Through the Darkness Read online

  Everett scowled. "Why won't you tell me if Elyria's here?"

  "This is going nowhere." Daphne turned, folding her arms across her chest and leveled a pointed stare his way. "Very well. I need you to tell me something."

  He held her gaze and waited.

  "Why did you put the ad in the paper looking for her?"

  "Because," he answered slowly, "I wanted to thank her for her care."

  Daphne studied him, her gaze narrowed as though weighing his answer and determining if it rang true. "And after her first reply…I seem to recall you expressing your gratitude. Why not end the correspondence there? You'd done what you'd set out to do, after all."

  Everett shook his head and stared down at his booted feet. "What are you really asking, hmmm?" Meeting her gaze, he leveled a heated glare her way. "Why this interrogation?"

  Her lips curled in a smirk, "First things first, Captain Rattlesnake. I'm not afraid of you."

  That much was obvious, he grumbled to himself. "Your point, madame, if you please…"

  She lowered her arms, linking her fingers together at her waist, and asked, "Are you aware she's blind?"

  "Yes," he stated without blinking an eye. "Nurse Winters mentioned it."

  Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, but her tone only hardened and she took a more protective stance on the stoop. "And this fact doesn't alter your…fondness for her?"

  "No," he growled, beyond irritated that she would even dare ask such a question. "Why should it?"

  "Because to some men, it is an unforgivable flaw, somehow making her less than worthy of their affection."

  He braced his feet wide and folded his arms across his chest, grinding out through clenched teeth, "I'm not one of them."

  "Good…" She murmured, "What are your intentions?"

  His eyes narrowed, "Are you asking as a friend or family?"

  "I suppose," she admitted with a small smile curling her lips, "I'm asking as both."

  "Very well, then." He gave a curt nod and declared, "I intend to marry her if she'll have me." He met her gaze, daring her to deny him.

  "I see…may I ask why?"

  "You mean, is it out of some warped sense of obligation because of how we met…as you intimated earlier?"

  "Perhaps," She shrugged, a delicate blush staining her neck and face. "Is it?"

  Everett bent his head and tried to gather his thoughts and emotions. He'd attempted several times over the past year to put his feelings for Elyria into words, to gain a better understanding of them himself. But he'd never found any that genuinely encompassed the depth of what he felt.

  Meeting Daphne's expectant gaze, he said softly, "Have you ever been lost in a pitch-black room where the darkness surrounding you becomes oppressive—growing into a living breathing thing; and despite all that you do, you can't find a way out?"

  She shook her head but remained silent.

  "As time goes on, you start to lose hope someone will hear your screams, and you accept the cold reality that you'll die there, alone and forgotten." He paused and swallowed a lump of emotion, suddenly making it difficult to speak. "Elyria not only heard my screams, but she also showed me my way through the darkness…and in doing so, won my heart—battered and bruised though it might be." Tears stung his eyes as he hoarsely admitted, "I love her from the very core of my soul; I believe I have since the moment I met her."

  Daphne held silent for a minute, wiping tears from her cheeks. Wiping at her cheeks and sniffling, a watery smile creased her face. "You have my blessing, Captain."

  His muscles relaxed on a sigh, and he cleared his throat before saying, "Thank you. Now may I go see her?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  He stared at her, "Why?"

  "She isn't here. Elyria left two days ago to see you in Idaho."

  His stomach dropped to his toes, and his heart started thumping madly in his chest. "She's gone to see me?"

  She rolled her eyes and laughed, "Yes!"

  "In Idaho?"

  Daphne let out a dramatic sigh and repeated, "Yes."

  "But I came to see her."

  "Indeed, Captain…I believe that much has been blatantly obvious from the start."

  Twenty

  Elyria waited on the bench outside the Malad train station, straining her ears for any sound that would signal the trains approach.

  Her left hand rubbed the well-worn wooden pommel of her walking stick, and her right clutched her ticket and bag handle.

  To anyone who saw her, she appeared prepared for a journey just like everyone else there waiting on the train.

  However, the outward calm and composure she worked so hard to convey, was a complete fabrication put in place to hide the stark panic, excitement, and nervousness consuming every nerve of her body.

  An hour had passed since Marcus left her there; the time noted by the change in temperature as the sun's rays warming her lap shifted away.

  For the most part, she spent her time in quiet solitude, broken now and then by birds. Some with unfamiliar tunes sang in a tree to her right before flying out of earshot.

  The wind blew wisps of her hair into her face, tickling her nose and then rustled through leaves. It caused a door inside the station to creak softly back and forth—as though unable to decide if it wanted it left open or closed.

  Despite her best efforts to focus on anything other than her inner turmoil, questions and worries continued their unrelenting assault.

  Did Marcus tell the truth? Had Everett gone to propose to her? What would he do when he discovered her gone?

  Was he waiting for a train at that very moment, in the hopes of returning and reaching her before she left Idaho? What would she do if she returned home and found that to be the case? Would she spend the rest of her life forever on a train, failing time and again, to cross his path?

  Or would he be there upon her arrival and not be able to recognize her? For all she knew, they could walk right past each other and never know it.

  A faint whistle sounded in the distance, signaling the trains approach and offering her a blessed reprieve.

  Footsteps shuffled against the wood platform as passengers prepared for the imminent arrival. And Elyria sat, waiting until the train pulled in with a loud rhythmic chug-a-chug.

  Brakes screeched and metal ground against metal. A jet of steam hissed its release until the train finally rolled to a stop with a heavy groan.

  "FIFTEEN MINUTES TILL DEPARTURE LADIES, AND GENTLEMEN," The conductor shouted, walking the full length of the platform, "FIFTEEN MINUTES."

  When his footsteps sounded near her location, Elyria stood. "Excuse me, sir?" She raised her voice to be heard over the commotion. "Sir? Excuse me!"

  His steps hesitated, but then he continued past her.

  Elyria hung her head and sighed, digging her cane into the wood platform. Oh, how she loathed her blindness in times like these.

  Boarding a train unassisted could be done, but not without coming away with a few injuries in the process. Last time, she missed the first step altogether and ended up bruised from shin to elbow.

  Following the noise of the crowd moving to board, she carefully made her way over. Once it was her turn, she reached out for the iron handle somewhere along the right side of the passenger car.

  "Would you like some assistance, miss?" The conductor said, coming up beside her.

  She gave him a grateful smile, "Yes, please."

  "May I have your bag?"

  Elyria nodded and handed it over, "Thank you."

  "My pleasure, Miss—?" He asked, taking hold of her right elbow and helping her up the three steps onto the train.

  "Ormond," she murmured.

  "Pleased to meet you; I’m Mr. Woolerton, your conductor until we reach Chicago. I've got a niece who's blind, quiet little thing." He silently directed her to turn left, and then down a narrow aisle to her seat. "Would you like me to stow your bag for you, Miss Ormond?" He asked in a warm and friendly tone.

  She nodded, gri
tting her teeth against the stares settling on her with his prolonged attention in the hopes they'd be able to determine what about her would warrant his continued presence at her side.

  It was one of a handful of things that irritated her about being blind.

  Ever since her fall from the tree that had caused her blindness fourteen years ago, she'd come to learn that fully sighted people were oblivious to the fact that stares—regardless if they were of a curious, sympathetic, or rude nature—all had an uncomfortable weight to them.

  But what made it worse, was that when the question of her blindness crossed over from curiosity to fact within their awareness, their heavy stares were most often replaced by some form of condescension in the way they then chose to interact with her.

  However, Mr. Woolerton seemed to be an exemption to the rule. He tucked her bag under her seat, then said in a tone that harbored nothing but kindness, "I'll be back this way shortly; should you need anything along the way, just let me know."

  "Thank you," she murmured, gripping the arms of her seat in surprise when the vehicle tugged forward into motion, accompanied by a sharp hoot of the whistle and loud burst of steam.

  Thinking of what lay at the end of her journey—or more importantly, who—her stomach knotted with anxiety and her palms grew sweaty.

  By its mad pounding in her chest, her heart didn't care that there were still at least two days of travel, involving multiple stops and connections along the way. Or the fact she didn't know if Everett would even be there when she arrived.

  But she hoped he would be, and for now, it was enough.

  Twenty-One

  Everett grumbled several well-deserved curses while climbing the steps leading to the front door of number 224 for the hundredth—only a slight exaggeration—time over the past three days.

  At the start of his time here in Washington DC, he'd tolerated stairs with a quiet and yet civil distaste.

  But after the past three days of staying in a hotel with a broken elevator forcing him to use the fourteen stairs to get to his room, his toleration had shot with lightning speed into full-blown contempt of the infernal things—much the same way he viewed his father.

  Upon reaching the stoop, his thigh burned with an intense, fiery ache and threatened a mutiny. Limping to the door, he rested a moment before raising his hand to knock—only to have it swung open by Daphne before he could.

  "I'm beginning to regret allowing you to persuade me to stay," he growled, "I waited at the station all night, and she never showed."

  "Good afternoon to you too, Captain," Daphne murmured with a twinkle in her eye. "Why don't you come in and sit down? You look like you might fall over at any moment."

  "Three days!" He grumbled, hobbling over to the sofa nearby, "What if she isn't coming?"

  Daphne closed the door and followed behind, waiting for him to sit before propping his leg on a padded stool. "There may have been a delay somewhere along the way. You know how it can be."

  He grunted his reply and squeezed his eyes shut against a sudden muscle spasm. Digging his fingers into his thigh, he massaged the hard knot until it loosened. "What if there's been an accident?"

  "There hasn't been. We would have heard about it, I'm sure."

  Everett opened his eyes and glared. "What if she missed one of her connecting trains?"

  "Then they would have put her on the next one heading this way."

  He choked off a growl and pursed his lips. "I should have gotten on the first train back to Idaho, at least then-"

  "You'd have arrived too late," Daphne interrupted. She leveled a stern look and crossed her arms over her chest, "Waiting here was the correct decision, you must be patient, Captain Rattlesnake. I must say, I rather hoped to have seen the last of you."

  Burying his face in his hands, he let out a heavy sigh and groaned, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to take out my frustration on you…will you forgive me?"

  Daphne patted him on the shoulder, "Apology accepted, Captain. I know such rude behavior is only because you're tired and in pain." She laughed and walked out of the room, chirping, "I'm taking the children to the park to give Simon a bit of quiet while he finishes up work before dinner…care to join us?"

  He groaned and rested his head on the back of the sofa. "Do I have to?"

  "The park will be infinitely more enjoyable than sitting here, sulking and wallowing in your misery."

  "I do not wallow."

  She hmmm'd then said, "You say that as though you actually believe it to be true." Arching her brow at him, she winked and left the room.

  Dealing with the damn stairs again was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment, let alone walking to the park. Because after arriving there, more walking than he cared to take part in at present would be involved.

  But it did beat doing nothing before he resumed his vigil at the train station later today. Cursing himself for being a glutton for punishment, Everett let out a resigned sigh.

  "Was your leg hurt in the war?" Anne asked, standing right in front of him.

  Everett's eyes flew open. How long had she been standing there and why hadn't he heard her?

  "Daddy said he hurt his in the war and the doctors had to take it to make him better. Will the doctors have to take yours too?"

  "No, they won't have to take it," he murmured, planting his cane to help him stand and then slowly making it to his feet with a grimace. "They already had their chance."

  "Does it hurt real bad?" She said softly, slipping her hand in his.

  "Sometimes," He whispered with a small nod, finding it difficult to say more just then.

  "Ready?" Daphne asked, holding her infant son in one arm and pushing the empty pram to the door with the other. "If you'll carry William, I'll take care of the rest."

  Everett gave Anne's tiny hand a gentle squeeze before letting go to take the baby into his arms.

  Seven minutes later, Everett, Daphne, and her little troupe and pram were safely at the bottom of the steps and on their way down the street.

  Anne quickly took Everett's hand once more in her tenacious little grip, bringing a warmth to his heart and a tender smile to his face.

  As the afternoon wore on and they meandered their way through the lush green grasses and tall trees of the park, Anne pointed to a massive weeping willow just ahead that stood out from the rest. "That one is Auntie El's favorite."

  "Is it?" he murmured, studying the tree with renewed interest.

  "There's a bench beneath the branches if you'd care to rest your leg a bit?" Daphne said with a smile. "I know my feet would sure appreciate it."

  He nodded, and they made their way over, parting the sweeping branches to reveal the bench hidden at the base. Limping over to it, he sat with a pained groan and stretched his leg out. "It's quite peaceful here, isn't it?"

  Daphne lifted William from the pram and cuddled him to her chest as she sat next to Everett. "I think that's why Elyria enjoys it so. Usually, if I can't find her at home, nine times out of ten, she'll be here."

  "It's beautiful." Closing his eyes, he got a sense of what she might experience while sitting there and allowed the various sounds to wash over him. Even the air seemed different, making it feel more of a hallowed place instead of merely a tree. "How long has she lived with you?"

  "Since her parents died," Daphne said softly. "She's a fiercely independent woman, but she also knows her limitations. It didn't take much convincing on my part for her to agree to move in with us. I believe it's been rather good for Anne."

  "How so?"

  "Because she's able to see Elyria is just as capable of doing most things as anyone else…but in her own way."

  He turned to face her, "She's lucky to have you."

  "Yes, she is," Daphne quipped with a smile. "But, in all seriousness, I'm luckier to have her." She looked down at her son in her arms and kissed his brow, "We've been friends since we learned to walk. I was there the day…the doctor's said she was lucky to have survived at all." She swa
llowed and met Everett's gaze, "She's a remarkable woman, Captain, despite all the challenges and heartache that have beset her."

  "I'm hungry, mama," Anne said, drawing Everett's attention over to where she ran her hands up and down the wispy branches, sifting the thin leaves through her fingers. "Can we go home now?"

  "Oh, my yes…it is dinner time, isn't it?" Daphne murmured, settling William back in the pram. "and Daddy should be finished with work by now," she cooed softly to the baby before turning to Everett. "Will you be dining with us tonight?"

  "No," he replied absently, pushing his sleeve back to look at his wristwatch, "I'd better leave for the station."

  They stood and started their journey back in silence, but upon nearing home, Daphne turned to him. "She'll be there today, you'll see."

  Hopefully, Daphne was right.

  After saying his goodbyes at the bottom step, and making sure they made it inside safely, Everett forced himself to walk at a sedate pace to his car—a feat made all the more possible by his aching leg.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to the station and made his way inside to his usual spot. Searching the faces of each female passenger passing by proved futile since he still hadn't a clue what she looked like.

  All attempts, on Daphne's part, to show him pictures of Elyria had been vehemently denied.

  He insisted he didn't need pictures, not when their hearts would know each other. It had all sounded so very romantic that even little Anne had gasped, "Oh, mama, isn't he wonderful?"

  Now he wished he'd given in. It would have made this part of it all much easier.

  Letting out a weary groan, he sat and waited, getting up now and then to pace until the next train arrived. And then the process started all over again.

  When the large ornate clock chimed the hour of ten, Everett stood straight as the last train of the night pulled into the station. He knew deep in his gut this train would be the one.

  With bated breath, he carefully studied each of the passenger's faces as they passed, waiting for his heart to say he'd found her. But it never happened.

  He stared at the empty train, shocked that he could have been so very wrong when only a few minutes ago he'd been so confident.