by Ember Pierce
* * *
“Like what?” Bonny asked.
* * *
Kristian shrugged. He seemed to be grasping for something that he couldn’t quite articulate.
* * *
She wanted him to tell her all the things that he had been keeping in. This was where she wanted him to be the most honest with her.
* * *
“I don’t know,” he said. “Pain, maybe?”
* * *
“I don’t think that pain is an excuse to get drunk every day and make the people around you, your family, be responsible for you when you are like that.
* * *
“I’m just glad that we don’t have to deal with that,” Bonny said, and she meant every word.
* * *
This was the honesty that she had needed to share with her husband. This was the thing that made her who she was.
* * *
All those years dealing with her father had brought her to this conclusion.
* * *
From the look on Kristian’s face, Bonny knew that she had said something that had bothered him. He looked…. nervous.
* * *
Still, he gave her a smile and said, “Yep, we don’t have to worry about that. I’m a real teetotaller.”
18
After their buggy ride, Bonny felt like things were getting back on track. She decided that having a fight could be a good thing, because it put her concerns out in the open.
* * *
Kristian still seemed evasive about his time in town, but each night he worked his livery shift and came home right away. She decided that trusting him made the most sense to her.
* * *
Besides, he never smelled of whiskey, so she figured that was good enough. But something was nagging at him, and it was clearly something he didn’t want to discuss.
* * *
He was saying the right things, most of the time, and smiling at the right moments, most of the time, and acting generally like a husband who enjoyed being with his wife, most of the time.
* * *
Still, there was something she couldn’t put her finger on.
* * *
She had not been his wife for a long time and couldn’t be expected to know everything about him, or everything about how he acted all the time. She was puzzled.
* * *
In the grocery store, owner Even Hallistom had a fine gold clock. It was inside a silver, circular globe, and the gold numbers always sparkled.
* * *
She had remarked on how nice a clock it was and how it impressed her whenever she saw it. He thanked her and said the clock had been with him for more than twenty-five years.
* * *
Customers could hear the ticks of the clock when they walked by. Hallistom mentioned he could sense if something was wrong with the clock by the ticks.
* * *
Regular customers couldn’t tell the difference, but he could. He was an expert on the rhythms of the clock.
* * *
Bonny wondered if that was the situation with Kristian. There was something slightly off—not by much, just a little—but the situation wasn’t ticking perfectly.
* * *
It bothered her, but she didn’t think she should say anything yet. Besides, what could she say to him? “Excuse me, Kristian, your clock isn’t ticking perfectly.”
* * *
Perhaps it would straighten itself out. Maybe it was just a routine matter that she would have no interest in.
* * *
By Saturday, Bonny was sorry that she had dumped out the popover dough, and decided to make another batch. She thought it was ironic that this was the same thing she had been doing a week ago.
* * *
Though not overwhelmingly superstitious, the thought did occur to her that maybe she was tempting fate.
* * *
Her mother always laughed at her when she insisted on changing one tiny part of something—a recipe, a routine—so that the outcome would be different. Tonight, she decided to add a dash of cinnamon.
* * *
She could cut up some of the early apples that she’d seen in the tiny orchard on the ranch. That would make a nice breakfast.
* * *
Or perhaps they would go out for another buggy ride. Then she could bring the popovers she’d made for a picnic dinner.
* * *
She had finished the first part of the recipe and had left the dough to rise when she heard the sound of voices outside.
* * *
Stepping into the warm evening air, she peered toward her in-laws’ house. Her heart leapt to see Kristian standing on their porch with his father.
* * *
From what she could see, it looked as if Kristian was getting paid. He had mentioned to her that he would be getting paid from both jobs on Saturday.
* * *
Bonny headed back into the house and went to sit in the rocking chair. She wished she had something to put over the fire so that something delicious would be baking when Kristian came in.
* * *
Instead, she picked up her crocheting and continued working on another pair of mittens. She planned to line these with rabbit fur so they would be extra warm for the harshest of winter days.
* * *
Kristian came in then, and like always, hung his hat on the peg by the door. “Evening,” he said as he headed for the shelf in their tiny kitchen area.
* * *
She watched him reach for the cookie tin where he kept all the money he’d been earning.
* * *
There weren’t many places to hide money in their house, and the more he earned, the more Bonny worried about having so much cash in one place. She felt exposed, vulnerable.
* * *
“Evening,” she replied. He seemed like he was in a good mood, but he was quiet.
* * *
Knowing that she didn’t want to start another fight, but knowing that she needed to have a say in all the things going on in their lives, she continued, “Kristian? Are you going to put that money in the bank soon?”
* * *
He stilled and since his back was to her, she couldn’t see what he was thinking. Then, quietly, he said, “No.”
* * *
At first, she didn’t think she had heard him correctly, but when she realized that she had heard him and that he seemed serious, she felt a flutter of panic in her chest, like a bird’s wings beating against her rib cage.
* * *
“No?” she repeated. “Why not?”
* * *
He turned around then to look at her, and she could see the exhaustion and stress lining his face. She wanted to go to him, hug him, and draw him to his chair where he could rest.
* * *
Instead, she balled her hands into fists and pressed them hard into her sides to keep her from saying something that would cause them to argue again.
* * *
With a sigh that sounded soul-deep, Kristian crossed the cabin and sank down into his rocking chair. He ran a hand over his face, and said, “I’m just not, that’s all.
* * *
“It’s not enough to bother taking it to the bank. Besides, when do I have the time to do that?
* * *
“I can’t take off time from the ranch work and by the time I get to town for my livery shift, the bank is closed.”
* * *
He looked at her hopefully then, and she felt the panic increase. While his logic was sound, the look in his eyes gave him away.
* * *
Katie used to do the exact same thing when she was ramping up to tell a big lie. She’d sprinkle in solid logic and just enough truth to throw Bonny off.
* * *
Then, she would slide in the lie, followed by more logic and truth. It had taken her years, but by the time she’d left Philadelphia, Bonny had gotten quite good at spotting the lies.
* * *
“It j
ust seems foolish to have so much money in the house,” she said, hoping her statement was neutral enough to make it seem like she’d just thought of it.
* * *
Bonny had been thinking about what to say to Kristian all day. She knew she was going to have to confront the issue with her husband, but she also knew that getting the truth out of him would be difficult.
* * *
For the most part, Bonny trusted him, but she could tell that there was something that he was keeping from her.
* * *
Kristian looked over at her and she could see the exhaustion written on his face. “I don’t know, maybe?”
* * *
He leaned his head back against the rocking chair and closed his eyes. Feeling sorry for him wasn’t going to solve their problems—she knew that—but it did soften her heart toward him significantly.
* * *
She caught herself before she said anything that she would regret.
* * *
“Honey?” she said. “Please, tell me what’s going on. I know that you’re keeping something from me.
* * *
“I’m not mad about it, but I need to know. We’re partners. I need to be able to support you through all of your troubles.”
* * *
Kristian opened his eyes. He still looked weary, but there was a glimmer in his gaze that made Bonny hopeful that he would actually open up.
* * *
He sighed and closed his eyes again. Even though Bonny wanted to say something, she bit her tongue. Staying quiet had never been her strong suit.
* * *
When his eyes opened again, he seemed resigned—but to what, she didn’t know. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he began, and Bonny felt a shot of panic through her stomach.
* * *
Why tell her not to worry? That just made her worry more.
* * *
“I got into some trouble before you came here. It’s just stupid stuff with one of the other men in town. I’m getting out of it, though. You don’t need to worry. And, please, don’t ask me about it again.”
* * *
Bonny sat back in her rocking chair, the swaying suddenly making her feel sick. She threaded her hands together on her lap, and tried to stop their shaking.
* * *
Looking at Kristian, Bonny knew that there was nothing she could say that would make him share more with her.
* * *
“I’m going to go to bed,” Kristian said. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and she felt a delicious shiver race through her body.
* * *
As she watched him go into their bedroom, her stomach twisted with worry, but she decided to let it go. There would be time enough to talk tomorrow.
* * *
For now, she needed to do something to calm herself down. She stood and began to pace across the small cabin. There were no chores that she could do so late at night.
* * *
When her path took her to the kitchen, she found herself staring at the cookie jar where Kristian had been keeping his money. Glancing over her shoulder at the bedroom curtain, she could just make out his soft snores.
* * *
Should she look? She hesitated. If she looked, did that mean she didn’t trust Kristian?
* * *
Her stomach roiled as she reached for the cookie jar. When she opened the lid, she gasped.
* * *
Then, she looked at the bedroom to be sure that she hadn’t woken Kristian. She hadn’t.
* * *
Peering into the jar, Bonny confirmed what she had already seen—all the money was gone.
* * *
What had happened to all of it, if he wasn’t putting it into the bank? And if he wasn’t saving for the house, then what was he doing with all that money?
* * *
She set the cookie jar back on the shelf and leaned against the counter.
* * *
In her experience, when money started disappearing, that usually meant that someone—the man—was drinking it up. That was where the money had gone at home.
* * *
She desperately hoped that wasn’t the case with Kristian, because she could never be with a man who drank. She had already told him that.
* * *
And what was the trouble that Kristian was in? How had he gotten into it? And how was he going to get out of it?
* * *
Bonny realized that she had more questions than answers. She hated that.
* * *
She knew she needed to go to bed, but she vowed to get to the bottom of it no matter what.
19
Kristian wiped the sweat from his brow as he straightened. The smells of horse and hay and manure mingled in his nose, but he didn’t mind.
* * *
Working at the livery most nights gave him a chance to feel like he was doing something to make things better for himself and Bonny.
* * *
A horse whinnied in the next stall over. If only he could stay just a bit longer, he might feel more settled when he went home.
* * *
If he was being honest, he was still shaking internally over the conversation he’d had with Bonny the night before. He just hoped that she hadn’t checked the cookie jar.
* * *
Not that he would blame her if she had. Clearly, he couldn’t actually be trusted.
* * *
What he’d told her wasn’t a lie—that had been a relief—but he obviously couldn’t tell her the whole truth.
* * *
There hadn’t been any new shoeing jobs, which disappointed him. Any extra money would allow him to pay off his debt to Graves that much faster.
* * *
Kristian vowed that he would never get himself into that kind of trouble again, would never borrow money, would never drink. Big ideals, to be sure, but something that he aspired to—especially now that he had Bonny in his life.
* * *
As he put the shovel and rake away in their designated places, Kristian allowed himself to dream about what their future home would look like.
* * *
It would be two stories, with a huge stone fireplace and a large porch where they could put their rocking chairs on warm summer evenings to watch the sunset.
* * *
He knew he would like to build the house somewhat away from his parents’ home. Doing that meant he could focus on building his own life, his own family.
* * *
And get out from under the shadow of John.
* * *
“Are you all done for the night?” Duke called from his office.
* * *
“I am,” Kristian called back. He dusted off his hands on his pants and headed toward his boss.
* * *
Duke stood from his desk, counting out Kristian’s pay as he walked. With the week’s earnings in his pocket, Kristian bid Duke good-bye and was glad to be heading home.
* * *
That was another surprising benefit from having a second job; he was so glad to go home at the end of each shift. It didn’t hurt, either, that he had a beautiful wife waiting for him there.
* * *
“Kristian?” Duke called.
* * *
Kristian turned, hoping that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He didn’t want there to be a reason that he might lose his job.
* * *
“Yes?” He tried not to let his voice crack with worry.
* * *
“If any new shoeing jobs come in, I’ll let you know right away,” Duke promised.
