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  “I am now, thanks to Angeline.” Her voice, normally snide, and sometimes spiteful, was soft and defeated.

  “Why don’t you girls go on inside and lock up. I’ll take care of this fella for you.”

  Angeline took Alice’s arm and led her up the steps, locking the door behind them. Her hunger forgotten, she walked up the stairs with the older girl still at her side. When they reached the bedrooms, each of the three an identical small room housing Angeline, Lettie, and Alice, she let go of the girl’s arm.

  “Alice, are you all right?”

  It took a few moments, but she finally responded. “No, I’m not. I was afraid down there for the first time. I flirt a lot with men, and I let them kiss me, sometimes more. I know it’s dangerous, but with my parents gone in the fire, I don’t have anyone else. The men make me feel good, special.”

  Angeline’s heart pinched at the idea this beautiful young woman was lonely enough to look for affection from strangers. “You are special, but sometimes you keep other people away, people who do care about you. If you’d spend time with us, perhaps you wouldn’t need to feel good with these men.”

  Alice nodded. “I was lonely.”

  Regardless of whether or not the girl pushed her away, Angeline pulled her into a quick hug. Alice was like a limp rag in her arms.

  “Me, too,” Angeline whispered.

  “You too? Even with Lettie and that Sam fawning all over you?”

  Angeline shook her head. “I’ve been lonely most of my life. I have Lettie, but she keeps to herself with me as much as she does with all of you. I don’t have anyone besides myself. My sister lives far away. In fact, I don’t know where she lives.”

  “I didn’t know that. I thought you were so happy and had so many folks fawning on you.” Alice cleared her throat. “I was jealous.”

  Angeline sighed. “You’ve nothing to be jealous about. I found Sam because I wasn’t looking for him. If you spent more time taking care of yourself, being with your family here at The Blue Plate, maybe you’ll find what makes you happy, too.”

  Alice cocked her head to the right. “You know, that sounds like a fine idea.”

  “Good. Now, let’s go to bed before Pieter and Marta find out what we did.” Angeline leaned down and quickly hugged Alice again. This time she received a hug in return. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Angeline, and thank you. For everything.” Alice’s voice was thick with emotion.

  For the first time since they’d met, Angeline was seeing the true person that lurked beneath the persona Alice flashed the world with. “You’re welcome.”

  Angeline went back in her room, completely exhausted, and climbed into bed. This time she fell right to sleep, content with the help she’d given Alice. It wasn’t often that Angeline was able to be the one doing the rescuing. Truthfully, it felt nice—no, it felt wonderful. She’d done something good.

  Chapter Six

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  Sam stood in the kitchen rubbing his gritty eyes and waiting for the coffee to boil. He yawned so hard his jaw cracked loudly in the quiet kitchen. It had been a long night, full of dreams and dark figures. He couldn’t quite remember exactly what he’d dreamt, but he knew it had been different than his normal dreams.

  Most days, his subconscious returned to the war, to the painful memories he tried so hard to forget. The repetitive nature of his dreams meant he could not escape them.

  However, since he’d met Angeline, his dreams had slowly started to change. Instead of dreams of blood and pain, they were full of unknown threats and fear.

  He didn’t know what to make of them, and that bothered him more than not sleeping. Sam was off center and out of control with his obsession with Angeline. What he needed to do was marry her, then she’d be the first thing he saw every day and the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night. Perhaps then, he wouldn’t have bad dreams.

  The coffee was finally ready, and he could hardly wait to pour a cup. It wasn’t dawn yet so the dark, hot brew was much needed. He closed his eyes and sipped it slowly. The heat slid down his throat like nectar. He might be a terrible cook, but damn, he made good coffee.

  A knock at the door made the coffee splash on his hand.

  “Shit.” He set the cup down on the counter and shook his hand against the pain.

  Frowning, he went to the front door. He didn’t know who would be at the newspaper office at five in the morning, but it didn’t bode well. Sam walked as fast as his stiff leg could carry him, and by the time he made it to the door, whoever was on the other side pounded like a hammer on it.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Sam had the awful notion something had happened to Angeline. His heart froze at the thought.

  He yanked open the door to find Jessup on the front stoop. The old man’s nose was as red as a beet and crusty with mucus. He stared hard at Sam, his expression as serious as the blackness of the night behind him.

  “Jessup, what are you doing here?”

  “I seen your Pa.” Jessup wiped his nose on an equally dirty sleeve. “He was out yonder by the lake in just his union suit. I tried to run him down, but that man is fast as a greased pig.”

  Sam’s fear about Angeline turned to ice cold terror at the thought his father was out in the cold morning alone. “Where is he now?”

  “Dunno. It’s dark, and I lost sight of him. I ran right over here to get you.” Jessup’s eyes were wide and his brow furrowed.

  “Let me get my trousers on.” Ignoring the pain in his leg, Sam sprinted up the stairs to his room and yanked on his clothes. Guilt washed over him, filling him with remorse for not making sure his father was safe. Sam knew his Pa was suffering, that his brain was losing bits and pieces of itself.

  Now, he was out in nearly freezing temperatures with no clothes and maybe even no shoes. Sam tried to tamp down his panic, but it bubbled through him as if he’d eaten poison.

  Sam’s leg was screaming by the time he made it back downstairs. The front door was wide open, and Jessup was gone. Sam cursed and yanked on his boots so hard, he lost his balance and fell backwards into the wall.

  Stars exploded behind his eyes, and he gasped at the pain from the stupid act of being clumsy. Tears stung his eyes as he finished pulling on his boots a bit more slowly.

  “Sam?”

  Angeline’s voice cut through his fog of self-pity and fear. He glanced up to find her standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with concern. She wore her blue dress with the buttons done up wrong, a shawl around her shoulders, and her blond hair in a cloud as if she’d just risen from bed.

  Sam thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

  “Jessup came and got me. He said you were in trouble.” She stepped into the house and held out her hand to him. “Let’s go find your father.”

  Without asking any questions, she simply accepted that he needed help and came to his side. If he needed proof their connection was strong, it was right there in front of him.

  He got to his feet and took her hand. “My father is down by the lake. We’ll need light.”

  “Jessup has a lantern. He’s waiting for us.”

  He couldn’t begin to express enough gratitude to his friends for their help. God only knew what he’d done right to deserve it, but he was not about to question it.

  They walked out the door together, the wind immediately cutting into his face. He held down his hat with one hand and walked toward the light at the end of the street. It had to be Jessup, the crazy old man who had suddenly become his guardian angel. It was frigid, cold enough to make his hands numb by the time they’d walked the half a mile to the edge of the lake.

  Jessup was nearly dancing in place. “’Bout time you got here. I’m about to freeze my balls off.”

  Angeline made a choking sound.

  “Jessup, just tell me where you saw him.” Sam peered through the darkness, trying to see a shadow that moved, a glint of anything.

  There was no moon, nothing shining down to gu
ide them, other than the lantern clutched in Jessup’s hand. Sam took it from him and started walking around the edge of the lake. The leaves, long since dead from the previous fall, crunched beneath their feet, along with many fallen sticks. In the darkness, the buds of spring were not visible.

  The lake lapped gently to the right, guiding them along the shore. They walked single file with ten feet between them, Sam at the head of the column.

  “Pa!”

  “Mr. Carver!”

  “Crazy old man!”

  Sam cursed at Jessup. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

  “Exactly. I know loco when I see it. ’Sides, you won’t care if’n we find him.”

  Sam couldn’t argue with that logic. They pushed on, slowing down to check behind each boulder, each tree. Sam’s feet grew numb, so he knew his father must be completely cold. The fact Angeline was plodding along behind him made him love her all the more.

  “Pa! Where are you?”

  A noise from the left made Sam stop so suddenly that Angeline ran into him. Her soft breasts pushed into his back and a small “oof” popped from her mouth.

  “Did you hear that?”

  The three of them stopped, the only sound their harsh breathing. Then Sam heard it again. A soft cry, like a child’s. His leg was dragging behind him as Sam headed toward the sound. Angeline passed him, her skirt hiked up so she could run. Jessup was right behind her, waddling like a dirty duck. Sam felt helpless and useless as they left him limping in the leaves. He cursed his own body and picked up as much speed as he could.

  “I found him. He’s here, Sam!” Angeline’s voice guided him through the darkness until he found them near a group of boulders.

  She’d taken off her shawl, a threadbare wool with barely enough warmth to keep a mouse warm, and put it around his father’s shoulders. The older man was shaking so hard, his teeth clacked together.

  Sam dropped to his knees, took his father into his arms, and somehow managed not to cry. He had been selfishly focusing on Angeline, on his love for her, and his father had gotten bad enough to go wandering in the night on his own. He could have died, and Sam would’ve been completely to blame.

  “Pa, are you all right?”

  “Sam? What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

  A half-sob, half-laugh jumped up his throat. Sam took off his own coat and handed Angeline’s shawl back to her with a grateful smile. Later on, when he didn’t feel so overwhelmed, he’d thank her properly for her help.

  “I’m cold.”

  “I know, Pa. Let’s get you back to the house.”

  Between the three of them, they managed to get his father on his feet, but he was nearly dead weight. Likely his legs were too cold to function. It broke Sam’s heart to see his father helpless and dependent on strangers to help him back home, dressed only in his union suit and tears.

  When they got into the house, every one of them was huffing like a locomotive. He led them to the front parlor where there was a settee. With less grace and more desperation, they maneuvered themselves like a horse with eight legs until the older Carver was safely lying on the settee.

  Jessup coughed and looked between Sam and Angeline. “If’n you folks got this situation in hand, I’m gonna go back to the Blue Plate and get some fresh biscuits.”

  Sam nodded. “Thank you, Jessup. I’ll see to it you have fresh biscuits every day. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t seen him.” He gazed down at his father, and his heart pinched hard enough to stop his breath.

  “Ain’t nothing, but I will hold you to the biscuits promise.” Jessup nodded to Angeline then disappeared out the door, leaving behind a rank odor and an amazing amount of good deeds.

  She took Sam’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I should’ve been watching him. I should’ve known something could happen.” He could spend all night talking about what he should have done, but it didn’t change a damn thing.

  His father seemed to fall asleep immediately, his expression normal and almost childlike. Angeline took an afghan from the back of the settee and covered his father. Sam checked him for injuries, but other than scratches on his feet, he seemed to be fine.

  Angeline tugged at Sam’s arm. “I smell coffee. Why don’t we go warm up?”

  Sam didn’t want to leave his father yet, but he had to. He needed time to get hold of his emotions, and he also needed to tell her the truth about what was happening.

  They walked to the kitchen, her small hand more than comforting tucked into his own. He hadn’t realized the depth of his love until that moment. Without thinking about it, he kissed her hard and quick.

  “I love you, Angel.”

  Her face flushed pink, and she looked down at their joined hands. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

  He wasn’t disappointed at her lack of response because he saw the love in her eyes before she averted her gaze. She must not be ready to tell him yet. Sam was patient enough to wait.

  The coffee waited on the stove, hot and strong. At least that small comfort would help him build up his courage enough to talk. Pouring the brew was an everyday chore, enough to bring some normalcy to an otherwise abnormal morning.

  The sun had started to rise, and the pre-dawn light filtered in through the window as they sat at the rickety table. He looked down at the old, splintered top and realized there was more he’d been ignoring. Their house was full of pitiful furniture and even more pitiful men.

  “I have kept something from you. I think because I didn’t want anyone to think less of him. My father has been sick for some time. Not sick in his body but in his mind.” Sam sipped at the coffee. “I started seeing it about two years ago. Little things, like forgetting where he left something or someone’s name. He never forgot anything.”

  “Anyone might have seen it as just forgetfulness.” Angeline watched him with her steady blue gaze.

  Sam ran his hand across the table top. “I see this table, and I realize I ignored more than my father’s memory loss. I’ve spent so much time thinking about me and my needs that I turned into a selfish bastard.”

  “You’re not selfish.” She put her hand over his. “You’re human.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, I am. After I realized something was wrong with my father, I kept it from everyone. Like it was a dirty secret to hide away.”

  She pulled her hand away and looked down at her cup. “Sometimes, you have to keep secrets.”

  Any other time, he would’ve asked her what she meant by that.

  “Because I kept one secret, then there was another and another. He forgot who I was, who he was. The other day, he was calling my mother’s name, and she died ten years ago.” Sam had never felt so helpless as he had in the woods, looking for his father. He’d survived a war, but he’d almost allowed his father to die.

  He shook his head. “He needs to have someone take care of him during the day, and obviously, keep an eye on him at night. I don’t know how I can do this.” Sam never imagined he’d be the one taking care of his father instead of the other way around.

  “I can help when I’m not working. I can cook and clean up around here. Perhaps if you hired someone to take care of the newspaper, that would give you time to take care of him.” Angeline touched his hand again. “You have friends who will help you.”

  Sam sighed heavily. He couldn’t expect anyone to help out indefinitely. No, he had to look to the future, and for that, he had to have money.

  “Angel, you are amazing. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t accept it.” He smiled at her sadly. “The only way you’re cooking in this house is if you marry me.”

  He didn’t mean it, or perhaps he did and needed to get it said. Her reaction, however, made him realize it was far too soon to mention marriage.

  Angeline’s face drained of all color so quickly, he swore he could actually see the blood travel down her skin. Her eyes grew wide as saucers, and her lips pinched together so tig
htly they didn’t even appear pink anymore.

  “I can’t marry you, Sam.” Each word was torn from her throat, ragged and raw.

  He knew he was hearing what she hid deep inside. “Why not?”

  She shook her head.

  Sam took her hands in his, noting they were cold and trembling. “Trust me, Angel. Please, tell me whatever it is. It won’t change how I feel about you. You are firmly inside my heart, and nothing is going to dislodge you.”

  A single tear leaked down her cheek, but she still said nothing.

  Sam dropped to his knees beside her and took her face in his hands. The rest of her shook just as hard as her hands. It was fear he saw in her eyes.

  “You’re scaring me, and believe me, I’ve had enough scaring for one day. Please, just tell me.”

  “You are a wonderful person, Sam. Better than I deserve, but I can’t marry you because I’m already married.”

  A roar went through his ears, and he couldn’t see anything for a few moments. Then he managed to suck in a breath, and his brain recognized what she said.

  “Oh, Angel.” He kissed her forehead. “I still want to marry you no matter what. Please tell me you don’t love him.”

  She made a sound that sounded something like a laugh but was more of a sound of pain. “Love him? I hate him more than I ever thought I could hate someone. He destroyed my life and my future.”

  It explained so much, everything really. She had run from a husband who had used his fists on her. Then she’d come to Forestville and into Sam’s heart.

  He pulled her into his arms and held her. It was a day of heavy emotions and confessions. Sam didn’t know what it meant for the two of them, what the future held for them, but he did know he’d meant what he’d said.

  Sam wanted to marry Angeline no matter what.

  Angeline walked back to the Blue Plate with her heart in tatters. It had been such a strange morning, and it was barely past dawn. She had been so worried about the older Mr. Carver when Jessup had come to the kitchen to get her.

  It was more stressful than three days earlier when Alice had needed her help to get rid of an unwanted suitor. Then she’d been frightened but not truly afraid. This time, she’d been more so, knowing that Mr. Carver’s life was in danger.