spencer’s arm. “Try to keep things calm.”
“I will as best I can.” Spencer stepped into the room and fixed his gaze on the older bearded man lying in bed. He was propped up slightly with extra pillows and gave the slightest smile.
“I figured it was time we had a talk.”
Spencer felt a shiver go down his spine. The voice was familiar. The wrinkled, bearded face not so much.
“Eugene Astor.”
The older man nodded. “I am, although folks around Cheyenne know me as Rowland Knowles. Come sit with me.”
It was hard to accept the frail-looking man in the bed was the same one Spencer had spent a lifetime searching for. Nevertheless, he came and drew a nearby chair up to the man’s side and took a seat.
“I wondered when you’d come.”
“You knew I was here?” Spencer couldn’t imagine Astor sticking around if that were the case.
“The day I came from having seen your wife and ran into you, I knew you. I could never forget that face. You look just like your father.”
“The man you killed.”
“Yes, for which I’ve never stopped paying.” He frowned and slowly shook his head. “I never intended for him to die. I wasn’t shooting to kill. I’d never killed anyone before . . . or since.”
“What do you mean? You knew he was after you. If you didn’t mean to kill him, why did you shoot?”
“I was only going to wound him. I figured to graze him in the hip or leg. I’m an excellent marksman.
Just before I fired, however, your father dropped to his knee.
It startled me, and I fired. The bullet I intended for his hip hit his head and killed him.
I was stunned, but at the same time I knew I’d sealed my fate as well as his and yours. ”
Spencer felt as if Astor had struck him in the gut. “My father knelt to fire when it was . . . was important.” His breath seemed to catch in his throat, and the words wouldn’t come. He kept seeing his father lying there in his arms. Blood poured from the head wound as his life slipped away.
“I’d never seen death up close and personal like that.
I’d avoided the war, as you probably know.
I’d never been one for fights or spilling blood.
When my brothers were killed, I wasn’t anywhere around.
I wasn’t able to attend their funerals without being found, so even then I didn’t witness them in death.
“I know it’s probably difficult for you to believe me on this, but I didn’t have any intention of killing your father or anyone that day. I don’t even carry a gun anymore. I’ve spent my entire life haunted by your face and scream. You were just a little boy . . . what were you, ten? Twelve?”
“I was ten. It was the first time I’d witnessed death.”
Astor drew a ragged breath. “I hated myself for what I’d done, but I didn’t want to die, and I knew your father would kill me if I tried to run.
After I shot him . . . killed him . . . I knew your father’s fellow Pinkertons would hunt me down and that would be the end.
They’d pass judgment on me and hang me from the nearest gallows.
I didn’t want to die any more than your pa wanted to. ”
“But he didn’t get a choice.”