27

Late that afternoon, Rosemary stood inside her picket fence and watched as Elijah walked toward his home. He carried the remainder of the lemon bread in one hand. He didn’t realize it, but he carried her heart with him, as well.

He turned to wave before crossing the street. She lifted her hand in reply, then hurried inside for her bonnet. She had time for an important errand before supper.

With Bodie straining at his leash, she covered the blocks to Courthouse Square in a few minutes’ time. A glance through the mercantile’s windows showed her that Faith was occupied with customers. She’d stop on her way back.

Spears of sunlight lanced over the jailhouse roof when she crossed Court Street. Blinking into the brightness, she drew a deep breath and put her hand on the cool iron latch of the sheriff’s door. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

“Yes, Lord,” she murmured. The time had come. She’d be foolish to reject Sheriff Cooper’s help because of an old resentment. If Curt, who’d been injured far more than she had, could forgive, she could too.

When she pushed open the thick wooden door, the odor of stagnant air, stale food, and neglected slop pails assailed her. The sheriff sat at his desk to the right of the barred door that barricaded the stairs to the basement where prisoners were held. He glanced up, then straightened in his chair, astonishment written over his face.

“Miss Saxon?” He stood. “You’re the last person I expected to see in here.”

“No doubt.” She snapped her fingers at Bodie and pointed to a spot where he was to stay, then crossed the room with her right hand extended. “I’ve come to apologize for my rudeness over these past many months. I’ve been uncivil and un-Christian. Please forgive me.” Her pulse hammered in her throat. She hadn’t stopped to consider what she’d do if he refused.

Sheriff Cooper stepped around his desk and gripped her hand. “Consider yourself forgiven.” He grinned down at her. “My Amy will be pleased.”

Relieved, she returned his smile. “So am I.”

He gestured to an empty chair against the wall. “Sit a moment. You’ll scarcely credit this, but you’ve been on my mind this afternoon.”

“Whatever for?” She sat, angling the hard wooden chair so she could keep an eye on Bodie and pay attention to the sheriff at the same time.

“Heard some talk today that didn’t set well with me. Seems someone’s claiming you gave Elmer Bingham something that caused his death.”

Her shoulders sagged. The gossip had spread faster than she expected. “The only thing I ever sent for Mr. Bingham was some ginger root to help nausea. His wife asked for my help.” She held his gaze. “Ginger tea is perfectly safe, even for children.”

The sheriff held up a hand to stop her. “Just so you know, I don’t believe the rumors. He wasn’t young, and never was too spry. Likely he just up and died, particularly if you say he’d been puking.”

“So how can I stop the talk? You know better than most how difficult it’s been for me to settle in here.”

“So it has, and I’m real sorry for my part in causing trouble for you and your brother. Told him so too.” He leaned back in his chair. “You got any idea who might hold a grudge against you?”

“None whatsoever. But someone’s come on my property a few times . . . and there have been a couple of threats.”

His brown eyes darkened. “Threats?”

She told him about the two messages, the broken window, the uprooted plants. “Except for the first note, I thought possibly some young rascals were behind the damage—you know, playing pranks. But then when Bodie disappeared and I found that second message in the greenhouse, well, I couldn’t pretend anymore.”

“And you didn’t come to me?” He tugged at the ends of his moustache. “Guess you wouldn’t, seeing as how I treated you.”

“Elijah—” Heat rose in her cheeks. “That is, Dr. Stewart urged me to. I let my stubbornness get in my way. Now this happens.” She swallowed. “I’m worried.”

Having a conversation with the man she’d avoided for months left her with a sense of unreality. But then, being accused of causing Mr. Bingham’s death was even more unreal. Thankful she had obeyed the inner prompting to ask the sheriff’s forgiveness, she leaned forward. “What should I do now?”

“Not a thing. I got ways of stopping rumors. Somewhere in town there’s a coward that’s got nothing better to do than harass a defenseless lady, and I mean to find him.” He rummaged around on his desk for a blank sheet of paper, then dipped a pen in an inkwell. “When did that first message show up?”

Thankful for the sheriff’s promise that he’d keep a closer watch over her section of town, Rosemary directed her steps toward the mercantile. If Faith hadn’t yet heard the gossip, she wanted to be the one to tell her.

As soon as she stepped into the store, she could see by the way everyone looked at her that stories about Mr. Bingham’s death had already circulated through the community. She held her breath as Mr. Grisbee shuffled toward her.

“Hold your head up, Miss Rosemary. Ain’t no one in here believes a word of what we’re hearing.”

His faded blue eyes shimmered through the sheen of her tears. “Thank you.” She patted his gnarled hand.

At the counter, Mrs. Wylie, one of Faith’s steady customers, turned from her purchase to face Rosemary. She lifted a blue cloth-wrapped bundle. “I recommend your teas to all my friends. Don’t you worry about what a few folks are saying. Personally, I think someone’s jealous of you. Maybe one of those grannies who lives out in the hills.”

“You’re very kind, Mrs. Wylie. Thank you.” Some of the tension left her shoulders. At least she had a few supporters in Noble Springs.

When the older woman left with her packages, Faith hurried to Rosemary’s side. “Would you feel safer staying at our house?”

“I feel more threatened at the prospect of having people turn against me than I do by any one person. Hiding in your house won’t change that.” She kissed Faith’s cheek. “But I appreciate your offer.”

Mr. Grisbee dragged an extra chair over to the woodstove. “Bring the dog over here and set a minute. Saw you come from over by the courthouse. You didn’t go to the sheriff, did you?”

“I did.” Rosemary settled in the offered seat.

Faith’s eyes widened. “You talked to Thaddeus?”

“I made peace with him. My apology was long overdue—and I need his help. I don’t understand how anyone could feel threatened enough by my simple remedies to go to this length to discredit me.”

“You’re the one who’s threatened.” Faith placed her hands on her hips. “With Cassie gone, this is the perfect time for you to move to our house. Amy will be married in six weeks’ time. You know we need you.”

Rosemary breathed a sigh. “Anything can happen in six weeks. Right now I’m so stunned by these rumors I can’t think clearly. I want to stay where I am for now.”

“This whole thing’s bound to blow over, Miss Rosemary.” Mr. Grisbee touched her arm. “You got more friends than you know.”

She left the mercantile for the walk home bolstered by his words. Who’d believe what a few men said over their noon meal? Her steps lightened.

As she approached the barbershop, Bodie pressed close to her leg and whined. Two men leaned against a wall beneath the red-and-white-striped pole. From their scruffy beards to their straggly hair, they needed the services offered inside.

She averted her eyes and picked up her pace. As she passed, she heard one of them say, “That her?”

A deeper voice responded with a snicker. “She’s the one. If’n she offers you somethin’ to drink, you’d best not take it.”

Rosemary arrived at work early on Monday morning. She’d been awake since daylight worrying that Elijah’s practice would suffer because of her presence in his office, but when she arrived she found a young man waiting, a leather pouch tucked under one arm. The door to the examining room was closed, so she knew the doctor had someone inside as well.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she unfastened Bodie’s leash. He trotted to his rug beneath her desk and flopped on his side.

She turned to their patient. “Does Dr. Stewart know you’re here?”

“No, miss. He was busy when I came in.” He dug inside his bag and produced a buff-colored envelope. “If you’ll give this to him, I’ll be on my way.”

She held out her hand for the missive, then noticed the words “Western Union Telegraph Company” printed across the paper. Her heart gave a little flip. A telegram seldom represented good news.

“I’ll see that he gets the message.”

“Thank you.” He touched the brim of his cap, then hurried on his way.

She busied herself at her desk until Elijah stepped into the reception area. He had his hand on the patient’s shoulder. “Mr. Ormond wanted to show me how he’s healing. I think it’s the comfrey.” He winked at her.

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing well.” Rosemary smiled at the older man.

“Didn’t used to hold much with medicos, but you and the doc here make a good pair. Wanted to thank you again for saving my hand.” He stepped closer to the desk and lowered his voice. “Heard some gossip about you down at West’s, but I told the feller he was talking through his hat.”

Rosemary straightened. “Told who?” She and Elijah exchanged a glance.

“Don’t know his name. Some old bird who comes in there from time to time. Hope he thinks twice before he opens his mouth again.”

Elijah patted the man’s back. “I appreciate you speaking up for Miss Saxon. She’s a dedicated nurse who’d never harm anyone.”

She warmed at his praise. After Mr. Ormond left, Elijah turned to her, beaming.

“I’m happy to see you today—and every day, for that matter.”

“I’m happy to see you too.” Her gaze fell on the envelope resting on her desk. Reluctant to break the mood, she said, “A telegram was delivered for you while you were with your patient.”

His smile faded as he plucked the missive from her hand. “Might as well get it over with. Can’t be anything good.” He ran his forefinger under the flap, removed a small sheet of paper, and scanned the contents. After a moment he looked up. “It’s from my father. He’s calling me back to Chicago. He’s dying.” His voice sounded bleak.

“Oh, gracious. Is there any family with him now?”

“I’m an only child.” He slumped on the sofa, his head resting on his fingertips.

In the silence that followed, Rosemary crossed the floor and sank onto the sofa beside him.

“When will you leave?”