Northern Star (29 page)

He followed the old woman down the stairs and along the hall to Perry’s room. Kicking the door wide with his foot, he issued commands to Molly, who was already throwing the bed covers back. “Get some brandy and something for her feet.”

Molly nodded. “There’s some downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

Hunter placed Perry on the white sheets. Her glorious hair spilled over the lacy pillows. For a minute he stared at her loveliness while she lay as if in sleep. In all his life he’d never seen such a wonder of beauty, nor felt such fear when he realized how close he’d come to losing her. Every nerve in his body had felt as if it were exploding when he’d topped the attic stairs minutes ago. From the hall he’d heard Molly’s scream and the noise of the panel falling. He had reached the top of the stairs at the same time Perry dropped the candle. His heart nearly stopped as he watched the fire spring up around her, a moment before she crumbled into the flames. Had he been any later, she could have been badly burned or even killed. He tenderly brushed a few strands of hair from her face, unable to hide
his smile at the relief—no, pleasure—that this was a real face and not just a figment of his imagination.

Molly appeared beside him. She shoved a half-filled glass of brandy into his hand and turned her attention to Perry’s feet. Though her gown hem was blackened in several spots, her legs did not seemed badly burned. “Hold her head up when you give her a little brandy. She’s had quite a shock, but it will bring her around,” Molly ordered as she covered Perry’s legs with a blanket.

Hunter sat on the edge of the bed, very gently lifting her head. As the warm brandy passed over her lips Perry’s eyes opened slightly.

“Molly!” she whispered in fright. “Molly, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, dear. How is the little lady?”

Perry’s hand rested on Hunter’s chest. In spite of his treatment of her, she felt safe from her nightmares in his arms.

“All you need is some sleep and you’ll be good as new in the morning,” Molly said as she moved away. She could hear Abram and Luke in the hallway. “I’ll go check on the others.”

Perry watched Molly disappear into the hallway before closing her eyes. She heard her friend directing Luke and Abram to the kitchen. The brandy had burned its way down her throat, relaxing her from inside. She pushed the horrible vision of the body she’d seen from her mind and relaxed in sleep.

Hunter held her for several minutes, feeling her relax in his arms. He gently laid her back among the pillows and drew the blanket up to her chin. As he moved her arm to put it under the covers, something fell to the floor. Bending, he retrieved his medallion. He smiled to himself as he lifted her hand to his lips. Turning her palm up, he saw the small scar running across her hand and remembered when she’d slashed it to save them. He kissed the scar tenderly, as if to take away the pain. The beautiful woman
before him and his angel were one. Placing the gold disc in her hand, he closed her fingers around it. “How could I have been so blind?” he asked himself. “Why could I not see beneath the dirt and old clothes? How could I have ever thought this tiny beauty to be a boy?”

As he kissed her forehead he remembered how a month ago her face had been swollen and blackened. Wrinkling his brow, he realized how badly she must have been hurt the last time he’d seen her. He strode to the door. How could anyone have beaten such a lovely creature? He hurried to find Molly and the answer to his question.

Hunter found Abram and Luke huddled at the kitchen table, with Molly standing above them as she halved a pie.

The old woman looked up at him and pointed her serving knife. “Well, speak of the devil. We was thinking we might have to come up and check on you.” Mischief twinkled in her eyes. She wasn’t the least frightened by the storm in his gray depths. She’d seen a great deal of life and had long ago learned the difference between anger and concern in a man’s eyes.

Luke rose awkwardly. “I wish to make my apologies, Captain Kirkland, for my rash actions earlier when I found you in Miss Perry’s room. I didn’t know you were the lady’s serious beau. Miss Molly explained it to me. I had no right interfering with two people in love.”

Lowering his head, Luke missed the sharp look Hunter shot Molly. The old woman grinned like a fat cat after Sunday dinner, knowing he couldn’t say anything. If he denied her claim, he’d reignite Luke’s fuse, which seemed short where Perry’s welfare was concerned. Hunter wasn’t sure he could deny the charge, anyway. He realized the feelings he had for her were deeper than anything he’d ever felt for a woman.

In defense, Hunter glanced at Abram, only to find his
friend smiling at his discomfort. “Why didn’t you tell me Perry was here?” Hunter snapped.

Abram raised an eyebrow. He’d rarely seen Hunter upset, even when in danger. Never had he found the young captain’s temper so amusing. “Miss Perry asked me not to tell anyone where she was. At first she was running away and afraid you’d take rash action if you knew why. Later she was afraid of what you’d do if you knew who she was.”

“And who is she?” Hunter asked, thinking she could not be worse than he’d guessed her an hour ago. She’d been so many things to him now, the truth couldn’t add any more surprises.

Abram looked down, not wanting to answer Hunter’s question. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you anything about who she was or who beat her up.”

Molly waddled around the table and crossed her arms over her ample breasts. “Well, I didn’t make no such promise, and I’m in a mood to speak my mind.” She didn’t even blink as Hunter looked at her with his stormy eyes. “But before I tell you anything, I want you to think about that poor child up there and not just your anger.”

“Agreed.” He placed his fists on his hips and waited, none too patiently.

“Best as I can tell, her father blamed her for her mother’s death, the Union army ran her off her land, and her grandfather thought she was her mother come back from the grave. Then up pops a snake name of Wade Williams who almost beats her to death for not wanting to marry him.” She jabbed her fat finger into Hunter’s chest. “Then, along you come, almost raping her tonight. From what I see, it’s a wonder the girl even speaks to the whole male population.”

Every muscle within Hunter tightened in anger. “She was to marry my cousin, Wade?” His words were a low whisper between clenched teeth. All his life Hunter had
held his emotions under tight control, but he now felt them snapping. “He beat her!”

Molly looked away, suddenly unable to watch the pain her words were causing. “Pretty near killed her for trying to run away. If Abram hadn’t hid her in that balloon of yours, I don’t wanna even think what might have happened to my little lady.”

Her final words were snuffed by the slamming of the kitchen door as Hunter bolted from the room. The three remaining occupants stared at one another.

Abram slowly stood. “I best go with him.”

“Don’t guess there’s much doubt where he’s going.” Luke reached for his coat.

Abram nodded. “Least I can do is see it’s a fair fight. Guess I always knew it would come to this someday.”

“Mind if I tag along? I’d like to be there when Wade Williams gets his due.” Luke turned to Molly and added, “We can’t do nothing about the body in the attic until morning, anyway.”

As Abram passed Molly he handed her a letter. “This came for Hunter yesterday, but I don’t think he’d mind Perry reading it.” He paused for a moment. “You know, Molly, he loves her. I could see it in him when he talked about her.”

“Yes, I know.” Molly followed them to the door, mumbling, “I only hope he stays alive long enough to realize it.”

*   *   *

Dawn was hesitantly lighting the sky as Luke opened the kitchen door. Molly was still in her rocker by the fire with Herschel curled on her lap. She raised sleepy eyes and asked, “Did Hunter find Wade?”

Luke plopped down on the long bench and pulled off his muddy boots. “Nope, but weren’t from lack of trying. We tromped through every boardinghouse in this town. Finally found where he’d been staying. The clerk said he’d packed and rode out not an hour before we arrived. He
told Hunter that Wade left bragging about getting back South in time to claim an inheritance.”

“Well, that’s that, then. We won’t see him again.” Molly rocked back in her chair. “How does a stack of buttermilk pancakes sound for breakfast?”

“You’re after my heart, woman.” Luke stretched his tired body and rubbed his stomach.

“That and a few other parts of men seem always available.” Molly chuckled as she stood. “While I stir up breakfast, why don’t you get the old strongbox from the cellar.”

“Sure, but don’t know why anyone would leave a locked strongbox in the cellar.” He pulled his boots back on. “Seems like he’d have stashed it under his bed.”

“Maybe Old Henry figured under the bed would be the first place someone would look?” Molly answered, more to herself than Luke.

“Well, nobody but a cook would fall over it down there.”

“That smart Old Henry,” Molly squealed, startling Luke. “He knew I’d find it there.” She clapped her hands. “Get the box, Luke. I’ll run up and get the keys.”

Luke cocked his head in confusion. For the life of him, he couldn’t explain Molly’s actions. She must have been tripping over that box for two years. Why was she so fired up about opening it now?

In less time than he thought possible, Molly returned, her apron filled with keys that danced in a nonmusical tune as she waddled. She spilled the keys onto the table and announced, “If one of these don’t work, we’ll blast the lock off.” She laughed in nervous excitement.

Selecting key after key, she tried each in the lock as she chattered. “Henry must have left somethin’ in this box. He knew I loved to cook. So he put it where I’d fall over the blasted thing daily. Those ignorant nephews of his must have never bothered to look in the cellar.”

Molly’s excitement was quickly melting into impatience as she threw useless keys across the room in disgust.

Finally her reasoning registered on his sleepy brain, and Luke moved to her side. As a key fit and turned in the lock, they both smiled in anticipation of untold riches. The lock fell away and Molly pulled the lid off the strongbox, staring in disappointment at its contents. “Papers!” Molly shouted loudly. “Ain’t nothin but papers and maps in the damn thing.”

Luke poked around the items. “Looks like some mighty nice maps in here.” He lifted out an envelope between his beefy fingers. “This here looks like a letter to you, Miss Molly.”

“I can read my own name, man. Give it to me,” Molly ordered, then laughter bubbled from her ample frame. “Trouble is, that be about all I can read. How about you?”

Luke echoed her laughter with his own. “Truth be known, ma’am, I was just guessin’ that letter was to you. I never had the time or the patience to learn reading.”

Molly stuffed the letter in her apron pocket, which already bore the outline of another envelope. “I was planning to let Miss Perry sleep, but I might take her some breakfast and ask her to read it to me.”

“Oh”—Luke slapped his forehead with his palm—“I forgot to tell you, Hunter said he’d be here at ten.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? I’d best wake Perry.” Molly rose and began preparing a morning meal. “Luke, take that box up to the office. I know she’ll want to look in it. Maybe she can make somethin’ out of all those papers.”

Minutes later Molly clambered into Perry’s bedroom, carrying a large tray of food. Perry smiled sleepily from beneath the covers, knowing Molly was trying to be quiet. “Be you awake, little lady?” Molly whispered.

“Yes, Molly, I’m awake. What time is it?” She yawned and sat up in bed, unaware of how lovely she looked with her hair spilling in a dark cloud around her shoulders.

“Near eight, I think,” Molly answered. “I need you to do some readin’ for me. Luke and I found this letter in that old strongbox that was in the cellar.”

Pouring a glass of juice, Perry crossed her legs in the middle of the bed. Despite all the excitement of last night, she had slept well and felt rested. “Hand me what you found, Molly. I’ll be happy to help.”

Molly pulled the two letters from her pocket and debated a moment over which to give her first. But curiosity outweighed duty, and she handed Henry’s letter to Perry.

With great care Perry opened the letter marked “To Molly—Important.” She studied the poor penmanship until she understood the impact of the letter. “Molly!” she shouted suddenly. “I know about the body in the attic. This letter explains it all.”

“Well, tell me what it says. I’m gettin’ nervous just knowing he’s still up there.” Molly shivered as she sat on the bed and helped herself to the biscuits she’d brought for Perry’s breakfast.

“The handwriting is very poor, but according to what’s written here, the body must be Henry’s partner. This is not a letter but some kind of confession stating that Henry’s nephews killed his partner during a robbery. The nephews were unaware of Henry’s presence in the back room at the time. Henry heard them plotting to kill him after Henry took over his partner’s half of the business. Only Henry decided to hide the body and stall for time. He knew his nephews wouldn’t kill him until they were sure they would inherit all of the company. He thought you would find this before you found the body.” Perry glanced up to see if Molly understood.

“Old Henry was no fool. That’s why he wanted no servants in the house,” Molly said, nodding her head as the pieces of the puzzle began to fit. “Poor old soul. I guess it would drive anyone to drink knowing there was a dead man sitting in your attic and that a corpse was the only thing keeping your kin from doing you in.”

“He put this letter in the strongbox, hoping you’d find it before the nephews did. I’ll bet they’re still wondering how the body of the man they killed had disappeared.”

Molly laughed, rocking the bed with her chuckles. “They must have had a few sleepless nights thinking of what they could do about it. They couldn’t go around asking if anyone had seen a body. They must have known Henry was lying about his partner disappearing, but what could they say? There was no one but the killers and Henry to say if the partner was alive or dead.”