Nightchild

Chapter 53

Blythe woke late, feeling refreshed but sluggish, remembering she'd neglected her ritual walk for days and missed being in the open. Feeling a part of the elements had always been a tonic for her. She remembered whimsically that as a child her mother had always found it difficult to contain her indoors no matter how inclement the weather. A poignant smile touched her lips at the fond recollection. Riding had been her only other form of escape and now it would be a long while before she'd be able to bring herself to walk along the path to the stables again, if ever. Yes, she decided, an early morning jaunt would do her good and help clear her head. She was on her way out when the bell chimed and opening the door, Harvey Wickersham greeted her in a slightly flustered manner.

"Miss Blythe, it's you." His eyes quickly dropped to the two dogs standing impatiently on either side of him, looking terribly spiffy in new collars attached to shiny chain leashes with matching red leather handles Harvey held awkwardly in large weathered hands.

She followed his gaze. "Why, hello, boys. My, don't you look handsome? What's the occasion?" She dropped down on one knee and rubbed both giant heads playfully, allowing them to lick her face while they nuzzled and sniffed about her hair with cold wet noses.

Harvey waited for her to straighten and give him her full attention again. He was a simple man and had been raised by simple folk who taught him certain ways of behavior, manners that were lost on the newfangled youth. One, you waited for a lady to speak to you and two, a boss was always a boss and don't get confused about it or you wouldn't have your job long. Some people thought he was old-fashioned, but he didn't give a damnation. His ways had suited him fine for fifty-one years and he reckoned they'd go right on without anyone else's approval.

Blythe finally pulled away from the affectionate mutts and wiping her face with the back of a hand, smiled genuinely up at the crusty older man. "Morning, Harvey. The dogs look wonderful."

"Thank you, ma'am. We were hopin' ya'd like 'em...me 'n' Betty that is."

"I love them. You know that."

"Yessum, I do," he said, nodding his head. The brim of the big cowboy hat masking his crinkled eyes as it bobbed up and down.

"Did you need to see Nate about something?" she asked, anxious to get on with her walk. She glanced past him. It was destined to be a beautiful day, sunny and calm after the front that had blown through.

"No...well, I mean, yes...I did, but I already spoke ta him down by the stable. Gawd awmighty, Miss Blythe, I'm sorry as hell 'bout what happened down there." He cast his eyes on the dogs as if they would provide the proper words.

"It's okay, Harvey. There's no need to explain. There are no words. Let's just pray that Rene regains consciousness and can identify the assailant." She was amazed at how easily she was able to talk about it...at her own outward calm. Hopefully, no one would detect the inner turmoil that raged inside if she could master this nonchalant, yet concerned demeanor. As long as she could fool others, perhaps she could fool herself, too.

Mr. Wickersham raised timid eyes. "Well, Mr. Nate...he said he really didn't care...that it was up to you."

Blythe closed the door and stepped onto the veranda. "What's up to me, Harvey?" she asked dubiously.

"The missus an' me ain't been any too crazy 'bout you bein' left out here by yourself...before all this. An' we...well, we felt it was purdy damn headstrong of you not ta let Heathe or Ruby stay out here ta watch over things with your man gone an' all. Not that Mr. Nate can help it if he has business ta take care of. A man does what he's gotta. Now, this horrible tragedy." As men do, Harvey grew bolder with the sound of his own voice and brazenly met her gaze. "Betty wanted me ta come over directly when we heard the news, but I told her it was best ta wait fer the shock the good Lord provides us ta wear off a bit before tryin' ta reason with ya. And for once, she saw I was right.