A Careless Wind (Kansas Crossroads Book 7) Page 8

  “Yes, sir.” A letter, and also more than half his wages. He hadn’t received a full allotment because he hadn’t been there for the complete pay cycle, but he was still proud to send in what he could. And when he got back out on the line and was bringing in a regular amount, he’d really be able to contribute.

  “I’m going right past the post office on the way to my next patient. Do you mind if I take this in for you?” Dr. Wayment asked.

  “No, of course not. Thank you for offering.”

  The doctor slid the envelope into the pocket of his jacket. “And what did you tell your parents about your injuries?”

  Nicholas shook his head slightly. “That was the difficult part. I didn’t know if I should tell them everything, or if I should soften it a bit. I ended up doing some of each. I don’t like telling my parents half-truths, but I don’t want to add to their worries.”

  “That’s most likely the wisest choice. And by the time they get this letter, you’ll be feeling enough better that anything you told them will be a thing of the past.”

  Oh, how Nicholas hoped that would be the case.

  “I’m off to my next patient by way of the post office. I’m pleased with your progress, although I am concerned about the pain you’re experiencing. Let’s talk about it tomorrow and see if it’s improved at all. I’ll be here in the early afternoon, unless you need me before that.”

  “All right. Thank you, Doctor.” Once he was alone again, Nicholas picked up the book about China and tried to disappear into it, glancing at the clock every so often to see if it was time for his next dose yet. It seemed to him that the clock hands were glued to the same spot, and it would never be time.

  ***

  “Welcome to our morning meeting, everyone,” Elizabeth said, speaking from her customary spot near the front table. “We have quite a lot to discuss, so we’ll move through it quickly. The most important report is from Rachel.”

  What? Rachel hadn’t anticipated that she’d be the one to bring this matter into the open—she’d thought Mr. Brody would do it. Well, she was in charge of the dining room, and she couldn’t hide behind Mr. Brody if she ever wanted to be respected in the business world. She stood up and cleared her throat.

  “Yes, I do need to speak with you all about something very important. Twice in the last week, we’ve had money go missing from the meal service. The first time, it was two dollars, and the second time, it was three. Have any of you noticed anything peculiar—strange people lurking around, anyone standing in a place where they shouldn’t be?”

  All the other girls shook their heads. Tom spoke up from the back of the room. “Aside from the train passengers, I haven’t seen anyone unusual on the property.”

  Emma raised her hand and then spoke. “Is it likely that a train passenger is doing it?”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about that,” Rachel said. “We’ve never had theft here before, and now it’s happened twice in a week? That’s too coincidental to be two separate people, so it must be the same person. Is the same person riding the train that frequently? Are they slipping into the hotel with the train passengers to make us think they’re travelers too? These are all things we should take into account.”

  Mr. Brody spoke up. “Have any of you noticed repeat customers this week?”

  Giselle lifted a finger. “I haven’t. But then, I’m not as used to dealing with the crowds as the rest of you are. They all look like strangers to me.”

  “Do you often get repeat customers?” Emma asked.

  “Not often. The train crew comes in quite a bit, especially the conductors, but almost everyone else seems to be taking a longer journey, sometimes going as far as New York, and they aren’t likely to be back this way for some time,” Mr. Brody replied.

  “We’re asking you all to be on the alert,” Rachel said. “Please let me or Mr. Brody or Elizabeth know if you see anything out of the ordinary.” She hoped she didn’t need to add that this included keeping an eye on each other.

  Everyone nodded their assent, and then they moved on to discussing the other items of business for the day.

  “Very well done,” Mr. Brody told Rachel in an undertone at the conclusion of the meeting. “I couldn’t have done it better.”

  “Oh, I doubt that, sir,” Rachel said, her cheeks going pink.

  “Nonetheless, good job.”

  She only had a moment to bask in the praise before the train pulled in, and it was time to get busy.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was the middle of the night, and Nicholas couldn’t sleep. His entire body ached like nothing he could even describe, and he felt like a caged animal. Trying to stay quiet so he wouldn’t disturb Ho, he grabbed his crutches and worked his way over to the window. The moon was high and bright, shining down without the filter of cloud cover. Nicholas wanted to be out in that moonlight, not stuck inside like some kind of old man.

  The throbbing in his leg was worse when he stood, but his ribs felt more compressed when he sat. There just wasn’t any relief, no matter what he did. His eyes strayed to the little cupboard where the laudanum was kept. It wasn’t time for his next dose, and Giselle would be the one to give it to him when it was. But this pain was excruciating—would anyone know if he took just the tiniest little bit to see him through?

  Ho was still asleep. Carefully, moving his crutches just a bit at a time, Nicholas made his way over to the cupboard. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this—Dr. Wayment had his best interests at heart and wouldn’t lead him astray—but the pain made it impossible for him to care. He opened the cupboard, lifted out the bottle, and took off the top. Just the tiniest bit. That was all.

  He replaced the top and closed the cupboard, then eased himself back into the bed. Just to get him through. And tomorrow, he’d feel much better. Every day would be better than the one before. It had to be.

  ***

  Rachel tapped on Nicholas’s door, then entered. It had been a little while since she’d been to see him, and she supposed she owed him a visit. It was the right thing to do, after all.

  He was sitting up in bed, leaning against his pillows, much as he had been the first time. “Come in,” he said. “Let me show you something.”

  She greeted Ho, then sat down next to the bed. “What is it?”

  Nicholas held up a book. “This is filled with the most amazing pictures. Have you ever studied much about China?”

  “I know where it is, but I don’t know much beyond that, I’m sorry to say.”

  He put the book in her hands. “Every page is like a glimpse into an entirely different world. Ho has been telling me about his family back home, his parents and grandparents, and how they build their houses and live their lives. It’s fascinating.”

  Rachel looked into his eyes. He seemed a little different, perhaps even a little drunk. But that couldn’t be—Nicholas wasn’t a drinker. He hated the stuff. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine. Giselle was in here a little while ago and gave me some laudanum—it does make me a bit woozy at first, but that will pass.”

  “All right.” She turned the pages of the book she held. “It’s a beautiful place, Ho.”

  He nodded from where he sat cross-legged on his pallet. “You should come and see.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s so far away.” Rachel looked at the table in the corner. A tray sat there with only one set of dishes, but she hadn’t seen Ho in the dining room. “Did you get something to eat?”

  “No, not yet. I was waiting for Nick to be all right.”

  “Why don’t you go down to the kitchen now? I’ll sit here until you get back.”

  Ho stood, gave a slight bow, and left the room.

  “Do you know what I was thinking about, Rachel? I was thinking about that summer. You know the one I mean.”

  She did know which one he meant, and she didn’t want to talk about it. “People who are on laudanum shouldn’t talk. They might say things they don’t mean.
”

  “I think it’s the very best time to talk because your brain doesn’t get in the way.” Nicholas reached out and caught her hand. For some reason, she didn’t pull back. “I was thinking about that day down by the pond. You remember—you made a picnic, and we sat on the grass and talked for hours. You said something that I’ve never forgotten.”

  Rachel looked down at their joined hands. They’d both said lots of things, and she hadn’t forgotten any of them. She couldn’t pick out which one thing he meant.

  “You told me that I understood you better than any other person on earth.” He caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “And I can tell that something’s bothering you right now. What is it?”

  A chance to change the subject—a chance she would happily take. She slipped her hand out of his and leaned back. “You’re right. I’ve recently been put in charge of the dining room, and we’ve had a couple of thefts. Money missing from the meal services. I didn’t do it and Mr. Brody knows that, but the responsibility still comes back on me because that’s my area of stewardship.”

  “Ah. A little mystery to be solved.”

  “That’s right. Mr. Brody isn’t ready to call in the marshal until we know more, but what we do know is so scant, I worry that we’ll never figure it out. I’m hoping that whoever did it will stop and we can simply move forward.”

  “But if the person’s never caught, won’t you always be suspicious? That’s not a very pleasant way to live.”

  “That’s true. I would rather know the truth than be forever wondering, even if that truth is hard to accept.” She paused and then started to laugh. “Do you remember the time Daniel’s fishing pole was stolen, and he wanted to catch the thief?”

  “So he rigged a net in the tree by the fishing hole and waited all day to drop it as soon as the culprit came to try out his prize?” Nicholas laughed, but then pressed his hand to his side. “Yes, I remember that. You must have been what, twelve?”

  “I think so. And you were the disapproving older brother who looked down on all the fun we used to have.”

  “Not disapproving. I just didn’t want Daniel to get hurt.”

  A shadow passed over his face at the words. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Realize what?”

  “That everything you did was because you loved him.”

  “All the times I spoiled his fun?”

  “Yes.”

  Nicholas shrugged. “It’s not easy being the oldest. You’re like a second parent, but you don’t have any of the authority. You can tell the other kids to stay out of trouble, but they don’t have to listen to you. Sometimes they get hurt, and you wish there was more you could have done.”

  “Maybe I was lucky, being born an only child. I was certainly saved a lot of heartache.”

  “Yes, but you missed out on a lot of fun, too.”

  “No, not really. I got to help Daniel try to catch his fishing pole thief.” She laughed. “He was so mad when he found it behind his bedroom door. It had been there the whole time.”

  Nicholas held up his hand. “I wouldn’t say it had been there the whole time.”

  “What?” Rachel leaned forward. “Did you take it and then put it back?”

  He shook his head. “It was Giselle.”

  “Giselle? Quiet, obedient Giselle? You must be joking. I can’t imagine it.”

  “It’s true.” He chuckled. “She wanted to be one of the boys, it seems, and thought she could earn her way into our good graces by catching a huge fish. She lost her balance, landed in the pond, decided it wasn’t worth it, and came back home. All this while Daniel was rigging his trap. She was home again and dried off the whole time he was waiting with that net.”

  “Oh, no.” Rachel couldn’t stop laughing. She could just imagine the whole scene. It felt good sitting here like this, talking with Nicholas without the underlying currents of emotion that always made things so complicated. If those currents could just stay locked away forever, that would suit her just fine.

  “Your blonde braids, always flying loose around your face.” Nicholas’s voice had become a little dreamy, and his eyes were closing. “Like an angel even back then.”

  “I think you’re about ready for a nap.” Rachel pulled his blanket up a little higher. “Have a rest, all right? We can talk more later.”

  “That sounds good.” He barely got the words out before he was asleep.

  Rachel sat back in exasperation. She did not want to hear about what an angel she was. It didn’t help her keep her feelings at bay, and furthermore, it wasn’t true. She was probably the least angelic child who had ever been created, to hear her mother tell the story. Then again, she wasn’t all that sure her mother’s opinion should be trusted. After all, she’d thrown away her only daughter over something as silly as a rumor.

  There it was again—that nagging thought. Why couldn’t Rachel put the incident behind her and move beyond it? She knew why—she hated unanswered questions, and that one was probably the biggest in her life. What had Nicholas said just a short time ago—something about life being unpleasant if you’re always suspicious? Well, her life was plenty unpleasant, and it was time to do something about it.

  She looked over at the small table in the corner, where the hotel provided some paper and a pen for the guests. Ho wasn’t back yet, and she could take this opportunity to write her mother a letter. The difficult part was knowing what to say. After thinking about it for at least five minutes, she picked up the pen and began to write.

  Dear Mother,

  It’s been a little while since I’ve written, and I hope everything is well with you. I’m working as an assistant manager at the Brody Hotel in Topeka. Everyone here is very kind, and I enjoy what I do.

  I’m writing today to ask the same question I’ve asked you before. You said you’d never speak to me about it again, but I feel I deserve to face my accusers, even if only metaphorically. Who accused me of being inappropriate with Daniel? It’s not true, and I want to know who would say such things about me. If I’m to be cast off forever, I ought to know why.

  Rachel

  She read it over a time or two, wondering if she sounded too abrasive, too demanding. Then she decided it didn’t matter what she sounded like. Her mother would take from it what she would, and that would be the end of it. If she never received a reply, well, nothing much would have changed.

  She wished she didn’t have to tell her mother where she was living, but if she wanted to get a letter in return, she had to give an address. With a sigh, she folded up the letter. Maybe now, with this action taken, she could put the incident behind her when it came up and stop the nagging little voice in the back of her head.

  Ho entered the room a moment later.

  “He’s been asleep for about fifteen minutes,” Rachel said, motioning toward the bed. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, no, I’m fine.” Ho gave a slight bow. “You can go now.”

  She smiled at the man and slipped from the room, closing the door most of the way behind her. Sleep was the very best thing for Nicholas, but she did have to admit, she would have liked to ask his opinion about writing the letter. She knew he wanted her to make amends with her parents, but she didn’t think he understood just how impossible that task would be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Rachel entered the kitchen the next morning, she found Ho and Sarah working together at the counter, rolling out dough.

  “Ho’s teaching me how to make Chinese noodles,” Sarah said. “It’s kind of fun, actually.”

  “Miss Giselle is with Nick now,” Ho added, addressing the very next question on Rachel’s tongue. She should have known Giselle would have everything in hand—Nicholas wasn’t really her concern anyway.

  “Thank you. And the food smells delicious.” She wasn’t sure if the customers of the hotel would be interested in trying it, but the employees probably would. Sarah’s cooking was delicious, but sometimes eating t
he same type of meal over and over again became tedious. A change would be nice.

  “You will like it,” Ho promised.

  “Wait just a minute. I need to take a tray up to Nicholas,” Sarah said.

  Rachel took a look at her friend’s flour-covered hands. “I’ll do it,” she volunteered. “You keep making noodles.”

  Moments later, carrying a breakfast tray, Rachel entered Nicholas’s room. Giselle was giving him a dose of laudanum, and then she placed the bottle back in the cupboard.

  “Coffee smells good,” Nicholas said from the bed.

  “I didn’t make it, so it ought to be good.” Rachel set the tray down and handed Nicholas the cup.

  He took a few sips and smiled. “Thank you. It was a bit of a rough night, but this helps.”

  “A rough night? How so?”

  “The pain seems to get much worse after dark. And these bandages around my ribs—they’re driving me to distraction.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Rachel arranged his tray for him, then stepped back. “I can’t stay, but I’ll be back up later, all right?”

  “That’s fine. I know you need to get ready for the train.”

  Rachel walked out into the hallway, Giselle close behind. She reached out and caught Giselle’s arm. “Is he all right?” she asked in a whisper. “He seems weaker today than he did yesterday.”

  “I think his injuries are taking a toll on him,” Giselle replied. “His spirits have been mostly positive this morning, so I’m looking on that as a good sign.”

  Rachel nodded, although she wasn’t quite convinced. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, all right?”

  “That’s sweet of you. Thank you.”

  Rachel took a deep breath as the train passengers began to stream in. Yes, she was worried about Nicholas, but that would have to wait. Right now, she had to be on task—these thefts were going to stop, and nothing would escape her notice.

  ***

  Mr. Brody found no discrepancies in that meal’s profits, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. It was over—surely it had to be over. The culprit knew they had been discovered, and was choosing to put an end to it before it went any further. She hummed a little song under her breath as she climbed up the stairs to fulfill her promise to Nicholas, not even remembering the last time she’d felt so optimistic.