A KNOCK AT the door brought servants carrying a large copper tub, followed by more who filled it. Betty poured lavender essence into the water and then set thick towels on the chair closest to the fire. Sophie took a deep breath and promptly threw up into the bowl on the bureau.
Emma let out a quiet squeal. “Are you sick?”
Jamie handed Sophie a washcloth and rubbed her back. “Not sick, per se.”
Emma tried to shuffle off the bed. “Are you—?”
“Don’t move, Em. You’ll hurt yourself.” Sophie held her hand up. “Yes, I’m pregnant.”
Emma clapped her hands and burst into tears. Sophie hugged Emma once her nausea calmed and then shoved Jamie out of the room. She turned the lock in the door and made her way to the bed. Emma gripped her sister’s hand as she gingerly climbed to the ground and hobbled to the tub.
“How are we going to do this?” Sophie murmured.
Emma waved to one of the chairs. “Drag that to the tub. I can do everything after that.”
Sophie did as she asked and then Emma did a pseudo vault into the tub. Balancing on her good foot, she knelt in the water and then reclined against the side.
Sophie let out a quiet whistle. “Dancing really is useful.”
Emma giggled and slid her swollen ankle over the edge. “You should have seen some of the stuff Hannah was doing. She’s way more impressive than me.”
“How is Hannah?”
“She’s great. I have some photos on my iPhone if you want to see. Grab my bag.”
Sophie pulled the bag over to the bed and rifled through it. “Ooh, shampoo and conditioner! Nice. Hairspray. Burberry perfume, my favorite. Shower gel and body lotion, excellent. Scrunchies! Is this the new Sybil Bartel novel? Ooh, and Anna Brooks?” Sophie held up a couple of paperbacks. “How many have I missed?”
Emma giggled. “I think just those.”
“Toothbrushes and toothpaste. Yes! Wait, how many did you buy? It would appear your hoarding instinct might have done some good for a change.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Buying multiples of one item does not make one a hoarder. The four-pack was on sale.”
Sophie pulled out a bottle of medication she was unfamiliar with. “What’s this?”
“They were for Alex. Dr. Higgins told her she could take it during her pregnancy if she was nauseous.”
“And they’re safe?”
Emma cocked her head and smirked. “Has Dr. Higgins ever steered anyone wrong, Soph?”
Sophie chuckled. “Good point. I’ll be stealing them now.” Sophie slid them into a pocket and went back to the bag. “Here’s your iPhone.”
Sophie sat by the fire and scrolled through the photos. Tears slid down her face and Emma’s heart twisted for her. Alex was like another sister to Sophie, and Emma knew she missed her. Sophie smiled. “They both look amazing. So does Luke. Jamie will want to see these.” She turned it off, wiped her tears away, and stuffed it back into the bag. “We’ll show him later.”
“Can you explain to me what a Topper is?”
Sophie handed Emma the bottle of shampoo. “Topper’s real name is Christopher Wade, and he’s Michael’s nephew. Apparently, his brother, Travis, couldn’t say Christopher and the nickname stuck.”
“Cute… I think.”
“Oh, he is. Actually, he’s entirely too cute for his own good.” Sophie’s eyes wrinkled with mischief. “He looks a lot like a seventeen-year-old Jamie, and could be his little brother. It’s a bit uncanny.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You think everyone looks like Jamie.”
Sophie wagged a finger at her. “Just wait. You’ll see. Oh, and by the way, he’s missing his left hand. Don’t stare.”
Emma frowned. “How did that happen?”
“The war.”
Emma sat up in shock. “Didn’t you say he’s seventeen? How the hell did he get in the war?”
“He lied about his age and paid a high price for it. But he’s on a good track now and working with the horses. Jamie adores him and would be lost without him sometimes.” Sophie took her seat again by the fire. “He’s the only one, other than Jamie, that Samson will let near him, so he’s been a Godsend. Of course, he’s still a little cretin sometimes when it comes to Michael. Topper likes to push his uncle’s buttons… typical teen in any century, I suppose.” Sophie smiled. “You cut your hair.”
Emma massaged the shampoo into her hair. “Yes. I needed a change.”
“Well, I love it.”
“Thanks.” Unlike Sophie, Emma had been blessed with fine, straight hair. The kind that would dry perfectly, right out of the pool or shower. It never needed to be styled, unless she wanted to fuss with it. For years, she had kept it long, almost as long as Sophie’s, but Emma liked to flirt with change and she did—often. Emma submerged and came out of the water with a sigh. “This is heaven.”
Sophie studied the fire. “I know what you mean. Although, I do miss a quick shower. It takes so much longer to get ready here.”
Once she finished with her hair, Emma focused on her hands and getting the dirt from under her nails. “I don’t suppose there’s a local salon where I can get a mani-pedi, huh?”
Sophie giggled. “You’re on your own there, babe.”
“Bummer.”
“You have a nasty bruise on your chin!” Sophie exclaimed and rose to her feet. “How did I not notice that before?”
“Jamie suggested I put some makeup on to cover it. It must have worked.”
“Are you in pain?”
Emma shrugged. “A little I guess. Really no biggie. Sit down, sis. I’m fine.”
Sophie took her seat again. “You told me how you got the sprained ankle, but who gave you the nightgown? I can’t imagine Clayton had one just lying around.”
“His girlfriend. She’s very nice, although, I don’t think they have a very good relationship.”
“I didn’t realize Clayton had a girlfriend…”
“Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but he was super attentive to me and I don’t think she liked it.”
“How attentive?”
“I don’t know. Attentive.” Emma sighed. “He’s so gorgeous, Sophie. And that drawl…”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “You hate cowboys.”
“I know. But he’s so… I don’t know… yummy.” She scooped her hand into the water and let it dribble through her fingers. “Figures. I meet a hot guy and he’s taken.”
Sophie laughed. “Oh, Emma, I have missed you so much.”
“Laugh at my heartbreak. Nice. I can see some things never change.”
Sophie covered her mouth with her hand. “So, what’s this other woman’s name?”
“Gwen.”
“Wait.” Sophie leaned forward. “Gwendolyn Butler?”
Emma nodded. “Yeah, that sounds right. Her brother’s name is Christopher, I think.”
Sophie started to giggle uncontrollably. “Oh, Em.”
“What?” Emma sat up and immediately regretted the action. “Ow.”
“Sorry,” Sophie said through her giggles.
“What’s so funny?”
“Gwen isn’t Clayton’s girlfriend.”
“She’s not?”
Sophie shook her head. “She’s Andrew’s. Well, not girlfriend in the modern sense. But total love of his life, and Gwen feels the same about him.”
“Seriously? Those two were bickering like a couple of old hens.” Emma drew her eyebrows together. “She and Clayton, on the other hand, seemed close.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it.” Sophie rose to her feet and gathered the towels. “Christopher and Clayton are business partners and very close friends. Andrew says that Christopher lords over Gwen, so I would imagine she and Clayton know each other quite well.”
“Really?” Emma’s heart fluttered. “So, not girlfriend?”
Sophie bit her lower lip. “I might regret this, but no, most definitely not girlfriend. And don’t you dare put that thought into Drew’s head. He’s already a mess by his and Gwen’s estrangement, if he thinks Clayton’s a threat, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“Why are they estranged if they’re in love?”
“Complicated. I don’t even know the whole story.” Sophie huffed. “I’ve tried to get it out of him, but he’s tight-lipped. I have a feeling neither of them will ever share.”
“So, I could potentially see Clayton Madden again?”
“Not in the near future, sissy. He only visits once or twice a year.”
“But he’s so close. Just a few hours by train.”
“But the trains have been commandeered by the army and are used on official business only.” Sophie studied her. “So, unless we go to D.C., I doubt you’ll see him for a while.”
Emma tugged on a loose string on the washcloth. “Hm.”
Sophie loomed over her. “No, hm, Emma Justine. You’re not here to have some kind of romantic fling.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Then why am I here?”
“You’re here because I wished you here.”
Emma laughed. “Maybe Mom was right. God really does give you everything you pray for because He’s afraid of you.”
“You just keep thinking that and we’ll be good.” Sophie dropped a towel on the chair. “I’m going to get you a nightgown. I’ll be right back.”
“It’s like noon.”
“You’re going to be in bed for at least two days, so you might as well be comfortable.”
Emma groaned. “Fine.”
* * *
Clayton swore and threw the stack of papers he held across the desk.
“Bad day?”
Clayton glanced up to see the smirking form of Christopher Butler leaning against his doorjamb. Clayton ignored his question and slumped in his chair. Christopher pushed away from the door and stepped inside the office. He bent down to pick up the discarded sheets and neatly stacked them in front of Clayton. “What’s this all about, Clay?”
Clayton stared out the window.
“This isn’t still about the girl, is it?” Christopher folded his tall form into a chair across from Clayton’s desk. “If she’s beautiful enough to get you this riled up, perhaps I should meet her.”
Clayton whipped his head around. “You’ll leave her alone.”
Christopher held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa. I’ve never seen you like this.”
Clayton rose to his feet and started to pace.
“Have you found anything out?”
Clayton shook his head. “She just up and disappeared.”
“What did Andrew say?”
“Nothin’.” Clayton swore. “It’s been three days and the only person who knows anything about her refuses to speak.”
“Not that he could now. Andrew left this morning.”
“I know.” Clayton ran his hands through his hair. “I dropped him at the station.”
Christopher chuckled. “Why all the secrecy?”
“I have no idea.” Clayton dragged his hands down his face. “I’ve approached this like any other case… with much less success.”
“I suppose you should figure out whose confidence he’s holding.”
Clayton leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “Confidence?”
“From all accounts, she doesn’t sound like a criminal or someone Andrew would hide without a reason. So, who asked him not to reveal her identity?”
“Yes. Whose confidence.” Clayton straightened and began to pace.
“Specifically, whose confidence…in Harrisburg.”
“Outside of you and I…there’s Gwen, his family… and… the Fords.”
Christopher tapped his fingers against the armrest.
“That’s it!” Clayton slapped Christopher on the back and laughed. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t put it together before. “I know where she is. I know exactly where she is.”
Christopher stood and motioned toward the door. “I take it you’ll need a few days off, then?”
“Yes.” Clayton grinned.
“I’ll clear it with the President. He’s been asking about the cavalry training. I’ll tell him I sent you back for a few days.”
“I don’t know why Gwen accuses you of being void of romance.”
“Does she now?” Christopher raised an eyebrow. “Did she tell you that?”
“She’d never reveal that to me.” Clayton backed out of his office and waved. “I overheard her telling Charity.” Clayton turned and made a run for the front doors, narrowly missing the nib pen Christopher threw at his head.
* * *
Emma’s stomach roiled. The sound of retching elicited a physical response and pulled her from sleep. Taking several deep breaths, she forced herself to focus on the sound. “Sophie?”
“Sorry, Em. Did I wake you?”
“No, not at all.” Emma sat up on her elbows. “I’m used to the sound of puking in the morning. It’s a bit like being awakened by the smell of fresh coffee.”
“Sorry.” Sophie made her way back to the bed.
“What are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to sneak in and bring you fresh clothes, but it didn’t quite go as planned.”
“Did you take one of the pills?”
“Not yet.” Sophie grimaced. “How’s your ankle?”
“Sore. I cannot believe three days have passed and I can still barely put any weight on it. I’m really sick of staring at these walls.” Emma flopped back onto the pillows.
“You should read, Em.”
“Yeah, right.” Emma snorted. “I’ve read the sum total of six books in my whole life. Other than the two books you just stole from me, I couldn’t care less about words on a page.”
Sophie tsked. “You’re missing out on adventure.”
“Oh, please.” Emma groaned. “Would you please get my Advil?”
“Sure.” Sophie grabbed Emma some water and handed her the pills. “Maybe we could venture outside today. You’ve only met the immediate family and there’s an entire cavalry to introduce you to.”
Emma sat up with a grin. “Ooh, men. I love men.”
Sophie giggled. “Christine will be here for breakfast and she’ll probably have her buggy. If she’s not busy, we could go for a tour.”
Emma swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’ll clear it with Jamie.” Sophie smiled. “Besides, we need to get you measured for your own wardrobe. The Paxton ball is coming up and you’ll need a new gown.”
“A ball in war time?”
“Little known fact about war time is that there were often parties and balls in an effort to distract from the horrors of war,” Sophie explained. “So Stephen decided to throw one this time.”
“Well, I never say no to new clothes.” Emma rubbed her hands together. “Will there be shoes involved?”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Emma Wellington never goes without new shoes either.”
Emma squealed and jumped off the mattress, landing on her good foot.
“Careful, Em.”
“I’m fine. Let’s just get dressed and go.”
Sophie chuckled. “Okay, okay.”
* * *
Clayton arrived at the Harrisburg train station just after noon. He’d arrived without baggage—or a horse—so he made his way to the livery. The cavalry had confiscated most of the healthy horses in the nation to use for the war; however, the fact that Richard was such a successful breeder meant the local livery had at least one or two on hand.
He strolled into the cavernous building and came face to face with the proprietor.
“Mr. Madden.” William Jenson stretched out his hand in greeting. “Were we expecting you?”
Clayton chuckled and shook his hand. “No, Will. I’m here on an unscheduled visit. No one knows I’m here and I was hopin’ you might have a mount that could be spared. I need to get home in a decent amount of time.”
Will nodded. “Sure thing, sir. In fact, I was about to head out to your place later today. Your brother was supposed to pick up two from me the day before yesterday. He never showed.”
Clayton tamped down his irritation and schooled his expression. “I’ll take the horses if you like and then you won’t have to make the trip.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Will made his way to the back of the building. “I’ll tack one up and you can lead the other.”
Clayton tipped his hat and stepped outside to wait. His brother was growing more and more unreliable, and if Clayton didn’t deal with him soon, he’d have to fill the President in on Richard’s condition.
Will walked outside with the horses, and Clayton mounted and took off for home. The ride was close to thirty minutes and by the time he pulled up at the arena, he was ready for a fight. He handed the horses off to one of the men and took off toward his house.
Clayton walked inside and heard Richard roar at the housekeeper. The rant was promptly followed by the sound of shattering glass, and the flurry of a woman running out of Richard’s office in tears. Clayton stopped her before she could get past him. “Hattie? What has he done?”
“Clayton, what are you doing here?”
“Never mind that right now, dear. What’s amiss?”
She pointed to the office. “He’s not right in the head.”
Hattie Jones raised the Madden children from early childhood. Their father was considerably wealthy in the early 1800s and their mother not the most maternal, so Hattie had been hired to help with the children.
Hattie, a beautiful woman from the backwoods of Virginia, was not yet in her forties, and a big part of the Madden family. Her life had been a tragic series of losses, and Richard and Clayton convinced her to move to Harrisburg with them in an effort to take care of her. Unfortunately, at the rate the elder Madden was going, Clayton may need to take her back to D.C. for her own safety.
“Hattie! Get back here this instant,” Richard bellowed down the hall.
She looked up at Clayton with a panicked expression.
“Go on up to your room, Hattie. I’ll take care of this,” Clayton said and Hattie fled.
Clayton trod down the hall to Richard’s office. Richard turned when Clayton stalked through the door and grabbed the desk as he fell against it. Clayton groaned. Richard was drunk and it wasn’t even two.
“Where the hell is that woman? I told her to get back here,” Richard hollered. “And what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“She’s not coming back, Richard.” Clayton removed his hat. “And I’m here for a few days… just in the nick of time it would seem.”
Richard swore, spouting several expletives directed toward Hattie.
“Don’t you dare refer to Hattie that way,” Clayton warned. “She’s been better to us than our own mother. While you sit here feeling sorry for yourself, she takes care of you, including cleaning up your drunken sick.”
Richard’s snort was followed by the sound of liquid pouring into a glass. “When are you leaving again, little brother? I’m sick of seeing your face.”
Clayton crossed his arms. “Now that I’ve seen you, Richard, I believe I’ll have to inform Lincoln of the current state of my highly respected brother. I’ll more than likely be forced to stay and clean up the messes that you have created.”
“No one asked you to do that.” Richard waved his hand dismissively toward Clayton. “You’re simply envious of my life and are trying to ruin me.”
“You disgust me, Richard!”
The argument escalated to new levels, and Clayton knew it would not end well. Richard came at him swinging, and got one fist to the eye before Clayton could defend himself. Once Clayton got his bearings, he gave his brother several good punches to the jaw, and Richard went down hard. Clayton wasn’t sure if Richard passed out from the fight or the booze, but he knew he’d be out for a while.
Clayton waited several minutes before leaving the office and looking for Hattie. He found her in her bedroom, crying on her bed. “Hattie, I would like you to pack a bag.”
Hattie grew hysterical. “You’re sending me away, Clayton? I didn’t provoke him, I promise I didn’t.”
Clayton grasped her upper arms and squeezed gently. “Hattie! How could you possibly think I’d ever send you away? You’re my family. I want to take you to the Wades’ for a few days. It’s not safe here, and I know they’ll give you refuge.” Hattie started to shake. Clayton pulled her into his arms and tried his best to comfort her. She was so much like a big sister to him; he hated seeing her so frightened. “Shh. It’ll all work out. You’ll see. It’ll just be for a little while.”
“What will happen to Richard?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” Clayton sighed. “Just pack a bag and I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.”
He made his way downstairs and checked to make sure his brother was still out of commission. He let out a disgusted snort at the sight of his brother on the floor. Clayton’s eye and hand were killing him, and he’d been home for less than an hour.
Damn his brother!
He made his way to the foyer to help Hattie with her bags, and heard her gasp. “Clayton, your eye! You should get the doctor to look at it.”
“I will, Hattie. Although, I think Richard might be worse off.” He took a deep breath and led her outside.
The walk next door wasn’t long and he delivered Hattie into the welcoming arms of Nona Wade. “Hattie, you can stay for as long as you need. We have plenty of room.”
Hattie grimaced. “Thank you, Nona. I just don’t know what I’d have done if Clayton hadn’t come back.”
Clayton removed his hat and gave a slight nod.
“Your eye! Did Richard do that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Clayton grimaced. “He’s having a bad day.”
Nona nodded. “It’s a good thing you’re here then, Clayton. Michael’s out at the arena if you’d like him to have a look at it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shifted from one foot to the other.
“Is there something else you need, dear?” Nona smiled. “Hattie will be fine if you have business to attend to.”
“I was wondering if Mrs. Ford was home.”
“No. She and Christine took Emma out for a tour.”
Clayton’s heart raced and his hands shook slightly as he tried not to grin with joy and vindication. “All right. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Why don’t you and Richard join us for dinner tonight? We hardly got to spend any time with you on your last visit. You can see Sophie then.”
“I’m not certain how well Richard will be feeling, but I’ll kindly take you up on the offer.”
“Excellent.” Nona pulled Hattie toward the stairs. “Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“No way in hell I’ll be late for this dinner,” he said under his breath as he set his hat on his head and strolled out the front door.