A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(77)

“Are you ill, sir?” Adam’s voice was sharp.

“Ill—me—ne’er sick a day in m’life. Tha’s my woman, she’s always caterwaulin’ about somepin don’ feel right.” He glared around the room, apparently trying to focus, then pointed a shaking finger at his two offspring. “You’uns—why ain’t you out doin’ the chores? Good for nothin’ boy, din’t I tell you—”

“John already worked in the fields a long time today, Pa,” Bethany protested, her voice quivery but brave. “It’s plumb dark now. And I did the milkin’—”

“Did I ask you?” He glowered at her.

Bethany lowered her eyes but kept a firm grip on her brother’s arm.

Was that how she’d gotten the black eye? Sticking up for her brother? Flames smoldered in RJ’s chest again, his fists aching to swing at Tom Kinsley’s florid face.

“Mr. Kinsley.” Adam’s words could cut steel. “You appear to be inebriated, sir, and in no condition to care for your family. Your wife is not well, and I fear for both her and the child she carries if she does not receive better rest and food.”

“You one of them quack doctors?” Tom Kinsley’s lip curled.

“I am a doctor, though I hope no one who knows me would consider me a quack. I am a trained and experienced physician, and I urge you not to take my words lightly.”

Tom staggered to his feet. “Get out o’ my house.”

Even in his lurching state, Tom Kinsley wasn’t a man to be trifled with. He wasn’t overly tall but had powerful shoulders and fists and easily fifty pounds on the doctor.

But Adam stood his ground, staring the other man in the eye. “You have the right to order us to leave your home. But I urge you to dispose of whatever alcohol you have hidden about it. Your wife’s health is in danger, and your children both bear the marks of your drunken lack of self-control. If things grow worse, I will have no choice but to inform the legal authorities.”

“Get out.” The words rumbled low and were filled with warning.

“I will be back to check on Mrs. Kinsley when you are in a more amiable mood.” Adam turned and gave a quick nod to Del and RJ. “Let’s go.”

“Is there nothing more we can do?” Del asked when they paused by the wagon for RJ to unsaddle and hitch up Captain. “The children, are they seriously injured?”

“They’ll live. At this point.” Adam set his bag in the gig and sighed. “Bethany’s eye is healing, and the best I can tell, John’s leg is only badly bruised. What might come of further drunken rages, I cannot predict.”

Del gripped the edge of the wagon bed so hard the boards rattled. “We must get that liquor tent abolished.”

“What about the legal measures you mentioned?” RJ asked.

Adam tugged on his gloves and shook his head. “I spoke hastily in my own anger, I’m afraid. From what Henry says, we’ve no real legal recourse in these cases unless there is egregious injury or death. I only hope Tom is too ignorant to know that.”

“So we can do nothing?” RJ yanked the last harness straps into place. “In New York this year, a man founded a society for the prevention of cruelty to animals. But we can’t prevent cruelty to children?”

“I’ll check in on the mother as long as he’ll allow and use that to keep an eye on the children too. As Del will at school. That’s about all we can do now besides pray.” Adam’s shoulders sagged wearily. “I don’t suppose they have any family around?”

“While I was waiting for you tonight, Bethany told me they have an older brother. I’d never heard that before.” She paused and shook her head. “I asked Mrs. Kinsley, and she said he left some time ago. He promised to send money back to pay the chit at the store but for her not to let the father know. I guess he tried to talk her into coming with him with the younger children, but she insisted her place was by her man. He was a good man until the liquor got him. So she says, anyway.”

“Who knows where that son is now.” Adam heaved a sigh. “RJ, perhaps you could drive Del home?”

RJ did, wanting to say something to comfort her, but the cold weight of the night rendered them both silent. At last he helped her out of the wagon, the door of the Nielsens’ soddy immediately spilling light and anxious sisters.

“RJ?” Del’s voice, soft with fatigue, caught him as he lifted the reins to drive home.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For going with me today.” She laid her hand on the wagon side by his foot.

His spontaneous offer in the schoolroom seemed a week removed from them now, a somehow more innocent time. But he nodded, his throat suddenly thick in the darkness. “You’re welcome.”



RJ slept until the sun’s rays woke him, then dashed for the boardinghouse site without breakfast, berating himself for sleeping so late. His workers all arrived before he did—no lazy good-for-nothings like Clive Johnson in this bunch—and had gotten started on the day’s labor. A good thing too, for RJ’s mind stayed blurry, his hands fumbling the tools with exhaustion. His eye socket bothered him, probably because he’d missed his mud poultice last night.

“You all right there, Boss?” William Thacker’s young brow wrinkled with concern.