Chapter 13

"Do you remember how long it took us to cross Nebraska on the wagon train?" Kat marveled at the speed of their travel as they stepped down from the train in Omaha. They were near enough to the river that she could see the steamboat docked just a few hundred feet away.

The people of Omaha had yet to build a bridge across the Missouri River for the train to continue eastward. Instead, eastbound travelers were forced to off-load their possessions from the train, take everything with them aboard a ferry across the river to Council Bluffs, Iowa, and catch the train there. It was a cumbersome process, and the river was more mud than water, its banks prone to flooding. Yet despite that, the bridge was proving to be a monumental task. Still, the same hardworking and determined folks who'd laid the tracks for the railroad all the way across the country would also see that this bridge got built.

"No, I don't remember much of that leg of the journey. I was unconscious for most of it. But what I do recall was the boredom."

Kat turned somber. "The least boring day of that trip was when O'Tooles' wagon broke a wheel and rolled over in the creek."

"I do remember that." Seb nodded thoughtfully. "It was good to see the O'Tooles, especially after they'd had some time to heal from losing Shay."

"They're enduring all right, but then what choice does anyone have in this life but to endure? Having Bruce there to show them how to get by sure helps. But there'll always be an empty place in their hearts. I'll always remember that day, no matter how hard I try to forget it."

Seb turned to study his wife. "Your knowledge of what to do with someone who'd drowned saved most of that family, Kat. Did you learn that from your father back in Chicago?"

"Yes. We came running once when a child fell into a water tank. Pa saved him. I can remember a couple of other times, too, when we lost a few. I learned hard lessons back then." Kat thought of how devastated the O'Tooles had been when Shay couldn't be revived.

Neither of them could manage a smile as they made their way down the platform steps at the train station. Seb walked beside her, both of them exhausted, hungry, and in need of washing up. "Let's go see when the next boat heads south to Independence," he said.

They found the ticket office and learned that the boat was scheduled to set sail tomorrow morning at first light. That gave them time to rest, eat something, and get cleaned up for the journey ahead. As they left the office with their tickets, Kat leaned her shoulder against Seb's. "I suppose we should be grateful the boat isn't sailing right away, only now I've got just enough time to worry. I'm frightened of what could happen."

"Don't be scared. There's no possible way someone sent to Cheyenne to kill or kidnap us could know we're on our way to Independence."

Both of them looked around nervously, as if Seb's confidence might be enough to bring on trouble. No killers seemed to be bearing down on them, though it was hard to tell in the bustling river town.

"Keep talking," Kat said. "Maybe I'll believe you if you say it enough."

Seb gave her a tired smile. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

"I had my eyes closed for two hours on two separate occasions. I'm not sure there was much sleep involved. And I dozed for a bit earlier today before we arrived."

"I'm about a match for that. Although I don't remember a thing about the trip from North Platte to Fort Kearny—except for stopping for water."

"Every fifteen miles all night and all day. I don't believe I slept through a single stop. Why don't you spend your time inventing a train engine that can run for days without stopping."

"I'll put it on my list. But the trains need to stop to pick up and let off passengers, and to load and off-load supplies. They'd still have to stop."

"In some ways, tearing across the country so fast makes it less real than walking the whole way. It makes Cheyenne seem like a place we've left behind forever."

"We'll get back there, Kat."

He hesitated, and that drew her full attention. "What is it?"

Omaha was a hectic boomtown like so many that had gotten the train. Carriages and freight wagons rushed along. Voices shouted, and the clip-clop of horses' hooves created a din. The train chugged behind them, turning around to set out again across the nation. Nearby the river flowed along, making its own steady roar beneath everything else.

In the middle of what amounted to a riot of noise, Seb asked, "What do you think will come of your talk with Mr. Etherton?"

Kat shook her head. "We ran off so fast, the man hasn't had time to look anything up."

"Well, Beth thinks you should be able to fight your uncle. He had no right to lock you away in that asylum."

"Her words were mainly for Ginny. She's the one who's in danger."

"And yet you're afraid of him."

Kat shuddered to think of Uncle Patrick.

"You're right about his being a powerful man, but you're a married woman now, Kat. I'd go with you and face him. I know you're afraid, but in the end we'd win. No jury could look at you and listen to you for a single minute and not recognize that you're sane and capable of being on your own."

"Yes, he had no right. And there's no law that could declare he has any power over me. I'm still afraid, though."

"What if it turns out he's behind that man coming after you? We'll have no choice but to take him to court. Either that or run for Hidden Canyon."

"For now, I'm content to believe all this trouble stems from you."

Seb laughed. "It probably does."

Kat took his hand. "Let's face Independence first. We'll spend tonight cleaning up, resting, sharing a meal, and getting ready to go meet your lawyer."

Seb nodded, then pointed at a dry-goods store down the street. "Look, there's a ready-made dress in that store's front window. Let's see if they have your size."

"Yvette?"

The woman, fifty or so feet away, startled like a wild animal when Mama called out to her. They'd tried to bring her supplies right away after the first time they'd seen her. But when they'd come to the canyon, she hadn't been around until now.

She spun to face the voice, then froze. Her white-blond hair was a bush. She stood just outside a grove of trees, not that far from the mouth of the cave.

Beth remembered her perfectly styled hair last fall. At the time, Beth had assumed she had a lady's maid, but if no one could touch her, then no. Her dress wasn't dirty. She must be washing it in the hot springs and bathing regularly. She was thinner than she'd been last fall, yet she didn't look as if she were starving. And her eyes looked as frightened as a young doe.

"Do you remember me? It's Eugenia, from the asylum."

"I'm not going back there." Yvette's voice had been refined last fall, very proper until she started screaming. Now it creaked like a rusted hinge.

Beth had to wonder if those were the first words she'd spoken in six months.

"I'm not going back either, and I would never try and make you go back," Mama said. "We both got away. We're staying away forever." Yvette's eyes slipped to the left, where Oscar was standing. He'd stayed back, but not all that far.

Beth stood at Mama's side.

"Can I talk to you, Yvette? I brought a gift for you. I'd like to help you." Mama lifted her arms a bit to show her a neatly folded dress. They were of a similar height, though Yvette was slimmer. On top of the dress was a plate that held a comb and a bar of soap, and beneath the dress a blanket.

"And I brought sugar cookies," Beth said. She prayed silently, wondering what God would have them do for such a wounded creature. Based on Mama's stories and what Beth had witnessed last fall, Yvette seemed thoroughly mad and very dangerous, but could she be helped? Could she accept friendship and kindness? Could a person's sanity, once lost, be regained? Beth had no idea. If it could be done, God would have to guide them.

Mama took a few steps forward, slowly.

Yvette tensed, watching, as if ready to take flight at any moment.

"If you want me to stay away, I will. I'll leave the gifts here, and we'll leave you alone. The cave you're living in is a decent enough home, with hot water and a warm room during the winter. But we invite you to join us for meals, Yvette. And for company if you're lonely. You could live in the cave and come eat with us. We have plenty of food, vegetables, and fresh milk. We'd be glad to share."

Mama kept inching forward as she talked, closing the distance between herself and Yvette. Beth stayed back, watching for the knife Yvette had wielded last fall. She tried to remain calm and let Mama reach out to someone so fragile.

Mama must've been wary, too, because she stopped, crouched, and lowered her armload of supplies to the ground ten feet away from Yvette, the wrapped cookies on top. Mama then backed up and sat on the grass. "Come and eat, Yvette. I'll bring you food for every meal if you want. I'd like to talk with you, offer you friendship."

Yvette looked between the cookies and Mama, her eyes finally locking on the cookies as if they were too much to resist. She moved cautiously to the plate, then sat and curled her legs beneath her, keeping her distance from Mama. She unwrapped the cookies, grabbed one, and took a bite. Her eyes closed, a blissful expression on her face.

Beth knew about the food in the cave: cases of canned vegetables, lots of beans, things they hadn't needed yet but had brought along to store for later.

Yvette's eyes opened, and she focused on Mama. After that first bite, she ate tiny nibbles of the cookie and chewed slowly as if to make it last as long as possible.

"I know you've been hurt, Yvette. I was hurt, too. Dr. Horecroft was cruel to us both. My daughter helped me escape." Mama gestured toward Beth. "You managed to get away, too. I know Thaddeus Rutledge brought you out here."

They'd talked about just what to say. Yvette had been upset when Father had talked of his wife. Yvette seemed to believe she was his wife. But she hadn't truly gone wild until he'd struck her. After that, she'd had what Mama said was her "usual outburst" whenever anyone touched her. If a raging knife attack could be called usual.

Yvette blinked and said quietly, "I-I like the cookies."

Beth realized then that, beneath the unkempt hair and limp dress, Yvette was an unusually pretty woman. If Yvette had been terribly hurt, physically or emotionally or both, Beth wondered if that was what had driven her mad. And if so, could she be brought back to her senses by their showing her kindness? And if she did join them, could Yvette ever be trusted? Could she be touched without a blinding rage consuming her?

How dangerous was she?

"And I like the cave."

"I'm glad you found the supplies in the cave and used them," Mama said. "I'll come back and bring more blankets and a mattress filled with dry prairie grass so you can have a comfortable bed. What else do you need?"

Yvette started humming. She finished her cookie and picked up another one. As she sat eating, humming, she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out Father's knife. She stared at the blade.

Beth braced herself to rush to the woman if she cut herself. Or to defend Mama if Yvette attacked her. For now, Beth stayed back and listened to a haunting melody coming from Yvette, barely audible. It was the same one Yvette had been humming when she and Jake had first seen her.

The melody niggled at the edge of Beth's memory. Yvette hummed just a few notes of it, over and over again. But no matter how hard she tried, Beth couldn't place it.

A few minutes later, when the cookies were gone, Yvette stood and said to Mama, "Thank you. I'd like a mattress."

Mama smiled. "I'll bring it right away. Won't it be nice to sleep in a soft bed again? One more thing—we have a worship service every Sunday morning at our cabin. Have you seen our cabin?"

"I know where you live. I've been watching you. You have babies in the cabin."

A chill rushed up Beth's spine.

"Tomorrow is Sunday." Mama's voice remained kind, but Beth knew her mama well. There was a thread of tension in the invitation. Could Yvette be trusted near the babies? Could she be trusted near any of them?

"Come and join us early enough for breakfast, then stay for church. We'll hold our meeting outside, and you can stay well back if you wish. But you can worship the Lord with us and listen to our Bible reading. We're all so thankful to have gotten away from the asylum. To have found this place we call Hidden Canyon, where the men who hurt us can't find us."

Yvette jumped just a bit when Mama mentioned those men. Then she began humming again, picked up the dress and blanket and other things, never taking her eyes off Mama. She whirled and dashed into the grove, probably heading for the cave.

Mama turned and walked back to join Beth and Oscar. It was only when Mama got close that Beth could see she was crying.