Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House



ADDY WAVED TO us with her good arm as the wagon rolled up to where Patricia, Clora, and I waited on the front steps. Sam pulled the team to a stop, and Mr. Spencer leaped down with more agility than I had seen previously. As he made his way back for Addy, the pounding of hooves and then a stream of dust alerted us to two approaching riders. One of the horses, a dark brown gelding, galloped forward and was brought to an abrupt halt in front of the wagon. From atop the horse, Bill Thomas glared down at Mr. Spencer. “I’m missing the boy!” he shouted. “They’re tellin’ me he’s gone!”

I stared, disbelieving.

“And which boy is that?” Mr. Spencer sounded as angry as I had ever heard him.

Thomas looked over at me. “Should I be askin’ you?”

My look of surprise was genuine. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“That boy Pan!” he said. “What do you know about him runnin’ off?”

I had the horrifying thought that if Pan had escaped, he might have come looking for me. Was he hiding somewhere on this property? “I know nothing,” I said as calmly as I could. “I thought you said he was sold.”

The other rider spoke up. “He was meant for me. I just come for him!”

Thomas swung himself off his horse. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if we have a look around.”

Mr. Spencer turned red in fury. “You doubt my word? Go on! Take a look through the barns. And while you’re at it, you may as well search the house!” He turned to me. “Mr. Burton, do you object to this man going through your room?”

“Not in the least,” I said. But was this wise? Was it possible Pan had found his way into the house?

“Then, Mr. Burton, I ask you to accompany Mr. Thomas to see that everything is left as he found it. I will wait out here with my family.” Mr. Spencer turned back to Addy. “It’s all right, dear. As soon as this invasion is over, we’ll get you in the house.”

The trader, accompanied by Sam, went to search the barns. When Thomas climbed the steps to the house, I followed, while Mr. Spencer shouted after us, “Thomas, I’ll tell you now, you have one chance to do this. You insult me with this accusation! I am not a thief, and neither is my guest! This one time you have my permission for access to my property, but I warn you, it will not happen again!”

I led Thomas through the house, and each time he peered under a bed or opened a cupboard, my heart hammered. But Pan was not found, and Thomas’s fury was palpable when we left the house. I stood next to him on the porch as he surveyed the property, and my eyes followed his when they rested on the wagon.

Adelaide was propped up with pillows and quilts and looked quite comfortable, but when Thomas suddenly jumped off the front porch and strode toward the wagon, she grabbed hold of her arm and stiffened. Hester had already stepped down and stood next to Clora and Patricia, but on Thomas’s swift approach, she clutched the girls to her. When I moved forward, Mr. Spencer stopped me with a glance and a quick shake of his head. Thomas reached the wagon and began to yank at one of the quilts. Addy’s shrieks were so piercing that he stepped back. “Daddy! Daddy! He’s hurting my arm! He’s hurting my arm!”

Mr. Spencer clapped his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “You will not hurt my daughter!” His voice was so dangerous that I did not recognize it. “You have accused me of thievery, you have searched my house, and you have insulted my guest. But you will not assault my daughter. She is ill, and I will harm you if you do not leave at once.”

Addy’s wrenching sobs filled the air. “My arm, Daddy! My arm! Make him go away, Daddy! He’s hurt my arm!” When Patty began to screech for her sister, Thomas moved away, but he shot me a last look before mounting his horse.

Addy’s cries continued as the two rode away, though they quickly ceased when the riders were no longer in sight. Patricia, concerned for her sister, began to climb into the wagon. Mr. Spencer caught her by her waist and set her down beside Clora. “Hester, I need you to take Clora and Patty up to Addy’s room and wait for us there. Make certain the girls stay with you. I might have to carry Addy up, and I don’t want to trip over anyone.”

Addy exhaled after Hester quickly ushered the two young girls away. “Oh, Daddy!” she said, her face blotched pink from crying.

“You were brave, my dear. Very brave,” her father said. “But now let’s get you into the house.”

I came forward to help just as Addy moved her feet to the side and pulled back the pink and green quilt. “Are you all right?” she whispered, looking down into the wide eyes of a frightened boy.

I stared at Pan in disbelief. I was about to shout my relief when Mr. Spencer barked out, “Cover him up!” and Pan ducked under the covers once again. “Boy! Can you hear me?” he asked.

A muffled “uh-huh” answered him.

“Listen to me,” Mr. Spencer said. “First we will get Miss Addy into the house. You stay right where you are, and we will drive the wagon into the barn. Later we’ll roll you up in blankets and bring you into the house. You hear me?”

The “uh-huh” was barely perceptible. I could have wept in relief at knowing Pan was with us.

As we helped Addy from the wagon, she looked at me and gave a thin laugh. “Oh, Mr. Burton, I was so frightened for the poor boy! My legs still feel weak,” she said.

“I don’t wonder,” I said, offering her a grateful smile. What bravery she and her father had shown! But why had they risked so much? What was Pan to them? Yet now was not the time to ask.

“Do you want me to go to the barn with the wagon?” I asked Mr. Spencer.

“No, I’ll go with Sam. It’s best that you go inside. Can you take Addy in? Hester is waiting for her in her room. The two younger girls know nothing about this,” he warned.

“I understand,” I said before offering Addy my arm and leading her into the house.

She sighed when we came to the inside stairway. “I don’t know if I am strong enough to climb all of those stairs, Mr. Burton. I believe I might be too weak.”

“Miss Adelaide, do I have your permission to carry you?” I asked.

“You do,” she said, and when I scooped her up, she dropped her head against my shoulder. Her hand rested softly against my chest. “This is really quite romantic,” she said, sighing again, and in spite of the trauma of the day, I fought back a chuckle.

“Well, today you are a heroine,” I said.

“Do you think so, Mr. Burton?” she asked as I carried her to her room.

“Indeed I do,” I said.

The patient was welcomed into her room with great fanfare. As Hester settled her on her bed, Addy pulled her down to whisper in her ear: “Did I do well, Hester?”

Hester smoothed Addy’s hair back from her face while giving her a soft look. “You did real good, Miss Addy. You did jus’ like your own mama woulda done.”

Patty stood back, nervously observing her older sister. “Did he hurt you?” she asked. “It sounded like he hurt you.”

“Come here, dearest,” Addy said to her, tapping the bed. “Come here beside me. I’ve missed you, Patty Pat.” When Patricia burst into tears and ran to her, I left them to Hester.

Downstairs, I met Mr. Spencer on the way to his study. He motioned for me to follow, and once there he poured each of us a double measure of whiskey. He tossed his down and I followed suit, welcoming the hot surge.

“Sit,” Mr. Spencer commanded as he removed a pistol from the interior of his jacket and set it on his desk, but I remained standing, anxious to see Pan.

“Do you want me to bring the boy in?” I asked.

“No,” he said, pointing to a chair as he took a seat. “At this moment he’s as safe in the barn as he is in here. But we need to get him away from this property as soon as possible.”

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