Read Shattered Lives (Flynn Family Saga Book 1) Online
Authors: Erica Graham
“Yes ma’am.” Ben touched his hat.
Inside the Lonnegan wagon, Ellie and Maggie began to
clean the body. Maggie’s face was pale, but her hands were steady as she wrung
out the cloth.
* * *
Flynn watched as Maggie began to clean her mother’s
body. Then, he walked away. He went to the picket line and started to groom Scout.
“You’re going to wear the hide off that poor animal,
son.”
Flynn turned guiltily. “I didn’t hear you, Sam.”
Sam nodded. “You’re slipping, Flynn.” He took off
his hat and sat down on a fallen log. “What’s eating you?”
Slowly, Flynn turned and faced his friend. “I could
have stopped this.”
“Oh, really? How? And what will you do for an
encore? Part the Red Sea?”
Flynn grimaced. “I knew he was drinking.”
Sam sighed. “So did I, Flynn. So did I. But
Maggie had her heart set on getting him to California. I thought it was going
to be all right. I thought he was just getting drunk and passing out.” He
sighed. “Well, the damage is done.”
“What are you going to do with her now?”
“I don’t know. I should send her to an orphanage.”
“No!” Flynn’s hands curled into fists.
“Flynn, this is
my
train, and I have to do
what I think is best.”
Slowly, Flynn forced his hands open. “Major, have
you ever seen an orphanage? From the inside?” Flynn’s voice was as hard as a
stone.
Sam shook his head.
“Well, I have. It was worse than Camp Sumter.”
Sam looked at him and looked away. “I don’t have to
decide right now.” He stood up and placed his hand on Flynn’s shoulder. “Get
some rest, son. It’s been a helluva night.”
Flynn nodded.
In the morning, Flynn wore the black trousers Sam
had given him when he first joined the wagon train, after the war. He pulled
on his black jacket and wished that he had a tie. He went to the Lonnegan
wagon and knocked on the side.
Ellie Lonnegan came out. “She’s sleeping, Mr. Flynn.”
Flynn nodded. “Ben and Frank have finished digging
the graves. Can you—could you lend her a dress?”
“Of course.” Ellie went back into the wagon.
A little while later, Maggie came out. She looked
very small and fragile in a dress that was too big for her. Flynn took off his
belt and handed it to her. She smiled wanly and fastened it around the waist
of the plain gray dress. Flynn held out his arm. Maggie rested her hand on
his wrist. Her hand was cold and trembled. Flynn patted her hand and escorted
her to the gravesite.
The entire train had assembled for the funeral.
Maggie’s hand clenched on Flynn’s arm.
He squeezed her hand and turned toward the empty
graves. Maggie shut her eyes for a moment, and then she, too, turned.
Sam cleared his throat. “The Lord giveth and the
Lord taketh away...I am the Resurrection and the life.”
Flynn shut his eyes. He saw the faces of the men he
had buried in Elmira. His left hand went to his shirt pocket. He touched the
notebook with the names of the dead all written down in black and white.
Maggie squeezed his hand.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She looked
worried—about him.
Tears burned his eyes. “I’m all right, Maggie,” he
whispered.
She nodded and looked back at Sam.
“Peace I give you,” he said. “My peace, the peace
that passeth all understanding.” He closed his Bible. “Maggie?”
Maggie nodded. She swallowed hard and stepped
forward. She took the shovel from the Major’s hand and threw the first clod of
rich Nebraska soil into her mother’s grave. The linen shroud muffled the
sound, but Maggie winced anyway.
Flynn’s heart ached. He wanted to hold her and
comfort her.
And he wanted to run to Alexander Ridgeton’s cabin
and hide until the pain in his own heart went away.
Ben and Frank stepped up to the grave. Maggie
watched, dry-eyed as they covered her parents’ bodies with dirt. Sam pounded a
cross into the ground at the head of Lucy’s grave. Then, he started to pound
the second cross into the soft Nebraskan soil at the head of Michael’s grave.
Ted Hanson stepped forward and grabbed Sam’s arm. “You
can’t put a cross at a suicide’s grave! That’s sacrilege!”
Sam turned and faced the man. “Ted Hanson, there is
a girl behind you who just lost both her parents. This is not the time or
place—“
Hanson brushed past Sam and yanked the cross out of
the ground.
“Put it back.” Flynn’s hands curled into fists.
Ted Hanson ignored him.
“I said put it back.”
Hanson stuck out his chin and threw the cross on the
ground.
Flynn’s fist lashed out, and Hanson fell. Flynn
bent and picked up the cross. He pounded it into the ground and turned to face
the crowd. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”
Silence answered him.
“Come on, Maggie.” He escorted her back to the
Lonnegan’ wagon. Maggie nodded and climbed into the wagon.
Flynn stood there a long time, staring at the
wagon. Finally, he sighed and walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Inside the wagon, Maggie changed back into her shirt
and jeans. She slipped out of the wagon and went to the picket line. Flynn
was there, grooming Scout. He had changed out of his suit and into his
buckskins. For a moment, Maggie just watched him move. She felt guilty about
enjoying anything when her parents lay dead and cold in the ground, but she
loved to watch Flynn. Whenever he was alone with the stallion, there was a
gentleness in his face that tugged at her heart.
She sighed and went over to Sebastian.
Flynn started. “You scared me.” Slowly, he
grinned. “You’ve got to stop—“
Maggie tried to finish the sentence, but she could
not make the sounds come out. Tears burned her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her shoulder. He handed
her a brush.
Maggie started to groom Sebastian. He looked as
happy as a cat in cream. Scout nudged Flynn’s chest, nearly knocking him off
his feet. Flynn smiled, and for a moment, he looked younger. “I’m sorry, big
fella. I forgot your sugar lump again this morning.”
Maggie fished in her pocket and brought out a sugar
lump. Silently, she held it out to Flynn.
Flynn took it from her hand. “Thanks.” He held out
the sugar to Scout who nibbled it daintily. Flynn laughed. “Hey, that
tickles.”
Maggie took out a second sugar lump and held it out
on her palm. Sebastian took it from her hand. She rubbed his nose. Then, she
moved on to Miranda.
Flynn brought over his own brush and started to work
on Portia. Together, they groomed the horses in silence. When she was done, Maggie
snapped leads on Sebastian and Miranda, and Flynn took Portia and Mercutio.
Together, they hitched up the O’Brien wagon. Maggie stared at the
blood-spattered canvas.
Flynn took her shoulders and turned her away from
it. “We’ll get a new canvas from the supply wagon after breakfast.”
Maggie nodded her thanks.
After they cleaned up, Flynn took her to the Major’s
cook fire. Sam patted a crate next to him. “Sit down, Maggie.”
She obeyed.
Frank scooped up a huge portion of scrambled eggs
and four slices of bacon. He added a biscuit and some of butter. “Eat up.”
Maggie nodded. She didn’t feel hungry, but once she
started eating, she felt a little better.
Sam finished his plate and picked up his mug of
coffee. “Maggie, do you have any other family?”
Maggie tried to speak. Her mouth opened, and her
throat worked, but nothing came out. She shook her head.
“What’s wrong with her, Major?” Frank looked at
Maggie with concern.
“Shut up, Frank.” Ben poked an elbow into Frank’s
ribs.
“I’m sorry, Maggie.” Frank sighed. “It seems like
every time I open my mouth, I stick my foot in it.”
Maggie smiled and nodded.
Sam patted her arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry,
Maggie. It happened to one of my men during the war. Later, when his voice
came back, he said that what he saw was so awful that he couldn’t talk about
it.”
Maggie nodded slowly.
Sam studied her face. “Can you drive your folks’
wagon?”
Maggie nodded. She started to get up.
Flynn laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. “We
need to change the canvas first, Major.”
Sam nodded. He turned to Maggie. “I’m sorry. I
almost forgot. Ben. Frank. See to it.”
“Right away, Major.” Frank nodded and took off his
apron.
The two men got up and walked away.
Sam turned to Maggie. “Maybe Mrs. Hamilton would be
willing to take you in. When we reach Lancaster, I’ll send her a telegram."
Maggie looked away. Tears burned her eyes.
Sam laid his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,
Maggie.”
Maggie nodded. Her throat ached. She wanted to
plead with him, to argue.
And she couldn’t make a sound.
The train traveled until nightfall. Maggie jumped
down from her wagon and unhitched her team. She led them to the picket line
and began to curry them.
Flynn came up beside her, but this time, she heard
him coming. It was as if her hearing was sharper, to compensate for the loss
of her voice. He began to brush Scout. The only sound was the two brushes
moving down the flanks of the two horses. When he was finished, he helped her
with the rest of her team, and then he turned and walked away.
Maggie followed him to the Major’s cook fire. She
sat and listened to the men talk. They teased Frank about his cooking, but the
stew was delicious. She sighed and sopped up her gravy with one of Frank’s
biscuits.
“See? Somebody appreciates my cooking.” Frank
pointed to Maggie.
“She must be sick.” Sam touched her forehead.
Flynn nodded, grinning. “Definitely delirious.
Maggie sighed happily.
* * *
That night, Flynn couldn’t sleep. Every time he
shut his eyes, he saw Maggie’s face, covered in blood. He got up and went to
her wagon.
She lay outside, wrapped in a blanket. She turned
with her pistol drawn. Her hand shook.
Gently, Flynn knelt and took the pistol out of her
grip. Tears filled her eyes. She holstered her pistol and turned away.
“Can’t you sleep, Magpie?”
Maggie shook her head.
He sighed and sat on the ground next to her. “Are
you too old for stories?”
Maggie looked back at him and shook her head.
Flynn grinned. “Good. But you’ll have to close
your eyes.”
Maggie shut her eyes tightly.
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful red-haired
princess. She lived all alone in a high tower, where she was safe from the
world. But it was lonely. So one day, she came down from her tower and went
out into the world. There, she found great beauty and great sorrow.”
Maggie sighed.
Flynn’s heart twisted in his chest. He longed to
hold her in his arms and comfort her. Instead, he drew a deep breath. “She
met a prince with a magic sword that protected her from all harm. He put her
on his horse, and together they rode to his father’s kingdom...”
As Flynn spoke, Maggie began to breathe deeply and
evenly. Long after she fell asleep, he sat there, watching her. And he
realized that he loved this girl who dressed like a boy and shot like an
outlaw.
He kept vigil with his red-haired princess until
dawn lit the eastern sky.
* * *
In the morning, Maggie woke up feeling better than
she had since her father came home from the war.
She felt guilty about that.
She got up and went to the picket line. After she
took care of the horses, she helped Frank make breakfast. She sliced the bacon
while Frank cracked a dozen eggs into a bowl and began to mix them.
Sam came out of his wagon and stretched. “That
smells good for a change, Frank.”
“That’s cuz Maggie’s helping me.” He grinned at
her.
Maggie smiled back shyly.
Sam turned to her. “Just don’t drink any of Frank’s
coffee.”
Maggie nodded. She opened her mouth and shut it
without speaking.
“What is it, honey?” Sam sat down and poured
himself a cup of coffee.
Tears of frustration burned her eyes.
Sam patted her shoulder gently. “Give it time,
Maggie. Your voice will come back.”
Flynn sat down and poured a cup of coffee. He
brought it to his lips and hesitated. He looked at Maggie. “Who made the
coffee?”
Maggie shrugged innocently.
Frank put his hands on his hips. “I made the
coffee, Flynn.”
Flynn dumped the coffee onto the ground.
Maggie covered her mouth with her hands so Frank
wouldn’t see her grin.
Frank tousled her hair. “It’s all right, Maggie.
They always complain about my coffee, but when we get up into the snow country,
they’re mighty glad to have it.”
Maggie ate and listened as the three men bantered
back and forth. When she finished her breakfast, she scraped the crumbs into
the bucket for the pigs and started to wash the dishes.
Sam cleared his throat. “I’m going into Lancaster
this morning. I’m going to telegraph Mrs. Hamilton. She said, right before we
left, that she didn’t know how she managed before you came to stay at her
boarding house. So I’m sure she’ll take you in.”
Pain jabbed Maggie’s heart, as sharp as the knife on
her hip. She bowed her head.
“Maggie, I wish you could stay with the train, but
from here on in, it’s hard country. Can you replace a wagon wheel when one
breaks?”
“Can you? Without help?” Flynn stood up with his
hand clenched into fists.
Sam glowered at his scout. “Maggie’s only a kid.
She couldn’t possibly—“
“Sam, I was a lot younger than Maggie when Alexander
Ridgeton took me on my first trek across the prairie.”
Sam shook his head. “That was different, Flynn.”
“Why? Because I was a boy instead of a girl?
Maggie can take care of herself better than any two men I know!” Flynn
gestured toward Maggie. “She can shoot almost as well as I can, and she can
hold her own in a fight.”
Sam hesitated. He turned to Maggie. “What will you
do when we get to California? Do you have any family there?”
Maggie’s heart sank. She shook her head.
Sam laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,
Maggie.”
She turned and ran to the picket line.
Maggie rested her face against Sebastian’s flank.
“I’m sorry, Magpie. I tried.”
She turned and tried to smile at Flynn.
Flynn regarded her silently a long time. Then, he
seemed to make up his mind. “Come with me, Maggie.” He walked down the picket
line until he came to Patches. He threw her saddle over the little horse and
led him back to Scout. Maggie patted Patches’ neck and looked questioningly at
Flynn.
“Where are we going?”
Maggie nodded.
Flynn turned away from her and looked out across the
prairie. “Out there.” He saddled scout and swung up onto his horse’s back in
one smooth motion. Maggie mounted Patches and nodded to Flynn. He kicked
Scout’s sides, and the horse moved into a trot. Maggie kicked Patches and
caught up to him. They trotted side by side for a few minutes. Then, Flynn
grinned at her. He kicked Scout again, and the stallion began to gallop.
Grinning, Maggie urged Patches into a gallop that
ate up the distance between the two horses. In a few moments, the little horse
caught up to Scout.
Flynn glanced at her and then looked back at the
ground in front of his horse. They rode neck and neck, while the land rolled
away beneath them. Finally, Flynn reined in Scout. Maggie did the same with
Patches, and the two horses slowed to a walk.
They rode until noon. Flynn stopped beside a
stream. He cut a sapling and sharpened one end. Then, he waded into the
stream. He waited, as still as a stone, for a long time. A fish swam by like
a sliver of moonlight caught in the water. Flynn’s arm moved so swiftly that
it was a blur. Smiling, he lifted the sapling. A silver trout wriggled on the
end of the makeshift spear. He looked at her speculatively. “I bet you know
how to clean fish, too.”
Maggie nodded and drew her knife. She cleaned the
fish while he found dry wood. He started a fire and then peeled a green
stick. He skewered the pieces of fish and held them over the fire. In a few
minutes, the fish began to smell good.
Maggie’s stomach growled. Her face reddened.
Flynn laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Magpie.”
He sighed. “I wish I’d thought to bring some salt.”
Maggie fished in her pocket and brought out a small
packet.
“Sugar lumps. Salt. You’re a regular general
store.” Flynn sprinkled salt on the fish. Then, he held out the stick to
Maggie. She took one half and he took the other. It was messy, eating fish
with her fingers, but it tasted heavenly.
Maggie shut her eyes and sighed. She opened her
eyes again and looked at Flynn. She pointed to herself and then to him. She
raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“Why am I doing this?”
She nodded.
“I like you.” He licked his fingers. “You’re a
good kid.”
Kid
. Maggie’s heart ached for a moment.
Then, a bird landed in the tree above them and began to sing. Maggie leaned
back and smiled.
“I can’t feel sad when a mockingbird sings,
either.” Flynn knelt beside the stream and scooped up some water. “Ready?”
Maggie’s face fell. She shook her head stubbornly.
Flynn laughed. “All right. But we need to get back
before dark.”
They rode to the edge of the prairie. The grass towered
over them, even mounted. Maggie realized that without the trail, they would be
lost in moments. But there was a kind of harsh beauty to the prairie as it spread
out before her, rippling in the wind like the sea. Maggie sighed.
Flynn turned to her and nodded. “It hits me that
way every time. It’s like an invisible giant is walking through the grass.
Not everyone likes it.”
Maggie nodded solemnly. She wished she could tell
him how beautiful it was, how much she loved the prairie and all the wild
places they had been. Frustration coiled inside of her like a spring..
Flynn turned Scout back toward the wagon train.
Reluctantly, Maggie followed him.
The sun was almost at the horizon by the time they
got back to camp. Ben met them at the picket line. “Where in tarnation have
you been, Flynn?”
“Riding. Why? Is there trouble?”
“No, but Sam isn’t back yet.”
Flynn swung off his horse and loosened the cinch.
“He’ll probably stay in town until he hears from Mrs. Hamilton.”
Ben winked at Maggie. “Well, I guess
she
deserved a day off. She’s been working hard ever since the greenhorns showed
up in St. Jo. You, on the other hand..."