Under the Desert Sky (18 page)

Phoebe sat up and wrapped her arms around Christian, holding him to her as she permitted herself to cry.

•  •  •

Christian climbed the stairs. When he walked by Will's room, he opened the door and walked over to the sleeping child. When he'd started the conversation with Phoebe, he thought he'd tell her about the child of the streets that he'd been, but he couldn't get the words out.

He felt the small scar on his face, remembering the night he woke to find a rat gnawing on his cheek. Phoebe said he'd had opportunities. Yes, he'd had opportunities—opportunities to find scraps of food that others had found unfit to eat, opportunities to pilfer and steal. All of this, he learned when he was little more than Will's age.

Even though Christian had never met Edwin Sloan, he disliked the man intensely. If he understood what Phoebe had said this evening, her husband had turned his back on her and Will because of money.

How could any man do that? Phoebe was fascinating, and Will was entertaining. Christian had seen extreme poverty and extreme wealth. In both situations, Christian had never overcome the feeling of being alone. Being here with Phoebe and Will had made him feel as if he could belong to their family.

Christian bent down and kissed Will on the top of his head. The boy shifted positions in his sleep, and Christian stepped back, not wanting to awaken him.

Tonight, he'd asked Phoebe for permission to court her, and he meant it. But he'd do more than court her. He'd do all that he could to convince her he loved her.

Then, unbidden, the thought of Ina Claire Woodson popped into his mind. Was he being unfair to her? He and Ina Claire had never spoken of love, had never expressed anything more than friendship for each other. But they had brought comfort to one another during that long, terrible siege.

Memories of the war and those times at Kimberley came flooding back to him.

•  •  •

“Ina Claire, you shouldn't be out of the shellproof.”

“Why not? We're all going to die anyway. Either we starve to death, or we get hit by the Boers' big gun.”

“You can't give up, not now. We've been here 117 days—the column has to relieve us soon.”

“I don't believe the military will ever come. Papa says the shells from their new gun weigh a hundred pounds,” Ina Claire said. “Long Cecil can't compete with that.”

Long Cecil was the gun that the American engineer George Labram and Ina Claire's father had built, to compete with the heavy siege guns being used by the Boers. The gun was named after Cecil Rhodes.

“You're right, Long Cecil's shells are about a fourth as powerful, but that's not to say he is useless,” Christian said. “Think where we were before we had it.”

“I know. Papa's just sorry Mama and I didn't go back to America when Mrs. Labram left.”

Christian reached out for Ina Claire's hand. “For my sake, I'm glad you didn't. We would never have met had you gone back to Albany. Come on. What do you say we get something to eat before the soup is all gone?”

When they reached the soup kitchen at the De Beers convicts' station, Christian and Ina Claire took their place in one of the never-ending lines. About forty thousand people had to be fed, including about ten thousand indigenous Zulus and Hottentots who, before the siege, had been working in the diamond mines. Now Rhodes had put them to work repairing the damaged streets.

The daily rations were down to a cup of tea for breakfast and for dinner, a soup made with horse flesh, and wizened carrots that looked like corks. Occasionally, a few mangel-wurzels were added, but the extreme heat of the Karoo summer caused the beets to shrivel in the ground. The Boers had cut the water from the reservoir, so the only water came from the seepage in the mines. If anyone was caught watering a garden, the imposed martial law—or Military Situation, as it was called by the civilians—withheld that person's meager rations.

Before Ina Claire and Christian got their tin cups filled with soup, a loud boom sounded. The bugler in the conning tower began to blow the warning, having seen the smoke from the great gun on Kamfers Dam.

Seventeen seconds. That was all the time Christian and Ina Claire had to find shelter, so they ducked into one of the nearby tunnels that had been built in the debris taken from the mines.

The incoming shell sounded like an empty and disconnected railway car rolling down the track. There was no whistle, just a rushing sound, and then the big shell hit with a loud thump.

“Where do you think it hit?” Ina Claire asked.

“I think out in the road somewhere. If it hit a building, I think we would've heard it collapse.”

“Yes, that's probably right. But it's so frightening.”

Christian drew Ina Claire to him and held her close until they heard no more explosions.

•  •  •

Christian pinched the bridge of his nose to make the memories go away. He wasn't being unfair to Ina Claire, he knew he wasn't. They had shared a genuine camaraderie, but no words of affection had ever been spoken.

•  •  •

Christian stayed with Phoebe for an entire month.She laughed when he and Will attempted to cook or clean or wash clothes, but they did whatever had to be done, letting her rest and recuperate. The dizzy spells still occurred, but were definitely subsiding, and the few that she'd had were much less severe. Even the bruises had faded.

One day, Christian announced it'd be a good time for Phoebe to go to town to see the doctor.

“I want to go, too.” Will hurried to put on his shoes.

“Not today,” Christian said. “This is going to be a day for your mama and me.”

“But I want to go,” Will whined.

“Miss Gwen said you could spend the day with the girls,” Christian said. “I think she told me that Hannah has a new pony and they want you to go for a ride. Maybe they'll even have a picnic.”

“I'd like that,” Will said with enthusiasm. He and Christian went to the shed to get the buggy.

Fifteen minutes later Christian and Will brought the buggy around. Christian helped Phoebe in, then disappeared into the house, returning with a small bundle that he laid on the seat.

“What's that?” Phoebe asked.

Will covered his mouth with his hand as he began to giggle.

“Shhhhh,” Christian said as he climbed in. “It's a surprise. Don't tell her, Will.”

“I don't like secrets,” Phoebe said.

“You'll like this one,” Christian said. “I know you will.”

Releasing the brake, Christian made a clicking sound as he snapped the reins, and the horse started out at a leisurely trot. Will entertained them by singing one song after another. He surprised them both by singing a folk song that July had taught him.

Baphina obaba

Ba semazalwini

Basitshiyel' indubeko

Indubeko zomhlaba

“Do you know what the words mean?” Christian asked.

“No, I like made-up words,” Will said.

“Those aren't made-up words. When July was little, he didn't know how to speak English at all, and this is how he talked.”

“Do you know what the words mean?” Phoebe asked.

“I do.”

“So what are they?”

“I'm sure he taught it to Will for a reason. It says:

‘Where are those fathers?

They are in heaven.

They left us problems.

These earthly difficulties.' ”

“Not a very joyful song,” Phoebe said. “Will, why don't you sing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb'?”

The rest of the trip went quickly and they were soon pulling into the Prinsens' lane.

“Can I tell her now?” Will asked excitedly as Gwen came out to meet the buggy.

“You mean she doesn't know?” Gwen asked.

“No, Wet wouldn't tell her.”

“All of you certainly have my curiosity up. What's this about?” Phoebe asked.

“Gwen told me you haven't had a free day since you came to Arizona, and she thought it was a good idea for us to go up to the hot springs.”

“I can't do that.” A frown crossed Phoebe's face. “Who will take care of Will?”

“The same person who took care of him the night you stayed with Dr. Evans,” Gwen said. “Don't worry about him. Just go and have a good time.”

“The night? Christian, we're not going to spend the night, are we?”

“If we go, we will. We'll take the train up to Hot Springs Junction, and then we'll catch the stage for Castle Hot Springs.”

“But we can't do that,” Phoebe sputtered. “What would—”

“The Sloans think?” Gwen finished.

“Yes, they think I'm terrible as it is. What would happen if they found out about this?”

“Phoebe, Castle Hot Springs is a resort. It won't be just you and Christian there,” Gwen said. “You deserve the time away. Think of it as a little vacation.”

“I didn't bring any clothes.”

“The Chicago Store is having a big sale. Have Christian take you there and you can pick out something that you want.”

“I can't afford a new dress.”

“But I can,” Christian said. “Think of it as rent money if you must. I sleep in your bed and I eat your food.”

Gwen's eyes rose when she heard Christian's comment.

Christian chuckled. “That didn't come out the way I meant it. I sleep in a bed that Phoebe owns.”

“Oh, that's better,” Gwen said. “Will, kiss your mama good-bye, and then you two better get going or you'll miss the train. Did you bring him any clothes?”

Will kissed his mother, and then Gwen helped him out of the buggy.

“You be a good boy and make certain you save us some cookies that I know you'll bake. We'll see you tomorrow.” Christian said, handing the package containing Will's clothes to Gwen.

11

“I
feel strange riding off without him,” Phoebe said when they were about a hundred yards away.

“You know he'll have fun. Will seems to like the Bucknells.”

“It's just that I have a premonition. Something's going to happen.”

“Don't think like that. I want you to enjoy this day.”

Phoebe rode in silence for a while, deep in thought.

“I've been thinking about the song July taught Will. Is that really the meaning of the words?”

“I think so,” Christian said. “I may be off. The first verse is about going over the Limpopo River to work in the gold fields in search of money, but I believe this is the second verse.”

“ ‘They left us problems—these earthly difficulties.' ” Phoebe's voice quavered. “That certainly is a truism where Edwin is concerned.”

“I don't know why you let those people bother you so much. Just live your own life.”

Phoebe looked down at her hands and began to pick at her nails. “They think I killed Edwin.”

“I thought he was killed by an ostrich.”

Phoebe jerked her head toward Christian. “You know that and you didn't say anything?”

“I thought it was an accident—just like when the horse kicked you.”

“It was more than that.”

Christian was surprised by Phoebe's remark and wasn't sure how to respond. For a long moment the break in their conversation was filled only by the sound of the hoofbeats and the whir of buggy wheels.

Then Phoebe said, “You said the other morning you saw me sitting beside Edwin's grave. And I believe my response was that I find comfort in visiting Edwin and I tell him everything. That's not entirely true.”

“Oh?”

“Well, in a way it's true. I find it's much easier to talk to him now than it was when he was alive. I think I should tell you how it was between me and Edwin.”

Christian reached over to take Phoebe's hand in hers. “Phoebe, you don't have to tell me anything, especially if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I want to tell you,” Phoebe said resolutely. “Everything is buried so deep inside of me, I need to get it out.”

“All right. I'll be a good listener.”

“I came to Arizona to be the Sloans' housekeeper. I thought I knew how to keep a house, but nothing satisfied Mrs. Sloan. Whatever I did wasn't right, but that wasn't the hardest part. It was the way I was treated as a person. Other than to demand I do some task, they totally ignored me. They spoke to one another in my presence as if I weren't there.

“Edwin was the only one who showed any kindness toward me at all; then on the night of Frank and Myra's engagement party, Frank”—she paused for a moment to come up with the right words—“tried to take liberties with me. I was startled, and I spilled the coffee on Mrs. Sloan's fine damask cloth. She got very angry with me, and of course I couldn't explain what had happened. When, finally, my work was done, I took to my bed to cry. A little while later, Edwin came to my room.”

“He forced himself on you?”

“No, I can't say that. As I said, Edwin was the only one who was ever decent toward me, so when he came to my room, the situation got out of hand. I know it was foolish, and had I said no, he would've left, but I actually felt I owed him something. So I didn't resist.”

Other books

Close Your Eyes by Robotham, Michael
The Devil's Pitchfork by Mark Terry
Tartarín de Tarascón by Alphonse Daudet
Still Candy Shopping by Kiki Swinson
There Is No Light in Darkness by Claire Contreras
Alien Slave by Tracy St.John
I Sleep in Hitler's Room by Tuvia Tenenbom
Spaghetti Westerns by Hughes, Howard
Vanishing Act by Barbara Block