Megan was somewhat taken aback. She hadn’t considered what she must look like, but suspected it was at least as bad as she felt. A headache powder would be very welcome, so she nodded her consent.
Steve, who had been a tower of strength throughout, explained he needed to fill in the Sheriff, and departed.
Rachel’s surprise at seeing the disheveled party at her door quickly turned to concern as she hustled Megan into the kitchen.
“You’re the woman who was kidnapped,” she gasped. She leaned forward and gently touched Megan’s face in a few places. “What happened?”
“I’m afraid I wasn’t being too cooperative so he hit me—hard enough to knock me out, I’m afraid. One minute I was pulling his hair and screaming in his ear, and the next I was waking up in a cave—the mine.”
“Well that accounts for the bruising, then, and the headache I can see in your eyes. Sit tight.”
As Rachel set to work, Randy, Moses, and occasionally Ted explained the events of the day from their perspective. Rachel looked over at Megan with approbation. Once they’d shared their tale, they went into the parlor to discuss the day’s events and its ramifications.
The willow bark decoction was bitter, but was followed by some sugared tea, and Megan begin to perk up a bit.
“Sit still and try to relax while I clean you up. This is witch hazel and quite soothing, but it may sting a bit on the scrapes.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Evans!”
Then Rachel brought a clean, dampened cloth smeared with a thin layer of a greenish gel she had squeezed from a leaf from an odd looking plant. Seeing the questioning look on her face, Rachel explained, “This plant, called aloe, is native to this area and has medicinal properties, Mrs. Bristol. My husband knows my interest in herbal remedies and brought it to me on his first visit home some months ago. I’ve found it works wonders for skin ailments and should soothe your face.”
Ted popped his head into the kitchen to find Rachel pressing a compress against Megan's cheek.
“Now you hold it there until you stop hurting,” she admonished, and then slipped away leaving the two alone.
After confirming for himself she was safe and being well-treated for her injuries, Ted explained his concern
“Megan, may I have your permission to represent Camellia in business discussions?”
“Why, yes! I imagine she's somewhat of an heiress, now, isn't she, if what Moses said about the quality of ore is true. Of course, she cannot exactly do any work on the mine, so that is a consideration.”
“Exactly” said Ted, “and this is the kind of negotiations I do all the time for the railroad. I had thought they would just need me as an engineer, but it seems I am a jack-of-all-trades these days.”
Megan smiled up at him. “Well, if we need legal advice, we can always consult with my brother, but I certainly trust you to do what's right for Camellia.”
“Yes, you and I need to do some talking about Camellia, too. Randy Evans has offered to add her to his family.” He kept his face neutral, but she had caught him in the nursery playing with Camellia and snuggling his face into her soft tummy. The two had seemed quite delighted with one another.
Ted had also received a lesson on burping and why one did not allow an infant, no matter how greedy, to slurp down an entire bottle without a break. He also believed, quite firmly now, in the benefits of a cloth on the shoulder “just in case.” But he was clearly enchanted with the child. Surely he had no intention of suggesting . . .
Screwing up her eyes a bit she squinted at him, and then stated calmly, “Her mother, Sonia, gave her to me. While her father had a claim which I would have honored, I don’t think she intended for me to allow anyone else to rear her. I realize that when we married you became my legal guardian, a subject we may discuss at another time, but you also took on my responsibilities toward Camellia. You have never struck me as one to shirk a responsibility.”
The relief on Ted’s face was palpable and he bent over to kiss his wife fully on the lips.
“That’s what I hoped you’d say! I’ll let Randy know she’s our daughter now.”
~~~
Sheriff Behan stared at the prisoner.
The doctor had tended to the flesh wound left by Moses’ bullet.
The man’s face was a mess, scratched and bleeding, and his nose had been reset by the doctor. But there was no mustache. The wanted poster clearly showed a massive handlebar mustache, and the man who’d kidnapped the woman had been wearing that self-same mustache, he’d been assured.
Pete stared back truculently. “I want to charge that Amazon with assault. She’s vicious and dangerous. A wildcat! No wonder Willie went mad after she crippled him!”
Steve had just slipped in the door and joined the general hilarity at Pete’s declaration.
As the Sheriff’s steely gaze swept the room, Steve hastened to explain, “That ‘Amazon’ is no bigger than a handful and a real gentlewoman.”
“But where’s his mustache?”
Steve smiled, remembering Mrs. Bristol pulling an object from her pocket and entrusting it to him. He now reached into his own pocket and placed a dead rodent on the desk. As the Sheriff reared back in his seat, Steve carefully spread open the mass of fur to reveal a handlebar mustache, considerably worse for the wear. Behan glared at it, then over to the prisoner, and then back at the mustache.
“So that’s how he hid in plain sight.”
~~~
There were yet a great many
