Free Bitter Eden by Sharon Anne Salvato Page A

screamed wildly as the footman came for her from one side and another man stalked her from the opposite side. The oil lamp wavered and smoked dangerously as she grabbed it, holding it aloft. She thrust it first at one man, then the other. "Dont come near me! No!" Her voice was shrill and hysterical. "Stay away! Mrs. Pettibone! Help me!" She threw the lamp, missing the footman by several feet. The oil spilled across the floor, and gold and blue flames ran rapidly along its trail. Overturning the table, she ran for the door. One of the men pushed past her, fleeing as the noise downstairs became more angry and insistent. The footman lunged to put out the fire. The third man grabbed Callie by the hair, his large dirty hand closing over her mouth.
    Everything became a scattered blur of panic-filled impressions as policemen raced up the stairs. Callie was flung to the floor as the white slavers thundered toward the outside stairway, and Mrs. Peach and Mrs. Pettibone and the girls alternately screamed in fright or rage. Callie crawled along the floor, seeking the shelter of the bed again.
    Mrs. Pettibone was the last to make her way up the stairs to Callies room. Callie, huddled beneath the

    bed, repeated hopelessly, Tm here. Tm here. Don't leave me, please don't leave me."
    When Mrs. Pettibone's sturdy shoes appeared at the edge of the bed, Callie began to cry harder. Mrs. Pet-tibone called to her, and still the girl did not come out. Straining, the landlady went down on her hands and knees and peered under the bed skirt "Lord, child, what's come of you? They didn't . . "
    "Yes! Yes! He . . . he . . . touched me . . . Mrs. Pettibone . . . help me!"
    Mrs. Pettibone's first instinct was to get Callie home, into warm clothes and filled with hot tea and broth. Then she would try to make some sense of the girl's ravings. God forbid the girl had been violated. Most likely the Bereans would turn her out in the cold without a hearing if that were the case. Not a decent family in England would want her for anything but a menial. There would be no future for her.
    It took far more than Mrs. Pettibone had planned to calm Callie, and she got no rational response from her. At her wit's end, Mrs. Pettibone called for the doctor. Finally a draught from him and several nights' sleep began to restore Callie.
    It was a week before Callie awakened without having had a nightmare tear her from sleep. Mrs. Pettibone approached her warily, not trusting this first calm morning. Callie ate a light breakfast, then fell back against the pillows wan and shaken. "Are you feeling better, Callie?" she asked.
    Callie nodded.
    "Well, I've some news for you if you've a mind to listen."
    Callie looked at her, fear showing plainly in her blue eyes.

    "Tosh, girl. All news is not bad! This is good." Mrs. Pettibone told Callie of the letter she had written to the Bereans.
    Callie shuddered. "Do you know these people, Mrs. Pettibone?"
    "No, I don't, but your father spoke of them often enough. He must have thought well of them. You'll be safe and sound now."
    Callie's words ran together. "Are you sure though? Are they cousins? I've never met anyone named Be-rean. Papa said nothing to me. If they were really cousins wouldn't he have told me?"
    Mrs. Pettibone sighed, not knowing what to do. She couldn't blame the girl. Mildly she wished Ian had had the good grace to die somewhere else, not leaving Callie on her hands. "They'll be giving you a home, and that's what you need. It's what you've been wanting. Well, now here it is."
    "But are they really my cousins!?" Callie shouted. "How do I know they are not just like Mrs. Peach? I thought she was wonderful. She acted like it. I thought she cared. I thought . . ." She burst into tears, and Mrs. Pettibone came around to the side of the bed, gathering her into her arms.
    "Hush now, Callie. It's enough. You got a long taste of wormwood, and that was all. Not all the world is as sweet as it tastes at first. Some of the sweetest