The Marriage Mishap, page 21
Adam sprang from the bed and grabbed his drawers. “What is it?”
“It’s your brother, sir. He’s been shot.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Shot? Who shot him?”
Adam shoved into his trousers and charged across the room.
Bernard fell back.
“What the hell happened?”
In the shadows, Haley sprang from the bed and slipped into Adam’s shirt. “Where is Kip?”
Trembling, Bernard pointed down the hall. “I put him in the last bedroom.”
Adam fastened his trousers. “How did he get here?”
“Send for the doctor, Bernard, and get Mrs. Ardmore up here with water and bandages. I’ll be right there.” Haley disappeared through the connecting door to her bedroom.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve already dispatched Edward for the doctor and Mr. Harrington.” Bernard gulped hard, then turned to Adam. “The man who brought him here is waiting downstairs.”
Adam shoved him aside.
“Sir?”
He turned back. In the pale light, Bernard’s face was ashen. Adam’s gut knotted.
“It’s your father’s guard from the construction site. He shot him.”
A string of filthy curses tumbled from Adam’s lips as he hurried down the staircase. In the foyer, the front door stood open, and deep in the house he heard shouts and running feet. A man stood in the corner.
His eyes bulged in his colorless face as Adam advanced on him. He fell back against the wall, wringing his hat in his hands.
“I never meant to hurt the little fellow, Mr. Harrington. I didn’t know it was him—I swear, I didn’t know.”
Adam’s chest heaved, and he stopped short. “What the hell happened?”
“Your father—he said to shoot. Said he’d fire me if I let one more piece of Harrington equipment get damaged.”
Adam’s breath caught. “It was Kip? He vandalized the work site?”
“Yes, sir. I guess it was him doing it all along.” He shook his head. “Who’d’a thought a kid like him—a kid with everything—would tear up his own father’s business? But I swear to you, Mr. Harrington, I’d have never fired that shot if I’d known—I swear. I tried to take him to the doctor, but he’s bleeding so much I got scared. I brought him here because it was closest.”
Adam cursed again and ran back up the stairs, his bare feet silent on the carpet. He stopped outside the last bedroom. In the dim light, he saw Haley bent over the bed, working. Chrissy and Mrs. Ardmore, in dressing gowns and mobcaps, held extra lanterns, basins of water. Haley’s calm voice bolstered all of them.
Between the hovering women, Adam caught a glimpse of Kip. He lay perfectly still. Frightfully still. Blood was everywhere. Soaking his shirt, streaking his face, seeping into the quilt and linens. On Haley’s hands, the sleeves of her dressing gown. Adam’s stomach heaved. Damn Martin and his armed guards.
He forced himself into the room. “Where the hell is the doctor? What’s taking so long?”
Haley looked up at him as she pressed a fresh bandage against the wound. “It’s his shoulder.”
Adam stopped at the foot of the bed. Kip looked so tiny and fragile, his eyes closed, mumbling incoherently. He wanted to grab him up, hold him tight, take the wound into his own, stronger body and make him well again. “Is he going to be all right?”
“Why don’t you go downstairs and wait for Dr. Mather? Get him up here as soon as he arrives.”
Adam nodded quickly. He knew he was being sent away, but he felt so damn useless just standing around. At least now he’d have something to do. In his room, he pulled on his shoes and a shirt, then hurried downstairs and paced the foyer, smacking his fist into his palm. A few minutes later, when Edward whipped the horses up the drive, Adam yanked Dr. Mather from the carriage and hustled him upstairs.
The bedroom door closed ominously in front of him, blocking out the sight, but only muffling the sounds. The doctor’s deep voice, Haley’s softer one. Adam began pacing again.
Shouts came from the foyer, and footsteps on the stairs brought Martin and Gwen into the hallway. Adam’s hands clenched into fists at the sight of his father.
“What the hell happened?” Martin demanded.
Beside him, Gwen looked pale, afraid. She touched Adam’s arm with her trembling hands. “How is he?”
Adam shook her off, his gaze riveting his father. “One of those damn guards you hired shot him. I told you something like this would happen.”
Martin’s face reddened, and he ground his teeth together. “You’re saying this is my fault?”
“I sure as hell am!”
“I had every right to protect Harrington property!”
Gwen pressed her hand to her forehead. “Kip vandalized the work sites? Kip?”
Adam spared her a glance. “Yes, it was Kip.” His gaze impaled his father once more. “And he was very nearly killed because of it!”
“You wait just a damn minute! I didn’t know—”
“You didn’t try to find out!”
“Don’t preach to me! This isn’t my fault! I—”
The bedroom door opened, and Haley stepped into the hall, glaring her disapproval at the two men going at each other. They fell silent at the sight of Kip’s blood on her hands as she wiped them with a linen towel.
Gwen pressed her palm against the wall, steadying herself. “What is the doctor doing? Is Kip going to be all right? What’s happening in there?”
Haley raked her gaze over the three of them. “I don’t know, but this certainly isn’t helping anything. The doctor will be out as soon as he knows something.”
Gwen wrapped both her arms across her middle and turned away. Adam and Martin glared at each other, then paced in separate directions. Haley waited beside the door, feeling more needed here as referee than inside, assisting the doctor, Chrissy and Mrs. Ardmore had the situation in hand.
Minutes dragged by in tense silence. Neither Adam nor Martin spoke; they just paced, avoiding each other. Haley had expected such a reaction from the two of them, men accustomed to controlling every aspect of their lives, now helplessly unable to control something so vital. But she hadn’t expected Gwen to look so troubled, so lost in the depths of worry. Maybe Kip meant more to Gwen than she’d realized.
The foyer clock chimed the hour, the tolling faint below them. Bernard brought up coffee, but the tray sat untouched. Time crept slowly in the silent house until finally the bedroom door opened and the doctor stepped into the hallway. Everyone surged forward.
Dr. Mather held up his hands, silencing their questions. “It doesn’t appear to be serious.”
“Oh, thank God.” Gwen bit into her knuckles and turned away.
“But time will tell. He needs rest. Lots of rest.” Dr. Mather turned to Adam. “I don’t want him moved. He’ll have to stay here.”
“Of course. Is he awake? Can I see him?”
Martin stepped forward. “I want to see him.”
Dr. Mather adjusted his glasses. “The boy’s awake, but the only person he wants to talk to is Haley.”
Martin glared at her. “Her?”
“Why not her?” Adam demanded. “She’s shown him more kindness than you have.”
“Like hell she has.”
Gwen gulped. “Please, Dr. Mather, I have to see him.”
“Quiet down, all three of you.” Dr. Mather shook his head in disgust. “I’m sure not letting any of you in there, snipping at each other like this. The boy wants to see Haley, and that’s who he’s seeing. Now, keep it quiet out here.”
Aware of the hot stares on her back, Haley followed the doctor into the bedroom. Chrissy and Mrs. Ardmore left.
Kip lay beneath the stained sheet, wrapped in white gauze, his bare chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
“I’ve given him something to make him sleep. He’ll be out in a few minutes.” Dr. Mather turned to the bedside table and began packing his equipment into his bag.
Haley sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and slid her hand over Kip’s. His eyes opened; soft light from the lantern darkened the circles under his eyes.
“You gave us quite a scare.” Haley brushed back the hair from his forehead. “But you’re safe now. We’re going to take good care of you. You’ll be home in no time.”
Big tears pooled in his eyes, and he shook his head frantically. “No, no! Don’t make me go home. Father will be so mad at me.”
Haley glanced over her shoulder at the faces of Adam, Martin and Gwen, staring in from the hallway. She wiped away a tear as it rolled down Kip’s cheek.
“No one is mad at you. We just want you to get well.”
“It was me.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I was the one tearing up Father’s work things.”
“That doesn’t matter now, Kip.”
He looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Don’t make me go home. I want to stay here. With you.”
“But, Kip, your family wants you.”
“They hate me.” Tears flooded his cheeks. “All of them. They all hate me.”
Stunned, Haley gasped. “No, they don’t.”
He drew in a ragged breath, sobbing. “Yes, they do. It was my fault. She died on account of me.”
A moment passed before Haley realized what he meant. “Do you mean your mother?”
“I caused it, and they all hate me. They’ve always hated me.” Racking sobs shook his small body. “It’s my fault.”
“Oh, Kip…” Haley tucked his hand tight in hers and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his forehead. Her heart ached.
She held him until his pitiful tears stopped and he fell asleep. Slowly she rose and looked at Dr. Mather who was standing in the corner. He shook his head and followed Haley into the hallway.
Martin shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away. Gwen pressed her hand to her forehead and swayed against the wall.
Adam gazed helplessly at Haley. “How could he think that? How could he believe we blame him?”
Haley shook her head. Adam turned to Dr. Mather, but he had no answer, either.
“Who knows what the boy was thinking?” Martin grumbled. “Hell, why was he vandalizing our work sites?”
Adam turned on him. “Maybe if you’d paid some attention to him, we’d know.”
Martin’s jaw tightened. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if you’d acted like his father, none of this would have happened.”
“You’re not blaming this on me!” Martin’s fist clenched. “You’re the one filling his head with promises to get him out of trouble at school! You should have kept your nose out of it!”
“Somebody had to do something!”
“And look where it got him!”
“If you hadn’t been so bullheaded and hired armed guards—”
“I wasn’t going to stand by and let—”
“Shut up!” Gwen pushed herself between the two of them. “Shut up!”
Stunned, Adam stepped back. Gwen rounded on Martin and struck him across the chest with her forearm..
“This is your fault! Nobody’s but yours!” Hot tears flowed down her cheeks. “You think you’re so smart. You think you know everything, that you can control everyone’s life. Well, look what you’ve done now! Gotten another one of us killed!”
Silence fell in the hallway. The color drained from Martin’s face.
“Mother died because of you! Peter wasn’t good enough, you said. You bought him off. Sent him away, so I couldn’t see him.”
“You were sixteen years old. You didn’t know what you wanted.” Martin waved away her words with his hand.
“I loved him! And he loved me!”
The lines of his face were hard. “The boy took the money. How much do you think he really loved you?”
“He didn’t know about the baby!” Sobs shook Gwen’s whole body. “I hadn’t told him. He’d have stayed, if he’d known.”
“I did what was best for you.”
“No. You did what was best for you. The great Martin Harrington wouldn’t lose his first grandchild. You wanted everything—and you didn’t care how many lives you destroyed getting it!”
Adam grasped Gwen’s arm and turned her toward him, his face ashen. “What are you saying?”
Tears poured down her face, choking off words.
Adam looked at his father. “Martin?”
Jaw set, he stared at them both and squared his shoulders, but didn’t answer.
Frustrated, Adam shook Gwen. “What happened?”
She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “He told everyone Mother was pregnant. But it was me. He sent us away so no one would know the truth.”
Adam swallowed hard. “Kip? Kip is…”
“Mine!” Gwen swayed against his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. “He’s mine…my baby.”
“All these years?” Adam held her away from him, searching her face. “All these years you’ve pretended differently? You’ve lived under the same roof, watched him grow up, and never acknowledged he was your child?”
Gwen fell against him, sobbing harder.
Adam locked her protectively in his arms and pivoted to face Martin, his gaze demanding an explanation.
Undaunted, Martin held his stance rigid. “When your mother died in that fire, it was too late to change our story. Everyone already thought she was carrying the child, not Gwen. The fact that she died changed nothing.”
Disgust and revulsion roiled through Adam. “You bastard…”
Dr. Mather stepped between the two men. “She needs to lie down.”
His gaze locked on Martin, Adam didn’t respond.
Haley touched his shoulder. “Adam?”
A long moment passed before he looked down at her, raw emotion showing in the taut lines of his face.
She closed her hand around his arm; his muscles were coiled tight. “Help your sister,” she said softly. “She needs to lie down.”
Dumbly he looked at Gwen in his arms, then nodded. Haley held Adam’s elbow, and they all walked down the hallway together.
Dr. Mather gave Gwen a sedative, and Adam sat beside her on the bed, holding her hand while she cried, until she finally fell asleep. He rose, looking numb and dazed, and walked blindly into the hallway. Haley followed, relieved to see that Martin was gone.
She went down to the foyer with Dr. Mather and listened to his instructions for both Kip and Gwen, then thanked him. The normally unflappable Dr. Mather—accustomed to witnessing all sorts of family problems—seemed stunned by what he’d seen and heard tonight.
Haley found the servants gathered in the kitchen and explained Kip’s condition; about Gwen she told them only that she had been overcome with worry. Chrissy and Mrs. Ardmore followed Haley upstairs, to watch over them both until the nurses Dr. Mather had promised arrived later in the morning.
Haley went into her own room, swamped by fatigue, wishing for Adam’s strong arms around her. But she didn’t know where he was, or if she should try to find him. Maybe he needed time alone.
She pulled back the covers of her unmade bed; her brief time in Adam’s bed seemed days ago, not just hours. Haley sank down on the edge of the mattress, thinking how unappealing the cold bed suddenly seemed.
The connecting door to the sitting room swung open. Outlined in the light behind him, Adam’s big frame filled the opening. Haley came to her feet, resisting the urge to run to him; the thread of their newfound love seemed too fragile to test.
“Come to my bed, Haley.” Adam held out his arms. “Please.”
She rushed to him, and they clung to each other for a long moment. He looked beaten and bruised, emotionally numb.
“Let’s go lie down.”
He nodded, and they went into his room. Adam undressed down to his drawers and rolled into bed. Haley slipped out of her dressing gown, noticing for the first time the bloodstains up the front. Surprised, she realized she still wore Adam’s shirt beneath it. She climbed in beside him, and he pulled her hard against him. They both fell asleep.
Sunlight through the drapes told Haley that she’d slept until late morning. She lifted her head from the hollow of Adam’s shoulder and heard the deep, even rhythm of his breathing. In sleep, he looked content, and it was odd seeing him this way—his big muscles relaxed, his expression peaceful.
The temptation to wake him nagged at her, but Haley didn’t give in to it. A long day lay ahead, and it was good that Adam was resting while he could. She eased out of bed and went into the bathroom.
Haley wrapped the fabric of Adam’s shirt closer, cool now, without the heat of his body against her. She filled the tub and bathed, then swathed herself in a towel and went into her own room.
Chrissy looked up from the bureau drawer. “Oh, Miss Haley, I’m worried as a blue hen over little Kip. You reckon he’s going to be all right?”
“The doctor didn’t seem to think there would be any permanent damage. He’s young and healthy. He should recover.”
Chrissy shook her head. “What do you suppose happened? How come he got shot in the first place?”
Haley turned away and slipped into a fresh dressing gown. This was a question they would hear many times today, she was certain. “It was an accident. He was mistaken for an intruder at the construction site.”
“Poor little fella.” Chrissy pulled a gown from the closet. “That Constance Porter lady finally showed up. She came by earlier this morning. I didn’t see any sense in waking you up.”
Haley sat down at her vanity. “Where was she yesterday?”
“That telegram didn’t get to her until late, then the train busted, or something. I showed her the gown, though. She said it looked real good.” Chrissy stepped behind her, studying her reflection in the mirror. “I know this isn’t the best time to say so, but that Miss Porter said my stitching looked good as snuff, and not half as dusty. She said for me to come work for her, if I wanted to.”
Haley turned on the bench to face her. “Work for Constance Porter? Really, Chrissy?”
She nodded, her curls bobbing. “She said she’d teach me everything there was to know about seamstressing. Don’t get me wrong now, Miss Haley. I like it here, and all. But, well, I wouldn’t mind making those fancy dresses.”
