When
her father fell from grace and his colleagues and superiors chose to believe
the vicious rumors that shredded his reputation, peace of mind, and his health,
Carmen had thought at first Boniface had been behind those false stories; especially
when some of the ugly, unbelievable stories and accusations focused on her.
Then he had showed up like an avenging angel, fighting to defend her father,
mocking those who chose to believe the lies. Even with the taint of disgrace
clinging to Carmen and Reverend Mackenzie, he had still wanted to marry her and
take both of them away to a quiet life in a small congregation waiting for him.
His anger had been tempered with sorrow when Carmen refused him again.
Now...
Carmen
found she could breathe again when Boniface's blue-gray gaze slid off of hers
and he turned to study the other side of the street.
"Nothing,"
he said, his voice colder than the rain.
"Are
you sure you heard it?" the driver asked. In a moment, the steam-cart
carried them both out of sight.
"You
don't hear it, idiot. You feel it. In your bones."
"My
bones are frozen."
Whatever
Boniface said in response was hidden in the drumming rain, the splashing of the
cart's wheels and the rumble-hiss of its engine as they continued down the
street.
Carmen
brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, hiding
her face in her knees as she shuddered. For just a moment, even as memories and
hurt tumbled through her mind, she had been about to open her mouth and shout
for him. What made her think that he could possibly be willing to rescue her?
"You
are a fool, Carmen Mackenzie," she whispered. "Just as much a fool as
coming here to this great, cruel city in the first place. What ever made you
think your answers would be here?"
She
knew the answer to that readily enough. When her mother was alive, Chicago had
been an adventure. A place of wonders to explore, grand edifices to gawk at,
and stores and concert halls and libraries. There was always time for something
fascinating after the missionary society business had been attended to. Carmen
had felt so sure that when she arrived in Chicago, her memories would guide her
to friends of her mother, to people who could help her.
Carmen remembered her mother going on errands in the
city, always by herself, and once had asked her father who her mother had
visited, what she had done. Reverend Mackenzie had responded that he didn't
know. Anna had painful secrets in her past, and he trusted her when she asked
him to never ask, because knowing could be dangerous.
