Another Dawn (14 page)

      
"Don't you?" Mrs. Fleming sighed and turned back toward the door. "I can't imagine anything less powerful than God Himself could've brought you and Father Salazar to us through yesterday's storm."

      
Sofie stared in silence as Mrs. Fleming left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Alone again, a shudder gripped her.

      
She didn't even known these people, yet their deaths touched her. Maybe because she was a doctor, death's impact was more powerful. On the other hand, didn't it make more sense for her to be somewhat accustomed to death? Fear, revulsion, and horror rippled through her.

      
"Enough."

      
She jumped to her feet and grabbed the underwear Mrs. Fleming had brought. One look at the only thing remotely resembling panties jerked Sofie from her maudlin thoughts. She held the garment out before her to examine, noting its length and bloomer-like shape. These were nothing like the skimpy panties she'd removed this morning.

      
But she had no choice. At least these clothes were clean. They'd do for now. After pulling on the bloomers and securing the drawstring at her waist–
don't these people believe in elastic?
–she slipped something that looked like a woven cotton tank top over her head. A chemise, she realized, tucking it into the bloomers.

      
Shaking her head, she went to the mirror to stare at herself. Maybe she couldn't remember what kind of panties were in her dresser drawer at home–wherever home was–but she knew they wouldn't even begin to resemble these.

      
Resigned, she returned for the slip and stepped into it, tying yet another drawstring at her waist. Glancing down, she found what she'd been dreading.

      
Rows of ruffles and flounces edged the cotton slip. A petticoat? Yes, that was the word.

      
"No way."
 
She picked up the gray dress and held it up to the morning light spilling through the lace curtains. If she couldn't see through the dress, she didn't need a slip, let alone a petticoat.

      
Satisfied no one would be able to see through her dress–and even if they did, all they'd find would be her baggy bloomers–Sofie finished dressing. However, she was relieved to discover Mrs. Fleming had failed to bring shoes along with the black wool stockings. At least Sofie knew her hiking boots would fit, and they were comfortable, even if they probably weren't intended to be worn with a dress.

      
And no ruffles.

      
Luke watched Dora move around the kitchen preparing breakfast, her generous backside bumping into everything in her path of destruction. She placed thick slabs of bacon in an iron skillet, and the savory aroma soon filled the room.

      
He closed his eyes as a pang of remembrance stabbed through him. His grandmother had prepared bacon almost every morning, until Grandpa's doctor had put them on low fat diets. Luke's childhood memories were filled with the scents and sounds of his grandparents' old house near Capital Hill, and the shoe repair shop his grandfather had owned in an historic part of downtown Denver.

      
Blinking several times, he cleared his throat and rose from his seat at the round table near the back door. The few hours he'd slept had been fraught with nightmares of running for his life until he couldn't take another step. And the ending was always the same.

      
The electric chair.

      
After thrashing around until he'd awakened drenched with perspiration, he abandoned all hope of real rest. Besides, since he'd been trying to sleep in the front room with the patients, he'd heard Dr. Wilson informing more than one family that their loved ones had died during the night. That dedicated man never seemed to sleep.

      
Father Salazar had done his duty, performing last rites for one young man, while praying over half a dozen who were beyond that. Luke was repaying the dead priest's kindness to him with interest.

      
No, not really. Father Salazar had believed in Luke's innocence, and nothing could repay that.

      
"Careful you don't break the yolks this time, Dora," Mrs. Fleming said as she came back through the kitchen door.

      
She paused and shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Oh, Father, I just can't believe we lost so many more patients in one night."

      
"Yeah, I know."
 
Luke reached up to rake his fingers through his non-existent hair, grimacing from the pain of his fried scalp instead. What the hell was he doing here?

      
Then the door opened to the room off the kitchen and Sofie paused in the doorway, staring at him. She looked beautiful. Luke's breath froze as his gaze drifted down the length of her and back again. Shiny black hair curled in spirals around her small face, and her eyes seemed even larger and bluer than–

      
The bruise on her temple had spread, and now included half her face, including one eye. Regret slashed through him, as he remembered those blue eyes looking up at him yesterday, begging for help.
 

      
He'd almost left her to die.

      
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he remembered that he was free, that they were stranded together in another century, and that she had no memory of the past. She was lost, while he was celebrating a new beginning. He had no regrets about helping her. Not anymore.

      
"You look lovely," he said, reminding himself that they all considered him a priest, regardless of his thoughts and desires. "I hope you slept well."
 
In his mind, he saw her asleep last night with her full, firm breast half-exposed to his gaze. The mental image knifed through him.

      
Straight to his groin.

      
"Yes," she said, still staring at him. "I...for a moment, I..."

      
"Are you all right, Sofie?" Mrs. Fleming went to her side and took her arm. "You aren't dizzy, are you? Dr. Wilson said to watch for that."

      
"No, I just..."
 
Her gaze riveted to Luke, she slowly shook her head. "Nothing. It couldn't be. For a moment, I thought I remembered something."

      
His heart hammered his ribs and he held his breath.
God, please don't let her remember. At least, not yet
. Luke managed a weak smile and, finally, a breath. "Maybe your memory will come back a little at a time," he said, though in truth he hoped she never remembered everything. That made him selfish and small, but there it was.

      
"Maybe."
 
Sofie visibly shook herself and dragged her gaze
 
from Luke. "Dora, thank you for lending me this dress. I'll return it after I've washed my own clothes."

      
Mrs. Fleming made a sound of open disapproval. "Sofie,
 
those rags–"

      
"Are all I have of my own," Sofie said. "You've been very kind, Mrs. Fleming, but I hope to regain my memory and my life as soon as possible. I don't wish to be a burden to anyone."
 
She shrugged and sighed. "I'm not even sure where we are."

      
"High in the Rocky Mountains," Luke said, trying not to remember the day Warden Graham and company had escorted him up to the new facility. "Somewhere near the continental divide, I think."

      
"Redemption is part of the Cripple Creek Mining District," Dora said, lifting pieces of bacon from the skillet with a fork. "So the Miners here stake their claims and such over to Cripple Creek. Assayer is there, too."
 

      
"A city of sin."
 
Mrs. Fleming filled a plate with bacon and steaming biscuits, then held it while Dora ladled out a hefty serving of eggs. "I'll just take this out to Dr. Wilson, and stand there until he eats every bite."

      
Luke tried not to look at Sofie. She seemed so vulnerable in the oversized gray dress. It swallowed her, made her appear even smaller and more fragile than before. Then he noticed her worn leather hiking boots peeking out from beneath the long dress, and he smiled. Really smiled.

      
"Cripple Creek," Sofie said. "I wonder why that sounds familiar."

      
Was she from that infamous mountain town? But most people knew about Cripple Creek, even if they'd never been there. The tune to "Up on Cripple Creek" raced through Luke's mind. Of course it sounded famliar to her.

      
In fact, he remembered visiting the historic mining town with his grandparents the summer he turned twelve. He'd found the old buildings and living history fascinating then, but the stories of huge gold strikes had been more than compelling. Age appropriate, no doubt.

      
But even at twenty-nine, Luke's palms turned sweaty and his heart rate surged. Could he walk into the mountains now and stake a claim? Might he find a fortune in gold lying just beneath the earth's surface?

      
Did it matter? Would it change anything?

      
No, freedom and life were more important. He sighed. Money was merely a means to an end. Of course, train tickets would cost money, and the few dollars in Father Salazar's wallet wouldn't take him far. And he should make sure Sofie had some money, too. Then he remembered that all currency carried a date.

      
The Denver Mint would have a fit.

      
Luke caught himself smiling again. That was twice in one morning.

      
He looked at Sofie as she set plates and silverware on the table. She was so quiet. Why? Was she trying to remember something?

      
Like seeing him in the electric chair?

      
The back door opened and Ab shuffled inside, wiping his feet on the mat. "Mornin'," he muttered.

      
"You're just in time for breakfast, Ab," Dora called over her shoulder, broadcasting a brilliant smile. "As usual."

      
"Mornin', Miss Dora. Mrs. Fleming."
 
Ab blushed and ducked his head. "Dr. Wilson said he reckons he'll be tied up all day, but to send for him if need be."
 
The short, stocky man looked at Sofie and his face reddened even more beneath his beard. "He said for Miss Dr. Sofie to handle things here until he finishes out at Zeke's place."

      
"Miss Dr. Sofie?" Mrs. Fleming looked at Sofie and smiled. "I'm going out there now. What shall I tell him?" The woman tied a cape beneath her chin, then lifted the heavy tray. "Can you handle things by yourself for a while?"

      
Sofie's face paled and her hand trembled as she brought it to her cheek. "Tell him that's fine," she said, though her eyes revealed her uncertainty.

      
"Very well."
 
Mrs. Fleming nodded in open approval. "I'll be back a little later. Dora, show Sofie where everything is if she has questions."

      
"Yes, Mother."

      
"Frank Latimer was first in line for his inoculation," Ab offered, his tone reserved.
 

      
"What?" Mrs. Fleming looked back, her eyes wide. "That horrible man?"

      
"Come for his rightful share of the serum, he said."
 
Ab shrugged.

      
Mrs. Fleming's nostrils flared and she squared her shoulders. "The world would be better off if he'd died and his brother's widow had been spared."

      
Confused, Luke looked around the room, trying to digest all the names and information. Frank Latimer was obviously not well- liked.

      
"That reminds me, Sofie, I almost forgot that we need to talk to Jenny this morning," Mrs. Fleming said. "I'll come back after–"

      
"Latimer was askin' about the girl, too," Ab said, looking downward as he spoke. "Said he'd raise his kin."