Forevermore

by Cathy Marie Hake

  The hired hand passed by, muttering to himself as he opened the barn door for the cows. From what Konrad saw on the day the household was put in quarantine, the hired hand would mess around in the barn for a while, then leave by the other door and help Annie chase the hens into the coop. That was woman’s work, beneath a man’s dignity. Once Konrad was in charge, Annie would have to take care of the stupid chickens herself. He’d keep the hired hand busy.

  Konrad had arrived at lunchtime today. He’d seen Annie through the kitchen window, even been tortured by the smell of good food wafting toward him. Spurred on by the aroma, he’d vowed this was the last time he’d miss eating his wife’s cooking. While everyone at the house ate, Konrad had climbed into the barn’s rafters. The pitchfork now hung poised there, ready for him to attach a length of twine that he’d stretch across a spot about two feet inside the barn. Jakob would stride in, trip, and fall directly beneath the pitchfork that the wire triggered.

  Meeeooow. A white she-cat appeared out of nowhere and scared him witless. Stupid thing stropped across his shin and back. Afraid she’d give him away, Konrad cursed under his breath and kicked her. She landed on her feet a few yards away, turned and hissed at him, then walked off in a snit. At least he’d gotten rid of her. Dumb cat could ruin everything.

  Heart thundering, muscles jumpy, Konrad eased into the barn and remained in the shadows. He flexed his right hand. The bandana he’d wrapped it with stuck to one of the scabs from his burn. He hadn’t let the pain and stiffness hold him back. Squinting at the rafters, he assured himself all was ready, then pulled twine from his pocket.

  Tying one end of the twine through a knothole in a board, he indulged in a grin. His plan would work—it boasted all the hallmarks of a successful endeavor. He’d worked out the details, had the essential equipment, and the very simplicity of the trap would give the impression of a freak accident.

  If for any reason anyone suspected foul play, no one would ever suspect him. He’d make sure to stop at the train depot in town tomorrow and ask the clerk something just to establish his time of arrival. Better still, he’d go back to that boarding house and charm the widow into allowing him to cut flowers from her garden. He’d arrive at the farmhouse with flowers in his hands for Annie, only to then feign horror at the terrible news regarding Jakob’s fatal accident.

  His head ached. His whole body felt stiff. Yes, he probably had the same fever that was felling lesser men. Konrad refused to yield to such weakness. Instead, he gritted his teeth and sneaked across to the other side of the barn’s doorway. Stretching the twine tight took no time at all; attaching it to the line that went to the pitchfork—that was tricky. His fingers twitched and shook with anticipation. More than once, he had to wipe the palm of his left hand on his jeans to dry it off.

  Had he tied the knot securely? The twine seemed to give a little. Maybe he’d better add one more knot. A clove hitch. That was strong. Excitement made him clumsy, but Konrad persevered. Finally satisfied, he slinked back out of the barn.

  He ought to leave. Wisdom dictated as much, but Konrad couldn’t forego the thrill of victory. He edged away and sat in the shadow cast by the outhouse. Any moment now, Jakob would head toward the barn.

  “Jakob!” a woman called.

  Konrad’s heart thundered. He switched to peek from the other side of the outhouse. He could see the back veranda of the house. Jakob stood on the second step, but his wife reached over and tugged him back toward the house.

  Konrad’s molars grated. That woman ought to let her husband make the decisions. Well, when Jakob was gone, she’d learn her place.

  Let him go do his chores. Let him go. I set up a surprise for him—the last one he’ll ever have. Let him go. Konrad watched with growing impatience as that woman yammered at Jakob. His anticipation built. Just a few more minutes, and Jakob would walk into the barn and—

  A roar sounded from the barn.

  No! Konrad barely kept from shouting his denial. His neck arched back, and he hit his head on the weathered outhouse planks. No, no, no.

  Jakob shoved Hope toward the house and wheeled toward the steps. The action momentarily robbed him of his balance. Hope was right back beside him, but Phineas ran from the barn. Hope pulled, Phineas pushed, and all three of them wound up in a knot in the kitchen.

  Annie stood at the foot of the stairs, her face white. “It’s Konrad, isn’t it?”

  “Someone rigged a trap in the barn.” Phineas’s fists shook at his sides. “If I’d been walking in instead of leaving, I’d be dead.”

  “I can’t let this happen.” Annie sank to the floor and buried her face in her hands. “I’ll go.”

  “Nein!” Jakob went toward the kitchen cabinet.

  Behind him, Phineas fell to his knees. “No, Annie. Your verse—it promises God will not suffer your foot to be moved.

  He will preserve you from evil. I—we will not let you go.”

  Hope gasped when she saw the shotgun Jakob safely stored on top of the cabinet.

  “You all stay in here.” Jakob went to the door, raised the shotgun, and fired into the air. He counted to ten and fired the second barrel. By the time he came back inside, Hope was dragging Annie into the pantry. Phineas thundered back down the stairs, Johnny in one arm and Emmy-Lou under the other.

  “Hope . . .” Jakob waited until her troubled eyes met his. “No matter what, you keep everyone in the pantry.” He knew what had to be done; she would, too, once he reminded her. “We have a pact.”

  Her shoulders rose as she sucked in a long, steadying breath.

  “We’ll be praying.”

  “You do that.” He shut the pantry door.

  “Here.” Phineas swiped the shotgun from him and reloaded it. “There might be more traps set. We have to watch each step we take. I’ll track—”

  “Nein.” Jakob fought the unholy urge to seek Konrad out. Until that moment, he’d never understood how one man might kill another. The temptation was enormous. “Nein. We wait.”

  Phineas’s eyes bulged. “Wait?!”

  “Above all, he wants Annie. If we leave her without protection, we play right into his plan. For now, we must keep watch. God will send help.”

  “My gun is in the tack room.”

  “An even better reason to wait.” Logical, calm words came from his mouth. Jakob marveled at it, because deep inside, wrath roiled. I should have suspected Konrad would do something like this. A man who beats his wife won’t hesitate to do anything to get his own way. He looked at Phineas. “If anything should happen to me, I want Hope to stay here and rear Emmy-Lou. Promise me you’ll see to that.”

  “Emmy-Lou’s already lost too much.” Phineas grabbed the shotgun. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  Thundering hooves approaching foretold help. “God be praised.” Jakob went to the door.

  Big Tim Creighton and two of his ranch hands were there. So were Asa Bunce and the sheriff. It only took a minute to mention the deadly trap. Jakob started to give orders. “Tim and Gulp, you go east—”

  “Hold it.” The sheriff scowled. “You’re weaving on your feet. You stay to guard the women.”

  “I—”

  “You’ll endanger everyone else.” Tim stared at him. “Pride could cost someone his life.”

  It galled Jakob, but he couldn’t deny that truth. The men paired up, and the teams fanned out. Though exhaustion pulled at him, Jakob refused to sit down. After shutting the front door and bracing a chair beneath it so no one could enter, he went through the house and out to the back porch.

  “Twinkle, twinkle . . .” Very faintly Emmy-Lou’s singing seeped into the air. The memory of the night he and Hope spent with his daughter and the fireflies caused Jakob to look toward the sycamore.

  A slight movement in its shadow captured his attention.

  Anger slammed through Jakob. Konrad must have thought he was out with the other men, so he sidled across the yard and dropped down in the garden. Crawling on his belly li
ke the snake he is. He comes no closer. Lord, help me stop him.

  Stealthily as possible, Jakob edged to the far side of the porch.

  He eased himself over the rail and into the soft dirt. The soil muffled his steps as he stalked along the neat rows of vegetables.

  Rows of pole beans gave him scant coverage. A small rustling warned him that as he’d moved toward Konrad, Konrad had pressed on toward the house. Jakob halted and waited one more second.

  A tortured scream rent the air. Even so, Jakob didn’t move. He kept his boot firmly planted on Konrad’s right wrist, pinning him to the ground. “Here! He’s here!”

  The lack of struggle worried Jakob. Konrad wasn’t one to give up so easily. In fact, he had a pistol strapped to his right thigh and a Bowie knife on the left side of his belt. Images of what he might have done with those weapons lent Jakob strength.

  The other men came running. The sheriff had his gun drawn, so Jakob slowly eased his boot from Konrad’s wrist. Garbled curses poured from Konrad as the handcuffs snicked into place and Tim divested him of his weapons.

  “Phineas, hitch up the buckboard.” Jakob cast a look toward the house. “I don’t want Annie to see him.”

  “She won’t have to.” Tim folded his arms across his chest. “You have eye witnesses that the trap he set was attempted murder. How long will that lock him up, Sheriff?”

  “It’s up to the judge. Left up to me, I’d vote for vigilante justice about now.”

  Asa Bunce squinted. “He’s got that sickness. Lookit how feverish he is.”

  “Haul him out of here.” Jakob leaned against the garden fence.

  “Jakob!” Hope’s voice rang through the air. “Are all y’all okay? Do y’all need some help?”

  “Stay put in the pantry a little longer. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Your sis and Emmy-Lou shorely could stand clappin’ eyes on you just now.” Hope barely paused long enough to take in another breath. “If ’n Annie and lil’ Johnny cry much more, I’m a-gonna have to start buildin’ an ark!”

  “An—” Konrad started.

  “An ark!” Jakob shouted to drown out the sound of Konrad’s shouting Annie’s name. In a low tone, he hissed, “Get him out of here.”

  Unaware of what was transpiring, Hope yelled, “I’m just about as good with a hammer as I am with a fryin’ pan!”

  The men made a point of laughing loudly as they hauled Konrad away.

  Phineas stood by Jakob and rasped, “If you hadn’t been sick so you stayed behind, he would have gotten into the house.”

  “Like that verse in Corinthians I just read—that God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness.” Jakob raked his hands through his hair. “I never imagined this.”

  A buckboard arrived in a swirl of dust. Jakob and Phineas went to see who it was. Velma and Sydney Creighton scrambled down before anyone could help them. “Thought you men might need help. Jakob,” Velma declared, “you look like death warmed over.”

  “The prisoner looks worse.” The sheriff tapped his foot. “I’d rather have you take a gander at him, Velma. Doc’s about as handy as hip pockets on a hog.”

  Ignoring how Konrad bowed away from her, Velma prodded and poked. She asked him questions, but he barred his teeth and growled at her.

  Big Tim grabbed Konrad by the scruff of the neck. “Enough. Velma, he’s got the same fever everyone else does.”

  “Don’t think so.” Velma inspected beneath the bandana wrapped around Konrad’s right hand. “You burnt yourself?

  What—about two weeks ago?”

  Again, he bared his teeth and let out a wounded-sounding snarl.

  “Lock jaw. That’s what he’s got. Tetanus—it’s all over in the soil and it likes to plant itself in burns.” Velma shook her head.

  “No way to fix it. Best you make your peace with God, mister.”

  The next day, Pastor Bradle rode out to inform Annie that Konrad had died during the night. Annie, still badly shaken, didn’t know what to do. Jakob decided he’d accompany the body back to their old town and have it buried there. All things considered, Hope thought Jakob’s plan showed great mercy.

  Two days later, Jakob hadn’t returned. Hope knew he’d be back that day or the next, so she made a special effort to have everything perfect around the house. Once he came home, their pact would be over—they’d protected Annie and seen matters through to the bitter end. Nothing else kept Hope there. It was time for her to leave Gooding.

  The pungent smell of ammonia made for a good excuse as to why she kept tearing up, so she washed windows. Emmy-Lou sat on the parlor carpeting and counted buttons. Big, bright buttons contrasted with the milk-glass platter, making it easy for her to see them.

  “Someone’s coming,” Annie said.

  Hope rinsed her hands at the kitchen pump. “Looks like Velma.”

  Velma stopped by to drop off some mail and to see if Phineas could go help unload a shipment meant for the feedstore. Since Mr. Vaughn had passed on, men were pitching in. Phineas left, and Velma answered Hope’s and Annie’s questions about how other families in the area were faring with the fever.

  “I’ll go make mercy rounds.” Hope straightened her apron.

  “Velma, you’ve been nursing everybody. It’s my turn.”

  Velma balked a bit, but she gave in when Hope pointed out Velma needed to get a bit of rest herself so she didn’t take sick.

  Once Velma left, Annie offered, “I can help.”

  “Nope.” Hope folded her arms across her chest. “Johnny and Emmy-Lou—you and them ain’t caught that fever, and I aim to make shore you don’t. I’ll just go off and see to the neighbors. Come suppertime, I’ll be home in time to rustle up some grub. Little Johnny kept you up most of the night. You run on along and take a nap ’long with them kids.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Hope climbed onto the seat of her mule cart and set Hattie in motion. As they rode out of the barnyard, Hope swallowed the thick ball in her throat. Leaving—today it was just for a trip, but tomorrow, it would be forever.

  She passed by the spot where she’d delivered water and peaches and cookies to the harvest hands that first morning. “Hope’s agreed to stay here awhile.” Jakob’s words came back to her. Well, she had stayed awhile, and as soon as he returned, her time was up.

  Next came the place in the road where, on her first Sunday, Phineas offered to lend her his Bible. Her inability to read never mattered to Jakob—he’d spent countless hours reading from the Word of God to her. He’d even read about . . . “parturition,” she said aloud.

  Every fence post she drove past carried with it some memory of life since she’d come to work for Jakob. When had he become so ingrained in her life that every last thought she held revolved around him? Hattie continued to plod along, and when she passed another tree, Hope spied where someone had carved initials inside of a heart on the trunk. “Ain’t that sweet, Hattie? I wonder who’s in love.”

  I am.

  The words popped into her head and robbed her of her breath.

  I’ve been feelin’ funny—sorta antsy and giddy. I thunk ’twas just me frettin’ about Annie and Emmy-Lou. Then I thunk bein’ weak in the knees was from me gettin’ over that fever, but it wasn’t. It ain’t just me countin’ Annie as a dear friend or me thinkin’ Emmy-Lou and Johnny are the most cutest kids in the whole, wide world. Them are reasons why I’m sad to be leavin’—but they ain’t the real one. I done went and fell in love with Jakob. Lord, have mercy. What am I gonna do?

  She pulled into the Smiths’ yard. Mandy leaned over the porch railing. “Hey, Gramma! It’s Miss Hope! Where’s Emmy-Lou?”

  “She’s helpin’ her auntie mind baby Johnny. I heard a bunch of your brothers and sisters are feelin’ poorly.” Hope climbed down from the cart.

  Gramma came over. “How’re all the Stauffers?”

  “Much better. Thanks for askin’. Heard tell you was sorta busy over here. Thought I’d lend a hand.” Hope handed Gramma a
crate of eggs.

  “Oh my.”

  “Annie thunk you could use them.” She grabbed the pair of pullets she’d brought. Jakob knew his neighbors well and had sent food for harvest; Annie was just as generous. Hope told herself that when she was gone, they’d take good care of one another.

  Gramma leaned close. “Daisy’s beside herself. The baby’s got the fever. To my reckonin’, he’s past the worst of it, but Daisy hasn’t slept for two days.”

  Annie spent the morning helping with laundry, cooking, and dunking the sick kids in the tub. By the time she left, Daisy had taken a long nap and the baby looked fine. Folks in that household looked a whale of a lot better, but Hope left still every bit as confused as when she arrived. How did I go and let myself fall in love with a man who’s admitted he’s been plannin’ to send me away? That’s the most dumbest thing I ever did. I gotta be careful. I ain’t gonna let my feelin’s show. Thataway when I leave tomorrow, nobody’s gonna get embarrassed.

  The Pattersons and Whites were doing well, so Hope went on to the Richardsons’. A hideous sound from the house warned Hope she’d encounter some kind of catastrophe. Jeb Richardson helped her out of the cart and rasped, “Mama’s beside herself. Linette’s fever got real high during the night, so we cut off her hair. Now Linette’s recovering, but she got a gander of herself in the mirror . . .”

  “Merciful heavens.” Hope marched into the house, went straight up the stairs, and shouted from the doorway, “Who died?”

  She had to repeat herself twice before anyone noticed her. Face blotchy and swollen from crying, Linette shrieked, “Don’t look at me!”

  “Caterwaulin’ like that’s bound to make folks take more notice of you.” Hope watched Linette fall theatrically across the bed.