The Nanny Solution, page 23
Clyde shook his head in awe, obviously pleased. “You’re going to make me a fine wife, Victoria.”
“I doubt that.” She continued her cool look. “I also demand that you leave my family alone. And Mitchell’s.”
Clyde lifted his bushy brows, the effect lining his forehead with half a dozen wrinkles. “Acceptable.”
“Now, who to trust?” Victoria’s stale smile broadened. “The sheriff, of course.”
Clyde’s smug expression fell. Then grew again. “A cunning woman, a refreshing change from my first wife.” He walked closer. “Fine. We have a deal, then. We should find the sheriff and, in the morning, the pastor. Victoria, I’m thrilled beyond words that you have agreed to become my bride. You’ll never know how thrilled.”
He leaned forward to steal a kiss, but Victoria turned her head away in time. Then, from the corner of her eye, she spied movement in the open doorway.
Her heart dropped. Mitchell was standing there, and his hurt expression stabbed like a knife into her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mitch had found the front door open. When he’d called out to the silence, he’d heard nothing and simply walked in.
Late last night, when Victoria had collapsed as soon as her feet touched the broken slag and gravel beneath her, he’d carried her up to her room. A young maid took over. He’d sent for the doctor before meeting briefly with Louise and Rachel. Abernathy had been there in that front parlor, the excuse of his missing coupe had kept him lingering, no doubt.
The excuse didn’t hold water anymore, but still the old man had stuck around.
Mitch had given the ladies the briefest of explanations of Walter’s death. While Louise had remained stoic, Rachel had shed tears. And Abernathy... Well, Mitch didn’t care how he reacted.
After the doctor had arrived, Mitch had headed to the pastor’s house. Rachel would want the spiritual comforts the pastor and his wife could offer. His actions had been wooden, done by rote, as if he was in some terrible dream.
He’d spent all day Monday rounding up his cattle and dealing with the sheriff. He’d taken several breaks to go to the bank to ask for an extension, only to find the place each time in an uproar with Abernathy missing and Walter dead. Adding to the mess were the men who’d purchased his heifers. With his best dead or lame, all they’d wanted was their money back.
Now, late Monday night, Mitch had returned to the Smith house to check on Victoria. Surely, she would be up, unable to sleep.
She’d been up, all right, up and accepting a proposal that no decent man would have offered at such a time as this. But Victoria succumbed to the desperation instead of trying to figure things out. The idea wrenched his heart.
He’d also come to the Smith house to tell her that he was going to fight to keep his ranch and that he was going to ask her to stay in Proud Bend for a while, in case she felt the need to dash away now that her benefactor had died. Her aunt and cousin would need her, he’d been prepared to argue.
He needed her.
Well, all that was draining from him, like a heavy rain on the hard pan of a dry summer, rolling away between the stalks of parched grass on the high pasture, on its way to the Proud River.
Now Mitch couldn’t believe the scene he’d just witnessed. All he could do was stalk away. If Victoria had called out his name as he stormed away, he hadn’t heard it.
His heart squeezed. She’d been accepting Clyde’s proposal of marriage. She didn’t love the man, Mitch knew that, but she loved her lifestyle and had been too desperate to see any other option. If the only way she could deal with it was to marry a gap-toothed old man whose scruples were on par with her uncle’s, then so be it.
He shouldn’t blame her. Frontier life was rough, even living at the Smith house would be considered difficult for someone used to Boston with all its finery and access to whatever new inventions that made life easier.
Forget her. He wasn’t going to fight anymore. He would return to his family home in Michigan to help his aging father on the farm, to introduce his children to their grandparents and to ask them to help him raise his family. This was his only choice now. His parents were good, loving people, but their farm had been their dream. He’d always wanted his own life, something he could say he’d built all by himself.
“Mitchell!”
He stopped at the open front door, torn between wanting to turn and allowing his pride to fuel his flight from this house. In that moment, he hated himself. If he turned, he was sure he would acquiesce to whatever she said. His pride railed against it. Pride was trying to stop him from turning.
He shoved that pride away and spun on his heel.
Victoria rushed up to him. She seemed breathless. “What did you hear?”
“I heard you accepting Abernathy’s proposal. What do you think I heard?”
“Allow me to explain.”
“There isn’t any need. I’m not an idiot.”
She grabbed his arm, propelled him out the front door and shut it behind them. Mitch wondered if she would have ever done that back in Boston. How she had changed.
The truth dawned on him—he knew she’d changed. He’d known it for a while. So why accept Abernathy’s proposal if that was so?
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Finally, she said, quietly, “Why are you here?”
He pulled in a deep breath. Should he say “I came here to see you”?
“I just woke up. Let me ask you something. What are you going to do about the ranch? You’ve missed your payment.”
“Only by a day because the bank was in an uproar. But that doesn’t make any difference. I don’t have the money. If the bank wants my ranch, it can have it.” He shrugged. “I’ll start again. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.”
“And the children? Would you give them up?”
He frowned and shook his head. “Of course not! Why should I?”
“Who will take care of them?”
“I’ll go back east to my parents’ farm. My mother would like to have a crack at educating them, I’m sure.”
Mitch watched Victoria swallow. Then she whispered, “You’ll keep the ranch, Mitch. You’ll see.”
How would she know that? “Maybe, but I’ve already lost some good heifers and I may lose more livestock in the coming days. The herd has been spooked and there is a good chance that the heifers I’m left with will lose their calves. It can happen when they’re under stress. They will be more so because the best pasture I had is now burned.”
“Is there any other place you can let them graze?”
“No. The neighboring ranchers are angry that I fenced in my pasture land. But I did it because it’s my land and because I didn’t want your uncle trying to sneak on it and start some kind of illegal mining operation.” He sagged. “It’s over for me, but at least you get what you want. All the wealth and comforts of Boston, without the humidity in the summer and the dampness in winter.”
She stepped closer and for that moment, he was tempted to reach out for her. But she belonged to another now, even though he couldn’t deny the temptation. But it wasn’t right to want what belonged to another man.
In the dull light from the lamp above them, Victoria’s eyes glistened. “Neither of us is getting what we want.”
As Mitch opened his mouth to contradict her, furious footfalls tore up the driveway toward them. They both turned.
Mitch recognized Rosa Carrera from the saloon. The young woman from down south rushed up to them, her heavy shawl blowing in the wind. Mitch had met her when he’d escorted Rachel to minister to the women a while back.
“Mitch! I’m glad I found you. Where’s Rachel?”
* * *
Victoria stared at the woman. She knew Rachel was doing ministry at the saloon, but to hear a young, unfortunate woman speak of her cousin as though she were a confidante... How was that possible?
It was because Rachel would cultivate a relationship of trust.
“She must be inside,” Mitchell said after introducing the women. “There has been a death in the family.”
Victoria glanced at him for a moment, forgetting about Uncle Walter. She had been trying to tell him that his ranch was safe, that he could continue on, but with what? A compromised herd? It would take years to rebuild it.
At least he had the ranch and the herd to rebuild.
The young woman was shaking her head. “I know. She sent a message saying what had happened, and that she would still come tonight.”
“I’m sure the doctor has given her a sleeping draught.” Victoria took the woman’s arm. “Let us walk you back.”
Rosa wrenched her arm free. “No! Rachel said she would never take a draught! She said she would come! We were going to talk about that man Mark who knew Jesus. I wanted to tell her that—” The girl faltered a moment, her accent increasing. “Well, I remember learning about Jesus as a child, but I understand now and well, I wanted to tell Rachel I was ready.”
Mitchell asked, “For what?”
Victoria knew. Rosa wanted to give her life to the Lord.
She then gasped as yet another realization dawned. “Mitchell, something is wrong! I remember Rachel telling me that nothing would take her away from her evening activities.”
“Surely not tonight!”
“But, yes, Mitch,” Rosa cried. “I have her note.” She pulled from a small pocket a crinkled sheet of paper. “She said she would come.”
Victoria gripped Mitchell’s arm tighter. “We have to find her. I have a terrible feeling that Clyde has done something.” She spun and threw open the door, yelling behind her, “Rosa, go get the doctor.”
With Mitchell in tow, Victoria raced to Walter’s study, but found it empty. Where was Clyde?
“He’s gone. I didn’t realize what Clyde was saying to me tonight, but now I know.” She pushed off from the doorjamb and tore upstairs to her aunt’s room, the first on the right. She could hear Mitchell behind her. Once inside the fussy and crowded bedroom, Victoria raced to the bed. In her night clothes, Louise lay still, on her stomach, her face turned into her pillow.
Yanking hard to put her aunt on her back, she pulled the woman free of the smothering effects of the soft pillow. Her aunt drew in a deep breath, but didn’t stir. She seemed deeply unconscious. Drugged, even.
“Rachel!” Victoria rushed out and down the hall to her cousin’s room. Mitchell pushed past her and barreled inside. Rachel was face down on the bed, fully dressed, her head pressed into the pillow.
Mitch rolled her over to face the door. He leaned over and smelled her breath. “She’s had a sleeping draught. I bet it had laudanum in it. They mix it with honey and whiskey.” He looked up, his face a mask of worry. “Look at the bruising around her neck. I think it’s been forced into her. Rachel would never willingly take laudanum. She told me once that it’s an insidious drug and that she has seen several women brought to ruin with it. And the way both your aunt and cousin were turned into their pillows, it’s as if they were meant to suffocate.”
Victoria began to cry. “They would have, too. I wonder if it was Clyde’s movements upstairs here that awoke me. He could have waited until the draughts took hold before he moved them onto their stomachs. Is there anything we can do for them now?”
“I don’t think it was too long ago that they took it. What made you suspicious?”
“Clyde said something curious. He called Rachel a fool and Aunt Louise a waste. It was very odd. He talked about drugging my mother if she came.” She swallowed hard as she sought to figure out what he meant. “Clyde was searching for your deed tonight. I think I understand what he was saying. He only wanted me because if Aunt Louise and Rachel die, Walter’s share of the bank would fall to my mother.”
Victoria put her hand to her mouth. “If my mother chose not to come out here, Clyde would have control. If she came out here, he could easily end her life as he was trying to end Rachel’s and Aunt Louise’s. A laudanum overdose wouldn’t be unheard of when a woman has suffered a tragedy, and he hinted that my mother might suffer the same fate as Aunt Louise and Rachel. I didn’t realize what he meant until now.”
Mitchell took Victoria into his arms and held her there. “It’s all right,” he finally said. “The doctor will be here soon.”
A commotion started downstairs. Both Mitchell and Victoria hurried out into the hall. The housekeeper, now roused, had stopped Rosa from bolting up the stairs, but Victoria could see a middle-aged man push past them.
Mitchell tugged her to one side. “That’s the doctor.” He gave the man a brief explanation.
“If it hasn’t been too long, I will be able to revive them,” he said. “Charcoal does well in the stomach, but I’ll need some water and a large basin first. This will be very messy.” He barked out a few instructions to the housekeeper before looking over at Victoria. “You’re pale. You had best lie down.”
Mitchell took her into her room, directed there by Victoria. As she lay down, she grabbed Mitchell. “We have to stop Clyde!”
“I will. He won’t get far.”
She clung to him. “Mitchell, I am so sorry for all I’ve done. But you must understand. Clyde was planning to go to your ranch and begin foreclosure proceedings and I was afraid you’d be forced to give up your children. The boys would be sent to farms and the girls to an orphanage. But Clyde promised me he’d forgive your mortgage if I married him. You can rebuild your herd, Mitchell. I wanted what was best for you, and to keep your family together. But now, it’s overshadowed by all of this and Clyde still has the mortgage papers. He’ll follow through with his threat.”
Mitchell’s mouth fell open. “You were going to marry him to save my family? I came here tonight to see if you were all right, but also to ask you if you would stay. If you like, we could start again someplace. I can’t give you all you deserve, but I can give you my love. And my name.”
“Deserve? I deserve nothing! Oh, Mitchell, what a fool I’ve been with my pride. Even my pride in my foolish and simple accomplishments. To think, I believed I knew everything about running a house after one lesson.” She leaned forward, a watery smile forming. “Are you proposing to me?”
He nodded as a smile took over his face. “I love you, Victoria. I want to marry you.”
Her smile echoed his. “I love you, too.”
“It won’t be an easy life, but I can tell you that my pride would be a far worse companion. It was a sin against God and you, and I am glad to say I’m rid of it. It was my love for you that conquered it. Just now, I knew I needed to let it go to turn around and face you.”
He paused, and Victoria’s expression fell. “What about Clyde?”
“No need to worry. The sheriff will stop him. He’ll have to pay for what he’s done.” He pulled her close. “And I can tell you for certain that Pastor Wyseman would not have performed the ceremony if he thought for a moment that you were being blackmailed.”
She smiled through her tears. Mitchell loved her! Suddenly, that love gave her the strength and courage to look to the future. A future that included all her family. Lord, save Rachel and Aunt Louise. Keep them safe.
She repeated that same prayer often as the night wore away and morning finally came. Victoria waited impatiently for the doctor to stop rushing back and forth between the two other bedrooms.
Finally, he closed Rachel’s door and walked into Victoria’s bedroom. “They’re both going to be fine.”
Victoria sagged and offered a new prayer, a silent one of thanks. Mitchell took her in his arms as the doctor explained his care.
“I administered an emetic and then gave them charcoal. Miss Smith is awake and talking, but Mrs. Smith is still groggy. They had been given large doses of laudanum, far more than I prescribed.” His expression sobered. “I’m told it was Clyde Abernathy who prepared their doses. I sent a note to the sheriff that Abernathy be found to answer to the charges of attempted murder, for he then turned them on their stomachs and their faces into their pillows. If the laudanum hadn’t killed them, they would have smothered.”
Victoria shivered, and Mitchell held her tight.
The day drifted by slowly as she spent her time checking on her aunt and cousin, so much so that Rachel ordered her from her room. Downstairs, and trying not to be miffed by her cousin, Victoria met Mitchell in the front room. He’d disappeared for some time and had returned.
“Did the sheriff find Clyde?” she asked.
“He was caught boarding the train for Denver. Clyde would have been gone but the train had hit some of my heifers and had been delayed. He had a ticket to San Francisco. He knew he had been caught and was running.” Mitchell led her to the settee, where they sat beside each other. “I also went to the bank today. They will extend my payment date, but it comes with a hefty penalty that has to be paid first. It’s going to be rough for a while, Victoria.”
“Yes,” she answered practically. “But after all we’ve endured, and nearly losing Rachel and Aunt Louise, I’ve learned I can handle anything. As long as you help me start the occasional fire in the stove.”
Mitchell laughed just as the maid entered with a silver server. On it was a letter that had arrived with the train.
“For me?” Victoria asked as she took it. Who would be writing her? Her mother? She opened it and read quickly. Then gasped. “It’s from Mr. Lacewood. He sold my house and the summer home. They belonged to me, not my mother, but were to be in my mother’s care.”
She read further. “It sold for more than anticipated. Francis bought the property only one day after I left. He’s engaged now.”
