Page 146 of In These Hills

As he recounted what happened, Josephine sipped on the tea and tried to detach herself from the moment. Her head ached, and she reached back and felt a tender knot at the base of her skull, then remembered hitting a table in the kitchen as she’d fallen. She wished she could just curl into a ball and sleep for days, and wake up to find this was all a bad dream.

Just hearing Clay Darden’s name twisted her stomach and stirred a familiar fear. Yet she kept telling herself that he’d been badly burned and couldn’t even stand, much less walk. He could no longer physically harm her. Then again, that’s what she’d believed before.

As Dodge continued speaking, Calla’s arm gradually tightened around her waist and tears slipped down her cheeks. Miss Mary’s eyes brimmed with anger and hurt, her hands clutching the arms of the rocker in a white-knuckled grip.

Finally, Calla pulled Josephine close and kissed her temple. “You are one brave woman, I hope you know that.”

“A man like that should be whipped.” Miss Mary swiped a tear away. “And I’ll be first in line.”

“You’ll have to get behind me,” Dodge said, voice hard.

Josephine leaned forward, her hand going to her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Calla grabbed a bucket from the hearth and made it back just in time. Dodge sat beside her, holding back her hair.

A few moments later, long past embarrassed, Josephine straightened and wiped her face and mouth with a damp rag from Calla, her right hand still cradled in her lap. She tried to move her fingers the slightest bit, but the pain brought lightheadedness. “Do you think Doc Wyatt’s coming soon?”

Calla rose. “I can go fetch him.”

“No.” Dodge stood. “I’ll go. It’s well past midnight.” He kissed the top of Josephine’s head. “Try to rest, if at all possible. I’ll be back as soon as I can. And please, one of you stay with her. Don’t leave her alone.”

“Don’t you worry.” Miss Mary gestured. “I’ll run check on Bethie, then come right back down. She was still asleep on the settee in the library, Jessie right by her, when I last looked.”

He paused at the door. “I’ll check them on my way out.” He looked back at Josephine, and as much as she wanted to trust the hope in his eyes, the weight of her circumstances wouldn’t let her.

After reheating the water in the pitcher, Miss Mary and Calla helped her clean up and change into a nightgown. Her contribution . . . somehow managing to stand. When they finished, she laid down and curled onto her side, smoke still clinging to her hair. With eyes clenched tight, she counted every heartbeat, wishing Dodge would return with Doc Wyatt. Or at least with the laudanum.

He learned obedience from the things he suffered. The words Nannie had spoken wove a path through her pain and tears pooled in her eyes, but she welcomed the moisture after the sting of smoke and flame. All her life, she’d pursued learning, had prided herself on acquiring knowledge, had devoured every book in her father’s library while craving more. So why did she feel more like a student in this moment than ever before?

Finally, footsteps outside the cabin promised the fading hope of relief from pain, and Miss Mary offered her an encouraging smile as she hurried to the door.

“Good evenin’, Miss Mary.”

“Sheriff Rigby.” Miss Mary’s voice held confusion, and a trace of distrust. “What brings you by this time of night?”

“I’m here to speak with Miss Josephine Dunham.”

57

A JOLT OF FEAR SURGED THROUGH HER, and Josephine struggled to sit up, fighting the irrational, futile urge to run. Calla, who’d been working near the hearth, quickly moved to stand in front of her.

“Miss Dunham—” Sheriff Rigby stepped across the threshold, a deputy with him. “I have a few questions I need to—”

Miss Mary blocked his way. “Hold on there, Sheriff. Josephine is in no condition to answer any questions right now. She’s been through a terrible ordeal tonight and needs to rest.”

“Oh, I know what she’s been through. I’ve already spoken with Clay Darden, the man she tried to kill in Atlanta—and then again tonight.”

“I did not try to kill him. He attacked me!”

The sheriff pushed past Miss Mary. “What happened in that alley in Atlanta is not for the two of us to debate, ma’am. You can do that when you appear back there before the judge.” He nodded at his deputy who pulled handcuffs from his back pocket. “Miss Josephine Dunham,” the sheriff continued, “you’re under arrest by order of the State of Georgia for the crime of attempted murder. Don’t give us any trouble, ma’am, and maybe we won’t have to—”

“Don’t you go near her, Rigby!” Dodge shoved past the deputy, and Mr. Daniel came in behind him.

Mr. Daniel’s gaze connected with Josephine’s and, in a glance, she knew Dodge had told him everything.

“Rigby, you’re not taking her anywhere.” Dodge positioned himself between her and the sheriff. “Clay Darden brutally attacked her tonight in the stillhouse, and he will answer for what he’s done.”

“Coburn, I am sheriff of this town and you’ll do well to remember that. Besides, Clay Darden is the son of the mayor of Atlanta, and I’m inclined to believe him over some wool-gatherin’ woman who’s already proven her word can’t be trusted. The fact that she’s involved with a band of hysterical females back in Atlanta already puts her mental stability into question. Furthermore, according to witnesses who saw you and Miss Dunham earlier tonight, you’re not what I would call an unbiased party when it comes to this woman.”