"Wonderful." Katie threw up her hands in frustration. She tried stuffing the brick back in place. Something blocked it and she pushed harder. It wouldn't budge. "It fit fine a minute ago," she growled in frustration. Reaching her hand in to brush away mortar chunks that might be blocking it, she touched something flat and hard. "What the heck?"
The storm seemed to fall silent as she pulled out a small book, coated in dust. Wiping the cover she found the black leather cover blank. Lightning flashed outside as she opened it.
The Personal Journal of Samantha Emery, it read.
That's odd, she thought. Facinated, she brought a candle down to better see the faded writing and turned the page.
February 2nd , 1905
Richard has been gone for a week and I am growing lonely. His trips to town always leave me blue and missing him. I don't understand why the trip couldn't have waited until spring. We've enough supplies to last at least two more months. But Richard always grows nervous toward the end of winter and I believe he suffers from a bit of cabin fever after such a long, harsh winter such as we had. His reason was to purchase seed early and be ready and waiting to plant after the last frost. Gathering our spring supplies now, he argued, would keep him from making the long journey during spring when he is needed here. It also serves to keep a marriage fresh, as spending too much time together can cause us to take each other for granted. A bit of pining and loneliness might serve our relationship well. I must keep that in mind during the long, lonely nights without my love.
We had a wonderful crop last year, the ground is so fertile and it has encouraged him. Richard is looking forward to planting a hundred acres at least and doubling our profits. He is a studious, practical man and I can say in all honesty, he does everything without thought for himself, but for the benefit of his family. Or, his future family, I should say. I have been unsuccessful in providing him with a son, so far. I can tell it frustrates him as much as it breaks my heart. I want nothing more than to give him a son. Before he left he spoke with me quietly by the fire. He suggested gently that I might visit the doctor if by fall we are not expecting. It encouraged me that he hasn't given up entirely, but saddened me that he perceives the problem as solely mine. Perhaps it is.
Katie blinked as she turned the page and sneezed. Her injured knee was beginning to ache on the rough hearth bricks and she stood up, taking a candle with her. She made a mental note to begin making a hearthrug as soon as she could. One candle on the side table was not enough to read by and she gathered several, clustering them and leaning on the arm of the sofa. Forgetting about the fire all together, she was absorbed in the journal, pausing only to use the bathroom.
Chapter 5
With dawn the storm had passed, leaving branches and shingles scattered in its wake. Katie stretched with the roosters’ crow; her back stiff from dozing on the arm of the couch, the journal on her lap. For the first time ever, she hoped Jacob would nurse quickly and fall back asleep.
She read while she cooked oatmeal and while she ate, and with the power back on, she enjoyed two cups of coffee sitting in the sundrenched breakfast nook, getting to know this stranger from the past. She paused to call her sister.
"Hey, Sarah, it's me...yes, I'm fine...yes, and the old house survived the storm." She laughed. "Listen, I was wondering if you still have that old chart of Daddy's family tree."
"I'm sure it's somewhere in the attic. Why?"
"I just wanted to look at it, is all. Can you bring it over later today?"
"Sure. Is everything okay, Katie?"
"Fine."
"Is Tom there?"
"He went hunting." There was a long pause.
"I see. Well, if you need anything, just call."
"I'm fine, Sarah. Thank you."
Katie sighed as she hung up. Settling back on the couch and rocking the cradle with one foot, she dove back into the journal. Not aware of the passing of time, she startled with the knock on the door near noon.
"One minute!" she yelled and went scrambling for the bathroom. She grimaced at her reflection. You're hopeless, Katie Johnson. Her hair was a nest and she was still wearing the same dress he'd seen her in the day before. Quickly she threw on a sweater and flat slippers. Twisting her hair to fake a messy up do was the most she could do to improve her appearance.
Grabbing the journal, she ran to the door and opened it as casually as she could.
"Hey, Will."
"Mrs. Johnson. How are you today?"
"Fine. Sorry it took me a minute, I was busy."
"Well, I'm sure this old house keeps you that way most of the time. That and the baby." He smiled and her heart did a little thud.
She smiled back feeling like a stupid school girl. He glanced down at the black book in her hand.
"Bible?" he asked.
"Oh, no, it's ah...an old book I found when I was cleaning yesterday."
"I see. Sorry, I just assumed. You know, Sunday and all."
She nodded. She used to go to church, but the talk and whispering had become too much and she stopped going. Besides, Tom would never go with her and she felt self-conscious showing up alone.
"It's this old journal, actually. Written by a woman who used to live here, I assume." She gave a small shrug. She has my father’s surname. She might be a relative. Or it could be one big coincidence." Her eyes were shining with excitement.
"How interesting."
"It is. It's like a real life romance novel. Better than one even." She blushed, realizing she had just admitted to reading trashy romance books.
"The past is fascinating. I found an old box of things under the cabin I bought. No journals or letters like that, but tools and trinkets and stuff. Gave me an idea of the kind of people that used to live there. I went to the library and tried to look up the previous owners."
"Did you find anything?"
"A little. I found an old picture of the family. I made a copy and framed it. It's hanging in the living room now."
She looked at him with one eyebrow up.
"You didn't even know them."
"I know. I thought it might make them happy, you know, in case any of them are still hanging around."
She laughed. "Don't tell me you believe in ghosts."
He grinned with boyish mischief. "One can never be too careful."
She stood, staring with a fixed lopsided grin.
"I'll get to that water heater now, if that's okay."
"Oh, right." Her head gave a quick shake and she stepped aside. As he passed, she breathed in his clean scent. A small voice reminded her she was being stupid. A larger voice told it to shut up, as she watched him walk through the living room.
She found a spot on the sofa where she could see into the hall and watch him work. Tucking her legs under and straightening her skirt, she held the journal up, glancing inconspicuously between it and Will, wrestling out the old hot water tank.
The front door opened suddenly and Tom walked in, looking around.
"Who's here?" he demanded.
"The guy your father sent over to fix the hot water heater."
"Oh." He relaxed a little.
"What are you doing?" He gave her a sharp glance up and down.
"Reading." Obviously, idiot, she thought to herself. "Did you get a deer?"
"Huh?"
"Hunting. Did you get a deer out hunting?"
"No." He turned and hung up his coat and then wandered into the kitchen.
Will glanced back over his shoulder at Katie and looked away quickly when his eyes met hers.
Katie glared intermittently at Tom over dinner as she ate. It was the first time in months she'd felt truly hungry. He chewed silently, staring at his plate and while she had no desire to say anything, she wished he'd say something. Talk about remodeling plans or at least tell some bullshit tales about the hunting trip he didn't take.
The silence was maddening. She couldn't take it anymore.
"So, Will did a good job on the water heater."
He grunted something that was supposed to be an acknowledgement.
"I thought maybe we could hire him to do some other things around here. Since you don't have time and all."
"That'd be expensive."
She shrugged. "Have your father pay for it."
"Katie, we've been over this and over this. I'm sick of going to my dad for money. So is he."
"He's sick of you not paying him back, is that what you mean? Because maybe if he got paid back, he wouldn't mind making more loans."
He didn't respond.
"Why'd he pay to have the hot water heater fixed, then?"
"That was an emergency. And he's taking it out of my paycheck for the next few months."
"How much?"
"Hundred a paycheck."
"That's going to make things even tighter," she sighed. "Maybe I should get a job."
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"You're not getting a job."
"And why not?"
"How is the house going to get done if you're not here?"
"How is the house going to get done if we don't have the money to do it?"
He rose, leaving his plate behind. "No, and that's final," he said and walked away.
She turned on her radio for company as she cleaned up the dinner dishes.
Tom spent the evening hours in the garage, spending his time with a six pack, cleaning his guns.
Brilliant combination, Katie thought as she stood in the doorway, watching him.
She pulled her sweater closed and shivered. "Can I ask you something, Tom?"
He jerked his head up, saw her and looked away.
"What, Katie?" He sounded thoroughly annoyed.
"Are you happy?"
"What the hell kind of question is that?"
"It's a simple one. Are you happy? Because I don't think you are."
"Don't go getting all emotional again. I thought you were over that when you had the kid."
She ignored him. "You’re not happy with your job, with me, with our son, with your whole life." Are you happy where ever it is you run off to on Friday nights? She wanted so desperately to ask.
"Yes, I'm happy Katie. Aren't you?" His tone was thoroughly sarcastic.
"No." Her answer jolted them both. Him to hear out loud what he knew, but didn't care about, and her, for saying it out loud for the first time.
"I work damn hard, Katie and I bought you this house, bought you that car, that new sofa and TV, what the hell else do you want?"
He turned and began putting away his things angrily.
"A life, Tom. I want us to be happy again. I want you to start enjoying your son. I want us to do stuff together and get this old house done, like you promised...I just want us to be happy again."
He looked at her with eyes that used to be so attractive, used to make her heart race, and now they were cold and unfeeling. "I don't think we were ever really happy."
She took a step back from the shock of his words and took a moment to find some of her own.
"Fine. Fine then. Why did you marry me? If you were never happy with me. Why do you even stay?"
"I'm not listening to this shit," he said and pushed past her.
"Why don't you go stay with whatever whore you go see every weekend?" She twirled around and screamed.
He waved his hand in the air, dismissing her and slammed the front door shut. Katie sunk down with her hands in her face and cried. "I hate you...I hate you," she sobbed over and over. Though she didn't know if it were Tom, or herself she was whispering to.
She walked in the house awhile later, her eyes dry but red and swollen. She swiped the journal off the arm of the couch where he sat watching TV, picked Jacob up from his cradle. Lying on her side, she pulled him in close and began reading again.
February 8th, 1905
I received a telegram today informing me that my beloved would be delayed. It seems that he has fallen ill on the journey, Oh, I told him not to go so early in the year when it still threatened storms and snow! The telegram was short, that Richard had fallen ill, they had stopped to recuperate and a letter would follow. I am so worried about my beloved I can scarcely sleep or eat and wish I could go and bring him home myself. Waiting for the promised letter from Richard's brother will be torture. I'm afraid I am not much worth writing today, and won't be until my husband is returned home safely to me.
Chapter 6
Katie opened her eyes to the bright morning sun and lay still, staring at the ceiling. The same feeling came over her every morning. The tired, monotonous day lay before her and she dreaded it. She'd slept poorly, as she always did. Before she realized what she was doing, she was taking a bath, sinking under water, feeling the familiar urge to stay there. Coming up with gasping breaths, she had a flash of an idea. Wearing a fresh spring dress, she wrapped the towel around her head and padded to the phone in bare feet, stubbing her toe on the raised floorboard on the way. Growling and cursing, she held her foot with one hand while dialing Sarah's number with the other.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sis. It's me. I was wondering if you ever found that family tree."
"Yeah, last night. Ian went up to the attic and dug it out. I was going to bring it over after lunch."
"I'll come over and look at it."
Silence. "Really?"
"Yes, really. I've got to get out of this house for a bit."
Sounding genuinely excited, Sarah asked, "Have lunch with me then?"
"Sure."
Katie hung up and turned around. She hadn't been out in weeks and suddenly she was scared. Not of any one thing in particular; of everything in general. She didn't want to run into anyone, didn't want to deal with questions, even ones as benign as, "How are you?" She was afraid she'd break down in tears or start laughing maniacally. And she didn't know why she would do either. It wasn't that she didn't like people; she'd always been a social butterfly in school. It was only since Tom that she became more reclusive and shy. Once vibrant and engaging, she felt like a hermit. Taking a deep breath and gathering all her courage she began to put together a bag for the baby. She dried her hair and pulled it back and put on the slightest bit of makeup, just enough to hide the dark circles and sallow look. Standing back to look at herself, she sighed. “Not bad. Not great, but not bad.”
Grabbing the journal, the baby and the bag, she flew out the front door before she had a chance to change her mind.
With the baby strapped in and looking around curiously, she took a deep breath before starting her car. It was only then it occurred to her that it might not start at all; it had been so long since she used it.
But it did start, and she made her way down the long dirt road. Right away she began to breathe easier, relaxed back into the seat and admired the blooming trees and flowers. By the end of the road, she had opened the sunroof, turned on the radio and asked herself why she hadn’t done this sooner. She fished out her sunglasses from the glove box and dusted them off. The day was bright and beautiful. The wind blew her hair around and the sun warmed her shoulders. She turned up the radio and took the long way to her sisters’, wanting to enjoy every minute of the sun, air and freedom.
Pulling up to Sarah's house, she smiled. Small and cute, she and Ian had made the old run down cottage into a cozy home. Gleaming white with black shutters it looked clean and fresh. She sighed at the short white picket fence. Seemed like it was every little girls dream to have that white picket fence.
A big black lab ran from around the house to greet her as she stepped out of the car.
"Hey, Bones." She rubbed his head as he bounced around her. Sarah had found the dog as a puppy on the side of the road. He was skin and bones; near death. She took him home and they raised him to be a massive, healthy and loyal dog. The name Bones, stuck.
"Someone's excited to have visitors," Sarah called from the porch. Bones was yipping and whining, twirling in circles and licking every part of Katie he could get to. She gave him enoug
h attention to get him to calm down and then took the car seat out, holding it up high as Bones jumped around trying to see what was inside.
"Bones, go lay down!" Sarah said. When Katie finally got inside, Bones went and lay in front of the fireplace, panting with a lolling tongue, watching every move his people made.
"He looks like he's smiling," Katie said as she set the car seat on the table.
"I think he is. He loves people. Not much of a guard dog, mind you. He'd love a robber to death. Want some tea?"
"Sure, that sounds great."
She sank into the kitchen chair and blew out a long breath. So many times she had wanted to come over and visit her sister, but rarely, if ever, made it.
Why? she wondered.
"You look good, Sis."
"Thanks. It feels good to get outside."
"Have you started your garden?"
"No, not yet. You?"
We have it marked off and started tilling it up." She nodded out the kitchen window as she worked. "Ian's been working a lot, so we haven't made as much progress on it as I'd like."
The smallest, strangest things stung Katie, and usually when she least expected it. Sarah was relaxed and happy, knowing that when Ian said he was at work, that's where he truly was. And when he was here, he worked on their home. An ugly wave of jealousy ran through Katie and she tried hard to push it down.
"I can help you while I'm here," she offered.
Sarah shrugged, not accepting nor declining.
"Are you still going to grow a few acres of something?"
Reclaiming Katie Page 3
