Her Patchwork Family, page 11
The teacher with a disapproving twist to her mouth asked, “Are you that Quaker who has started an orphans’ home?”
“I prefer to call it a children’s home.” Felicity beamed at her, ready to object to any prejudice with the invincible cheerfulness she’d learned from her mother. “Who can help me register the children?”
The two grim teachers scowled back and forth. “This school is for the children of residents of this town,” the older one said.
Felicity replied, “Yes, and these children are residents of this town.”
“But they don’t have parents,” the younger teacher pointed out, her lower lip dipping down farther in more disapproval.
“No, but now they have me,” Felicity said with a touch of steel in her tone. “I am here to register these children for school. Which of thee will handle this?”
The two teachers exchanged glances and then the older one said, “Follow me, please.”
Shrugging off the insistent feelings of someone watching her, Felicity waved the children to follow her inside the schoolhouse. In a few minutes, the children’s names had been registered and they had been divided between the two teachers. When Katy and Camie were assigned to the same class, Felicity was relieved and grateful. The children were curtly dismissed to the school yard to play.
Just as Felicity started to leave, the older teacher said sourly, “You know, in this school we don’t spare the rod and spoil the child.”
Felicity raised her chin. “All my children are very well behaved. So I must let thee know that I will not allow my children to be mistreated in any way just because they have suffered the misfortune of losing their parents.”
At the door, the younger teacher, her thin face sinking into critical lines, commented, “I see that it’s true. Judge Hawkins has abandoned his own daughter.”
Felicity stared at the uncharitable woman and had to fight her natural heated reaction to this provocative statement. She gave a tight smile. “Camie is visiting with me. The war affected all the children in this town. And indeed, in this nation, in one way or another. Ty Hawkins is a fine man and is doing the best he can for his daughter. I hope none of thee will make the mistake of trying to cause Camie to feel unwelcome here. Or to make her feel that her father does not have the right to do whatever he thinks best for his child. Ty Hawkins would not appreciate it.”
Without another word but with a cheery wave to the children, she marched away. A block from school, she glanced over her shoulder but still saw no one. She heard the school bell ringing and said a prayer. The two unwelcoming teachers had not given her any confidence in their ability to nurture her children as well as teach them. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was very curious about her and her movements. She headed for home, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder again.
Felicity woke suddenly in the dark.
“Help! Help!”
She bolted from her bed.
She heard the sound of someone falling downstairs, loud bumping and grunts and groans.
“Stop!” a voice yelled. And then a yelp of pain. A little girl screamed. A crash and glass breaking.
Hand trembling, Felicity lit a candle and ran barefoot into the dark hall. Now she recognized the shouting. It was Tucker’s voice. She ran down the stairs toward the sounds.
“What’s happening?” she called out.
“Miss Felicity! Help!” Camie shrieked.
Felicity raced into the dining room. A man, his face covered with a cloth bag, was swinging a chair at the cracked bow window. Tucker gripped the back of the man’s jacket. The intruder swung around and hit Tucker in the head with the chair. The boy fell.
Felicity screamed.
The man swung the chair at her, hitting her on the side of the head, knocking the candle from her hand. She bumped against the walnut buffet. And then fell hard onto the oak floor.
More glass breaking. The candle rolled against the long sheers at the bow window. They burst into flame, lighting the room suddenly. The intruder scrambled out the shattered bow window.
Tucker jumped up. At the window, he yelled, “Abel! Get your gun! Abel!”
Felicity rolled to her feet. Dazed, she looked around for something to fight the fire with. She ran into the hall, picked up the needlepoint rug and raced to the burning wall. She began beating the flames with the rug.
“The children! Tucker! Go get the children and Midge out of their beds!” she ordered. “Get them outside! Fire!” she shrieked out the window. “Fire!”
A gun discharged. A man cursed. Another gunshot.
Felicity beat at the fire. The wallpaper burst into red-orange flames. Sparks and ash flew around her head. Then Vista was there beside her beating the flames, too. Outside, people began appearing at the bow window. The cry of “Fire! Fire!” burst out from everywhere, echoing, echoing.
Felicity began coughing with the smoke. Then Vista turned and struck her back with a rug. Felicity dropped to the floor, coughing, coughing. The front door burst open. Felicity could feel the pounding of feet through the floor. She tried to speak, but only coughed violently, retching.
“Get Miss Felicity outside!” Vista shouted. “She’s been burned!” Then Vista began coughing, too, staggering forward.
Light-headed, Felicity felt herself being dragged by her wrists. She wanted to get up, but the hands dragging her were stronger than she. When the hands dropped her, she lay on the chill dew-dampened grass. By the light of the fire, she saw that a man was working the pump in the backyard. A bucket brigade had been formed. She lay gasping for air.
“Are you all right?”
Felicity looked up and recognized Mrs. Partridge. “Chil…dren! Children?” She tried to get up.
Mrs. Partridge pushed her down. “The children and their nurse all got out safely. I counted them. See?” The woman pointed toward the sidewalk, where the children stood huddled around Midge and Vista. “The big boy got them all down the stairs. He carried the littlest one.”
“Thank God,” Felicity breathed and then went into another coughing fit.
Mrs. Partridge helped Felicity rest her head in her lap. Lying on her side, Felicity gazed at the men who were putting out the fire.
Then a man loomed over her. It was Ty Hawkins. “Felicity, are you all right?” he asked, concern etched all over his face.
“She needs the doctor,” Vista said. “She got burned.”
At these words, Felicity suddenly felt searing pain on her shoulders.
“Here. This will help.” Someone poured several buckets of cold water over her back, drenching her. She began shivering uncontrollably.
“We should get her inside,” Mrs. Partridge said. “She will catch her death of cold out here soaked and lying on this damp ground.”
Ty Hawkins lifted her into his arms. She knew she should protest that she was able to walk. But was she? Chilled to her marrow, she began shuddering, unable to stop. Ty carried her up to her room. “The house?” she managed to stutter.
“Looks like just the dining room was damaged. Now don’t worry.” He laid her on her bed and was gone. Vista and Mrs. Partridge came in. Together they stripped off her drenched gown and helped her into a dry one. When the cloth touched her shoulders, Felicity nearly cried out.
She began weeping. She didn’t want to, yet she couldn’t stem the tears. The door opened and Camie ran in. “I want Miss Felicity!”
Felicity opened her arms and the little girl nearly knocked her backward. She felt as if Camie were trying to bore her way into Felicity for shelter.
“He tried to take me,” Camie said, crying. “The bad man tried to take me away.”
Felicity looked up and found her shock reflected in the faces of the other two women. “The man with the sack over his head?”
“Yes!” Camie’s voice rose shrilly. “Tucker came. He fought the bad man.”
Stunned, Felicity looked to Vista. “Please get the judge.”
Ty paused at the door. Looking wilted, Felicity was sitting on the side of her bed with Camie in her lap. Her fresh gown was tucked modestly around her. The doctor was carefully applying ointment to her slender red and blistered shoulders. Still, her pale skin glowed in the candlelight. Her frailty struck him. She was such a forceful woman that one forgot how delicate she was. Anger stirred in him. Who had done this?
He cleared his throat. “Vista said that someone tried to take Camie?”
Felicity looked so tired, crushed. He fought the urge to gather her into his arms. “Bring in Tucker, please. He knows.”
Ty turned and found Tucker at the head of the stairs. Ty motioned to him. The boy showed evidence of a violent struggle. One eye was swollen shut. His lower lip was swollen and bleeding, and he limped. Just inside the bedroom door, Ty rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Tell Miss Gabriel and me what happened, please.”
The doctor was packing his black bag, frowning and listening, too. Vista was securing Felicity’s gown in place.
“I heard a sound. It woke me up. I run down the stairs to this floor where the girls and Miss Felicity sleep. Seen that man was carrying Camie away. I had to stop him any way I could. I ran and bumped into him. He fell down the last two steps to the front door. Camie screamed then. I think she was still asleep when he got her at first. But falling woke her.”
Ty tried to keep back the anger but couldn’t. He slammed his open hand against the door. “What man?”
Tucker jumped at the sound. Felicity began to shiver again. Camie whimpered.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe that someone would come here and try to kidnap my daughter,” Ty protested.
“I suppose I just made it all up!” Tucker glared at him.
“I saw the man—” Felicity began.
“I know.” Ty fought for control. “I know. I believe that what took place happened just as you told me, Tucker. It’s just that this kind of thing doesn’t happen on this side of the river. St. Louis maybe, but Altoona?”
“It seems unusual,” Felicity murmured.
“You got any enemies?” Tucker shot him a strange look.
Ty rubbed his taut forehead, unable to think.
“I mean, you’re a judge,” Tucker continued. “Did you make somebody mad at you? Somebody that ain’t scared to break the law?”
Ty held up both hands as if surrendering. “I can’t make sense of this.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Felicity begin to slide off the bed toward the floor. He ran to her and lifted her onto the bed. “Vista,” he called softly, “come help me, please.”
Vista hurried over and helped him lay the lady down on her side, pulling up the covers. Camie clung to Felicity and Vista said to leave the child. The three of them walked out into the hall with the doctor who said he’d be back after breakfast. Ty hung back, not wanting to leave Felicity or his daughter.
“The doctor give her something for the pain,” Vista explained to Ty. “That’s why she just let go like that. And it was a good idea, too.” She looked up at Ty. “Some men helped Abel nail up wood over the broken window. I think you two best come down with me and check to see if everybody’s gone home.”
Ty nodded and so did Tucker. Abel stood at the bottom of the stairs with a shotgun in his arms. “I shot twice but I missed him. How’s our lady doin’?”
“The doctor treated her burns and gave her something to put her to sleep,” Vista answered. The stunned-looking children all sat on the floor in the foyer. The housekeeper looked to him. “I’d feel better if you and Abel spent the night in the house.”
“Already thought of that,” Abel said. “I’m going to settle myself right here on the floor. Nobody else is getting in here tonight.”
“Where’s Miss Felicity?” Katy asked.
“She’s asleep upstairs.” Vista held out her hand. “You and Donnie come spend the rest of tonight with me. Camie is sleeping with Miss Felicity.” The little girl and her brother followed Vista toward the back of the house.
The boys looked up at him. Tucker spoke up, “The boys and me sleep on the third floor. You should come up there, probably. There’s a chair you can sit on. I wish you had a gun.”
“I do.” Ty patted his belt where a pistol was concealed under his jacket.
“Good,” Tucker said and led them up the stairs to the third floor. There Ty saw that the boys were sleeping on pallets on the floor.
“Miss Felicity is getting us beds,” Tucker said as if Ty had disparaged the pallets. “They just ain’t got here yet.”
Ty nodded. “Go to sleep, boys. I will sit in the rocker by the door with my gun. No one will get into this house again tonight. Now settle down.”
As Tucker moved away, Ty reached out and grabbed his shoulder again. “Well done, Tucker. Well done.”
Tucker shrugged and went to a pile of blankets. The other boys got between their covers, too. A couple of them whispered for a time and then fell asleep.
Wide-awake, Ty sat in the rocker, his loaded pistol on his lap. A loaded pistol in his heart, primed and ready to protect or avenge. His mind buzzed with thoughts and feelings. Why had someone tried to steal his child? And who was the culprit?
Ty burned with outrage and fury. Someone had tried to take his daughter. Why? Then the image of Felicity fighting the fire and then lying on the grass limp and injured sliced his hot anger like iced razors. I will find out who’s responsible and he will suffer the consequences.
Chapter Seven
Felicity woke and moaned. For a few seconds, she was disoriented. Why was she in such pain? Then a whirring string of images from the night before spun through her mind. She groaned and tried to move. Tears formed in her eyes. Dear Father, why did this happen? And what will happen now?
The skin of her shoulders and upper back still burned and felt as if it had shrunk at least one size. She moved inch by inch and finally sat up on the side of the bed. Suddenly she recalled that Camie had slept with her. She looked around for the little girl, but she was alone.
Someone tapped on her door.
“Come in,” she said, her voice lower than usual. She found she couldn’t breathe easily, as if she were fighting for air. She coughed.
Ty Hawkins peered around the door. “You’re awake then?”
She nodded. She wanted to greet him but couldn’t catch her breath. The pull to go to him worked on her powerfully.
“I’m going home now. I have to get dressed and get to court,” he said, sounding apologetic.
Felicity gazed at him, recalling how he had lifted her last night and carried her here, holding her within his strong arms. Such comfort. In spite of her not being dressed for male company, she wished he would come in. Such comfort. She grappled with persistent tremors, no doubt an aftereffect of last night’s violence. “How is Camie?”
The mention of his daughter appeared to strike him with unusual force. His whole face tightened into grim lines. “She’s fine and is down in the kitchen finishing oatmeal for breakfast. Your housekeeper asked me to tell you that you don’t have to come down. As soon as she gets the children off to school, she’ll come up and help you dress.”
“I should be able to get up by—” She paused, realizing she did not want to move. Searing pain held her captive.
She tried to take a deep breath and coughed painfully instead. Finally she was able to speak. “Does thee have any idea what happened last night? Why would someone try to take away thy daughter?” Her heart pounded, making her weaker. But she wouldn’t let herself sink onto the sheets again.
“No, I don’t know why this has happened. I must go. I’m due in court in an hour. I will return this evening. Abel is going to take the children to school and bring them home. They won’t be allowed to go anywhere without someone with them. You stay here and rest.” Ty looked as if he wanted to say more. But he only shook his head and left.
Though Felicity tried to ignore it, his leaving chilled her. She cautiously eased herself to her feet. She had been worried that she wouldn’t be able to stand without the dizziness of last night. But except for her painful shoulders, she felt fine. Well, maybe not fine, but as close to normal as possible after all that had taken place last night. Her weakness and helplessness chafed her.
She drew her light blue wrapper from a peg near the door. The thought that she had run downstairs in only her nightgown and been carried outside like that gave her pause. But in the midst of all the drama and commotion, probably no one had taken much notice.
As she tried to slide the wrapper onto her shoulders, her body rebelled at this usually easy but now intricate set of movements. She found she really couldn’t tolerate any added weight, not even a layer of light cotton, on her blistered skin.
Vista knocked once and walked inside with a cup of coffee. “The judge said you were awake. You can’t put that on.” Vista took the wrapper and hung it back on the peg. “Now you need to rest.” She shooed Felicity back to bed and gave her the cup.
Sitting down on the bedside, Felicity tried to take a deep breath and failed, coughing again. She pressed a hand to her neckline. “Thank thee for the coffee. I don’t want to be shut up in this room all day. But what can I wear? My shoulders are most painful.”
“I been thinking.” Vista looked around the room. “I know where Mrs. Barney’s niece’s party dresses are packed away. I’m going to find one and let you wear that.”
“A party dress?”
“Her party dresses were cut low and didn’t have much sleeves.”
“Oh!” Felicity put her hand to her mouth in surprise. In the past, when in the city, she had glimpsed these kinds of dresses. In the evening, ladies had turned out in low-cut silk and satin gowns. “Oh, no. I couldn’t wear anything like that.”
Vista just shook her head and left, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”
Setting down the hot coffee, Felicity went to the dressing room and drew out her simple everyday gray dress. She found, however, that even contemplating trying to lift this on bested her. Every movement tormented her tight, burning shoulders. Her already low spirits sank to the cellar.
