LITMIR.BIZ

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from his pocket and placed over half of it in Connor’s hand. “It’ll keep her for a little while, anyway. Maybe she can find a place to stay. Or a job somewhere.”

      Connor laughed harshly. “Who’d hire a woman who’s having a child without benefit of a husband?”

      “Hell, I don’t know,” James said impatiently.

      Connor turned away, holding the blood money his brother had given him, and headed for the house. His mother was crying in the kitchen over James departure. At least she had been half an hour ago, when her favorite son had walked out the door, saddlebags in his hands. He’d see if she was calmer now, ready to talk. And he’d think seriously about filling her in on the situation in which he found himself.

      “I’ll kill Connor Webster for getting you in this fix,” Alger Peterson said loudly, his voice ringing throughout the dining room and probably resounding from the parlor ceiling.

      “That won’t do a bit of good, Daddy,” she said calmly. “Connor isn’t the father.”

      Alger looked stunned, his mouth falling open at her announcement. It was almost as much a surprise as her first declaration, a whispered notice that he would be a grandfather before the year was out.

      Not that her father was averse to the title of grandfather, but he’d expected it to be part of her marriage. He’d given his blessing to her betrothal, and welcomed Connor into the Peterson household as an honored guest.

      “Connor isn’t the father?” Alger’s eyes widened as if he’d been observer to an unbelievable sight. “What are you talking about? Of course he’s the father. He’s responsible for it.”

      “No, Daddy,” she repeated. “He’s not.”

      “Well then, who is?” her mother asked. Silent up until now, Minnie Peterson was nonetheless a woman who always managed to speak her mind. “Whoever it is, he’d better march over to the parsonage and take you along. There won’t be a church wedding, young lady, but there will be a wedding.”

      “You’re both wrong,” Loris said quietly. “I’m no longer engaged to Connor, and it will be official when I give him back his ring. The other person in this situation has already left town, and I won’t be marrying him either.”

      “Left town?” Her father blustered loudly as he marched around the table and gripped her shoulders. Dragging her to her feet, he shook her, then apparently decided that action was not sufficient to express his anger and so delivered two ringing slaps to her face.

      Loris stood silently before him, her eyes closed. She could not bear to look on his face, could not abide the disdain he showered on her. Her cheeks stung from his blows, but compared to the painful disgrace she had brought upon her family, the pain was of little importance.

      “You can pack your things and move out,” her father said bluntly. “You are no longer our daughter.”

      “Mama?” Loris turned to Minnie and spoke the title as if it were an entreaty for mercy. As indeed it was.

      “Your father is the head of this house,” Minnie said primly. Even if she’d wanted to side with her daughter, Loris knew that her mother shared Alger’s views on such things as family honor.

      “All right. I’ve got my things packed in the tapestry valise, Mama. I knew this would happen. When I’m settled somewhere, I’ll send it back to you.”

      “You can keep it,” Minnie said. “I couldn’t look at it again.”

      Loris left the dining room, walked up the stairs slowly and entered her room. She was cold, not due to the weather outdoors, but instead to a chill that seemed to emanate from deep inside her body.

      Her warmest clothing was on the bed, a pair of men’s long red underwear she’d been given by her father when they shrank in the wash, becoming too small for him. Before this, she’d only worn them when she went to the river to ice skate in the winter time. Tonight, they would keep her from freezing to death. She didn’t plan on forcing her parents to buy a coffin for her, so it would behoove her to start out walking with enough clothing on to keep warm.

      By the time she’d found her heaviest woolen shirt, donning it over her dress, and then pulling her heavy leather boots on her feet, she was breathless from the exertion of preparing to leave. Or maybe it was just the prelude to a fit of crying that seemed to be imminent.

      Valise in her hand, she walked down the stairs and saw her mother awaiting her in the wide hallway. “Here are your mittens and a warm scarf,” Minnie said. “I have no use for them. You may as well take them with you.”

      It was a backhanded gesture of kindness, and though hurt by her mother’s words, Loris offered her thanks.

      “Let us know where you are,” Minnie said.

      “Will you really care?” Loris asked, and then bit at her lip. There was no point in estranging her mother from her any more than she already had with her announcement.

      “Yes, I’ll care, Loris,” her mother said righteously, pressing a bundle into her hands. “Here’s enough food to keep you going for a day or so.” Minnie touched her daughter’s shoulder as a gesture of farewell and spoke again. “Just wait until your child is grown and you are hurt by that child beyond measure. You’ll find that you still care.”

      “Maybe.” Loris pulled her mittens on, knowing she would be thankful for their warmth, and wrapped the scarf around her neck. The front door opened and she stepped out onto the porch. The sun had set, the moon had risen, and the night was clear and cold. Stars glittered in profusion across the sky, but they blurred as she walked down the steps and made her way toward the street, her falling tears blinding her.

      Yet, she cried but little, for she forced herself to blink them away, knowing she didn’t have enough energy to waste on feeling sorry for herself. She struck off for the western edge of town, since it was closer to the shelter she sought than walking through the business district. Taking that route raised her chances of meeting someone she knew.

      The road was rutted, so she chose instead to walk on the grass at the side, now overlaid with a light covering of new snow. At least her boots would keep her feet from freezing, she thought, shifting the valise to her other hand. It was heavy, but she’d brought everything warm she owned. And then topped off the contents with a quilt that seemed to be an intelligent addition to her collection. It would keep the wind from her, should she decide to wrap it around herself.

      For a moment, she wondered just where she would be when she unfolded the quilt and curled in its folds. Maybe in someone’s barn. Although the scent of fresh hay in a barn turned her stomach these days. Had, in fact, for three months, ever since the evening James Webster had pressed her deeply into a bed of the fragrant stuff in her father’s extra stall. As if it had never happened, James had ignored her for weeks, while her own guilt had nagged at her, as she continued her discreet courtship with Connor.

      She’d been a fool. And not for the first time, she cursed the dance she’d shared with James, the kisses he’d offered, the bedding he’d instigated with her full cooperation.

      She passed the edge of town and paced steadily beside the road. Trees met overhead, their branches bare of leaves, the faint noise of their rubbing together in the wind contributing an eerie sound to the quiet of the evening. Ahead was a farmhouse, one belonging to Joe Benson, a friend of her father’s.

      She skirted it, walking on the other side of the road as she passed by the lane leading to the big house. Being seen would be bad enough. Being recognized would be worse. The valise was heavy and she shifted it again, feeling the muscles in her arm cramp.

      The next two houses were small, lived in by hired help, men and their families hired by the Bensons to help them on the farm. She walked as quickly as she could without stumbling and falling. She couldn’t afford to turn her ankle or twist her knee. It was difficult enough keeping a steady pace while her legs were sound. Making her way in the dark with pain as her companion would

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