“Yes. I’m fine, Ty,” she replied with a brilliant smile. “We’re just having dinner. I fear we’re quite an inconvenience to Miss Piersal, but it will soon end. She won’t have to bother with us much longer. Have you heard that Morgan and Callie Mae will be staying at The Duchess? They’re going to re-open on Thursday.”
“I heard that,” Ty replied, taking an empty chair from a nearby table and spinning it around. Straddling it, he looked directly at Lillian. “You can go along home now. I’ll stay with the ladies and see they get back to The Duchess safely. Now, who want’s dessert? I could use a slice of Laurie’s Apple Pie and a cup of coffee,” he said with a grin.
Lilly rose and dropped her napkin on the table.
“Thank you, Mr. Wainwright,” she said coolly. “I do have a life of my own and many things to attend to. I’ll be over in the morning to bring you all breakfast,” she continued as she gathered reticule and a shawl.
“No need,” Jane said happily. “Callie Mae will be in town. She said she’s going to bring some things from home to make it more comfortable for Morgan. I don’t think we’ll be in need of your…supervision any longer.”
Lilly nodded and sailed out the door without another word. At home she dropped onto a chair in her parlor. Heavens, what a day! It still galled her that she’d forgotten to mention payment. If those men were going to make money by taking the girls to Dodge City, surely, she should be compensated? After all, it was her idea, and she was taking quite a risk. She hoped Ty Wainwright wasn’t planning on making a nuisance of himself; If so, her scheming might be all for naught. And that Marilee! Who did she think she was, asking such questions about Mead! She’d seen her looking at him a number of times, and to be honest, he’d done the same. She was bracing herself to confront him about it when the unfortunate incident happened at The Duchess.
Fancy would clearly be the biggest problem. The girl was brash and could be loud on occasion, and she was a scrapper. She’d proven that the night of the gunfight when she’d been standing on the piano knocking men senseless with a pool stick. Lilly imagined she would make the most noise, maybe even enough to get the men to cut and run. Oh dear, her head was pounding right along with her heart, and she went to the tiny kitchen to get something for the pain. Carefully she put a few drops of laudanum on a spoon and took it. Sighing, she capped the bottle, noticing it was almost empty. The doctor had given it to her to help her sleep the night she’d been so distressed over Mead’s injury. Lilly took his warning seriously.
“A few drops, Miss Piersal,” he’d stated firmly. “No more. In my opinion, this medicine while useful is also dangerous. Take too much and it can cause you to become unresponsive.”
Lilly promised to use it in small increments and only when necessary. And she’d kept that promise.
Suddenly inspiration hit her, and she realized the answer to her problem had been right there in her hand. If she drugged a pot of tea and got the girls to drink some, they would be far less likely to put up a fuss! It was the perfect solution to her problem. Tomorrow night she would go over to The Duchess late in the evening bearing a cake she would order from Laurie Dixon. There she would make them all tea and apologize for thinking the worst of them. By the time the tea was gone she would be able to usher them all up to bed with no one the wiser. Of course, she would be lying through her teeth, and she’d have to make sure they believed her no matter how hard it was. Still, she could do it. Look how many times she’d convinced ladies in town to purchase things they had no business wearing! Things made for younger, prettier women, like her. Anyone who sold fashions to women had better be able to slap a phony smile on their face and be effusive in praise.
Happily, her headache much better, Lilly took herself off to bed. In the morning she’d go over to Dr. Brubaker’s office and get a new bottle. Hopefully, by the time Callie Mae and Morgan arrived in town on Thursday, the girls would be long gone.
Gettinganother bottle from the good doctor was not as easy as she thought it would be.
“I don’t think so, Miss Piersal,” he replied, frowning down at her. “The one I gave you should have lasted much longer. I warned you it was addictive. Have you been using it every night to fall asleep?”
“No, Dr. Brubaker, not at all. In fact, I’ve only used it a few times and taken very few drops. Last night was especially trying for me, worried about Mead as I naturally am, and I had a terrible headache. Somehow, the bottle slipped from my hand and broke against the side of the sink.”
“How is the headache today?”
“It’s a little better, and I probably won’t even take any laudanum, but it’s reassuring to have it on hand. Just in case, you understand,” she pleaded prettily. “Why some nights I wake up after seeing Mead’s bloody leg in my nightmares,” she continued, dabbing at dry eyes.
“All right, Miss Piersal,” he sighed before going to a glass fronted cabinet and unlocking the door. “But this is the last bottle I’ll give you unless you have a damn good reason. I suggest trying warm milk, and adding a drop of brandy wouldn’t hurt now and then.” With a scowl he handed it over to her.
“Thank you, Dr. Brubaker. You’re very kind and understanding.”
A grunt was his only reply as she handed over the fee.
“Have you had any news of Mead?”
“No, not a word,” Lilly sadly replied. “I thought there’d be a letter by now.”
“Yes, well you never know. The mail is slow, and I doubt he’s able to get to the telegraph office. You just have to be patient. Surgery of any kind requires healing and I’m sure Mead will need a lot of nursing care.”
“That’s true. Well, thank you again, doctor. I’d best get the girls and take them to breakfast. I don’t want to be late opening my shop. Good day.”
He watchedher walk away and regretted giving her the medicine. She didn’t appear to be suffering from a headache. Her eyes had been bright and clear and there was a decided skip to her step as she made her way down the boardwalk and disappeared around the corner. A short time later he watched her urge the girls from the Duchess across the street to the café for their morning meal. Personally, he would be relieved when Callie Mae and Morgan moved into the saloon. At least he would be able to stop worrying about Jane. She was entirely too trusting and impulsive for his liking. In fact, he was of the opinion that a pretty young girl like that shouldn’t even set foot in a saloon, but there was nothing he could do about it. Callie Mae certainly hadn’t consulted him before she made the decision to bring them all from an orphanage in Saint Louis. Of course, without Callie Mae, they may have ended up in an even worse situation. The best thing that could happen now would be for them all to be married to suitable men and settled before some wrangler swept one off her feet and she disappeared. Lord, he hoped it would not be Jane.
CHAPTER13
The first thing Mead noted was the change in temperature. It was much colder and he pulled the strange overcoat closer around him as he took a few minutes to survey his surroundings. Clearly, he was back in the grove but there was less foliage. The trees seemed to have thinned out, and he could just make out the road as dawn broke. He sat there; the silence almost eerie as he got his bearings. He was home! It was a bit unbelievable, and parts of his experience now seemed too farfetched to be true. He wondered if he’d dreamt the entire thing. Then he stood and knew every damn bit had actually happened.
Witt and Cara truly existed. His brother, Morgan, wasn’t actually his brother at all, but a Whittaker descendant from the future. It was exhilarating, and he was truly exhausted. He recalled the mind-numbing madness as he and Cara desperately tried to figure out what had happened to put Witt’s existence into question. Their insane dash to get Mead back to the past in hopes he could stop a series of events from unfolding into a nightmare with massive implications. Was he too late? There was no way to determine that, and at that moment he also realized he’d failed to ask the one question that might ensure Witt’s survival. Who was Witt’s great-great-great grandmother?
Witt knew and Mead suspected Cara did too, but neither had shared that information with him. It was an incredible oversight on all of their parts, and at this point he wasn’t even sure that young woman, whoever she might be, was still alive. Making his way carefully toward the road he was shocked to hear the jingle of a wagon and even more stunned to see Morgan.
“How did you know?”
“I didn’t, I just took a chance,” Morgan replied pulling to a stop and setting the brake. “I’ve been coming by the grove twice a day, hoping you might return unexpectedly. How are you?” Jumping down he pulled Mead into his embrace and nearly pounded him on the back in his enthusiasm.
