He touched Peggy's cheek to reassure himself that she was all right. He was afraid the nightmares might return, and even if they didn't, he didn't like the idea of her wandering around his house in the dark. He decided to sleep beside her on the bed, or at least to try. He didn't expect to get Jane off his mind.
Early the next morning, he was awakened by a pounding on his door. He threw on his shirt, tucking it into his pants as he ran down the stairs. He opened his door to find a haggard looking man on his doorstep. In the gray morning light, Adam could see horror in the man's eyes.
"My boy," the man said in a choked voice. "You gotta hurry. My boy shot him."
Adam decided not to try to make sense of what the man was saying at the moment. "Go to the livery and tell Knapp to saddle a horse for me," he said. "I'll be right out."
Adam closed the door as the man hurried toward his waiting horse. What to do about Peggy? He could wake Jane, but he hated to; she had looked exhausted at dinner last night.
He had checked his bag to be sure he had everything he needed, and was dressed to leave and still hadn't made up his mind. He gathered Peggy into his arms and carried her down the stairs.
Outside, the man was waiting with the horses. He didn't seem surprised to see a little girl, or perhaps he was too dazed to fully comprehend it. Adam passed Peggy to the man while he mounted. She stirred when he took her back into his arms, then clung to him. He decided it was probably better that he was taking her. Jane didn't need to worry about a distraught child while she tried to fix breakfast.
On the way, the man tried again to explain what had happened. As Adam understood it, Mr. Norse and his son had gone out before dawn to see what was disturbing their chickens. They had lost several during the past few days and suspected a raccoon. They were determined to kill the thief this morning.
He had thought his younger son was safe in the house. It hadn't occurred to him or his older son that the boy would want in on the excitement. It had been dark. The older boy had seen something move.
Adam's first treatment of a gunshot wound in the Wild West was going to be on a seven-year-old boy.
A boy of a dozen years or so met them as they rode into the yard. He held the horses without a word. His pale face and haunted eyes told Adam he was the one who had shot his brother.
Norse dismounted and took Peggy as he had before. This time the little girl slept through the transfer. "Ma'll make a bed for her," the man said. "Little Nick's in our bed and the boys are in the loft. Can't have her fallin' from there."
The man and his wife had enough to worry about without being bothered with Peggy. Adam wished he had left her with Jane. It was too late for that now, though, and he followed the man into his house.
Mrs. Norse came from behind a curtain. Upon seeing Peggy, she gathered blankets and made a bed for her in a corner near the door. From the muted conversation between husband and wife, Adam guessed they had heard all about the strange little orphan girl.
Leaving her in their care, Adam pushed aside the curtain and turned up the lamp. The boy lay still on the bed, his breathing slow and even. Adam carefully removed the bloody bandages that covered his right side. Bleeding had slowed enough that Adam could at once determine several individual injuries. Nick had taken the very edge of a shotgun blast. His brother, fortunately, had nearly missed him.
When the parents joined him he asked for warm water and lots of clean cloth. He would have to remove the shot. He took the necessary implements from his bag as he waited for the couple to return. With the curtain drawn, he could see Peggy sleeping in the next room. He prayed that both children would sleep through the surgery.
With the parents nearby to keep little Nick still, Adam began probing for pieces of shot. He glanced up once to see Peggy sitting on the pallet, watching them. He hoped she didn't become frightened. At that moment, he couldn't think of any good reason for not having left her with Jane.
She was still sitting quietly the next time he looked, and he worried less about her. Nick and his parents seemed to be holding up admirably well. Adam hadn't seen the older boy since he had taken the horses, and determined to speak to him before he left.
He was nearly finished when he glanced up to find the blankets empty. Peggy had wandered off, probably looking for food or for a place to hide. He shouldn't have been surprised; he had been working for what would have seemed like a terribly long time to the child. Surely she would be safe, and they could find her later. He tried to concentrate on finding the last pieces of shot, but a part of him still worried about Peggy.
He stitched up the torn flesh and instructed the mother on dressing the wounds. "Let me fix you some breakfast," she said once he was finished.
"I'd appreciate that," he answered. Maybe the smell of food would bring Peggy out of hiding.
He stepped out the front door and, finding the older boy sitting on the step, sat down beside him. "Your brother's going to be fine," he said.
"I shot him. I'm never picking up a gun again."
Adam nodded. "That's probably not too bad an idea. You're a lousy shot, anyway."
The boy's laugh sounded almost like a sob.
"Did you see a little girl come out here? She seems to have wandered off."
"Yeah," the boy said. "She was following one of the kittens."
"I better go try to find her."
The boy, who gave his name as Rick, helped him search the barn and the other outbuildings. They had exhausted all the obvious places when his mother called them in for breakfast. Rick seemed to be more worried than Adam when they returned to the house.
"Followed a kitten, did she?" asked the father when they told him of the missing girl. "Then it should be easy to find her."
Adam and Rick exchanged a glance. "I guess it's your turn, then, Pa," Rick said.
The man laughed and went back into the house.
"Bet he's already found her in there," Rick mumbled.
They started to follow him in, only to watch him leave again carrying a bowl of milk. On the front porch the man called, "Kitty-kitty-kitty."
Half a dozen kittens came from all directions, and hot on the trail of a yellow-and-white one came one little girl. "Peggy's! Peggy's!" she called.
It was the first time Adam had heard her speak aloud.
When the kitten stopped at the bowl of milk, Peggy scooped it up and held it. "Not too tight, sweetheart," Adam said, coming to the kitten's rescue. "Hold little kittens very gently."
Peggy's hold loosened slightly, and she cuddled the kitten, rocking a little on her tiny bare feet.
"Let the kitten eat its breakfast," he said, taking the animal out of her arms. "You're hungry, too, aren't you?"
Peggy let the kitten go and let Adam lead her away, but she watched the kittens over her shoulder all the way into the house. Once at the table, she took a slice of bread in one hand and a piece of bacon in the other and slipped back off the chair.
"Please, stay here," Adam said, lifting her up again.
Peggy sat obediently for about a minute, then slipped off the chair once more, using the other side this time so she was out of Adam's easy reach.
"We don't take offense at her manners," Mrs. Norse said. "Let her watch the cats while she eats."
Adam kept an eye on the portion of the porch he could see through the open doorway, afraid Peggy would follow the kitten again. After a couple of minutes of standing, she sat down. As long as Adam could see a bit of her dress and apron, he knew she was still there.
"Will she want some more?" Mrs. Norse asked.
"I think she'd be back if she was hungry," he said, picturing Peggy putting bacon in her pocket.
She sent Rick out with another slice of bread, anyway. He returned without it, and Adam decided that was at least better than bacon.
Adam checked on Nick while his brother saddled his horse. When Adam stepped out onto the porch, he found Peggy sitting just where she had been, with the white-and-yellow kitten curled up in her lap. She looked up at him and smiled.
"Whatcha got there, Peggy?" he asked, crouching down beside her. "Can you say kitty?"
"Nonny," she said. "Peggy's Nonny."
"Sweetheart, I'm afraid that's Nick's Nonny, I mean kitty."
Mr. Norse had followed him out. "Nick likes the black one, don't he, Ma?"
Rick, waiting with the horse, was the one who spoke in agreement.
"I'd be obliged if we could take the kitten," Adam said. "This is the first she's spoken out loud and hasn't wanted to hide someplace."