by Carter Ashby
“I have to visit Richard. I’ve been putting it off all week, but I can’t go to church tomorrow and face him without having paid my condolences in person.”
“Were you and Molly close?”
She nuzzled her cheek against his shirt. “Yeah. It was a strange friendship. I mean, it was kind of one-sided, but I think I was all she had. And she was my only girlfriend.”
Jake pulled back, frowned, and rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “I could go with you.”
At first she laughed. But then she stopped and studied him. “You’d do that?”
“Ivy, you’ve been by my side all week. I wanna be by yours.”
If it weren’t so hard to breathe, just then, she might have told him it wasn’t necessary. That she was capable of handling her own affairs. That she appreciated the gesture but didn’t need him. Thankfully, though, she couldn’t speak to say such stupid things to a man who only wanted to support her. So she simply nodded. Jake smiled, took her hand, and walked with her up toward her house.
“You know,” he said, “I sometimes wonder if Molly wasn’t having an affair.”
Now, Ivy’s breath was gone for a different reason. “Oh?” she squeaked.
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve seen her at the bar a time or two having way too much fun. She never drank or did anything where you could see it, but she flirted like crazy. Plus, that marriage never made much sense to me. The age difference, the interest difference…I don’t know.”
“Yeah. Who knows?”
“This must be really hard for you.”
Her house was in sight, now, her truck parked on the far side of the driveway. “I cried a lot when I found out. It’s all been so hectic, it feels like weeks have passed instead of days.”
“I can’t believe they haven’t had the funeral yet.”
“I hate funerals.”
“Me, too. When I die, just plant me in the ground. None of these ridiculous frills and ceremonies.”
“Me, too.”
Jake got quiet as they approached Ivy’s truck. She looked up at him. He was frowning in the direction of his home. “Dallas is going to be okay,” she said.
He just nodded and held open the driver’s side door for her. Her purse was in the front seat where she’d left it. She started to get in, but stopped, smiled, and said, “Do you want to drive?”
He grinned. “I don’t have to drive to feel like a man, if that’s what you mean. But I’d be happy to.”
She climbed in and slid all the way across the bench, digging her keys out of her purse and handing them to Jake.
They turned down the gravel county road that would lead to the main highway. “After this, do you wanna go see Dallas?” she asked.
“We’re sitting with him in shifts. I go in at nine, tonight.”
“That’s going to interfere with our bedtime plans, Jake.”
He winced. “Damn it. I wasn’t thinking…”
“Relax,” she chuckled, “we can do it another night.”
“Another night,” he repeated quietly. “You might come to your senses by then.”
“Mmm, true. I’m already starting to feel my senses waking up. Yep. I hear them. They’re starting to tell me what a bad idea it is to let you into my bed. Wow. They’re really making a lot of sense.”
“You’re a cruel woman.”
She reached over and squeezed his thigh. “I’ll come sit with you at the hospital for a while.”
His smile seemed a little sad.
They arrived at the parsonage a few minutes later. Ivy wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Maybe she thought the trees would be bare and the grass yellow, the house sinking in on itself, the whole environment in mourning. But it wasn’t. The sun still shone through the fully-leafed trees. The grass was freshly mown, no doubt a kindness done by one of the pastor’s flock—the people of Fair Grove could always be counted on to pitch in when tragedy struck. They might talk behind your back, but their actions spoke of good intentions.
Ivy and Jake held hands as they ascended the porch steps. Ivy knocked quietly, and a moment later the pastor opened the door. He wore a sweater over a button-down shirt and brown, twill slacks. His hair was thinning and he had on his reading glasses. All-in-all, he looked like a rather sad Mr. Rogers.
His smile widened a little at the sight of her. “Ivy, I was hoping you’d come by.” He stepped aside and gestured for them to enter. Richard shook Jake’s hand and then escorted them into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Water?”
“No, thank you,” Ivy said. “I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing.”
Richard leaned back in his chair across from the couch where Jake and Ivy were perched. He sighed heavily and nodded sadly. “I’m doing as well as can be expected. The worst part is the investigation. Of course they had to question me. In these sorts of things, the husband is always a suspect. I only wish I could have laid her to rest a few days ago. As it is, we’ll be having the funeral on Monday. There was the autopsy and, because of how she was found, well, it will be a closed casket.”
“I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all that.” Ivy swallowed down a burning sensation in her throat. She didn’t want to think about her friend as a bloated corpse, gray and swollen from the creek water she’d been face-down in, but the image sprang to mind in spite of herself. The warmth of Jake’s hand sliding around her waist gave her comfort. She resisted leaning against him, but she did scoot a little closer, her hip and thigh flush with his.
Richard smiled. “So the rumors are true?”
Ivy looked up at Jake. “This is still hush-hush,” Ivy said. “But yes.”
“I think it’s wonderful. Best of luck to you both. Everyone deserves to be loved.” He sighed and looked away.
Ivy’s chest tightened as she thought about how little Molly had loved Richard, if at all. He must have known, on some level, that he’d married a very immature woman. By now, if he hadn’t already thought of the possibility of her cheating, town gossip would have put the thought in his head. How horrible to lay your wife to rest while wondering if she’d been cheating on you. “If there’s anything I can do…any way I can help…”
Richard’s sad smile returned. “I thank you, Ivy. Your friendship meant a lot to Molly. She talked about you all the time.”
“Is there anything I can do to help with the funeral arrangements?”
“Her mother has been handling that, I’m sure she could use some more food.”
“I’d be happy to cook.”
Richard leaned forward, opened his mouth, then closed it again. He glanced at Jake and then back to Ivy. “There is one thing. But…it’s highly personal.”
Jake cleared his throat. “I can wait outside.”
Ivy smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
He shot her a wink and left the room. When the front door clicked shut, Richard turned tear-filled eyes to Ivy. “You’d know if anyone would.”
Oh, God. This was not what she wanted to do. Not how she wanted to do this.
“Who was it?” Richard asked.
Shit, he knew. He knew she was cheating, just not with whom. “Um,” Ivy stuttered, “I don’t…I’m not sure…”
“Ivy, girlfriends share with each other. She spent a lot of time at your house, though I’m suspecting she spent less time there than she said. I just can’t stand not knowing who.”
Ivy shook her head, her heart thundering, tears spilling from the sides of her eyes. “I don’t…I can’t…”
“At first I thought maybe she was in the habit of sleeping with random men. But the more I thought about it and remembered, I think it had to be one lover. See, her behavior changed a couple weeks ago. It was a distinct change, I can’t believe I didn’t see it happening. But that was when she spent so much time at your house…tell me, did she ever go to your house?”
Ivy lowered her eyes and nodded. “Yeah. She did.”
“Ivy, honey, I need to know the truth. I need
to know who Molly was sleeping with. I need to ask him why. And how. How could he do this? How could she? Did she think I wouldn’t let her go if she wanted out? Did she think I was so…domineering…that I wouldn’t let her out of the marriage if she wanted?”
Ivy wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak; that if she opened her mouth, she wouldn’t just collapse into blubbering tears. But she forced herself to try. “I don’t think she wanted out of the marriage,” she tried to say. Then she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“It wasn’t your fault. I want you to know, I’m not angry with you. What could you do? It wasn’t your place to tell me. You were just trying to be a good friend.”
“I tried to talk her out of it,” she squeaked. “And when I couldn’t convince her, I tried to get her to just make it a one time thing. She got hooked on this guy and I couldn’t do anything to stop her.”
Richard fell to his knees in front of her and grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingertips digging deep. “Who was it? Ivy, talk to me. Who was it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she sobbed.
“Liar!” Richard shouted, standing and hauling her to her feet. He gave her a shake, rattling her brain, still sore from her concussion. There were so many emotions to sort through that fear and confusion were just two in the mix. “You know who it was and you’re going to tell me!”
He kept shaking her. “I can’t! I can’t!” she shrieked.
And then the shaking stopped because Jake was there between her and Richard, one hand pressed to Richard’s chest, the other extended behind him in a protective gesture in front of Ivy. “That’s enough,” Jake said calmly.
Slowly, through the blur of her tears, Ivy saw Richard’s shoulders slump. The heat in his face faded and he sank back into his chair, pressing his palms into his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “It’s just driving me crazy. I’m sorry, Ivy. I hope I didn’t hurt your head.”
She only nodded, wanting to accept his apology, but unable to speak. Jake’s hand was on her back, then, guiding her out of the house. As he drove them back to her house, Ivy looked at him. His jaw was tight, his expression stern. The hand that gripped the wheel was white-knuckled, but the one that held her hand only squeezed gently, his thumb rubbing back and forth over hers.
Dallas woke up that night.
Jake was sitting in the waiting room with Ivy standing behind him, massaging his shoulders. Since she wasn’t family, she couldn’t go in, so he’d decided to be with her for a few minutes before going to sit with Dallas.
Jake hadn’t been able to speak after seeing Richard being so rough with Ivy. There was too much anger and violence in his state of mind at the time that he couldn’t say anything. He’d wanted to beat the man to a bloody pulp for touching her like that, but it seemed wrong to harm a grieving man. Besides, as soon as he’d walked in, Richard had backed off.
Still, he’d driven Ivy home in silence, kissed her goodbye, and went back to the ranch to do some work. When she showed up at the hospital a little after nine, he was in a better frame of mind, at last able to smile at her and talk to her, though they didn’t speak of what had happened at Pastor Allen’s house. Jake had heard what Richard had been asking. So he knew it was true, then, that Molly had been cheating. What was worse, Ivy knew and hadn’t shared. Even worse, she knew who Molly had been cheating with. Jake couldn’t help wondering what other secrets Ivy kept, or how she’d found herself in the position of secret-keeper for so many people.
As she massaged a knot out of his left shoulder, a nurse came out, her smile bright. Jake had come to interpret the different smiles of the nurses. There was the tight, strained, “nothing’s changed” smile. The weary, “I don’t have time to talk to you” smile. But this one he had yet to see, and it gave him hope. He stood, taking Ivy’s hand.
“He’s awake,” the nurse said.
Jake brushed away a tendril of guilt that said he should have been there and let himself experience the relief of knowing things were finally looking up.
“We’re transferring him to a recovery room. Should be about an hour. But if you want to go ahead and call the rest of your family in, you can.”
Jake let out a laugh and hugged the nurse. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the nurse said, giggling and blushing as she walked away.
Jake turned to Ivy. She’d shed a couple of tears, but she was smiling. “Thank God,” they said at the same time. And then laughed. And then hugged.
He kissed her a little longer than was appropriate, and then she left so that he could call in his family.
When the nurse returned, he followed her back to the recovery room. Dallas appeared to be asleep again, but when Jake touched his hand, his eyes fluttered open.
Dallas’s eyes remained blank for a while, but when they focused on Jake, they widened. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Shh,” Jake said. He had to push Dallas’s shoulders back down onto the bed. He kept repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over until he was sobbing. “Jesus, Dallas, calm down. I’m so glad you’re awake. Whatever you’re sorry for, it’s forgiven. Just relax. Just calm down.”
Dallas’s body went limp on the bed. Tears squeezed out his eyes and streaked down the sides of his face. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“You got nothing to be sorry for. Shit, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I almost killed you. God, I don’t know how I could have lived with myself if…” He quit talking as a nurse walked in.
Jake stepped back as the nurse checked Dallas’s vitals. By the time she was finished, Dallas was asleep again, but the spell was broken.
A few minutes later he stood in the doorway and watched his family file past him into Dallas’s room. Cody passed by, and Jake suddenly realized how much he wanted to talk to his brother. Cody had always been the easiest to talk to. The least judgmental. He might even be able to talk to him about Ivy, though Jake himself couldn’t understand this strange compulsion to confess his feelings to everyone.
As Boone filed past, Jake frowned, immediately forgetting about everything else. He grabbed his youngest brother by the arm and held him back in the corridor. As soon as everyone was in Dallas’s room and out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked into Boone’s eyes.
Usually so bright and mischievous, the brown had dulled. There was no spark. No light. His normally healthy complexion was sallow. “Why are you losing weight?” Jake asked, looking Boone up and down. The boy’s clothes were clearly getting loose.
“I don’t know.” Boone rubbed his face up and down, a gesture from the old man who did the same thing whenever he was either tired or frustrated. “Been worried about Dallas, I guess. Haven’t had much of an appetite.”
Jake shook his head. “Let’s get you looked at. The doctor’s supposed to come in, maybe he can order some blood tests while he’s here. See if you’re sick like Dallas.”
Boone shook his head and let out a breathy laugh. “It’s not hemlock poisoning.”
“There’s no telling how much of the hay was affected—”
“Jake, you know damn well I don’t do any work around there. I ride around on my horse and watch you all feed the cattle.”
Jake shrugged. He couldn’t argue.
“No, it’s just stress. It’s just…” The look in Boone’s eyes turned suddenly pleading. Like he was desperate to tell Jake what was bothering him. Like he hoped Jake could just read his thoughts.
But Jake couldn’t. “You can talk to me, Boone. What’s bothering you?” Jake put his arm around Boone’s shoulders and guided him down the corridor a ways.
Boone stopped and faced him. “I have this situation and…and I’m afraid.”
Jake fully understood what it took for a man—particularly a Deathridge man—to admit that he was afraid. His heart sank for his brother. “Let me help. What’s going on?”
Boone shook his head. His mouth turned downward
as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. “I can’t. I really can’t tell you. It’s just…”
“It’s killing you, Boone. Don’t let it eat at you like this. Whatever it is, I’m here. Talk to me and I’ll help you figure it out.”
Boone shook his head again. “It’s unforgivable. You wouldn’t help me if you knew what I’ve done.”
Naturally Jake started positing scenarios in his mind. What had his brother done that was so unforgivable? The only thing that came to mind, the only thing that Jake probably couldn’t forgive, was if Boone had somehow hurt Ivy, or took Ivy from him. But since asking that question would mean confessing that he had feelings for her, Jake bit his tongue.
“Boys! Boys, your brother is awake!” Clara shouted from the doorway.
Jake spared one last look for Boone before leading the way to Dallas’s room. The nurse was helping him to a sip of water. Gideon stood behind Clara as they stared down at their son, weakened by days of unconsciousness.
Gideon caught Jake’s eye and came toward him, taking him by the elbow and out into the corridor as Jake had just done to Boone. Only not for the same reason. “You’re damn lucky he’s okay, you know that?”
Jake just gritted his teeth.
“Speak up, boy. I didn’t hear you.” Gideon cupped his hand behind his ear, yet another gesture that reminded Jake of his childhood.
“I know,” Jake said through his teeth.
“I expect you ought to go forward in church tomorrow and repent of this. God spared your brother, but it would have been just punishment for you if he hadn’t.”
Jake had the very admirable quality of being one of those people who think before they react, otherwise he’d have flown off the handle at this point. As it was, he had too many emotions burning through him. Relief, fear, confusion, anger, guilt…hatred. In that moment, with Gideon suggesting that Dallas’s death would have been “just punishment” for Jake’s negligence, he most definitely felt hatred. But he couldn’t speak. If he did, everything would come out, and even he didn’t fully know what that entailed.
Gideon must have seen something in Jake’s eyes, during their little stare-down, because, for the second time in a week, he backed down. It was subtle, but Jake noticed the old man’s frown turn from menacing to grumpy, his shoulders lower, and his gaze break away. Gideon turned back to the room, grumbling under his breath.
