fool, a fool played by Molly Bowditch. He was so angry, he almost considered handing the widow back her money. But he’d already promised, and besides, Nate, his boyhood boon companion, was the victim. Rees would not allow Nate’s killer to go free.
“Not even if it was Richard,” Rees said aloud.
He pondered the tasks demanding his attention. Although speaking to Mrs. Bowditch might be most important, he was momentarily confounded in that. But he intended to speak to Fred Salley and the nursemaid and examine the cottage once again. He hesitated, irresolute, and then set off up the slope toward the child’s voice. He suspected the high treble belonged to Ben, so could Kate be far away? As he climbed the hill, he wondered why a nursemaid was even necessary. Certainly Mrs. Bowditch did not have a large family to care for and she employed help for all other responsibilities. She seemed to aspire to living as a lily of the field, a lazy life at odds with a busy farm.
“Me no want horsie!” The statement ended on a scream that pierced the quiet like a knife. Rees changed course and soon saw Kate and Grace sitting with Ben under a large maple. The more Grace galloped the wooden steed in front of the little boy, the more fiercely he pushed it away.
“Me run,” he declared. “Chase me.” He set off across the field. Grace jumped to her feet and then, recognizing Rees, stopped short. She looked startled, but Kate stared at Rees in frozen terror. His six-foot-plus frame, broad shoulders, and fiery hair intimidated many. Smiling, Rees slouched and tried to look less frightening.
“He’s helping Mother prove Richard’s innocence,” Grace said quickly. “I’ll catch Ben.”
“Your mother will be angry with you,” Kate said, casting Rees a frightened glance from under her lashes.
“Oh pooh, I don’t care.”
Rees watched her take off in a sprint after her brother. Even her gait: the outthrust shoulders and rocking motion of the hips were her father’s. Then he turned his attention to the nursemaid. She rose slowly to her feet and he instantly understood Caldwell’s sneering laughter. Kate was pregnant, at least four months gone, maybe five, if he correctly judged the size of the bulge beneath her apron.
“Please sit down,” Rees said, lowering himself to the grass so he did not tower over her. She hesitated and then slowly dropped to the grass beside him. Rees regarded her silently. A pretty girl with soft round cheeks and blue eyes, her face was swollen and flushed with crying.
“What do you want?” she asked, turning frightened eyes upon him.
“Richard is suspected of murdering his father,” he said. “I’m sure you know that.” He waited courteously for her nod.
She looked at him impatiently. “Of course,” she said.
“You’re close to Richard?” Rees asked, his eyes dropping involuntarily to her swelling belly.
“No,” she choked out. “No, we aren’t close.” Tears filled her eyes and she quickly wiped them away with a corner of her apron. Rees waited. “I haven’t seen him for weeks.”
“But you both live here,” he said gesturing to the farm around him.
“He stopped speaking to me after I told him about the baby.”
“Who else knows about the baby?”
“Only Grace.” She raised tear-filled eyes. “Oh, and I am so scared to tell Mrs. Bowditch.”
Rees nodded. He suspected Mrs. Bowditch would be neither kind nor understanding. “Is there anyone who will take you in?” he asked.
She shook her head, sniffling. “My father is dead and my mother has enough to do to feed my younger brothers and sisters. What will I do if Mrs. Bowditch turns me out?”
Rees let her sob until she ran out of tears and then returned to his questions. “How long since you spoke to Richard?”
“Three weeks, I think. I had to tell him—” She gestured to her belly. “I’m beginning to show.”
“I must believe you’ve seen him since then,” Rees said. “Even if you didn’t
“Not even if it was Richard,” Rees said aloud.
He pondered the tasks demanding his attention. Although speaking to Mrs. Bowditch might be most important, he was momentarily confounded in that. But he intended to speak to Fred Salley and the nursemaid and examine the cottage once again. He hesitated, irresolute, and then set off up the slope toward the child’s voice. He suspected the high treble belonged to Ben, so could Kate be far away? As he climbed the hill, he wondered why a nursemaid was even necessary. Certainly Mrs. Bowditch did not have a large family to care for and she employed help for all other responsibilities. She seemed to aspire to living as a lily of the field, a lazy life at odds with a busy farm.
“Me no want horsie!” The statement ended on a scream that pierced the quiet like a knife. Rees changed course and soon saw Kate and Grace sitting with Ben under a large maple. The more Grace galloped the wooden steed in front of the little boy, the more fiercely he pushed it away.
“Me run,” he declared. “Chase me.” He set off across the field. Grace jumped to her feet and then, recognizing Rees, stopped short. She looked startled, but Kate stared at Rees in frozen terror. His six-foot-plus frame, broad shoulders, and fiery hair intimidated many. Smiling, Rees slouched and tried to look less frightening.
“He’s helping Mother prove Richard’s innocence,” Grace said quickly. “I’ll catch Ben.”
“Your mother will be angry with you,” Kate said, casting Rees a frightened glance from under her lashes.
“Oh pooh, I don’t care.”
Rees watched her take off in a sprint after her brother. Even her gait: the outthrust shoulders and rocking motion of the hips were her father’s. Then he turned his attention to the nursemaid. She rose slowly to her feet and he instantly understood Caldwell’s sneering laughter. Kate was pregnant, at least four months gone, maybe five, if he correctly judged the size of the bulge beneath her apron.
“Please sit down,” Rees said, lowering himself to the grass so he did not tower over her. She hesitated and then slowly dropped to the grass beside him. Rees regarded her silently. A pretty girl with soft round cheeks and blue eyes, her face was swollen and flushed with crying.
“What do you want?” she asked, turning frightened eyes upon him.
“Richard is suspected of murdering his father,” he said. “I’m sure you know that.” He waited courteously for her nod.
She looked at him impatiently. “Of course,” she said.
“You’re close to Richard?” Rees asked, his eyes dropping involuntarily to her swelling belly.
“No,” she choked out. “No, we aren’t close.” Tears filled her eyes and she quickly wiped them away with a corner of her apron. Rees waited. “I haven’t seen him for weeks.”
“But you both live here,” he said gesturing to the farm around him.
“He stopped speaking to me after I told him about the baby.”
“Who else knows about the baby?”
“Only Grace.” She raised tear-filled eyes. “Oh, and I am so scared to tell Mrs. Bowditch.”
Rees nodded. He suspected Mrs. Bowditch would be neither kind nor understanding. “Is there anyone who will take you in?” he asked.
She shook her head, sniffling. “My father is dead and my mother has enough to do to feed my younger brothers and sisters. What will I do if Mrs. Bowditch turns me out?”
Rees let her sob until she ran out of tears and then returned to his questions. “How long since you spoke to Richard?”
“Three weeks, I think. I had to tell him—” She gestured to her belly. “I’m beginning to show.”
“I must believe you’ve seen him since then,” Rees said. “Even if you didn’t
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