The Whippoorwill Trilogy

by Sharon Sala

  “I can’t,” Mary said.

  Both Dooley and Letty exhaled as if they’d been gut-punched.

  “At least not until I confess my whole sin,” Mary added.

  Both of them drew a new breath, taking fresh heart.

  “That’s not necessary,” Dooley said. “I know about you and Joe Carver.”

  Mary paled. “But how?”

  Dooley shrugged. “Mostly people don’t pay me any mind, which usually means they say stuff around me that they might not say around others.”

  “You knew and you’d still consider me for—”

  Dooley put one huge finger across her lips, silencing her before she could finish.

  “Miss Mary, I would consider you just about the prettiest, sweetest thing this side of heaven. I reckon that cowboy took advantage of your innocence and lied to you to have his way.”

  Mary sighed. She could stand there and let him believe that and then have to live with the lie. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  “No, Dooley. It wasn’t quite like that. I suppose he lied to me, all right. But he didn’t force himself upon me. I fancied myself in love with him and, and…” She shrugged.

  “Do you love him, still?”

  Mary frowned. “No.”

  “Do you reckon you’ll be able to love that babe you’re carryin’?”

  “I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

  Dooley nodded. “Fair enough. Well, if after it gets here and you find that you can’t, I reckon I’ll pick up the slack.”

  Again, Letty was struck by the strength of true love and wondered why she had been cursed to spend her life alone. Of course, technically she wasn’t really alone. There was Eulis. But they would surely never be able to share anything but the lie that bound them to each other.

  “So?” Letty urged.

  Mary’s eyes welled up again, only this time with shy, growing joy. This morning she’d planned her death. Tonight she would be planning her wedding. Sometimes life was just too confusing to explain. She looked at Dooley, and then nodded and managed a weak smile.

  “Yes, Dooley Pilchard, I would be most honored to be your wife, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure that you never want for companionship or comfort for as long as you live.”

  Dooley felt like shouting the news to the whole town. Instead, he tucked Mary’s hand in the crook of his elbow.

  “Then I reckon we’d better go have a talk with your Pa.”

  “Thank goodness,” Letty muttered, and thought to add. “My, uh… traveling companion, Reverend Howe, is a minister. He’ll be happy to perform the wedding. We’ll be staying at the hotel for the next two days. Just let us know.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Dooley said, as Letty strode away, confident that she’d completed her mission in true godly fashion.

  “Don’t tell Father that I’m with child,” Mary begged.

  “I won’t tell him anything but the truth,” Dooley said.

  Mary paled. “And the truth is?”

  “That I’ve been in love with his oldest daughter ever since she quit wearing pigtails.”

  “Truly?” Mary asked.

  “Yes, truly,” Dooley answered.

  The horrible weight in her heart began to shift and lessen. By the time they reached the dry goods store, she was smiling.

  In Sickness And In Health

  Harvey Ditsworth, the barber, dashed into Farmer’s Dry Goods, yelling as he ran.

  “Myron! Myron! Come quick. Mary has been in an accident!”

  Myron Farmer dropped the bolt of cloth he was holding and ran out from behind the counter.

  “What happened?” he asked as he followed Harvey out the door.

  “The stage. Someone said she fell under the stage.”

  Myron stopped. It felt as if all the bones in his legs had just turned to mush. How could this happen? Only minutes before she’d been in the store waiting on customers. When she’d disappeared so suddenly, he’d assumed she had gone to use the facilities. This just couldn’t be! He couldn’t bear to think of his beautiful daughter all mangled and bloody.

  “Dear lord… no!” Then he thought of his wife. “Mama. Mary will be wanting her Mama.”

  “Wait!” Harvey said, and grabbed Myron by the arm. “Look there! Dooley Pilchard is bringing Mary home.”

  As they watched, Mary stumbled. Dooley promptly picked her up in his arms and began carrying her.

  Myron gasped. Seeing her alive and walking when only moments before he’d been preparing himself for the worst was such a relief that he burst into tears and ran toward her.

  Mary was still in shock, both from surviving the accident and accepting Dooley’s proposal. When she saw her father and Harvey, she stumbled.

  Dooley caught her before she could fall and picked her up in his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, conscious of her weight and his limp.

  “I’m not,” he said softly, which made her blush.

  “My father. Someone must have told him about the stage.”

  “Accidents happen.”

  Mary studied on what Dooley just said and decided there were no underlying meanings. Dooley Pilchard was too straightforward to be referring to her pregnancy.

  “Yes. That’s right. Accidents happen.”

  It was all they had time to say before Myron Farmer’s arrival.

  Myron took one look at the abrasions on Mary’s face and the condition of her clothing and knew what he’d just been told must be true.

  “Is it true? Did you fall beneath the stage?”

  She hesitated just a moment too long for Dooley.

  “Well sir, Mr. Farmer, I saw it all. She miss-stepped and fell right off the sidewalk into the path of the oncoming stage. But she’s fine now as you can see.”

  Mary gently patted Dooley’s chest.

  “Because of you,” she said softly. “And you can put me down. I can walk the rest of the way home.”

  “No. I reckon I’ll be carrying you… just to make sure,” Dooley said.

  Mary blushed.

  Myron frowned as he looked from Mary’s clothes to Dooley’s clothes, then from the abrasions on her face to the same sort of wounds on his face and hands.

  “I say, Dooley! Was it you? Did you save our Mary?”

  Mary nodded. “Yes, Father. It all happened so fast I hardly remember it well, but I know he caught me and held me tight with one hand, and caught the team’s harness with his other until the stagecoach driver could stop.”

  Myron threw up his hands and began crying anew, embarrassing Dooley to no end. He wasn’t accustomed to crying people, especially men.

  “I just happened to be there,” Dooley said. “And I reckon we better get Miss Mary home and see to her face.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Myron said. “Follow me.”

  Dooley did, still carrying the woman who was going to be his wife. He hadn’t completely absorbed the impact of all that had happened in the last thirty minutes, but he knew his life would never be the same. Then he looked down at Mary, remembered the loneliness of his life and decided that would be just fine.

  Myron hurried into the store to find his wife waiting on a customer.

  “Mother! Mary has had an accident.”

  Elizabeth Farmer gasped as she saw the huge blacksmith carrying Mary into the store.

  “Oh dear!” she cried, and ran to Mary. “What happened?”

  “She fell off the sidewalk in front of the oncoming stage,” Dooley said, feeling more and more comfortable with his part in the lie.

  “Dooley saved me,” Mary added, thankful that her part in the story was still the truth.

  “Thank God and thank you,” Elizabeth said, and hugged them both. “Can you bring her upstairs?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I reckon I’d be happy to.”

  Then Elizabeth remembered her customer. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dewar. I’ll get your order right now.”

  The banker’s wife shook her head. “No,
no. I can come back later. You tend to your child.” She patted Mary’s arm. “You are a very lucky young woman, and you sir, are a brave young man to do what you’ve done. You should be honored.”

  “That’s not necessary, Mrs. Dewar. I just happened to be there,” Dooley said, and carried Mary up the stairs, with both parents following closely behind.

  Mary felt bereft when Dooley put her down, and realized how safe she’d felt in his arms. She watched him trying to get out of the way as her parents hovered around her and suddenly realized how big he really was. His shoulders were almost as wide as her door and he had to bend his head slightly so as not to bump the ceiling. Thanks to the persistence of the recently departed Joseph Carver, she knew what went on between a man and a woman and wondered what it would be like being married to this giant of a man. Would he hurt her? Would he demand things of her that she couldn’t fulfill? Then she caught him looking at her with those gentle blue eyes and knew he could do none of those things. In that moment, her heart felt full.

  “Mother. Father. I have something to tell you.”

  They stilled. Dooley looked nervous.

  “Dooley Pilchard has asked for my hand in marriage and I have given him my consent.”

  Elizabeth and Myron gasped in unison, then turned and stared at the hairy giant in their daughter’s room and instinctively moved until they were standing between him and Mary’s bed.

  “No,” Myron said. “I’m sorry, but you must understand that is out of the question. You’re too young and he’s… he’s…”

  Dooley had been expecting this. After all, it had to appear to Mary’s parents as if he and Mary had both lost their minds.

  “I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said. “We so appreciate what you did for our Mary, but under the circumstances, you must see that—”

  Anger surged. They were dismissing Dooley as of consequence and solely because of his rough appearance.

  “No, Mother! Father! It’s you who don’t understand.”

  Dooley reached forward, intent on saving her from admitting her shame.

  “Mary, you don’t have to.”

  Mary winced as she got out of bed, but she was intent on standing her ground.

  “Yes, Dooley, I do have to. I won’t have them saying anything against you when it’s I who have a reason for shame.”

  Dooley sighed.

  “Mary, what are you trying to say?” Myron asked.

  Mary faced her parents. “I will marry Dooley. I will because I must. I am with child and the father is dead. Dooley has learned of my plight and offered to marry me… to care for me and my child.”

  Elizabeth covered her face and turned away while Myron sat down on Mary’s bed with a thump.

  “Dead? Who could it be?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Mary said.

  Myron’s face turned a dark angry red.

  “It does to me. No one has died around here in months except—”

  Mary flinched.

  Myron stood. “No. Not him.”

  Elizabeth turned. “What are you…” Then it hit her. “The cowboy?”

  Mary slumped. Dooley put his arm around her.

  “I can’t believe you have brought such shame upon us,” Myron muttered.

  Dooley frowned. “Well sir, that’s just it. If you and your wife keep your mouth shut, no one has ever a need to know. And I won’t have Mary’s name bandied about. I care for her, sir, and in time, maybe she will come to care for me.”

  Myron pointed at Dooley. “I say, Dooley. We’re her parents and you have no right to—”

  Mary pushed his hand away. “No, Father, he has all the right he needs to speak for me. I have said I will marry him, and I do so with pride. It’s more than I deserve, but I will spend my life in thanksgiving for what he’s doing.”

  Dooley pulled her close. “I don’t want your thanks, Mary girl.”

  Elizabeth was in tears as she looked at her eldest child.

  “What’s done is done,” she said. “But there’s no preacher to perform the ceremony.”

  “Actually, one came in on the stage that nearly ran Mary down,” Dooley said.

  Mary looked up at him.

  “Will you speak to him… see if he can perform the ceremony tonight?”

  Dooley’s heart surged all the way to his throat. Tonight he would sleep with Mary Farmer in his arms. It seemed too good to be true.

  “Yes, Mary. I’ll speak to him.” Then he tipped his hat to Mary’s parents. “I’ll be back, but before I go, I must ask you not to berate your daughter any more. She’s already suffered far more than you can imagine and it’s only by the grace of God that you still have her with you. Be thankful for the arrival of your first grandchild instead of grieving for the loss of Mary’s innocence.”

  He looked at Mary one last time. When she smiled at him, he nodded then left.

  Mary’s heart surged as she watched him go and knew that she’d just been given a second chance. Then she turned to her mother.

  “Mother, will you help me clean my wounds? I want to look as decent as possible for the ceremony tonight.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, of course, Mary dear. Myron, go downstairs and bring up some of that witch hazel and some clean rags from the back room. I’m going to my room to get my wedding dress out of the trunk. I don’t have much time if it’s going to need any alterations.”

  Mary sat down on the bed with a thump as her parents left in two different directions. The silence was startling, even lonely, but she knew that because of Dooley’s big heart, she would be able to keep her good name and after today, she would never be lonely again.

  Letty was still wearing a smug expression as she settled into her hotel room. This business of doing God’s work seemed simple. All she had to do was to identify the problem and fix it. It didn’t occur to her that while she was meddling in other people’s business she was ignoring the mess in her own.

  She had taken her good dress out of her carpet bag and was in the act of hanging it in the armoire when there was a knock at her door. Assuming it would be Eulis, she opened it wide.

  It wasn’t Eulis, and it wasn’t good news. In fact, it was her worst fear that had come knocking.

  The man had at least a four-day growth of beard and six months past needing a haircut. His hat was sweat-stained and crumpled—the kind that served as a shade or a bucket, whichever was necessary at the time. He was wearing a dusty shirt and even dustier pants. His boots were scuffed and run down at the heels, but the guns strapped to his hips hung loose and low and the smile on his face was a go-to-hell grin that she’d seen many times before. She wasn’t sure, but she thought his name was Willy or Billy or something like that.

  “Letty… it is you!”

  She frowned and pretended indignation, which was difficult because she distinctly remembered he had a mole on his dingus that he called Spot.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but you have mistaken me for someone else.”

  The smile slid sideways. “But you look just like—”

  “I have that kind of face,” Letty said, and closed the door in his face.

  “Oh lord,” Letty muttered, and sat down on her bed with a thump. What was she to do? They couldn’t leave every time they ran into someone from their past or they’d be running for life.

  A knock sounded on the door again. She frowned.

  “Who is it, please?”

  “It me,” Eulis said.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.”

  Letty opened the door, grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him inside before shutting the door behind him.

  Eulis glared. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” Letty said, and then threw up her hands and started pacing the floor. “That’s not exactly true. Someone who knew me from Lizard Flats just knocked on my door.”

  Eulis groaned. “We’re found out. It was bound to happen.”

  “No, no, that’s not so,” Letty said. “I tol
d him he was mistaken. I think he bought it. I mean… I don’t look exactly like I used to, you know.”

  Eulis looked at her and squinted, as if trying to assess her now against the way she’d been at the White Dove Saloon. She was minus the red feathers she used to wear in her hair, and her dress didn’t exactly bare all her charms. And her face was scrubbed clean as opposed to that lip rouge and black stuff she used to put on her eyes.

  “Yeah, I reckon you’re right.”

  Letty nodded. “Of course I’m right. I’m always right.”

  Eulis frowned. “That ain’t exactly so. Remember the time you—”

  Letty slapped him on the shoulder.

  “I do not wish to be reminded of the dark deeds of my past. I have been saved, remember?”

  Eulis thought of the baptism he’d performed on her in a moss-covered watering trough down at the Lizard Flats livery stable and sighed.

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Then what should we do about the cowboy?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “What do you want me to do?” Eulis asked. “And before you ask, I ain’t diggin’ you no grave to hide another body in.”

  Letty grabbed Eulis by the collar and shoved him up against the wall.

  “Didn’t we just agree not to discuss my past?”

  Eulis batted at her hands, trying to dislodge them from around his throat.

  “Dang it, Letty, you’re shuttin’ off the air to my gizzard. Let go. I say, let go.”

  “Not ’til you promise you’ll never talk about Lizard Flats again.”

  “I promise. I swear to God, I promise.”

  Letty frowned. “You bein’ a preacher and all, I don’t think you oughta be swearin’ anything to God.”

  “Oh yeah… right. I’m sorry. It was just a figure of speech, you know. I’ll watch it better from now on.”

  “So, what did you want?” Letty asked.

  Eulis frowned. “When?”

  Letty rolled her eyes. “You knocked on my door. You had to have a reason.”

  Eulis slapped himself up beside his head and then laughed.