27

You have perfect timing,” Lydia said as Catherine entered the candy store. “I have news for you.”

“And I have some for you, but you should start.” Though Catherine was bubbling over with the thought that Grace was closer to being reunited with her daughter, she could see by the gleam in Lydia’s eyes that her announcement was equally important. The fact that Lydia kept rubbing her abdomen made Catherine suspect the news was about her baby.

“Are you having twins?” she asked mischievously. Lydia had claimed there was so much activity in her womb that she must be carrying more than one child.

“I don’t know about that, but I know that we need some mint tea and a piece or two of fudge.” Lydia turned toward the small kitchen at the rear of the store. “Would you brew some mint tea for us, Opal?”

The woman who was now Lydia’s partner appeared in the doorway. “It’s all ready, but you might want to drink it back here. That way you won’t be interrupted by customers. I can help them while you rest.”

A minute later, Catherine and Lydia were perched on stools next to the counter. They weren’t as comfortable as the padded window seat and chairs in the showroom, but the kitchen had the benefit of privacy.

“So, what’s happening?” Catherine asked as she sipped the tea that never failed to soothe her. “I’m guessing it has something to do with the baby.”

“It does,” Lydia confirmed. “Travis and Matthew have hired a new midwife.” She smiled as she rubbed her stomach again. “Matthew’s taking credit for it, of course, saying that as mayor it’s his job, but Travis was the one who sent telegrams to all the nearby towns, asking the other sheriffs to put the notice in their papers.” Lydia broke off a piece of fudge and held it between her thumb and index finger as she said, “They received three responses. One of them sounds perfect.” The candy disappeared into her mouth.

Catherine nodded, encouraging Lydia to continue once she’d swallowed. She wasn’t surprised that Travis had done most of the work in finding a midwife. Cousin Matthew was a good postmaster, but he viewed his role as mayor as mostly ceremonial. Fortunately for the town, Travis’s training as an attorney and his contacts now that he was sheriff made him eminently qualified to hire people to serve Cimarron Creek. And of course he had a vested interest in choosing the best midwife.

“Her name is Mrs. Thea Michener,” Lydia said. “She comes with the highest of recommendations, but her story is so sad that I cried when Travis told me what she’d gone through.”

Catherine closed her eyes in a silent prayer for the unknown midwife. “What happened to her?” She hoped Mrs. Michener hadn’t been the victim of rape or abuse.

“Her husband was killed, and her baby was stillborn.” Lydia’s voice wavered as she pronounced the words. “Oh, Catherine, I can’t imagine what I would do if something like that happened to me.” She cupped her arms around her abdomen, cradling her unborn child. “The only reason she’s willing to come here is that she wants to move to a new town. She said there are too many unhappy memories in Ladreville.”

“Ladreville?” Catherine laid her cup on the counter and stared at Lydia. “Mrs. Michener is from the same town where Grace once lived?”

Lydia nodded. “That’s one of the reasons Travis was eager to hire her. Her recommendation came from Priscilla, the midwife who attended Grace. We both met her when we went to Ladreville with Aunt Bertha, and we trust her. If Priscilla says Thea Michener is a good midwife, I know she is.”

Catherine nodded slowly, marveling at the links between Cimarron Creek and what Grace claimed was one of the prettiest towns in the Hill Country. “My news came from Ladreville too.”

“It sounds as if you had an eventful Friday.” Austin smiled at the woman he loved so dearly. When he and Hannah had slid into the pew beside her and Grace, he’d noticed that Catherine looked different, but he had been unable to identify the difference. Now that the service had ended and they were outside waiting for Hannah to finish regaling Rebecca with the story of her plans for tomorrow, he was still mystified.

“Lydia’s excited about the new midwife,” Catherine said, “but that’s understandable. I’m happy for her.”

Austin nodded, although the thought of midwives did not excite him.

Ignoring his lack of enthusiasm, Catherine continued. “I’m looking forward to meeting Mrs. Michener, but I have to admit that I was more excited by the news about Grace’s daughter.”

That had been the first thing Catherine had told him, and the way she’d grinned while she’d recounted the contents of the letter had told him that Grace wasn’t the only one looking forward to a trip to Europe.

“Will she wait until September to go to France?”

Catherine nodded. “Of course, she’s anxious, but she said that after waiting more than twenty years, a few more months won’t matter.” Catherine hesitated for a moment. “Are you certain you want to go? I know your memories of Paris aren’t happy ones.”

While that was true, Austin had been surprised at how much the pain had faded over the past few months. Being here—being with Catherine—had helped him put the sorrow of Geraldine’s death behind him. Instead, he found himself remembering the happy times they’d shared.

“You and I will make new memories,” he said firmly. “I want to be with you when you see Notre Dame for the first time.” He lowered his voice, not wanting to be overheard, even though no parishioners were near. “I’m beginning to feel confident that Enright has given up his search, even though it doesn’t appear that he’s left Philadelphia. It’s been more than six months. By now he’s likely to have realized that he won’t ever find me and has made other arrangements.”

“What would those be?”

“Consulting another doctor.” Changing his appearance and moving to a different city was the only way Sherman Enright thought he could continue doing business without fear of being arrested.

“But you were the best.”

“That doesn’t mean that someone else couldn’t have tried to alter his appearance. The results may not have been the same, but they could have been enough to achieve his goal. Chances are, any physician he’d consulted would have tried to help if Enright spun a good enough story and if he hadn’t recognized the man as a criminal. We all try to do our best.”

“Even Doc Harrington.”

Austin blinked in surprise. This was the first time Catherine had spoken the man’s name without rancor. What had happened?

“I surprised you, didn’t I?” Without waiting for his response, Catherine continued. “I surprised myself too. I kept remembering what you and my mother had said, and I realized it was time to let go of my anger. I don’t agree with the techniques he used, but I now know that he didn’t deliberately harm my mother. He acted out of ignorance, not malice.”

Catherine’s smile turned mischievous. “You should have seen his face when I knocked on his door and gave him a peace offering of tapioca pudding and cinnamon rolls.”

As Austin chuckled, imagining the crusty physician’s shock, his heart filled with warmth. This was the reason Catherine looked so different today. She had found peace.

“What a happy day! What a happy day!” Hannah’s clear soprano rang out in a tune Catherine did not recognize. While she was certain those were not the original words, she couldn’t quarrel with the sentiment. It had been a happy day, despite the summer cold that had left Catherine with red eyes and a stuffed nose.

Though Austin had said he’d bring Hannah into town, Catherine had decided to rent a buggy and pick up Hannah, believing that would make the day more special. And it had. The girl had reveled in the novelty of riding in something other than her father’s wagon and had chattered constantly about both the buggy and the upcoming thrill of her new dress.

To Catherine’s delight, Hannah had insisted on bringing the doll Rebecca Henderson had given her. Though she had said nothing to Hannah, the doll figured into Catherine’s plans.

When they’d arrived at Catherine’s home, they’d spent an hour looking through Godey’s Lady’s Book to choose a pattern before going to Cousin Jacob’s mercantile to select fabric. Catherine doubted it was the first time Hannah had been inside the mercantile, but she wandered the aisles, exclaiming over the variety of merchandise, before she joined Catherine at the fabric table. Once there, she insisted on examining half a dozen bolts before she spotted a navy poplin with small white flowers and declared that nothing else would do.

The girl had practically bubbled over with excitement when Catherine suggested a white cotton lace as trimming. Sturdy but pretty, the lace would set the dress apart from the plainer ones Hannah normally wore and would make her feel special. Everyone—young or old—deserved to feel special.

After Catherine had cut out the pattern, allowing Hannah to make a few of the cuts, they’d begun the sewing lessons, with Hannah making a dress for her doll from the remnants. As Catherine had expected, she’d been delighted by the idea of her doll wearing a dress that matched hers. Hannah’s sewing wouldn’t win a prize at the county fair yet, but it was good for a first attempt. Now they were headed back to the ranch.

As the song ended, Hannah turned toward Catherine. “Sewing was fun. Can we do it again?”

“Of course. We need to finish your dress. Your father and I agreed you could spend every Monday with me until school begins.”

“Yippee! Yippee! Yippee!”

Hannah was yelling so loudly that Catherine did not hear the approaching horse until the rider was next to them. Though the man’s appearance was so ordinary that he would blend into any crowd, the way he looked at them made the hair on the back of Catherine’s neck rise.

“Look what I found here. Two purty gals out for a ride.”

His voice sent shivers down her spine, increasing the alarm she’d felt at the sight of him. His accent told Catherine he was an Easterner, while his grammar betrayed his poor education. Under ordinary circumstances, neither of those would have bothered her, but Catherine’s instincts warned her that this was no casual visitor and that she needed to get away from him. Instead of giving him a friendly greeting, she remained silent, planning her escape. It would be difficult for the buggy to outrun a man on horseback, but she would try.

“I reckon you’re the schoolmarm and that there’s Doc Goddard’s daughter.”

Catherine’s instincts were shrieking now, telling her that something was very wrong. No one was supposed to know that Austin was a doctor, but somehow this man—this man with the evil glint in his eye—did.

She laid her hand on Hannah’s and spoke so softly that she hoped the man could not hear her. “Don’t say anything. Just hang on tight.” She reached for the whip, intent on escaping from the stranger.

“That ain’t a good idea, schoolmarm.” The man pulled out a revolver and pointed it at Hannah. “You do one thing wrong, and that girl’s gonna get hurt. Bad. Now just drop them reins. The three of us are gonna take a little ride. There’s a man waitin’ to meet you both. He’s mighty curious about anyone connected to the doctor.”

Catherine’s feeling of dread increased as the man climbed into the buggy and grabbed the reins, then wrapped his arm around her, tugging her close to him. “Don’t get no notions about tryin’ to escape. I’ll shoot both you and the little one. I won’t kill you. Not yet. But it sure will hurt.”

“I’m scared, Miss Whitfield,” Hannah whispered. “He’s not a nice man.”

Catherine clasped Hannah’s hand, searching for a way to comfort her. “We need to be brave.” There had to be a way out of this situation. She closed her eyes and prayed to the One who could help them.

“Where are we going, Mr. . . .” She let her voice trail off, hoping he’d tell her his name.

He did not. Instead, he smirked. “Don’t you worry none, missy. You’ll find out soon enough where I’m takin’ you. As long as you and the little one do your part, won’t be no need to kill you.”

Hannah shuddered and buried her face in Catherine’s lap.

“He’s only interested in the doc,” the man who refused to give his name said.

Catherine sent another silent prayer heavenward. Unless she was mistaken, Austin’s worst fear had come true. “Who is he?” she asked as calmly as she could.

The man let out an evil laugh, as if he knew the answer would hurt her. “He’s a man no one crosses.” Another laugh made Hannah tremble again. “Leastwise no one crosses him and lives to talk about it. You’re gonna meet Mr. Sherman Enright.”