Chapter 28
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Ben murmured.
Hattie leaned over the back of the set and touched his cheek. “Hush. Just rest.”
“Is he goin’ to be all right?” Tommy asked, holding the reins easily in his small hands. He craned his neck around to look at Ben. “I don’t want to come back home haulin’ a corpse!”
“He’ll be fine,” Hattie insisted. He had to be.
“If you say so,” Tommy replied doubtfully, turning back to face the front.
“I do.” Hattie was grateful for the boy’s company as well as his help. Tommy was strong for his age, and he’d managed to help her lift Ben into the wagon. He was a good driver, too, which gave Hattie the opportunity to look after Ben as much as she could.
The bullet wound in his back was her biggest concern. Hattie had pressed a folded cloth over it and cinched it tight with his belt, making the best bandage she could, but how much blood had he already lost?
Hattie noticed how long the shadows of the trees had gotten. “We’ll have to stop soon.”
But Tommy shook his head firmly. “Nope. We’re almost there. It’s just under a day’s trip when the weather is good. It might be a little dark, but we’ll make it.”
She wished that information would help her relax. “Will your parents be happy to see you? Or will they be upset that you left the inn?”
Tommy considered this a moment. “We need the money, but I heard Mama Kincaid say she wasn’t goin’ to send anythin’ else back to my family until spring. I might as well be helpin’ out at home if I’m not gettin’ paid.”
“Is there a doctor in town?” she asked. Hattie should’ve asked it before, but she’d been so focused on getting away from Traveler’s Rest that she hadn’t thought ahead very far.
“Oh, yeah. Far side of town in a little blue house. Doc Armstrong. I can take you there,” Tommy replied confidently.
“We should get you home first,” Hattie insisted.
Once again, the boy shook his head. “Nah, I live right across the street!”
Antelope Springs was Tommy’s world, and he proved it as they rode into town a short while later. It was nearly dark, and there was little to see beyond the squares of light in the windows, but Tommy was familiar with it all.
“That’s the general store. It’s not open right now, but it will be as soon as the sun comes up. He likes to make sure the farmers can come in. Back that ways apiece is the blacksmith. He’s an odd fellow and keeps to himself, but he can shoe a horse real good.” Tommy pointed as they rode.
Hattie frowned, thinking about all the empty bags and crates in the back of the wagon, waiting for the supplies the orphans needed so badly.
“The Clancy family lives there.” Tommy gestured toward a two-story house with an iron fence. “They got a lot of money. Mam says they don’t deserve it, because they just make all their money breakin’ everyone else’s backs.”
“And what about your father?” He hadn’t mentioned anyone but his mother.
“Oh, he’s in the graveyard. That’s over there.” He pointed to the right, where a few modest headstones poked from the ground in the last blue light of day before night took over. “He died when I was just a little’un.”
“I’m sorry. That’s hard.”
Tommy shrugged and pulled the wagon to a halt. “Here’s doc’s place.”
The boy ran inside and returned a moment later with Doc Anderson. He was an older gentleman with a receding hairline and drooping jowls, and he eyes Hattie cautiously as they brought Ben inside.
“Right here,” Doc Armstrong directed them past the foyer and into a smaller room, where they laid Ben on a bed.
“Forgive me,” Ben begged as his body sagged into the mattress.
“Take it easy, son.” Doc Armstrong straightened and looked at her. “I’ll see what I can do. You can wait in the foyer.”
She was reluctant to leave Ben’s side, but she did as she was told. “Are you going home now, Tommy?”
“Well, I’ll put the horses up first,” he volunteered. “Doc has a stable right behind the house. That won’t take but a minute. Boy, is my mam gonna be surprised when she sees me!”
Hattie sat in one of the wooden chairs lined up against the wall in the foyer. She looked down at herself and realized what a state she was in. Her dress was damp and dirty. She had far less blood on her clothes than she had lately, but dark dots were splattered around the calico flowers.
Doc Armstrong’s gentle voice was muffled through the wall. Every time Ben groaned, Hattie’s body tensed. Was he going to make it? Or would there be yet another death she felt responsible for.
A flicker of movement through the window caught her eye. Hattie stood and pulled aside the curtain, just in time to see Tommy run across the street to a little house. The door opened, revealing a woman’s silhouette. Tommy’s figure melded with it as they wrapped their arms around each other.
The boy was home safe. She couldn’t bring back her own family, but at least she’d reunited someone else’s.
A tall clock in the corner of the foyer marked the seconds with solemn ticks. Each one reminded her of how much time had passed since Ben had been shot. Her stomach rumbled. Her mouth was dry. Her eyelids grew heavy. There would be no relief until she knew Ben’s fate.
Finally, the door opened. Doc Armstrong wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “I think he’s going to be all right, but he’s lost a lot of blood. If you’d gotten him here any later, I might be sending you down the street to the undertaker.”
She was on her feet. “Can I see him? I don’t want him to be alone.”
He tipped his head slightly to the side as though he was considering whether or not it was appropriate, but he nodded. “You can, but he needs rest.”
“Yes, doctor. Thank you.” Hattie hurried into the room. The doctor’s assurances didn’t mean much. Ben’s face was gray even in the warm glow of the candles near his bed. He was so still, his chest barely rising and falling as he breathed.
“Oh, Ben,” she whispered as she sat in the chair next to the bed. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”
Hattie touched his hair. Was this what Oscar had looked like when his body had been laid out for his funeral? She imagined so. The resemblance was uncanny.
In fact, she realized, their looks were an issue that could no longer be avoided.
“I know you’re resting,” she whispered. “You’re probably in the deepest sleep of your life, and you certainly deserve it after all you’ve gone through. I wasn’t sure I was going to get you out of there alive. I hope I get the chance to tell you all about it.”
She shifted slightly. The room was too warm after all of their cold travels, and it made her skin sticky.
“In fact, there are a lot of things I’d like to tell you about.
The first is that you’ll never again have to worry about Cutter coming after you.
He and his brother are both dead. I’m not sure about their mother.
I didn’t stop to check. I suppose that’s just another thing I’ve done wrong. It’s becoming a long list.”
Ben’s eyelids moved slightly, but she got no other response from him.
That was good, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get it all out if he was looking at her with those bright blue eyes of his. He’d ask questions, too. Once Hattie got started, she didn’t want to have to stop.
“Now, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can remember what I’m about to tell you when I wake up. That way, if something happens to me, you’ll know.”
She checked over her shoulder to make sure Doc Armstrong wasn’t returning, and then she swallowed.
“Oscar and I used to go to the creek. We’d just sit there in the shade with our feet in the cold water, and we’d talk.
We’d talk about all sorts of things, secrets, thoughts, feelings.
Whatever came to mind. That wasn’t the sort of relationship my parents had. It was nice.
“One time, he told me his father’s secret.
Randall Davies was a wealthy man, as I’ve mentioned.
He had Oscar with his wife, but he sired another child with a local woman of the evening.
The baby was given up, of course. Randall wasn’t going to raise a bastard, and I’m sure his wife wouldn’t have allowed it. ”
Hattie knew little about Randall’s wife. She’d give little more than a polite hello when Hattie came over, and that was only if she happened to be home. Mrs. Davies traveled extensively, going off to visit friends or family.
The knot in her throat made it hard to speak, but she’d gotten this far.
She had to keep going. “Oscar didn’t know anything about that child beyond its existence.
Boy or girl, where it went. But you look so much like him, Ben, and you were raised in an orphanage.
What if it’s you? What if you’re Oscar’s long-lost brother? ”
And if he was, then would Ben be angry with her all over again once he found out who’d killed Oscar? Ben would never have a chance to meet his brother, and it was her fault. How many families would have to suffer because of her?
“If you’re not Davies’ by-blow,” she said, wiping a tear from her face, “then you’re a cruel trick from God, sent here to mock me for my sins.”
Hattie took Ben’s hand between hers, willing warmth and life back into his body. “Just do me a favor, Ben, and live. I have no right to ask anything of you, but I’m asking anyway.”
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a knock sounded on the front door and jolted her awake. Hattie wiped the bleariness from her eyes as Doc Armstrong hurried to answer the door. She heard male voices in the foyer before they came in.
“This is Sheriff Burton,” Doc Armstrong explained. “I had to send for him because of the bullet wound.”
“Good evening, miss.” Burton’s wide shoulders and sharp eyes were imposing. He seemed to take in the whole room at a glance. “Can you tell me a bit about what happened here?”
“I didn’t see all of it.” she admitted. “I’m fairly certain he suffered all his wounds at the hands of Cutter Kincaid over in Traveler’s Rest.”
The sheriff’s brow tweaked ever so slightly. “He’s a man with a reputation.”
“Not anymore,” she said with a sigh. “He was holding Ben prisoner. He planned to torture him and kill him, so I shot him.”
“I see.” Sheriff Burton and the doctor exchanged a glance. “What’s your name, miss?”
She could say anything. She could tell any lie she wanted to, but Hattie was so, so tired of having to hide the truth. She didn’t want to run anymore, and there was no place left to go. She’d reached the end of it all, and it was time to face the future she’d been avoiding. “Hattie Monroe.”
Sheriff Burton rocked back slightly on his heels. “Hattie Monroe, you say? From the Prescott area? Daughter of Allen Monroe?”
It was odd to hear her father’s name on a stranger’s lips, but it didn’t surprise her that he knew of her family. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m afraid your name and description have been circulating through all the official channels lately. You’re under arrest, and you’ll need to come with me.”
“What?” Doc Armstrong spluttered. “Sheriff, I didn’t know I was housing a fugitive!”
“Relax, Doc,” the sheriff said with a slight smile as he put his hand on Hattie’s arm. “I’m not worried about it. Now what’s this young man’s name?”
“Ben Hale. I don’t think he’s on any of your lists.”
“No, I don’t believe so. Let’s you and I head to my office, and we can have a chat. Take care, Doc.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Doc Armstrong looked almost apologetic as the sheriff led Hattie out the door. He hadn’t trusted her, but he felt sorry for her.
Hattie looked at Tommy’s house as the sheriff bound her hands and put her in his wagon. She hoped Tommy and his mother were having a nice meal together, that the boy who’d been sent away to work for the Kincaids would have a chance at a good life no matter what the world tried to throw at him.
“Can I ask a favor?” she asked as they pulled away from the doctor’s house, leaving Ben behind.
The sheriff let out a short laugh. “Considering that you’re wanted for murder, you’re not exactly in a position to ask for things.”
“I know,” she said humbly. Hattie looked back, but the light in Doc Armstrong’s windows was hard to distinguish among the other homes. “Whatever happens to me, I want to see Ben one more time.”
Sheriff Burton pursed his lips. “I reckon that’s mostly up to him.”
It probably was. Would Ben want to have anything to do with her once the truth came out? Soon enough, he’d know that she was a killer.
“I was also wondering if you might be able to help me arrange something.” It was a slim chance, but she had to try.
“Ben is from the St. Thomas orphanage. The children have no food. He came here to get them some supplies so they could make it through winter. I don’t know how long it’ll be before he can leave, but he wouldn’t want those kids to starve. ”
At this, the sheriff looked pensive. “I’d have to talk to some people and see what could be done, but I’m not sure.”
As they passed the general store, Hattie realized she had a resource at her disposal that she hadn’t used yet. “My family has money. I suppose it’s mine, now. We can pay for whatever they need. You could contact my father’s lawyer, Paul Hawkins.”
He pulled up in front of the jail. “Don’t you think you’ll want to summon him for your case instead of helping out a bunch of orphans?”
“Yes,” she said, allowing the sheriff to help her down out of the wagon. Hattie had more confidence in getting food and supplies to the orphanage than she did in ever being free again. “I suppose so.”