by Iris Gower
Alice realized that she had eaten nothing since early morning. She sighed and made her way into the kitchen. It was a mess; Edward had left dishes where he’d stacked them and crumbs littered the table.
Alice found some cold soup in a dish in the pantry and scooped it into a saucepan. She stood over the dying fire and did her best to warm the soup until it was edible. Suddenly, she began to cry, it had come to this: Alice, once used to a houseful of servants, had come to eating cold soup in a dowdy little kitchen. How she hated this existence. And it was Edward’s fault; he was to blame for everything.
She returned to the drawing room and stood before him hands on her hips. ‘I have had enough of you!’ she said fiercely. ‘You have no thought for your pregnant wife, do you? Well, I want you to get out of my sight and right now!’
He ignored her and shook out the paper, concealing himself behind it. Alice turned and left the room, tears of anger and frustration burning in her eyes. She would get rid of Edward by fair means or foul, even if she had to kill him to do it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Binnie stared at the letter and for a moment felt a pang of homesickness. ‘It’s from Llinos,’ he said and Hortense looked up from her embroidery and smiled.
‘Ah, your lovely little girl from Swansea.’ Hortense was beautiful with the sun in her hair and her eyes looking into his with such love that it made his heart skip a beat.
‘You are my one and only little girl. Llinos is just a dear friend.’ He was so lucky, it was only when he had almost lost everything that he realized just how fortunate he was.
‘Poor Llinos!’ He looked down at the letter. ‘Joe has left her and set up home with the Indian girl.’
‘Well, you said it looked that way, didn’t you, hon? And these things happen.’ Hortense smiled. ‘Birds of a feather and all that. And, anyway, the Indian folk have strange ways, strange thoughts, they see things that we don’t see, it’s in their blood.’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps your Llinos should have expected it.’
‘She wasn’t to know that Joe would take the woman back home and move in with her,’ Binnie said thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps I was wrong to tell her and I would like to do something to help but I wouldn’t know where to start.’ He sank onto the step of the porch, the letter fluttering in the breeze as he tried to read it again.
‘You could find out why this Joe took the Indian woman with him,’ Hortense suggested. ‘Perhaps he was obliged to, honey, as I said, these folks have strange ways.’
Hortense was right; it would only take a day or two to ride to Mandan country and speak with the chief. In a way, the visit would serve a dual purpose. He looked at his wife.
‘I didn’t want to tell you this but I heard that John Pendennis is hiding out in Indian country. I’ve been wondering if I should go up there and try to get back some of your father’s money.’ He looked lovingly at Hortense. ‘But I don’t want to leave you even for a few days, love.’
‘But you’ll go anyway?’ Hortense said. ‘Go on, Binnie, your conscience won’t let you rest easy if you don’t sort this out. But don’t tell Daddy whatever you do or he’ll be riding up there with a noose at the ready.’
Binnie sighed. ‘You’re right as always. I’ll get a couple of the men together and we’ll ride out at first light tomorrow.’
Hortense put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently. ‘In the meantime, hon, how do you feel about sharing an afternoon siesta with your wife?’
He could smell her perfume, the sweet scent of her skin and he was immediately aroused. How wonderful it was to have a woman who loved him and excited him at the same time. He would never do anything, ever again, to endanger that love.
It was almost a week later, after days of dusty, bone-wrenching riding, when Binnie caught sight of the River Knife gleaming in the sunshine. He turned in the saddle and waved to the boys he’d hired. Jessie was driving the chuck wagon and, behind him, Karl was riding shotgun.
In his saddlebags, Binnie had some gifts of beads and feathers and in the wagon there were items of pottery that the Mandan tribe might like to copy. Binnie smiled; the tribesmen were skilled potters in their own right, they were a gentle people and usually open to new ideas.
‘It’s only about four miles to the village,’ he said as Jessie caught up with him. ‘Should be there before nightfall.’
‘Thank the Good Lord for that!’ Jessie was a large man with a hearty colour. He was strong and loyal and would watch Binnie’s back at all costs. ‘It sure hurts me where I sit, I think that wagon hit every stone and every hole in the damn plains!’
‘Don’t grumble,’ Binnie said smiling, ‘if you were sitting astride a horse for days, then you would know what pain was.’
They rode the rest of the way in silence and, at last, Binnie caught sight of the walls of the stockade. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘up there on the hill, that’s the village of Mih-Tutta-Hang-Kusch, not far now.’
It was good to see the familiar sight of the round earth lodges set neatly close together around a large clearing. The Mandans were meticulous and kept the intersections between the lodges swept clean to make for easy access.
When Binnie approached, the gates of the stockade swung open to allow the small group inside. Binnie was shown the usual hospitality, gifts were exchanged, and Binnie, Jessie and Karl were given sleeping quarters for the night.
As he lay in the soft darkness of the lodge, Binnie thought of his wife and children. Was he mad leaving the comforts of his home to face the dangers of Indian country? The Mandan were a kindly, non-aggressive tribe but that did not speak for the rest of the Indians who populated the plains.
Binnie slept only fitfully and dreamed about Hortense. He woke in the morning reaching for her, and sank back onto his pallet in disappointment. He must make his enquiries as soon as possible and then get back home.
He bathed naked in the river, the sun on his back, and heard laughter as he swam towards the bank. A group of giggling girls was watching him and he smiled. They were beautiful, every one, but not half as beautiful as his wife.
Later he was invited to sit with the chief. The lodge was spacious with a fire burning in the centre and cleaned skins hanging against the earth walls. Binnie sat cross-legged on a pile of mats and accepted a pipe from the official pipe carrier.
He made polite small talk for a time, asking after the health of the chief and his children and tribe. At last, he broached the subject he had come to discuss.
‘I am curious about Joe, Wha-he-joe-tass-ee-neen, and the squaw Sho Ka,’ he said gently. ‘They left the village together, I believe?’
The old chief nodded over his pipe for a long moment and Binnie thought he was not going to reply.
‘That is the way it had to be, Binnie Dundee,’ the chief said at last. Binnie remained silent; it did not seem polite to ask any other questions. He waited patiently and at last the old chief spoke again.
‘It was the dying wish of his mother, Mint, that Wha-he-joe-tass-ee-neen give a child to the tribe.’ The chief paused. ‘It was also my wish. We need good blood to keep the tribe strong. Too much inbreeding leads to weakness.’
Binnie was intrigued; the ways of the Indian nation were so complex, so rooted in old traditions. He puffed on the pipe, making an effort not to cough.
The chief stared stolidly into the fire. ‘Our pots broke, our spearheads were not sharp and our crops failed. So we welcomed the white man John Pendennis into our lodges, offered him his pick of the maidens.’ Before Binnie could ask questions the chief held up his hand.
‘But he has bad blood, he drinks, sleeps and does no work. We do not want him here any longer. When you leave you shall take the white man away with you.’
Binnie nodded, taking John away suited his purpose very well. There were a great many questions he wanted to ask John Pendennis. The man was bad news; it seemed he was causing as much of a problem among the Mandans as he had among the McCabes.
‘I will do as you say.’ He dre
w on the pipe, resisting the urge to cough. ‘I will take John Pendennis with me when I leave.’
‘As for Sho Ka, she will return,’ the chief said slowly. ‘Sho Ka is one of us, she will come home when the time is right.
‘Soon you will leave our lodges. We want the white man off our lands. He is bad medicine, he fights my warriors and molests their squaws, he is no longer welcome.’
That sounded likely. Binnie sighed. He would never be able to take John Pendennis back home, Dan would kill him if he set eyes on him again. Perhaps the best thing was to go with him to the coast and put him on a ship for England.
‘I will leave in two days and I will take Pendennis with me.’ He bowed his head and the chief smoothed his pipe between brown fingers before putting it to his lips again. The time for talk was over, it was time to relax, to enjoy the hospitality of the Mandan people.
But already Binnie was homesick, lonely for his wife and his sons and for the rest of the McCabe family. They had become his people, the close relatives he had never known. The sooner he got rid of John Pendennis, the sooner he could get home.
It seemed so long since Llinos had written to Binnie that she despaired of ever hearing from him again. Perhaps he never received her letter. Or maybe he was just too busy to be bothered with her problems.
Llinos closed her books; she was not giving them the attention they deserved. Her head ached and from upstairs she could hear Lloyd shouting at Eira. Llinos rubbed her eyes, half inclined to go to her son, but just then Watt entered the room. He looked tired but then he was a worried man. He had funeral arrangements to see to as well as looking after Pearl’s sons.
‘I should remind you about moving your account, Llinos,’ he said. ‘I think now that the bills are settled it’s a good time. I can do a lot of the work but you need to sign the papers.’
‘I know.’ Llinos’s mind was on other matters. ‘I’ll see to it when I can,’ she said. She could think of nothing except Joe and his betrayal. She kept seeing Sho Ka in her mind’s eye, large with Joe’s baby and beautiful. Llinos was obsessed by the thought that Joe had slept with another woman.
Ironically, Llinos now felt the way the Indian girl must have felt, as though there was no-one in the world to care if she lived or died. Come to think of it, Watt was the only one to show any concern at all for her these days. Charlotte seemed determined to keep out of her way and even Eynon had not been around for some time. No doubt he was too busy with his own life but then he had professed to love her. Were all men fickle, cheats and liars?
‘I’m sorry, I’m not giving much thought to the business.’ She tried to smile. ‘I’m behaving like a child, hiding my head in the sand. I’ll go to the bank tomorrow and sort everything out. Now, what’s happening about Pearl’s funeral, is everything in hand?’
Watt pushed back his hair. ‘I’m managing all right,’ he said. ‘But I wish Rosie had stayed at home. She only waited until Pearl was laid out and then went back to work for Alice Sparks. She said the woman needed her more than I did.’
‘That doesn’t sound like Rosie. I thought she’d want to be with her brothers at least until after the funeral.’
‘To be fair to Rosie she comes up to Greenhill every day, prepares the food and does the cleaning. But she leaves before I get home. I don’t think she can bear to sleep under the same roof as me.’ Watt thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘She’s convinced I married her out of pity.’
‘And did you?’
Watt nodded his head miserably. ‘I suppose so. It was all too sudden, I should have given myself time to come to terms with losing Maura.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I suppose I saw myself as a knight in shining armour coming to the rescue of the family.’
‘You did what you thought was best, but a woman needs a man’s love like a flower needs water, can’t you understand that?’
Watt stood for a long moment without answering and then he shrugged. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ He made for the door. ‘I’ll get back to work then.’
Llinos shook her head, men would do anything to avoid talking about their feelings and, once again, Llinos was thinking about Joe.
Llinos went to the window and looked out at the front garden of the house. From this room, the kilns were not visible but they seemed to dominate the landscape anyway, their bottle-shaped towers threw out a heat haze that rose above the darkening sky and hung over the area like a halo.
She clenched her hands together, she longed to go to Joe’s house, to fall on her knees and beg him to come home. She had no pride left, the pain had become too great for her to think of anything else but her longing for her husband.
It was too late to do anything today but tomorrow, if her courage did not fail, she would go to her husband, tell him how much she needed him, how much his son needed him. She would use any sort of ploy to get him home with her.
‘Joe, how could you do this to me?’ Her anguished voice resounded in the silence of the room and, even as her mind searched for some answers, she knew there were none.
‘I’m heartily sick of your grumbling, so shut your mouth before I shut it for you!’ Binnie glowered at John Pendennis. ‘As if taking you to the coast wasn’t trouble enough, you have to constantly complain about everything.’ He held the reins of his horse and, in one easy movement, swung into the saddle.
‘Now get on with it or I’ll dump you here in Indian country without food and water and let you fend for yourself, do you understand?’
John nodded and as he climbed awkwardly into the saddle the bones of his face seemed sharpened by pain. Binnie knew the signs, for he had seen them before in the lined faces of men in the rooms of the local inns: John Pendennis had become addicted to hard liquor. Well he would get no sympathy from Binnie; John had spent or lost most of Dan’s money, he seemed set to wreck his own life and the lives of those around him, and he was best out of the way.
Binnie urged his animal into a trot and John fell in behind him, head hanging low on his chest, the reins of his horse loose in his hands. Good thing the beast was well trained otherwise John would find himself unseated. One sudden movement, one unexpected noise and the horse would bolt. With a bit of luck John would break his neck. Binnie looked up to the heavens. ‘May God forgive me for having such thoughts,’ he said under his breath.
Jessie and Karl were both riding on the food wagon, Karl having given up his horse to John. Binnie could see that the two boys had no liking for John Pendennis and would not raise a hand to help him if he fell from his horse. Binnie sighed, the sooner John was on board a ship for England the better.
That night, the small party camped under the shelter of an overhanging rock. It was no place to rest if they were attacked but it was beginning to rain and at least the rocks offered some shelter from the elements.
Jessie built a fire against the rock face and the warm blaze did a little to cheer Binnie’s spirits. The hot, strong coffee Jessie made was welcome but Binnie shivered as the wind drove the beating rain against his face.
He wished he was home and he would have been if it had not been for John Pendennis. In that moment he could have cheerfully murdered John himself. At last, Binnie rolled himself in his blanket, unaware that it stank of horse and his own sweat. Tomorrow, they would reach the coast and John would be off his hands.
Binnie woke to a bright sunny morning. Jessie was already brewing more coffee and the rich aroma made Binnie feel better. John unrolled himself from his blanket and looked across at Binnie and his eyes, for the first time since the party had left the Mandan village, were clear and bright.
‘I’ve been a damned fool, haven’t I?’ He rubbed his unshaven chin. ‘I’ve thrown everything away. I left a good wife for cheap women and cheap liquor.’
Even now John was thinking of himself and not of the chaos he had left behind in West Troy.
‘You can say that in spades!’ Binnie’s tone was clipped. ‘Not only have you wrecked the lives of the people you should have loved but . . .
’ He shrugged. What was the point in going on?
‘Jo, how is she?’ John asked humbly. He looked at Binnie and read his expression well.
‘She lost the baby.’ There was no point in lying. ‘The shock of the row and Melia’s death was too much and, well, she lost the baby.’
‘Oh, God, what a bastard I’ve been.’ John hunched his knees to his chest and Binnie realized how thin the man had become. He was still young but he looked old and careworn.
‘If you don’t give up the bottle you are on the road to hell,’ he said abruptly. ‘You can never put right what you’ve done to the McCabes but you can try to shape up and make something of yourself back home.’
‘I know you’re right,’ John said. ‘I don’t understand why I let myself become such a wretch!’ He sighed heavily. ‘I had a woman who loved me, a good family life and a father-in-law who provided everything I could ever want and I threw it away.’ He looked directly at Binnie. ‘What am I to do?’
‘Go back to Cornwall, find yourself work, honest work. Pull yourself together and make something of your life before it’s too late.’
‘I can’t go back to Cornwall,’ John said. ‘I promised myself I would only go home when I was rich enough to do to Treharne what he did to me and my father.’
Binnie shrugged. ‘Well, go to Swansea then, see if Llinos will give you work.’ Binnie brightened suddenly. ‘I’ll write you a letter, you can deliver it to Llinos for me, that way I’ll know it arrived safely.’ He looked up at the clear sky. ‘We’ll make the coast by this afternoon, book into some lodgings and get cleaned up and then tomorrow we’ll part company for good, I hope.’ He had no intention of hiding his true feelings from John.
‘Binnie,’ John said slowly, ‘I appreciate what you’re doing for me, I’ll never forget your generosity.’
