Behind His Blue Eyes Read online

  Silence settled around him. No birdsong, no scurrying footfalls through the underbrush, only the faint murmur of the creek in the ravine below. Even the breeze moved unheard through the twisted limbs.

  And Audra thought he had done this? That he had engineered this holocaust simply to force her to sign a right-of-way? He still couldn’t believe it. He might have been at fault in one disaster, but this time, he was innocent. Yet how could he convince her of that? If his actions thus far hadn’t shown her the kind of man he was, or that he cared about her too much to hurt her this way, what good would mere words do?

  He stopped abruptly, his own words circling in his head.

  He cared about her.

  The notion shocked him, instantly sent up his defenses. Of course, he cared about her. He cared about a lot of people. He wasn’t an unfeeling man. But . . .

  He continued walking, his steps kicking up little puffs of ash.

  Audra was different. Nothing like Eunice. She challenged him, amused him, gave him a reason to greet the day with anticipation, rather than dread. She also drove him to distraction. But that didn’t mean anything. Did it?

  He laughed, the mocking sound of it alien in this lifeless place. When had he added liar to his list of sins?

  A noise across the ravine caught his attention. He stopped, head cocked.

  Up high. Somewhere above the sluice. A voice, barely audible over the gentle splashing of the creek. Weeping.

  Relieved to put thoughts of Audra aside, he started down into the ravine.

  * * *

  Audra was beside herself. She and Curtis had knocked on every door, accosted strangers walking by, searched each vacant building. Curtis had even crawled up into the loft of Mr. Driscoll’s barn. Father couldn’t be found anywhere.

  The Rylanders had ridden along Mulberry Creek Road at least a mile past the Brodie house, but had seen no sign of him. The sheriff had searched the deserted buildings up at the old mine, and his son, R.D., who knew several of the younger Chinese laborers, was asking around at the encampment near the rail yards. The only place they hadn’t searched was deep in the canyon where the fire had swept through. But why would Father go there?

  Cleo was missing, too, which gave Audra hope that they were simply out on a stroll. But after several hours with no sign of either of them, she was beginning to fear the worst. And the odd thing was that Cleo’s basket was missing, too. Why would Father take that along?

  Now, after a fruitless morning, the searchers had gathered for lunch in the hotel dining room, although Winnie was too upset to eat. Despite Audra’s assurances, she blamed herself for Father’s disappearance, since he had been left in her care when Audra had gone to talk to Ethan.

  Ethan. What must he be thinking after her accusations? He had been more upset than she had expected him to be—that flash of emotion startling and seemingly heartfelt. In fact, he had actually appeared more hurt than angry, which had surprised her.

  And yet . . . despite the anger, the hurt, the heated rebuttals . . . he still had not answered her question, had he?

  But he wasn’t the issue now. Father was.

  “I don’t know where else to look,” she said, listlessly pushing the food around on her plate.

  “We won’t give up,” Lucinda promised.

  “We’ll find him,” Tait added.

  “He’ll probably come back when he gets hungry,” Yancey offered through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I always do.”

  “I check on him right after you leave,” Winnie said, blinking hard against a fresh onslaught of tears. “He sound asleep. Cleo curled up in her basket, same as always. If I hadn’t gone down to the water closet . . .”

  “You not at fault, Win.” Curtis patted her hand. “We all got to go. ’Specially first thing in the morning.”

  Lucinda cleared her throat. “Tait and I stopped at every house along Mulberry Creek Road. No one had seen a thing. And by the way, Declan,” she added, turning to the sheriff, “Brin put Whit in one of the feed boxes in the stable. I think she was re-creating the church’s live manger scene she had been so enthralled with over Christmas. It’s a wonder she got that milk cow in there with all those squawking chickens. But not to worry,” she rushed on at his look of alarm. “Everyone is fine. I just thought I’d prepare you.” She gave him a look of commiseration. “Edwina is a bit upset.”

  He muttered something under his breath.

  “Heard anything from R.D.?” Tait inquired.

  The sheriff shook his head. “Still at the Chinese camp. But he’d have sent word if he’d heard anything. I rode a ways up the sluice, but no one there had seen Mr. Pearsall, either. After lunch I’ll ride up the burned side.”

  “No need,” Yancey said, grabbing more bread. “Mr. Ethan headed that way earlier.”

  Audra looked at him in surprise. Ethan had joined the search, too? Even with his hands in such poor condition?

  She puzzled over that throughout the rest of the meal, then decided as soon as they finished here, she and Curtis would get another horse from Mr. Driscoll and a saddle for Cricket, then ride up the unburned side of the ravine where the water sluice was. The sheriff had been in a hurry. Perhaps he had missed something.

  Twelve

  Ethan crawled out of the ravine, winded and a bit light-headed. While he caught his breath, he sipped from the canteen and tried to get his bearings.

  He’d walked farther than he thought—almost five miles, if that was the mouth of the sluice he saw through the trees up ahead. Could an old man have hiked all the way up here?

  Surprisingly, other than scorched grass and a charred bush here and there, this side of the ravine was untouched by flames. He realized why when he saw that the ground around the supports was muddy and the boards inside the sluice were damp. Apparently, someone had opened the gate to let in water, and the resulting leakage had kept everything wet enough not to catch fire. Impressive. If he knew who the enterprising fellow was, he’d give him a bonus.

  A voice from the ridge brought his head up. He scanned the slope and saw no one, but did note a narrow game trail slanting up. On it were footprints and bits of mud that might have dropped off a wet shoe. Pearsall’s or someone else’s?

  He capped the canteen and slung the strap over his shoulder. Not knowing what—or who—he would find up there, he checked the load in his Colt as best he could with his bandaged fingers, returned it to the holster, then began to climb.

  More mud on the way up. Drag marks. But not the kind a body might have made. He looked closer, saw the imprint of a weave in the powdery dirt. A basket? At the top, he paused to catch his breath, then followed the trail through brush and tall evergreens until he came to open ground ringed by poplars.

  Pearsall sat on a downed log in the middle of the clearing, a basket at his feet. Ethan recognized it as the one the dog slept in. Before stepping into the clearing, he looked around. Audra’s father appeared to be alone, but Ethan didn’t want to rush in until he was sure what he might find.

  The old fellow was a mess. He wore a nightshirt and untied robe. Both were wet. Mud caked his unlaced boots. There was a bloody scrape on his neck and scratches on the thin, mud-spattered legs showing beneath the robe. He was crying.

  Ethan stepped into the clearing, his right hand on the butt of his pistol—although with the thick glove and bandages, he didn’t know if he would be able to get his finger through the trigger guard to fire it. “Hello, Mr. Pearsall.”

  The old man looked up, blinking watery eyes in confusion. “Is that you, Richard?”

  “No, sir. It’s Ethan Hardesty.”

  “I don’t know . . . have we met?”

  Warily scanning the trees, Ethan approached. “I know your daughter.”

  Pearsall still looked puzzled.

  “Audra.”

  It was obvious the old man didn’t know who Eth
an was talking about. He doubted the poor fellow even knew where he was, or why he had trekked all the way out here wearing his nightclothes.

  “May I sit down?” When Pearsall didn’t answer, Ethan eased onto the log beside him, his gaze sweeping the clearing once more before swinging back to Audra’s father.

  He looked worse up close. In addition to the wet, muddy clothing and scratches, the old man’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and there was a wild, frightened look in his eyes.

  Saddened, Ethan looked away. Something was deeply wrong in the scheme of things that such a brilliant mind could be reduced to this. But Ethan knew bad things happened to the innocent and guilty alike. He had seen it. Suffered it.

  “Are you here alone?” He eyed the basket. If the little dog was under the blanket, why wasn’t it barking as it usually did?

  “Alone? I don’t . . . there was a man . . .” The words trailed off. The old man looked around, muttering softly to himself.

  Skin prickling, Ethan followed his gaze but saw no one in the trees. “What did he want?”

  “Who?”

  “The man who was here with you.”

  “I don’t . . . I can’t . . .” Palsied fingers plucked at the fabric of the robe. “I need Mary. She’ll know what to do.”

  “About what?”

  “I d-don’t know. Cleo. I think something’s wrong with Cleo. She wouldn’t wake up this morning. I think . . . I think . . .”

  “May I look?” Ethan reached for the blanket in the basket.

  “Mary will know. Why isn’t she here? We should ask Mary.”

  Ethan lifted the blanket. The dog was curled tight as if asleep. But the cloudy eyes were open and there was a stillness that told Ethan she was dead. He eased the blanket back over the small form.

  “Is she gone, Richard? Is my Cleo gone?”

  Ethan nodded. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  New tears rose in the faded eyes. “She was a good dog. Barked a lot. But she . . .” He moved restlessly. “Where’s Mary? I have to tell Mary.”

  The afternoon breeze kicked up, making the poplar leaves murmur like cascading water. When Ethan saw Pearsall shiver, he took off his jacket and draped it over the old man’s bony shoulders. “We should go back now.”

  “Back?”

  “To town.”

  “Baltimore? What about Cleo?”

  “I think she should stay here.”

  “But . . .” Tears spilled down the wrinkled cheeks.

  “I’ll come back,” Ethan promised. “I’ll take care of her.” With these hands, he wasn’t sure how he could bury the animal, but right now he was more concerned with getting the old man back to his daughter and into dry clothes.

  Pearsall looked up at the ring of trees, smiling despite the tears. “It’s a pretty place, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  “I think she’ll like it here.”

  “I’m sure she will. Here, let me help you up.”

  The old man felt as brittle as dry sticks in his grip. Ethan figured he’d end up carrying him most of the way and regretted he hadn’t brought Renny.

  “You’ve been very kind, Mr. . . .”

  “Hardesty. Watch your step, sir. Hold on to my arm.”

  “Mr. Hardesty. Yes, of course. You’re acquainted with Mary?”

  “Audra.”

  Pearsall stopped and peered up at him. “Who’s Audra?”

  “Your daughter, sir.”

  “Daughter?”

  At a muffled sound, Ethan looked over to see Audra standing in the shadows of the trees, a hand clamped over her mouth. What was she doing here? How had she known where to find them?

  “No.” Mr. Pearsall shook his head. “You must be mistaken.”

  Even from yards away, Ethan could feel her anguish. To have her existence denied by her own father, the man who had been the cornerstone of her whole life, must tear a hole in her heart. He could feel the pain of it, see it in her eyes when she looked at her father, then at him. It unraveled something deep inside him.

  Oblivious, Pearsall shuffled along. “I don’t have a daughter. Do I?”

  “Yes, sir, you do.” Ethan’s gaze never left hers. “And you would be proud of her, I think.”

  For the space of a heartbeat, she went utterly still. Then taking her hand from her mouth, she brushed it across her cheeks, took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. “There you are,” she said with forced cheer. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

  Her father looked up, a smile breaking over his weary face. “Look, it’s Mary. Isn’t she beautiful, Richard?”

  “She is. And stubborn.”

  “Who’s that man behind her?”

  On reflex, Ethan reached for his pistol, then saw Curtis coming up the trail. He was relieved she hadn’t come alone. “That’s Curtis Abraham. Do you remember him?”

  “No. No . . . I . . .”

  “Hidy, Mistuh Percy,” Curtis called as he approached. “You sure enough set us on a merry chase. Yes, suh, you did.”

  Pearsall moved restlessly, his hands plucking at his robe again. “Mary, who are these people? You know I don’t like strangers coming around.”

  Audra stepped forward and put her arms around her father. “We were looking for you. We didn’t know where you were. You shouldn’t leave without telling me.”

  “There, there.” Pearsall pulled out of her embrace and patted her cheek. “No need for tears, old girl. I’m right here. Did you bring Cleo with you?”

  Audra caught Ethan’s warning look and followed his gaze to the basket by the log. Understanding dawned when he shook his head. For a moment, her face twisted in renewed grief, but she collected herself and took her father’s arm. “Come along, dearest. Let’s get you home.”

  “I’m hungry, Mary. Did you bring lunch? I had something . . . a basket . . .”

  “It’s all right,” she said gently, leading him toward the trail. “We’ll get it later.”

  “Don’t go far,” Ethan cautioned her. “Stay where I can see you. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

  As Audra and her father moved into the trees, he motioned Curtis closer. “The dog’s dead,” he said in a voice that wouldn’t carry. “In her basket over there. I don’t want to leave her here, but—”

  “Don’t worry, Mistuh Ethan. I’ll cover her good with rocks ’til I can get back with a shovel. You go on with Miss Audra.”

  “I’d rather we stay together.” Ethan glanced over at the Pearsalls, who were almost out of sight. “Wait there, Audra,” he called, then turned back to Curtis. “Her father mentioned a man. He might have been confused, but I don’t want to take any chances. I’ll wait with them by that big spruce while you take care of the dog. That way I can keep an eye on them and the clearing, too.”

  Curtis looked around, eyes wide in his dark face.

  “Did you walk all the way from town?” Ethan asked, regaining his attention.

  “No, suh. We come on horseback. Cricket, and one Miss Audra borrowed from the livery man. They down yonder by the sluice.”

  Relieved, Ethan patted his shoulder, then winced at the sting in his palms. “Hurry, then. Pearsall’s wet and we need to get him back as soon as we can.”

  It was an ordeal getting the old man down the steep slope. After his long hike that morning, he was so weary his knees kept buckling. But with Curtis holding on to him from behind, and Ethan half-carrying him on his back, they managed to get him down to where the horses were tied.

  Ethan was a little wobbly himself. He passed around the canteen, letting the others drink their fill, then finished off what was left. It helped some, but if he didn’t get food in his belly soon, he’d be as weak as the old man.

  They put Pearsall in front of Curtis on the horse Audra had gotten from Driscoll, and Audra in front of Ethan on
Cricket. She took the reins, which was fine with him—his hands were hurting like a son of a bitch—and let Curtis go ahead, so she could keep an eye on her father.

  To give her more room, Ethan rode on the rear skirt of the saddle, but since the track was all downhill, she was soon leaning back, her shoulder blades brushing against his chest with every lurching step.

  He didn’t mind.

  She wasn’t wearing a bonnet and was small enough that he had a fair view over her head—and down her front. Her hair was silky fine. It tickled his nose, caught in his three-day stubble. It smelled like roses. Long golden-streaked tresses swept down to breasts that swayed and bounced and jiggled with the motion of the horse. Wondrous things, breasts. Hers, especially so.

  But his pleasant musings ended abruptly when he realized she was crying.

  He couldn’t see her face, but he heard the sniffle, saw the quick swipe of a sleeve over her eyes. And he knew Audra.

  Resting a hand on her waist, he leaned down and said in her ear, “He knows you. Somewhere in his heart, he knows you.”

  She didn’t respond with words, but the tension in her spine seemed to ease.

  They rode for a time without speaking. It was that watchful kind of silence that hangs between two people who had last parted on a bad note, and who were unsure of how to proceed. He stood it as long as he could, but being impatient by nature, he spoke first. “Who’s Richard? Your father kept calling me that. Since he was using the man’s first name, I’m assuming the two of you know him well.”

  Ethan hoped she wouldn’t lie to him or try to evade his inquiry. One of the things he appreciated most about Audra was her willingness to go at an issue head-on. Her accusations earlier at the infirmary were proof of that, even though she had been wrong in her assumptions. She might say she abhorred confrontation, but she certainly didn’t shy away from it when something was important to her. But he sensed that if she did lie to him, he would know it. Somehow, in some way he didn’t question or fully understand, he’d just know.