Although Katie wanted to slink into her bedroom and lock the door, she took a deep breath, every nerve end prickling, and crept downstairs to check the doors. Front door, side doors, back door, all were locked. She moved quietly through the house on slippered feet, peering out of the windows. Moonlight and shadows lent an artificial quality to familiar objects, but nothing was out of order. She finally went upstairs to her room, but it was a long time before she could go to sleep.
Morning came and the women congregated at the breakfast table.
Appetites were missing. Tottie made waffles, and there was cereal. Lots of cereal. Enough to last until the Rapture, according to Tottie. Clara didn't come to the table. As soon as Katie finished her waffle, she went upstairs to tap on the door of the politician's bedroom.
“Come in,” a weak voice called.
Katie opened the door to find Clara lying in bed, face pale, eyes closed. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible. I'm sorry about the caviar. I know it's expensive, but my stomach just can't handle it right now. I know the request was extravagant. I'll have my people send you a check.”
“That would be deeply appreciated.” Ordinarily, Katie wouldn't accept the offer, but this wasn't a normal purchase.
“You and the others can eat it.”
“Actually, they tried it and didn't like it, and before I could get to it, Cleo helped herself.”
Clara opened her eyes. “The cat?”
“The cat.”
That was fifty dollars down the drain. Or down
the cat.
“I hope she enjoyed it.” Katie could swear that she saw Clara's lips twitch.
“Seemed to.” Katie cleared her throat. She hated to suggest this, because it would mean a trip to town with Clara. Their celebrity politician needed to stay out of sight, but if she was ill, she needed to see a physician. “Would you like for me to take you to a doctor? Little Bush has a clinic.”
Clara shook her head. “Tottie was just in here with a handful of zinc and vitamin C.” She indicated an empty mug. “She brought some kind of tea. I don't know what it was, but it tasted good. She said it would help the nausea.”
“Ah. Well, Tottie knows her teas.” She had a great store of herbal lore passed down from mother to daughter, generation to generation, part of her Cherokee heritage. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
“I'll be all right. It's just a bug. In time it will run its course.”
“Get some rest then, and I'll check on you later.” She turned toward the door, but Clara's voice stopped her.
“Katie?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for buying the caviar. It was nice of you.”
“No problem.” She didn't think the utility company would be as sympathetic, but she'd face that later. “You concentrate on getting well.”
Katie left the room thinking this was the nicest Clara had been since she arrived at Candlelight. Too bad she had to be ill in order to behave herself. Katie passed the bathroom and heard someone being sick.
Oh, please God, don't let anyone else
come down with this, whatever it is .
A moment later the door opened and Janet tottered out.
“I don't feel well, Katie. Do you think what Clara has is contagious?”
“It's possible. Why don't you lie down, and I'll have Tottie brew you a cup of peppermint tea to settle your stomach.”
“I don't think anything can settle my stomach. It feels like I've got a volcano rumbling around in there, and it just erupted.”
Katie grinned at Janet's sense of humor, and then realized she was serious. “That sounds terrible.”
“It is. Just pray you don't get it.”
Janet staggered back to bed, and as Katie went to the kitchen, she hoped neither she nor Tottie got sick. Who would keep things running if they were down? Tottie glanced up when Katie entered the kitchen. “Meg is sick too.”
“Oh, dear. Janet is too.”
“I can treat the others, but Meg should see a doctor. She's looking pretty bad.”
“I'll take her to the clinic. Is she awake?”
“No. She finally got to sleep around five.” Tottie rinsed a plate and placed it in the rack. “It can wait until she wakes.”
Katie put a cup of water in the microwave, waited until the machine dinged, and dunked a peppermint tea bag in the cup. At Tottie's questioning gaze, she shrugged. “There's nothing wrong with me. I just like the taste of it. I told Janet that I'd bring her a cup.”
“You sit down and drink your tea,” Tottie ordered. “I'll fix a cup for Janet, and then I want to talk to you.”
Katie sipped her tea, thinking it would be easier to simply buy a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, but Tottie's tea worked, and using the remedy kept the housekeeper happy. In the spring, summer, and fall, she kept the shed in back of the house filled with the fragrance of drying herbs as she replaced her supply of medicines.
The shelter was quiet, and Katie sat half dozing over her tea until Tottie returned. She stretched and yawned. Not enough sleep last night. Too much time spent lying awake worrying, with nothing to show for it.
Tottie knelt beside her, her expression serious. “There's something I want you to see.”
The gravity of her tone alerted Katie that something was wrong. “What now?”
She shook her head. “This
isn't something I can tell you about. You have to see it for yourself.”
Rising, she moved to the back door, and a puzzled Katie followed. Suddenly fear jolted her as she remembered last night and her near certainty that someone was prowling around the house.
Tottie swung the door open and pointed to fresh scratches in the wood around the lock. “Someone tried to break into the house last night.”
The scratches stood out conspicuously against the painted wood. Obviously someone had tried to jimmy the lock. The hair on Katie's arms furred. So there really had been someone prowling around last night. She hadn't imagined it.
Tottie must have realized something was wrong. “What is it? Tell me.”
“I woke up last night and looked out the window. I thought I saw someone, but when I came downstairs and looked around, I didn't find anything.”
Tottie's expression turned forbidding. “Did you go outside?”
“Do I look like a fool? I went back to bed convinced it was my imagination. But there are too many things happening for these things to be âmy imagination.' Who could be doing this?''
“I guess Ed could be out of prison by now. He was mighty peeved at you a few years back.”
“It wasn't Ed Mathis. The authorities would have notified us when he was released. Then again, who knows? Maybe we're on edge and making a big deal out of everything, but sure as I'm standing here, somebody tried to jimmy this lock. Either last night or maybe weeks ago, and we're just now noticing.”
“We'd have noticed anything that apparent.”
Tottie's brow settled into a concerned frown. “Listen to me, now. Never go out of this house at night by yourself. You come and get me, and I'll go with you.”
Katie started to protest, but there was no disputing the wisdom of Tottie's warning. “That holds for you too. No going outside on your own. We go together. We're a team.”
Tottie returned to the sink followed by Katie, who drank the last of her tea.
“I've got typing to do. Let me know when Meg wakes up, please.” Katie walked through the living room to find Ruth sitting alone, crocheting. “Oh, good. At least you're not sick.”
“Wrong. I'm sitting here so I'll be close to the bathroom. It's become my home away from home. Lucky it's such a comfortable one.”
Katie shook her head and laughed. “At least you've retained your sense of humor.”
“Not for long. I heard you talking to Tottie. Are you going to take Meg to the doctor?”
“That's right. Do you need to come along?”
“No, but I think it's a good idea for her to go. You don't want to take a chance on inducing an early labor.” Ruth hastily put her crocheting aside. “Excuse me. I have to run.”
Ruth made a dash for the bathroom. Katie hoped Ruth had not been in the living room when she and Tottie were discussing their nocturnal visitor. Katie didn't want to upset the guests. The women had more than one reason to fear midnight intruders.
Meg woke up, and Katie drove her into Little Bush to see the doctor in spite of her protests that she didn't have the money to pay. His verdict was intestinal flu; baby was fine. He prescribed bed rest and plenty of liquids. The mother-to-be slept on the way home, her youthful features pale from the draining episode. The silence gave Katie plenty of time to think. Who was the prowler? And to what extent would he go to reach his intended victim? And why didn't the dogs bark? Did they recognize the intruder, or had he managed to slip past without alerting them?
By noon Katie's stomach was roiling. She couldn't get sick â she didn't have time. She entered the kitchen to find Tottie dragging around. “Oh no, you too?”
The housekeeper sank weakly into a chair. “I'm okay. Not as bad as the others, anyway.”
“What's wrong with us? Why are we all sick?” She was beginning to think the illness was part of an evil plot.
Tottie got up, filled two cups with a light tan liquid, and carried them to the table. “I've brewed up a pot of tea. Sweeten it with honey. It should help.”
“The doctor says that Meg has an intestinal virus, but is it possible that we could have eaten something bad?”
“The caviar?”
Katie shook her head. “I didn't eat any.” She took a cautious sip of tea. She'd been drinking this woman's potions all of her life, and she had learned that some tasted better than others. “What is this?”
Tottie stirred a teaspoonful of honey into her mug. “It's a mixture of ginger root, orange peel, dried lemongrass, peppermint leaves, and yarrow flower, all good for you.”
The hot tea opened Katie's sinuses and eased her unsettled stomach.
They drank tea in companionable silence. Katie sighed. “Have you noticed that the problems we're having started when Clara came? If I had any sense, I'd send her to the Sundance shelter. Maybe whoever is sneaking around here would leave.”
“You won't do that.” Tottie sipped from her cup. “You wouldn't send a woman away once she's taken shelter with you.”
“No, I can't, but it would be nice if I could. The election will be over soon, and she'll leave. But it's hard to understand why God would throw such a tempest in our nice, neat teapot.”
“Ah, the mysterious workings of God. The women did get along better before she came. I don't think she means to be so disrupting. She just doesn't know how to get along with people like us.”
“What's wrong with people like us?” Tottie's words put Katie immediately on the defensive.
“Nothing. I meant she's used to a different sort. She spends her time in Washington, and you know it's nothing like Devils Tower, Wyoming.”
Katie wrapped her hands around her cup. “You know what I think? I know any one of these women could have been in touch with the men they're running from. And maybe one of them could be harassing us, but I really believe Neil Townsend is behind it.”
Tottie shook her head. “You can't seriously believe that man would be skulking around this shelter. He's got too much to lose. He's as recognizable in the public eye as she is.”
“You've seen him on TV: head shaved, mouth running at full volume, harsh, angry, and practically snarling. He's the slash-and-burn type, leave no witnesses. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him, and no, I don't think he's here in person. But he could have hired someone to do it.”
“But why, Katie? If he's her husband, a husband with a temper, why would he want to frighten her? I'd think he'd want her to win.”
“Maybe he does and maybe he doesn't. I don't know. But I do know something is going on around here, and I'm going to find what and who's doing it.” Katie sat lost in thought. Then she said, “I overheard Clara talking to one of the horses recently. Seems Neil wasn't always abusive â in fact, if I heard right, this was the only incident, set off by something that Clara told him.”
Tottie leaned back in her chair, her face drained of color. Katie suddenly realized how sick she looked. “You need to be in bed. I don't know how you've managed to keep everyone supplied with juice and tea and take care of yourself too. You get some rest, and I'll fix dinner.”
“I've got a chicken stewing. Some homemade chicken soup will be good for the women and light on the stomach. I'm all right, Katie. Don't worry. We'll
get through this.”
Katie sighed. “Isn't that what we always say every time we're faced with a challenge? I'm not sure we can keep on getting through things. This whole week has been one depressing event after another. First the budget, now this stomach thing, and someone harassing us. I don't know, Tottie. I've never felt like quitting before, but now I wonder if it wouldn't be best.” Tired and lonely, and wanting someone to take care of her, Katie said, “It does seem like life is working against us.”
“Seems that way.”
“What do we do now?” Katie meant the question rhetorically, but Tottie seized the moment.
“I have no answers, Katie. Perhaps it's time to close the shelter, tighten our belts even more, and save what we can of the farm.”
Even the suggestion sickened Katie. They'd both worked so hard to keep the shelter open, not to mention the years of backbreaking work Grandpops and Grandmoms had put into the farm. When they'd lost all of their savings to the stock market, they'd been crushed, but they never would have dreamed that Katie would let the farm fall victim to bad management.
“I hate to let the shelter go.”
“So do I, but better lose the shelter than lose everything. You're too stressed, and these incidents can mean big trouble. They must be connected to Candlelight in some way. If we close, whoever is harassing us will stop.”