A/N: Sorry for the very long delay. Life's been busy, but I have to admit this chapter was the hardest to write so far. Guess I was having some kind of author's block.

Anyway, enjoy and tell me what you think.


Chapter 10 – The Auntie.

"In an expression, you must address the multiplication and division elements first, and only after that you proceed to the subtraction or addition. Try it again."

Nate bit his lower lip and restarted the calculation, getting it right the second time.

"Well done!" I exclaimed, earning a beam from him. I had been tutoring the sheriff's son for four weeks, and I had yet to see him giving up a task before it was thoroughly overcome.

"Thanks, Miss Howlett," he said, then coughed.

Nathan had been alternating between normal breathing and coughing fits the whole morning. According to his father, the symptoms had started with the change in the weather four days before and had been gradually improving. In my opinion, the coughing had only worsened in the last 24 hours.

I glanced up at the cuckoo clock on the wall. "What time did you last take your medicine, Nate?"

"Um… I don't know. Last night maybe?"

It was way past midday now. "Didn't your Aunt Lorna give it to you this morning?"

Nathan shook his head. "She must've forgotten. I sure did."

I held back a curse and stood up to fetch his bronchitis syrup. Lorna and I had become closer in the previous weeks, and despite all the opportunities we'd had to talk, not once had she confided to me the reason behind her grief. I had let that pass because it was none of my business. But if her heartbreak was impacting on my pupil's health, perhaps it was time I did something about it.

I found the syrup on the kitchen table behind an empty basket of bread. I opened the cupboard to search for a spoon; a quick exam of its few contents told me that the boy wouldn't be eating anytime soon.

I gave Nate the medicine. Once he stopped coughing, I asked, "What did you have for breakfast?"

"Milk," he responded.

"What else?"

"Nothing. I told Auntie Lorna I wasn't hungry."

"Regardless… you should've eaten something. She should've made you eat something."

I was aware that Lorna had been left in charge of the boy's meals since Madelyne had left. Judging by the scarcity of edible items in the kitchen, the fact that Nathan hadn't eaten since the previous day, and her frequent and current unpunctuality, I decided she had been doing a poor job.

"Grab a coat, Nate. We're going for a walk," I announced.

"A wa-walk? Whe-where?"

"To Ms. Guthrie's eatery."

Samuel's family owned a small restaurant near the train station where I occasionally grabbed lunch while waiting for one of the boys to come pick me after work. The food was simple but tasty, and I bet it was better than anything Lorna could come up with for her nephew that afternoon.

"I-I shouldn't leave the house, Miss Howlett," Nathan paused to cough, then continued, "My auntie's supposed to arrive anytime. She'll get worried if she doesn't find me here."

"We'll leave her a note," I replied. I ripped out a piece of paper from his notebook and wrote down where we were going, then left it on the dining table. "Come on."

Nate stared at me with big, scared eyes, moving his skinny arms in front of him nervously. "I-I… Wh-what about-"

I suddenly comprehended the reason beyond his hesitation. I grabbed one of his father's hats that was hanging behind the door and put it on his head. It was too big for him, evidently, but I though he looked adorable in it. "There. No one will notice the scars now."

"But… it doesn't cover my eye! People will still see the marks!" the boy argued.

"So what? Mr. Guthrie has a scar on his left cheek that is twice the size of yours. And one of his daughters has to wear glasses so thick you almost can't see her eyeballs. They don't care about your appearance, Nate."

"But the kids on the street…" he coughed again, "they'll make fun of me," another cough, "just like the Ugly Duckling's siblings did to him."

Malnourished or not, at least Nate had been paying attention to my classes.

I kneeled down to look him in the eye. "Nathan," I began gently, "you need to have proper food, sweetie, otherwise it'll take longer for you to get better. Auntie Lorna is already behind schedule, and by the time she finishes preparing your lunch it will be almost dinner time."

"But I don't wanna go!" he cried. "I want my papa! And my momma!"

I sighed. Obviously, the prospect of leaving the house terrified the boy, but I had no clue what time his aunt would arrive, and I couldn't let him starve. I cursed Madelyne, Alexander, and Lorna for putting Nate and me in that situation.

"I have an idea. What if we ate, then stopped by the sheriff's office to pay a surprise visit to your papa, huh? We can see the horses there, maybe even ride a little. What do you say?" Nathan eyed me for a moment, and I could tell by his frown that he was considering my proposition. Encouraged, I intoned, "They have apple pie at the Guthrie's…"

He crossed his arms against his chest and mumbled, "I love apple pie."

"I know you do. I saw it in your mind."

"Humph. You're getting too good at reading my thoughts, Miss Howlett," he grumbled.

I smiled. "I am, ain't I?"

We walked the few blocks that separated his house from the eatery hand-in-hand. I saw Nate pulling the cowboy hat over his face when a couple of boys looked our way, but they soon decided to mind their own business, to which I exhaled in relief. Lunch consisted of beef and coleslaw, and for dessert my young companion devoured a big slice of apple pie. Joelle Guthrie, Sam's youngest sister, sat with us at the communal table and started making conversation. Nate did his best to ignore her at first, but by the end of lunchtime both were chatting and laughing at his sugar and cinnamon smeared face.

I paid the bill, and as promised, took my apprentice to visit his father. Outside the sheriff's office, a huge colored fellow who appeared to be in his middle fifties was attaching a horse to a hitching post.

"Nathan Christopher Summers, what're you doing here?" he asked Nate while side-glancing me.

"Howdy, Mr. Bishop! Miss Howlett promised I could visit papa if I agreed to leave the house and have lunch with her," he explained.

"Um… Is that so?" he turned his whole body to me, and I noticed that he had a M-shaped scar around his right orb. I had seen similar marks on some of Shaw's oldest servants' faces – except with a 'S' instead of an 'M'. It meant that once, before the War, those folks had been regarded as property and marked by their owners like cattle. The idea of slavery has always horrified me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine at the thought.

"You must be Logan's sister," I heard him saying.

"Y-Yes," I confirmed, curtsying in his direction. "I'm Laura."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Laura," he bowed politely. "I'm Sergeant Lucas Bishop, the sheriff's second-in-command. Scott must be inside. Follow me."

As soon as we stepped into the office, the four or five men locked in the cell at the far end of the room started whistling and throwing obscenities at me. Startled by the sudden commotion, Sheriff Summers glanced up from the papers on his desk, finally noticing us. He sprinted in our direction.

"Nathan! Are you alright? Did something happen?" he asked, checking on his son in concern. Meanwhile, Bishop reproached the rowdy criminals with some very intimidating yells.

"Nate's fine, sheriff," I intervened to promptly tranquilize him. "I apologize for bringing him to your work in the middle of the afternoon but… Lorna was late… again."

"Oh," Summers raised his brows. "It's… it's okay, Miss Howlett. You don't need to apologize," he said, glimpsing at Nate again to certify that he was fine one last time. "I'm sorry, but how often has Lorna been arriving late?"

"Well-"

One of the prisoners shouted another indelicacy at me, making both the sheriff and me blush. Summers quickly covered his son's ears with his hands and roared, "Shut up, Petros, or I'll rip your tongue off inch by inch with a blind knife and feed it to the pigs while I watch you bleed to death!"

Hearing that, I felt my eyes widening in horror and my feet giving a step back. I could never have imagined that the composed Sheriff Summers could be so scary, and for a moment I second-guessed my decision to outrightly lie to that man. He must have noticed my shock, for he asked Lucas to take Nathan to see the horses on the backyard and gently guided me outside through the front door.

"I'm so sorry you had to witness that, Miss Howlett, but a sheriff's office is no place for a lady. These lowlifes have no respect for women, I'm afraid."

"I-I could see that," I voiced, still somewhat flustered by the hostile environment. "I wonder where you keep the female prisoners," I asked, genuinely curious.

"We uh… actually, I've never arrested a woman," he admitted. "I guess there aren't as many female criminals as male ones out there. But we don't have separate cells, if that's what you're wondering."

"That's… worrisome," I mumbled to myself. I tried to push away the thought of being imprisoned with that bunch and decided instead to fish for information. "So, once you catch that redhead who assaulted Mr. Show, you're just going to throw her in prison with those fellas."

"It's Mr. Shaw," Sheriff Summers corrected me uncomfortably, then took off his cowboy hat and scratched his nape. "Hopefully, Miss Howlett, it won't be me who catches her. Marshall Lehnsherr thinks she might have crossed the border to Mexico."

"Really?" I asked, my heart filling with hope. "And what do you think, sheriff?"

"Honestly? I think chances are that Jean Wyngarde turned into coyote food a long time ago. I can't imagine how a city lady without any resources could survive for months in the wilderness, even with the Indian woman's help," he answered. "But her husband hasn't given up searching and has even raised the bounty on her, thus we can't afford to give up either," he put the hat back on his head and scoffed, "Mr. Wyngarde must really love his wife. I wouldn't pay a cent to have Maddie back."

I nearly burst into nervous laughter. I wanted to shout, 'Jason only loves money and himself!' but I obviously couldn't. For a moment, I envied Madelyne Summers, because all that I wanted was for Jason to forget I ever existed and let me live my life in peace, like Summers had done to his wife. Naturally, I couldn't be that lucky.

Then it came to my attention that it was the first time I'd heard the sheriff mentioning his failed marriage. Despite his indifferent demeanor, it was evident that he was still hurting. I remembered how devastated he had seemed that afternoon in The White Queen, so drunk and lost… I felt the urge to comfort him in my arms, but I didn't dare to.

"Madelyne's a fool," I caught myself thinking aloud.

Summers eyed me with surprise, and I felt myself blushing and with the sudden need to inspect my boots. He waited for me to elaborate, which I didn't, of course… Silence stretched between us, until he cleared his throat and spoke again.

"About Lorna, you were saying…"

"Oh, right." I looked up at his face. "I uh… I'm not one for gossiping, sheriff… but I promised to tell you if anything worrying happened, and Lorna… well, she's been more often late than on time… and distracted, I suppose. This morning, she forgot to give Nathan his syrup – the poor kid coughed throughout his classes."

"That's unacceptable," Summers stated.

"Once I realized it, I gave him the medicine," I told him, then explained about the lack of breakfast and the need for a detour to the eatery. I watched as Sheriff Summers frowned and scowled at each new piece of information. By the time I was finished, I couldn't tell if the man was more worried or disappointed at his adoptive sister.

"I'm going to have a serious conversation with Lorna," he said. "Never before has she acted this recklessly. That was usually… Alex's job."

The last two words were spoken almost above a whisper. Again, I saw pain in the sheriff's eyes. His wife and brother had done a number not only on him, but apparently on Lorna too.

"I've noticed that she frequently arrives home with red eyes, sheriff… I've tried to make her talk to me, but she keeps telling me that she's fine, that there's nothing to worry about," I informed him. "But I'm assuming her relationship with your brother was… intense. Beyond fraternal, perhaps?"

Summers sighed. "Lorna was in love with my brother… still is, I suppose. I don't know how Alex felt about her… I mean, I caught them kissing in the kitchen one night -which I scolded him for- but then… he left with Maddie," he sighed again. "So, I can't really tell what my brother felt for Lorna. But knowing him, I-"

He stopped mid-sentence. I watched as his face suddenly turned pale only to become livid one second later.

"Sheriff, are you all right?"

He took a very deep breath before answering, "No, Miss Howlett, I'm not all right. I just realized my brother is a bigger scumbag than I thought he was."

I felt my eyebrows arching in surprise. "Y-You think he… I mean, you think he and Lorna…"

"It would explain why she's acting so out of character," the sheriff concluded. Then he shook his head, scoffed, and cursed, "Alex, you bastard! You couldn't ruin it only for me, you had to drag poor Lorna along."

Hearing him saying those words in the middle of the street on a Wednesday afternoon made me realize I wasn't the only unfortunate soul with a miserable love life in Fredericksburg. I could relate to Lorna and Scott. I wanted to help them.

"Look, sheriff, maybe you should indeed talk to your sister, see if you can help her. But please, do not lecture her… Lorna's clearly been through enough."

"Miss Howlett, regardless of what's happened between her and my brother, Lorna has responsibilities towards Nathan. I cannot accept her not fulfilling her duties, even if she is heartbroken," he argued restlessly.

"What if… she's with child?" I dared to ask.

He paused and stared at my face for a moment. "That's… a possibility I don't even want to entertain," he replied at last, his gaze then moving to the far end of the street. "It would bring even more shame on my family."

Once again, I felt the desire to hug the sheriff and promise him that everything was going to be alright… that a good man like himself would eventually find love again, and that whoever that lucky woman was, she would care for Nathan as well… I mean, how could she not? The boy was simply adorable.

Before I knew it, I was offering, "I can take over Lorna's responsibilities concerning Nate until she's feeling better." Oops.

Summers' caramel eyes widened in surprise. "Excuse me?"

Logan was going to kill me for this, I realized. "I can stay with Nathan after classes until Lorna gets home. I could cook lunch for him, make sure he takes his medicines, take him for a stroll… these kinds of things."

The sheriff seemed dumbfounded for a second. "You'd do that?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Why?"

"Because Nathan needs someone to look after him," I responded. And I need you to keep trusting me.

He eyed me for a long moment. "You're willing to cook for my son… and look after him… like a nanny?"

I shrugged. "Sure. I happen to be a great cook, and God knows that boy could use some extra pounds."

"What about Logan? What will he think of it?"

"As long as I'm home before dark, my brother won't say a word. Plus, Sammy Guthrie's a much better help than I ever was. The ranch's in good hands."

"I wouldn't want you walking alone in the dark either. I could take you… I mean, if you don't mind waiting until I get home," the man proposed.

I didn't. Plus, I doubted that Creed would try to corner me again if I were to ride home with Summers.

"It's settled, then," I said, smiling. "Just make sure to buy provisions, sheriff, and I'll see to the rest. You and Lorna could use some nice homemade meals as well."

He smiled back at me. "Consider it done, Miss Howlett."


From the next day on, my routine at the Summers changed. I would tutor Nathan by morning, then leave him working on some especial task until lunch was ready. As agreed, the sheriff had stocked the larder with plenty of supplies; that first afternoon, I chose to go with the beef stroganoff's recipe that Peter had taught me and that everyone back home loved so much. Nate had a full plate, then asked for some more.

I tidied up the kitchen, leaving the rest of the food in the crock pot so that it could be warmed up later for dinner. Nathan and I were already back to our studies by the time Lorna arrived. She didn't look well as she bent down to kiss her nephew's forehead.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"Not really," she replied, then hiccuped. "I-I've got a queasy stomach today. I'm going to lay down a bit."

"Okay," I said, eyeing her with suspicion as she climbed up the stairs to her bedroom. I thought I had smelled alcohol on her breath, which wouldn't be the first time. So, I told Nathan to keep reading Puss in Boots while I followed his aunt upstairs.

I knocked on her door but didn't wait for the consent to come in. I was glad I did that because I found the girl retching over the ceramic chamber-pot.

"Lorna!" I ran to her and held her hair back until she had completely emptied her stomach. Then I sat with her on the bed and rubbed her back as tears moistened her face.

"Lorna, dear… your brother and I are worried about you. Whatever has happened, drinking isn't the solution. Talk to me. Let me help you."

She only cried harder.

"Sweetie, I know this is about Alexander," I began again, earning a desperate look from her. "Would you please tell me what he did? I won't judge, I promise. You can trust me."

She sobbed a few more times. I offered her my handkerchief; she wiped her tears, then showed me the saddest smile I had ever seen on anyone's face.

"He-he told me… he told me that he loved me."

I kept rubbing her back. "What else?"

"He said he wanted to marry me… but that Scott wouldn't allow us." She took a deep breath before continuing, "About a month before he left, I heard they fighting in the living room; on the next morning, Alex told me we might need to run away in order to be together."

I couldn't help but snort at that. Apparently, Alexander wanted to leave it all behind, no matter what lady agreed to accompany him. Bastard!

"Did you know about him and Madelyne?"

"God, no! I could never have imagined it. Alex swore to me…," new tears gathered in her eyes, "he swore to me that I was the love of his life… that we were meant to be together. We even-"

I squeezed her hand. "You laid with him."

She hung her head low and nodded.

I mentally cursed all men that had ever existed and renewed my vows to never fall in love. I was convinced that sex and riches were the sole things that interested the male mind, and I was adamant to never fall into the clutches of such greediness again.

The next question was a tough one. "Any chances you're with child?"

Lorna shook her head no. I exhaled in relief, because as difficult as the situation was, a baby would certainly complicate things.

I pulled her into an embrace. "You're going to be all right, sweetie," I told her. "No matter what happened, your family loves and supports you. Everything will turn out all right."

"No, it won't," I heard her muffled voice. "Alex ruined my chances of happiness. No gentleman will ever want to marry me now that I'm no longer chaste."

Lorna was only eighteen years old, which was old enough to get married but too young to make wise decisions that would affect the rest of her life. I knew it, for I had been there. If only someone had convinced me to wait a few more years, perhaps my life wouldn't have become the mess it was. Thus, I pushed her away a little so that I could look her in the eye. "Who says you need a husband to be happy?"

Lorna snorted. "Right! I can still be a nun… or a whore."

"That's not what I meant!" I replied in a scolding tone. "Look at me. I'm not married, and I'm happy. Tutoring Nathan is enough to make me happy."

Even I was amazed by my capacity to lie those days.

"But… aren't you sad for what happened to your fiancé?"

Instead of thinking about a fake tragedy with a fake fiancé, I thought about Jason. "I was very sad -desperate, even- for a good while. But I eventually realized there's nothing I could do about it, so I decided to push my fears and grief away and get on with my life. I've been picking up my pieces and starting over since. My family's been helping me."

Lorna sighed. "I don't think I'm strong enough to do that, Laura."

"Of course, you are," I smiled at her. "If I could do it, anyone can."


When Summers and I arrived in the ranch that evening, we found James loading the wagon, a preoccupied frown on his face. The sheriff expertly climbed down his horse, then helped me to descend.

"Safe and sound, Miss Howlett. As promised."

"Thank you, sheriff," I said, smoothing down my skirt. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Have a nice evening," he tipped his hat and mounted back on his horse. "Good to see you again, Logan."

James didn't bother to answer. As soon as the sheriff rode away, I walked over to him. "What's going on?"

"Pete and I are ridin' north to look for Kurt. He was supposed to be here a week ago."

"Do you think something happened with him?"

"I'm bettin' somethin' happened," Logan replied, and I immediately murmured a prayer for my Bavarian friend. "Sam will be stayin' in the house with ya an' Kitty, and LeBeau will help to patrol the ranch while we're away – he should be here soon. D'ya have your gun with ya?"

I touched my handbag. "Yes."

"Don't leave without it, Jean."

"I won't. What time are you leaving?"

"As soon as Pete's ready. I don't wanna lose any more time."

"I'll wrap up some food for you."

"Thanks."

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

"Always."

They left twenty minutes later. Katherine, Sam, Remy, and I had dinner, then Kitty and I went to our bedroom while Guthrie slept in the couch. LeBeau remained awake the whole night, a shotgun in his hand.

I dreamed of flames that night. Huge flames burning down the house, the crops, the whole ranch. Logan, Peter, Kurt, and Kitty tried to fight it while I did nothing but stared at it. My clothes were on fire, and still I remained impassive. Soon, there was nothing left but me standing naked on the hot ashes, and the recurring whisper that called to me… "Fire Bringer".