“I’m not the only one carrying secrets here after all, Eustacia.”
“What are you referring to?”
He took a step toward her. “I’m referring to the love letter you sent to Josiah the night before he married Eulalia. The love letter you wrote in which you begged him to leave her and come to you.”
The blood drained out of both their faces although Eulalia had a greenish tinge to her skin.
Unlike Eustacia, he took no pleasure in revealing what he knew. He had intended on never saying anything to Eulalia but it was necessary now.
No, his mind whispered. It wasn’t necessary. You wanted to hurt Eustacia as much as she did you.
Shame cascaded over his body.
“Lulu?” Eulalia whirled around, her lower lip trembling. “What is he talking about? You hate Josiah.”
Eustacia’s pale face then flooded with sudden color. Her eyes narrowed to mere slits at him. Nic knew that if looks could kill, he’d have been sliced into two. Without another word, she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Eulalia stared after her sister for a long moment. Then she inched around in a slow, painful arc of motion until she face him fully. “Why are all the people who I care about hurting me?”
“Am I included in that, Eulalia?” Nicander’s voice was low, gruff. “Do you truly care about me?”
Eulalia’s hands dropped to her side. “You know you are. That is why this hurt so much.”
Her feet led her over to where he stood, and she caressed his cheek. His eyes closed, and his hand gripped hers as if to keep her locked there.
“Is it true? Did Lulu—?”
The words were choked up as a sudden gasp took over. She couldn’t say it. All this time, Eustacia had pretended to hate her husband when really, she’d wanted him for herself.
“You need to talk to her about it,” Nicander answered quietly. “I only know what Josiah told me.”
He turned his mouth and kissed the inside of her palm. The heat of his lips warmed the center and in agony, she removed her hand from his grasp.
“Tell me about Guinevere. Please help me to understand.”
Although he hadn’t moved, she felt him draw away. A curious coldness drifted between them.
“I don’t know where to begin.” The prominent bulge in his throat bobbed up and down.
“Start when you were happy,” she suggested.
“Happy?” he made an odd sound that could mean anything. “We were happy for the first three years of our marriage. I truly don’t remember an unpleasant moment with her. Then, three years ago, Guinevere had an accident.”
“An accident?”
He nodded, turning and presenting her with his back. Tension lined his shoulders.
“What sort of accident?”
Nicander was silent for a long time. So long that Eulalia wondered if he intended on answering her question. Then, when she opened her mouth to prompt him, he said, “That’s the thing, Eulalia. I don’t know what type of accident. Even now, three years later, I can only assume she did.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’d come home that night, having been called to help with a fire that threatened to burn down a nursery. We were able to save it due to quick thinking and because it was so close.
“When I opened the door to our bedroom, I saw her lying on the floor, still as death. Her eyes closed. I fell to my knees beside her, thinking the worst. When I noticed she was still breathing I picked her up and carried her to the bed and then went to get the doctor. The doctor came and examined. He figured she’d come out of that strange sleep. Everyone prayed over and for her for the next two days. Then on the third day, she woke up.”
“You don’t know what happened that made her fall?”
Nicander rubbed the back of his neck. “All this time, that one piece of information has driven me insane. Guinevere couldn’t remember either. While she lay unconscious, I’d search the entire house. Nothing untoward revealed itself.
“For a couple of days after she’d awakened, everything seemed fine. Our lives went on. I’m not sure how long after that incident that I began to notice things that just weren’t right. Her temper, which had always been mild, would suddenly flare up at the tiniest provocation. She’d scream at me if I left a dish on the table or some article of clothing wasn’t put away.”
He glanced at her. “Not that I’m a messy man, Eulalia.”
“And?”
“Her fits of rage started to become more frequent. I remember one of the worst times. We were sitting at the dinner table, discussing nothing in particular. In fact, that entire time, she seemed like her old, calm self. The kind, generous woman I’d given my life to. At any rate, she’d made some remark, and I joked something to the effect of, ‘Don’t be silly’.”
Nicander paused and took in a shuddering breath.
“She turned into a harridan. A screeching, leaping harridan. Before I knew it, she’d snarled and swept all of the dishes on the floor. Then she started berating me, saying things I’d never thought I’d hear her say. Words I won’t repeat.”
His breath escalated. “I tried to calm her down, tried to talk soothingly to her. I didn’t understand why she was acting this way, but this was not my wife. The next thing I knew, she struck me.”
He flinched, and Eulalia knew from the stark bleakness in the air that he was reliving that moment.
“I couldn’t move for a moment. That’s how shocked I was. It wasn’t that it hurt, Eulalia. It was the fact that a woman who wouldn’t harm a fly, who would sometimes capture butterflies in her hand, or hold out her finger for a bird to land upon, had struck me.”
“Oh Nicander,” she moaned.
“From that moment on, things began to deteriorate. Her moods and her behavior became more unpredictable. There would be days where she’d be the woman I remembered, but those days became fewer and far between.
“It got worse from there.”
Eulalia tiptoed to stand in front of him. “How?”
His eyes bore into her own as if to compel her to listen, to hear his words. “You have to remember that whatever happened that day, when I found my wife on the floor, changed everything. Over time, I’ve come to the conclusion that she must have struck her head in a way that altered her personality.
“There were times when she even spoke about it.”
“About the day of her accident?”
Nicander shook his head. “About how she could tell she wasn’t the same person, but there was nothing she could do about it. She’d say a part of her would scream from the inside of her mind. Like a far-off voice in the distance. Often, she tried to fight the urges that over took her, the rage. The paranoia. And…other things.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his blue gray eyes looked flinty. Eulalia wondered if she’d should even ask “What other things?”
“Shall I say, my Guinevere met her Lancelot?”
“No!” Horror pricked her skin like ice cold raindrops.
“I can be honest with you about many things, Eulalia, but I beg you. Don’t ask me to bear my soul in that regard. Of all those things, I cannot talk about that.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Thank you. Although she had…turned her back on our vows, I could not. I take my vows quite seriously. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. But after I found out…I couldn’t…Lord, forgive me, I couldn’t. Even now, I know it wasn’t her fault and but I—I—”
Gently Eulalia lifted her fingers to his mouth. “You don’t have to explain to me, Nicander,” she whispered, her heart aching for his pain.
He stared, frozen in place as if he stopped breathing. Then with a guttural moan, he took a step back, letting her hand fall from him. “About a year after all this happened, Guinevere was the one who asked me to help her.”
“Why?”
“Because she almost killed me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Eulalia stroll
ed down the street to the Lucky Lady Saloon. She had no wish to go to this part of the town. She’d avoided dens of evil like this for as long as she could remember. Her aunt, in one of the rare episodes of outward emotion had honed in the fact that to visit the saloon was to fall into the den of iniquity.
Though she no longer held such a strict view, Eulalia still abhorred places like this. After all, what good could come from an establishment like this?
No, that wasn’t fair. Mrs. Flora McMillan was a prime example of what good could come from a place like this. During the disasters, she had opened her saloon and turned it into a clinic of sorts that Dr. Childs and some of the other soiled doves ran. Without her help, many people would not have received the treatment they needed.
Not to mention that Flora was God-fearing woman, always at the church, and always willing to help those who may shun her for her occupation.
Maybe she should be glad that the Lucky Lady Saloon was here. If it hadn’t been, then Eustacia would have to go further out of town to find herself in her favorite pastime: risking her meager earnings at a game of cards.
Saying a quick prayer to heaven, Eulalia gathered her courage along with the shawl she’d wrapped around her shoulders and pushed open the doors.
Eulalia wasn’t sure what to expect when she entered the place, but she saw a clean, and sparse saloon. A couple of the soiled doves lounged around while a card game was going on at a table toward the back of the room.
Eustacia’s chocolate hair picked up the gleam of the firelight above her. Flora sat at the head of the table, dealing cards, while a big man served drinks at the bar. Maybe it was a slow night, but she’d thought for sure a den of wickedness would look worse than this.
“Ah, Mrs. Pemberlay, so nice to see you.”
Flora’s voice carried over the expanse of the room. Eustacia’s head jerked up in surprise. Eulalia held her gaze for a long moment and then returned the saloon owner’s greeting.
“Mrs. MacMillan.”
The other men around the card table looked up as well. Very politely they tipped their hats and then returned to the game. Eustacia continued to hold Eulalia’s gaze with hers for a moment. And then, with a movement that suggested she forfeited the game, she tossed her money onto the middle of the table and then got up.
“I take it you believe we need to talk, don’t you Lolly?” Belligerence dripped from every word, but Eulalia saw past that to the fear and the uncertainty.
“I’d like to talk to you, Lulu.”
“I don’t want to talk, Lolly.” Eustacia looped a wrap around her shoulders, picked up her worn satchel, and started to make her way past Eulalia. “I’ll be gone in the morning so I need to get some sleep anyway.”
“Lulu, we need to talk, now.”
Her sister strolled right by her and out of the door. Eulalia squared her shoulders and then turned around, going after her. “Lulu!”
“What, Lolly?” Her sister whirled around. Her face contorted in something that should have been anger but resembled a starker emotion – anguish.
“Stop running away,” Eulalia said wearily. “Come back.”
“No,” Eustacia pivoted around and kept walking down the dark street. “There’s nothing for us to talk about. I’ll be gone in the morning and then—”
Eulalia ran, the sound of her feet against the ground loud to her ears at this time of night. Before Eustacia could do more than turn around, she’d caught up to her and wrapped her arms around her sister’s neck.
“Lulu,” she gasped. “Don’t go.”
“Let go of me,” Eustacia said, struggling against her hold.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me that you were in love with Josiah?”
The struggles against her hold ceased.
“Would it have made a difference?” Eustacia asked quietly. “He loved you. You chose each other. Did you think I’d want your pity?”
Eulalia pulled her arms from around Eustacia. “Do you think I would have pitied you?”
“Aren’t you doing that right now? Feeling sorry for your younger sister, the poor pathetic one.”
“You’re not pathetic, Lulu. Love doesn’t make any of us pathetic. It makes us vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable?” Eustacia spat the word out. “Vulnerable doesn’t begin to describe it. I feel exposed. As if my skin has been peeled back, showing my beating heart. I never wanted you to know. It was hard enough that Josiah knew and felt pity for me.”
In the soft flow of the moonlight above, Eulalia noted the wet glaze of her sister’s eyes. “Lulu, I thought you hated him.”
“I hated the fact that he took you from me. Think about it, Lolly. The Lord decided we were better together than apart. Who was Josiah to take you from me? What right did he have to separate us?”
“It wasn’t about rights, Lulu. Josiah loved me.”
“What about my love for you? We knew each other before our mother did.” Eustacia argued. “Remember when our love for each other sustained us when our aunt couldn’t have cared less if we lived or died? And Aunt! All she did was feed us and make sure we had clothes.” Eustacia huffed. “We might as well have been well-fed pets.”
“I don’t like thinking about those things anymore.” Memories which had long been locked away tried to surface. Of days and weeks on end when they wouldn’t see their aunt. Not because she wasn’t in the same house with them. She’d just refused to spend time with them.
“Of course you don’t, Lolly. You were able to heal from those terrible times. You had Josiah to come along and take you away from all that.”
Eustacia drew out of her arms. “I remember when you were fifteen and he came into our world. Aunt was furious at you for the first time in our lives. But he stood up to her, remember?”
“How can I forget?” He refused to accept her aunt’s restrictions on their courtship.
“From the moment he saw you, he wanted you. He was willing to do whatever it took to have you. I resented it, at first. But then, I saw the way he began to court you. How gentle he was. How sweet.” Eustacia’s head dropped. “I wanted it for myself.”
“Oh, Lulu,” Eulalia moaned.
“In all fairness, Josiah never treated me unkindly,” her twin sister admitted. “He treated me like a man would look after his sister.”
A gust of night wind blew, sending goosebumps along Eulalia’s exposed arms. “Lulu, come home. You don’t have to stay here in the saloon.”
Eustacia opened her mouth, more than likely to protest. Then, her shoulders drooped and the fight went out of her. Without a word, they turned and started the trek back home. Dark clouds overhead shadowed the moon. Eulalia, walking next to her twin, absorbed the melancholy exuding from her in palpable waves.
“I remember the first time Josiah kissed you,” Eustacia said unexpectedly into the quiet that had fallen between them.
Eulalia skidded to an abrupt stop. “You do?” Her eyebrow arched. “You were there, watching us?”
“Of course not, silly,” Eustacia scowled. “When you came home that day, you looked different. I took one look at you, and I knew. That green-eyed monster took a bite out of me that day. I was furious because it wasn’t me that Josiah had kissed.”
“I didn’t know you knew.” Eulalia’s cheeks flamed. It had been eleven years ago, but the fact that her sister had been knowledgeable about it still embarrassed her.
“I wanted what you had, Lolly. I wanted a man to care for me and take me away from Aunt like Josiah did for you.”
They walked on a bit more. The revelations of the past hour buffeted her like the harsh winds of a storm. Nicander’s marital farce, her sister’s true feelings, everything swarmed around her, threatening to converge on her like a tidal wave.
“For the record, Lolly, I no longer love Josiah. Not like I used to.”
“Well, he’s gone now.”
“No, you don’t understand. I don’t care for him like I used to. For many years, I was consumed by the rage of un
requited love. That was until you gave me my niece and nephew.” A small smile touched her face. “I had two little ones who loved me for me. I didn’t have to share their love with anyone. They have hearts big enough to share with everyone.”
“When did you realize this?”
“The day of your eighth wedding anniversary,” she told her. “I remember coming into town to celebrate. I had wondered if the feelings would leave me. That longing for Josiah that had devoured me for far too long. I saw you and him with the children. And instead of being upset about your happiness, I was basking in it.”
Eustacia slid a glance at her. “Maybe the way to get over jealousy is learning how to be happy for others.”
They came to the house and went inside. Eulalia checked on the children to see if they were still sleeping. By the sound of their light snores, nothing untoward had happened to them. Plus, she wasn’t gone that long anyway.
Sitting at the table, Eulalia shared a look with her twin. The other half of her soul.
“I will always love you, my sister.” She reached out and patted the back of her hand. “No one can take me from you.”
“It seems like they can,” Eustacia denied without heat. “Look at Nic.”
Eulalia’s eyes dropped away from her silver ones. “Nicander is married. He won’t be coming back here anymore.”
“What?”
“It’s as I said.” Her throat grew dry as despair swelled inside. “He and I talked. We cleared the air and have come to an understanding. I will release him from his obligation to look after me.”
“What about Josiah’s command? The promise he forced you to make?”
Tears stung the back of her eyes. Eulalia got up and walked to the back door of the kitchen and opened it. The clouds parted for a moment, letting the light of the moon shine down upon the earth in a cascade of silver light.
“Josiah meant well,” Eulalia answered. She closed her eyes and let one drop of liquid escape and trail itself down her cheek.
One tear to mourn the end of a forbidden relationship she never had any right to even contemplate.
One silent sob to herald the death knell of a friendship.
Wanted- Fire Chief Page 7
