by Bettie Jane
Sadie’s aching heart softened at Henrietta’s kindness.
“That is so thoughtful of you, truly. It has been a bit lonely and overwhelming.”
“May I sit with you for a few moments?”
“Please. I’d welcome the company. You’ve had the flu, I’m guessing, or you wouldn’t be here?”
Henrietta nodded. “I have. Our family was fortunate. We all had it, but everyone survived. Most families in town weren’t so fortunate.”
A comfortable silence filled the air between them and neither woman made a move to fill it for a few minutes.
“Little Jemmie is a hero, did you know? He blew the dog whistle when we were at the Phillips farm earlier. When Joel blew it that night at your house, your dog acted the same way the Phillips’ dog had. That’s what made me suspect he was there.”
“Jemmie is a very clever boy. Joel told me that Jemmie kept Joel from being taken that day. He told Joel to be quiet and hide. I’m so proud of both of my sons. So different, but both with such good hearts.”
“I’m glad they are both home safe with you.”
More silence, although comfortable sat with them for a bit.
“Can I ask a question, Mrs. Brix?”
“Only if you promise to call me Henrietta.”
Sadie laughed. “You have a deal.”
“What is the bad blood between Oscar and Sam Ostervold?”
Henrietta’s smile instantly changed into a frown.
“What makes you ask that?”
“That day we were searching for Jemmie, we saw Sam and he was more than eager to help out in the search. Said he’d ‘do anything for Henrietta and the children’ but based on the tone he used when referencing your husband, I got the sense that there was a negative history there?”
Henrietta let out a long sigh. “Sam’s got a long memory, it seems.”
Neither said anything. Sadie chose to wait it out and see if Henrietta would open up about it at all.
“There was a time when I was promised to marry Sam. It was long time ago.”
Henrietta had a far away look in her eyes. “It’s a long story, but the two never got over their animosity.”
“You chose Oscar instad of Sam?”
“Someday, I’ll tell you the whole story over tea. I don’t think I’ve got it in me today to relive it.”
“That’s fair enough. I hope you don’t think I’m prying. I was just surprised at the level of tension between the two of them.”
Henrietta waived a dismissive hand. “Not at all. It’s nothing the whole town doesn’t already know about. You know, I think that’s part of why some of the folks have such a tough time with newcomers. Undoubtedly, they’ve all got something from their past buried and newcomers have a way of asking questions and stirring up things most people would rather leave in the past.”
“Ah, I can understand that, I suppose.”
Henrietta stood. “When Daniel is well and back home, you must come for tea and I’ll do what I can to fill you in on the relevant gossip. After all, as Sheriff’s wife, you really should know some of this. If you ever find yourself in this position again…”
Her voice trailed off because neither of them wanted to think about what it might mean if Sadie had to perform in Daniel’s stead again.
“Anyway, I should get back home. Do you mind if I come again in a couple of days if Daniel hasn’t been released?”
Sadie smiled. “That would be lovely. Henrietta,” she paused, then the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I really needed a friend. Thank you.”
Sadie’s heart had softened against her will and it seemed as though Henrietta Brix found her way in.
Henrietta’s footsteps echoed down the hallway and Sadie caught herself thinking that maybe this small town life wouldn’t be so bad after all.
20
Henrietta never made it back to the hospital to visit with Sadie because Daniel took his last breath later that night.
A week had passed and now she sat next to Henrietta, both of them dressed in black, in the very same church where she’d endured a Daughters of the American Revolution meeting barely more than a week ago.
Margaret Butler and the rest still gaped at her, but this time it was with a mixture of pity and judgement. Sadie didn’t bother to stare back in defiance like she had the week before. She had no fight left in her.
This funeral, though smaller, was not unlike the ones she’d attended for her mother and father only a few months earlier. It seemed the fresh start she’d hoped for in moving upriver was not to be.
A minister stood up front, babbling on about eternal perspective, but Sadie’s attention was on Olivia who sat on the other front pew just across the aisle. Sadie knew first hand what it was to bury a father so a part of her had already forgiven Olivia for the vicious things she’d said to her just before the service began.
The rain had dissipated and even though it was cold, Sadie decided to walk the two blocks the church where the service would be. As she climbed the steps, mostly not seeing as she walked, Olivia approached her and pointed aggressively at Sadie’s face.
“You’ll get nothing, you gold-digger. Not a single penny. I know that’s why you married him and you won’t see a sent. My lawyer will contact you tomorrow and let you know how long you have to vacate my father’s home.”
Sadie blinked and stared at the pulpit again. It seemed the minister had finished speaking and those in attendance were singing Amazing Grace.
She’d been uncertain what to do, now that Daniel was gone. She supposed she would have a bit of time to make up her mind, but after the confrontation on the church steps with Olivia, a plan began to cement itself in her mind.
She made a mental note to ask Henrietta for help. But that was for tomorrow.
Today was for saying goodbye to Daniel.
When the service moved up the hill to the cemetery, Henrietta insisted on giving Sadie a ride. Sadie didn’t have the energy to fight it.
Standing over the grave site, numbly watching those in attendance lay a flower or scoop a handful of dirt into Daniel’s grave, she allowed herself to have a final think about Daniel Anderson, the man who’d found a lost, grieving woman and offered her home and solace.
She remembered his shy, very practical proposal. She remembered that he was nervous. She also remembered that she was too numb from her parents’ deaths to be nervous herself. She’d never been married and so should have felt at least something at the idea of marrying this stranger from upriver, but he was kind and she was sad and so they were married at the courthouse here on Main Street. True to his word, he’d cared for her, welcomed her into his life, and made her a member of his family. He gave her the one thing she didn’t know she needed.
Someone to love.
In time, Sadie thought, watching the mourners drift away from the gravesite, she thought she could have come to truly love him. Time that it seemed they wouldn’t have.
Sadie sat there, with Henrietta by her side, until everyone else was gone. Even the minister. She was vaguely aware of people speaking to her, offering their condolences, but she didn’t really hear what any of them were saying.
“Sadie, darling. It’s starting to rain. Are you ready to go or would you like to sit here a little while longer? I have an umbrella in the car if you want to stay. I’ll be here with you, whatever you decide.”
Sadie pulled herself back from the edge of whatever abyss she’d been staring into and willed herself to listen, to pay attention.
“Olivia’s gone.”
“Yes.”
“She hates me.”
Henrietta didn’t say anything, which was better than insulting her with a trite denial. It was obvious to even the most unaware onlooker that Olivia Anderson had nothing but spite for her.
After a few more moments—maybe longer, Sadie was not doing well keeping track of time—she felt Henrietta place something in her hand. She looked down to see Daniel’s silver star badge.
“Joel wanted you to have it.”
Sadie hadn’t cried yet. Not in the hospital, not on the rain-soaked, depressingly gray and cold ferry ride home alone, not the first night alone in the house without Daniel. Tears were too far away, and, she knew from personal experience, that they were also extremely useless.
No point crying over spilled milk, her grandmother always used to say.
But, now, the tiny gesture from a young boy, brought all the grief of the last months to this tender moment at her husband’s grave, and Sadie leaned into Henrietta and cried for everything she’d lost, every potential unrealized, every bitter thing in the entire world. She cried on her new friend until she was out of tears and out of feeling.
Then, she squared her shoulders, took several steadying breaths, clutched Daniel’s star in her hand—a symbol of all that was good in the world, a reminder that people like Daniel and Joel and Jemmie and Henrietta existed in the world to buffer the insurmountable burdens of pain—and she stood.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to need your help. I know what I need to do next.”
“Of course, Sadie, anything at all.”
“But today, today is for Daniel. Let’s get to the Columbia Saloon and drink some of my late father’s favorite bourbon in honor of my now late husband.”
The short drive to the saloon took only minutes and, as faithful a friend as always, William was ready for her with a shot glass. He pulled out another for Henrietta, practically without skipping a beat when she said, “I’ll have what she’s having.”
Enoch, Gus, Henrietta, William, even Frederick Birnie and Deputy Fisher sat with them throughout the afternoon. They all regaled her with wonderful and terrible and silly tales of things Daniel had done or said over the course of his life in this little town and she knew the way they loved him and remembered him would make this all a bit more bearable.
They didn’t know it yet, but tomorrow, she would leave Cathlamet and return to the memory of her parents at the Deep Water Inn. A memory she was finally ready to face.
She raised her glass to the motley crew around the table.
“To good friends and impossible memories.”
They all drank and smiled, echoing her toast and she swallowed the tears that threatened to overtake her.
She set the shot glass down and stood up, insisting that she needed to be alone and that everyone should stay and honor Daniel.
She walked out of the Columbia Saloon and down Main Street toward the home she shared with Daniel.
One more night, surrounded by the memory of a life not to be and then she would catch the morning ferry to Astoria.
If Sadie Elouise Anderson had her way, she’d never set foot in this town again.
About the Author
Bettie Jane writes historical cozy mysteries with a dash of suspense.
Also by Bettie Jane
Hettie and Ro Adventures
Piccadilly Ladies Club Mysteries
