What he did next both shocked and repelled Carlene. He dipped his pinky finger into the urine and then touched it to his tongue. When he saw Carlene gagging at his action, Doctor Weber chuckled. “Don’t blame you. Not something I enjoy doing. Right now, I’d appreciate a glass of water.”
Moving quickly to the pump, Carlene filled a glass and turned. The doctor took it and moved outside to the porch. Watching from the door, Carlene saw him rinse his mouth several times. She still shuddered at the thought of what doctors were forced to do for their patients.
In the kitchen, Mr. Hoffman again sat in his rocking chair, covered from neck to toes with a quilt. Mrs. Hoffman, who rarely sat down during the day, waited in a chair at the table. The doctor sat across from her and shared his diagnosis. “Diabetes, I’m sorry to say. No doubt about it since his urine tastes sweet.”
Mrs. Hoffman let out her breath in a slow sigh and turned to watch her husband. He nodded at her before looking at the doctor. “Knew that already. My mother died of it. Now tell me something I don’t know,” he challenged in a tone filled with surprising strength considering his weakened condition.
The doctor smiled at this challenge. “You can feel better, I believe, if you take all of the sugar, honey, corn, and molasses out of your diet. Not too much bread or the like either.”
He leaned into Mrs. Hoffman, “This will be up to you, as the wife and cook. He needs vegetables and meat. Don’t serve him too much fruit either.” Next, the doctor rose and walked to stand by Mr. Hoffman. “It’s important that you move around. Walk around the house and up and down the porch.”
Picking up his black Gladstone bag from the table, the doctor walked to the door. As he took his leave, he gave one more caution, “Drink plenty of water and don’t give up on the diet. I know there is hope.”
Mrs. Hoffman rose and squared her shoulders as if about to enter a fight. “Well, Carlene, it looks like we have some meal planning to do.”
The church service that day turned out to be an awkward affair. Carlene paced as she waited for Manny to finish with his tie. Sighing, she helped him into his suit jacket. “It just feels so wrong to attend a protestant service.”
Manny didn’t know what to say. Rather than talk about the comparison of the type of church services, he reminded her, “Pastor Nillson married us and the nuns approved. Don’t you think they’d rather you went to some type of Sunday service rather than stayed away?”
Reluctantly agreeing, she took his hand and they hurried to the main house so they could ride in with the Hoffmans and the Bahrs. Because of her husband’s illness, Greta Hoffman chose to stay at home. Zelly hustled Greta’s sons into the buggy and the six of them headed to town.
In the churchyard, people clustered around Zelly and Hart, excited to have them back for a visit. Feeling like a third wheel, Manny steered his wife into the church rather than stand behind the Bahrs as people greeted them.
Once in the building, Manny guided Carlene into a short pew set against the back wall of the church. Soon after they were settled, a loud cry of “Sister!” drew their attention. With arms outstretched, Carl Sittig tried to squeeze past Manny to hug Carlene. When Manny wouldn’t move to let him near her, Carl plopped down in the pew next to Manny and began jabbering.
During the week, Carl had been out to the farm, visiting Carlene both at the main house as well as the cabin. No matter how many people declared that Carlene was not his sister, the man refused to drop the idea. Looking at them now, Manny supposed the similar hair and eye color might convince someone not right in his head that the two were related. Add to it the similarity in first names and Carlene might as well accept Carl as her new brother. Manny doubted the man would ever believe that he wasn’t her kin.
Only half-listening to the childish chatter, Manny focused more intently when he saw Carlene stiffen. Putting a hand to Carl’s shoulder he drew the other man’s gaze to his. “What was that you just said, Carl?”
Looking confused, Carl looked up to the ceiling of the church as if searching his confused mind. Holding his pointer finger in the air, his face suddenly gleamed with satisfaction. “Oh yeah! Carlene needs to watch out for the red man. He’s gonna come after her. I heard it.”
Manny turned his gaze to Carlene, his eyebrows raised. “Do you understand what he’s talking about?” At the shake of her head, he turned back to Carl. “Where’d you hear that the red man was coming for Carlene?”
With a shrug of his shoulders, Carl leaned across Manny and asked Carlene if she wanted to see his new jack-knife. Evidently, Carl’s mind wouldn’t or couldn’t stay on the topic of the red man.
Manny’s mind, on the other hand, wouldn’t soon forget it. Carlene had been threatened three times now. First by the sheriff that day they came into town for supplies and then by the hotel desk clerk. Now a mysterious red man posed a danger if Carl could be believed.
Funny that Sheriff Redmond had been so worried about what Carl might tell them. Maybe Manny needed to have a talk with Carl’s brother, Frederick, the deputy sheriff.
Just before the service began, Hart and his wife ushered the Hoffman boys into the pew in front of Manny and Carlene. Carl started waving wildly at Zelly to greet her. The boys, Sven and Lars, stared with large eyes. Carlene calmly reached across her husband and laid a hand on one of Carl’s waving arms. “Church is a place to be quiet and behave. Settle down now.”
Immediately both the Hoffman boys and Carl sat up straighter. A thought passed through Manny’s mind that he had married a good mother for any children they might have in the future.
Though Carlene appeared a bit confused by some parts of the service, Manny thought she seemed to enjoy the pastor’s encouraging words about daily devotions. Basing his sermon on Psalm 91, the pastor spoke about hiding in the secret place of the most high, as a verse from that psalm indicated. This reminded Manny of Carlene’s request that he read aloud from the bible each morning. Thank God they would have Him as their fortress against these threats toward his wife.
After church, Manny noticed the pastor and a tall woman look over at him. After the pastor pointed in his direction, the stranger approached them. The woman was tall and painfully slender, with thick spectacles perched on her nose. Asking in a high voice, “Are you Carlene January?” she held out a hand to her.
When Carlene nodded and would have corrected the woman on her last name, the stranger hurried on. “I’m Dr. Katharine Bushnell. I’d like to interview you about your brush with white slavers.”
Startled, Carlene asked, “But for what purpose and how did you know about that?”
The woman brushed aside her question as if it wasn’t important. “I received a letter from a nun in Milwaukee. I’m collecting the testimonies of the women involved so something can be done to stop this. Now about the white slavers…”
This time Manny decided to interrupt. “Excuse me, ma’am, but my wife and I are due to have lunch with our employers. We’ll discuss whether she wants to speak with you. Good day.”
Putting a hand on her arm, Manny pulled her away from the crowded churchyard. Moving to the buggy where the others waited for them, he quickly picked Carlene by the waist and deposited her next to Zelly. Jumping in, he urged Hart to get the horses moving.
From the seat behind him, he could feel Carlene’s eyes burning into the back of his head. No shrinking violet, this wife of his. He hoped she’d wait until they were alone before she erupted with the temper, he imagined was building inside of her.
Hart’s announcement turned his mind away from his seething wife. “Amos Ledbetter approached me after church. He needs Zelly, myself, and you Manny in town tomorrow about Ram’s trial.” Hart pulled at an ear as if thinking, “What he’d need to say, I’m not sure. Guess we’d better show up, though.
Speculation occupied them for the remainder of the trip. After that, there was a meal to put on the table and games of Crazy Eights and Old Maid in the afternoon, as well as a visit by Carl to see his “twin�
��. By the time supper was eaten and the evening chores were done, Carlene seemed to have put aside her anger at him. At least, she didn’t say anything when they were alone in their cabin. Anything being the optimum word—she said nothing to him, presenting her back to him in bed that night.
The next morning, Hart, Manny, and Zelly traveled into town to discuss Ram’s trial, a heavy silence hanging over them. Manny especially felt morose as he hated remembering the past, dreaded seeing his brother, and didn’t know what to do about his angry wife. He felt sure that Carlene would be safer not telling anyone about the prostitution ring she suspected working out of the hotel.
Amos Ledbetter met them in front of his office. Stopping them on the steps leading into the building, Mr. Ledbetter cleared his throat before suggesting, “Please step over to the jail. There is an issue that can easily be put to rest rather than forcing Mrs. Bahr to recount publicly her humiliation.”
Suspicious but curious, they followed the lawyer. Upon entering the jail, Manny came face to face with his father and brother. Ram sat in front of the sheriff’s desk, free of handcuffs. His father stood next to him and scowled.
The sheriff spoke first. “I have spent the last months duly investigating what happened to Mrs. Bahr. Now, I know she was taken. This man,” he paused and pointed at Ram, “found her tied up in the apartment. Ralph Stinson is the one who hauled her there. Ram might have been stupid, but he didn’t kidnap or molest her.”
Manny watched Hart and Zelly exchange a glance that seemed to say they knew what the sheriff’s next words would be. The knowledge still didn’t prevent shocking from appearing on their faces as the sheriff declared that Ram was to go free.
Hart protested loudly and his wife stood with silent tears coursing down her cheeks. Manny stepped over to her, murmuring soft words of encouragement.
The sheriff threatened to arrest Hart if he didn’t settle down. During all of this, Manny watched his brother. Ram didn’t sneer or look triumphant. Strangely, he seemed unusually cowed—almost fearful as he watched the sheriff.
What has come over my brother? Why did he cringe when the sheriff looked at him just now?
As the other three left the jail, Manny hung back for a word with his brother. With the sheriff still present, he wasn’t sure he’d learn anything. Still, he had to try.
“Any hard feelings between us Ram?” In the past, this kind of question would open up Manny to criticism from his brother. Today his brother only shook his head solemnly but said nothing.
Prodding him, Manny continued. “How about Zelly? Are you going to bother her or go after revenge?”
Ram looked at the sheriff and gulped nervously. “I just want to get out of here.” At the sheriff’s nod, Ram rose and gave both the sheriff and Manny a wide berth as he hustled out the door of the building that he’d been held in for the last few months.
The sheriff gave a sinister chuckle that had Manny’s father frowning at the man. “Yes sir, Ram knows what his punishment is. Revenge is the last thing on his mind right now.”
When Manny opened his mouth to question the man, Sheriff Redmond turned a menacing frown in his direction. “Get out of my jail. Now!”
When he stepped out onto the boardwalk, he saw Katharine Bushnell coming out of the mercantile across the street. She waved to get his attention. When he turned and began to climb into the buggy, the woman yelled, “You can’t keep her safe by keeping her quiet. I won’t give up!”
Manny believed her. Asking Hart to head the buggy to the north of town instead of the direction of the Hoffman farm, Manny decided the time had come to have a talk with Deputy Sheriff Frederick Sittig about the threats against Carlene as well as the irregularities he’d noticed with the sheriff.
Chapter 7
By the time supper was over that evening, Carlene’s muscles ached. She hadn’t worked extra hard that day so she recognized that the ache was coming from how rigid she’d held herself all day because of temper. Needing to talk it out with Manny and being willing to were two very different things.
As they entered the cabin that night and very completely alone for the first time since rising that morning, Carlene let her temper fly. “I am still so angry with you about yesterday. I can’t believe that you would…”
Grabbing her around the waist, Manny silenced her with a kiss. Lifting his head, he willed her to look into his eyes and see the concern there. “To protect you, I’d dare a lot of things. That woman just wants to stir up trouble in town.” Then he lowered his head as if intending to sway her with another kiss.
Carlene was having none of it. Pushing at his chest, she moved to the trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. Pulling out the two extra blankets Greta Hoffman had generously given them, she tossed them to the floor. A pillow from the bed quickly followed them.
Hands on her hips, she faced her husband. “I seem to remember that you are content sleeping on the floor. Since you care so much about protecting me, I’ll let you do that rather than sleeping there myself.”
Having lived most of his life with rejection from the people closest to him, Manny seemed to give in easily. Shoulders slumping, he made a pallet for himself while Carlene watched him, muttering the whole time about being able to make her own decisions.
Later, alone in the bed, she felt horrible about it. The small bed seemed to grow and the linens were cold against her body. In a soft voice that roared loudly in her ears due to the silence of the room, she tentatively started a conversation. “I’m still mad at you, but I am sorry I forced you from your bed. Please get into bed with me.”
Manny either was cold or he saw her offer as an olive branch. He shucked his clothes, since he’d needed them to be warm if he had to sleep on the floor, and hurried under the covers. “This is how it should be Carlene. We can argue, but I don’t want it to be brought to bed with us.”
She cuddling into his arms. “For tonight, we’ll forget this. But tomorrow, I intend to see Dr. Bushnell.”
All the next day, Manny had been on pins and needles about the wall he felt between himself and his wife. Deciding to take her a bouquet, he hoped this was the time to talk things out.
Clutching a trembling handful of brightly colored leaves, Manny hesitantly approached the cabin. He hated strife. More than anything, he felt sick at letting the disagreement with Carlene get out of hand. He should be counting his blessings that she was in his life rather than arguing with her.
The leaves were probably a silly idea. It’s just that there wasn’t much else to make a bouquet out of in the fall. He hoped she would appreciate the thought behind his gift. Still, he did feel sort of stupid carrying them.
Plastering a conciliatory smile on his face, Manny opened the door. A strange sense of emptiness met him as he entered the home. Though he could tell the cabin was empty, he still peeked into the bedroom as he called her name.
She was gone! Had she left him?
Manny checked the armoire as well as the drawers of the dresser. Every piece of her clothing lay neatly stored or was still hanging where she’d left them. An audible sigh escaped him at the knowledge that she hadn’t left him.
But where was she? Knowing that the main house was the next spot he needed to check for her, Manny turned back to set the leaves on the table. It was then that he spotted it the orange label. On the floor, a container of Levi Garret snuff lay lost or abandoned. Reaching down for it, Manny spotted one of his wife’s shoes under the table.
He knew she didn’t voluntarily leave the cabin. Who had been in there? Where was she?
Before he went for help, Manny grabbed his colt from the armoire and strapped it on. He had the terrible feeling he would need it.
Once he left the cabin, Carl came around the side of it. The man looked fearfully behind him as if checking whether someone followed him. Seeing Manny, he rushed to him. “The red man got ‘em, Manny. How will we get sister back?”
Frustrated with Carl’s nonsense, Manny decided to push him for clearer de
tails. “What does the red man look like?”
Carl also seemed frustrated. He glowered at Manny and said, “You know! You been to the jail and saw red man.”
Something clicked in Manny’s mind. Red man—Redmond!
Urging Carl to run home and find his brother, Manny asked him to bring his brother to the jailhouse. Then he headed for the lean-to behind the cabin.
Brownie snuffled at him as he entered the small barn. Patting the horse affectionately, Manny covered him with a blanket and then threw on the saddle as well as his bedroll. Sensing Manny’s upset Brownie shifted from leg to leg as he waited for Manny to mount after leading the horse out of the barn.
Only minutes later he arrived at the main house. Manny was surprised to see the Hoffmans scattered around the yard, yelling Zelly’s name. When Hart noticed Manny, he strode determinedly across the yard to him.
“Zelly’s gone. Can you ride to her old home and…”
Manny interrupted, his worrying increasing with the news. “Carlene too. And I found her shoe as well as a container of snuff.”
“Snuff, huh? Wouldn’t happen to have an orange label?” At Manny’s nod, Hart paled visibly and his face flattened as though he’d taken a blow to it. “Well, we’re in trouble now. Only man I know who uses that brand is the sheriff. Saw it on his desk.”
Manny’s mind rapidly replayed scenes when the sheriff questioned Carlene. Were there any clues that the man wasn’t out to help them?
Manny steeled himself to focus on the here and now. “Who do we go to if the sheriff’s the bad guy?”
With his mouth set in a tight grimace, Hart thought for a moment. Then he uttered a name. “Frederick Sittig.”
Though checking the jail didn’t help them find the deputy, Hart and Manny both noticed that the gun locker stood open and empty. Wherever the sheriff was, he had quite a few weapons with him. Did that mean that the deputies rode with him? He headed for the only place he could think of for information.
Manny's Triumph: Sequel (Secrets In Idyll Wood Book 2) Page 6
