Husband on Credit

by Lucy Evanson

  “There are people in this world who so value money that they would sacrifice all else just to get it. They would turn a blind eye to the worth of every person—every one of us a creation of God, mind you—if that person stood in their way on the path to riches. They consort and conspire with the most evil and unpleasant men.”

  Marshall’s voice had grown louder as he spoke. His cheeks had picked up color and his eyes had grown wide, but he remained entirely focused on Emma.

  “There are people who will become so enthralled by money, so seduced by the lust for riches—and make no mistake, this is lust that I’m talking about—that they abuse and abandon those whom they are supposed to love. They would throw aside their own family, their own kin, all in a desperate race to have more, more, more.”

  Emma’s chin fell to her chest as she tried to avoid the pastor’s eyes. Cora could see Mike shift uncomfortably in his seat, moving aside slightly as if he were afraid that his wife would be struck down then and there.

  “I ask you all to imagine a wealthy man. Rich in money but poor in family. He reaches the end of his life and he has no son, no daughter, no wife to care for him,” the pastor said. “His life would have ended in regret, but he has one last hope. He hopes that he can make life better for his kin. He wants the family to survive, to prosper, to grow, even if he isn’t the one to grow it,” he said. “Now I ask you, isn’t this a man who deserves respect?”

  A low murmur spread through the church, accompanied by nodding heads all around her.

  “Isn’t this a man who acted with honor?”

  Another murmur.

  “So if one of his kin sees his money, just waiting to be shared, and she decides to take it all, does that woman deserve respect?”

  A grumble went through the crowd.

  “Did that woman act honorably, by trying to destroy her kin when that was the one last blessing of her uncle’s life?” Marshall thundered.

  Another grumble.

  Emma leaned over and whispered something to Mike. He reached into his pocket and passed her a handkerchief; she dabbed at her eyes.

  Cora could take no more. The pastor continued, but she rose from her seat. “Does anybody here believe that she’s earned a reward in heaven by putting another person through hell?” she heard Marshall say, just before she stepped outside.

  If the pastor had thought that she’d feel better by seeing her cousin go through a public humiliation, he was wrong. She was surprised a bit herself. There had been a time when she would have relished seeing Emma squirm. Perhaps she even would have wished for it. I’ll have to forgive myself for that too, she thought. Cora had no taste for it now, and it wasn’t going to change anything anyway.

  She let the crisp air fill her lungs and she headed home. All that was left to do was wait.

  Chapter 18

  Each tick of the clock was torture, like the lash of a whip across her back. Cora had begun to think that she would never sleep another normal night again; she was entirely exhausted and her nerves were frayed, but it had been impossible to find slumber in her cold and empty bed.

  The lawyer had written that he would stop by Emma’s house at nine, and that Cora could thus expect him around ten. She glanced at the clock. It was nine-forty, which meant that he must have already learned all about their charade. She wondered if he’d be bringing the sheriff directly, or if they’d make arrangements for that later on.

  Cora had even considered running. They said that it was easy to disappear in Chicago, and she knew a few men there. Distant California beckoned as well, with its stories of constant sunshine and pebbles of gold in every mountain stream. In the end, however, she simply sat at her kitchen table and waited. Were she to escape, it would only lead to living another lie, but this time for the rest of her life; if there was one thing she was tired of this morning, it was lies.

  She looked at the clock again, though the hands had barely moved. Nathan would be at work now, in the thick of the morning checkouts. He had always described his work like the ebb and flow of the tides: luggage and guests came downstairs in the morning to pour through the lobby and out into the street, and in the afternoon the flow reversed as the rooms refilled themselves. He would have his break in a couple of hours, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he had taken for lunch. She glanced over at the empty chair at the end of the table and let out a long sigh.

  When she heard the door open at the foot of the stairs, she felt a chill rush through her body and she practically leaped to her feet. The footsteps were slow and steady, and she went to the door, opening it up and letting a little light spill into the hallway.

  It was Mr. Clark, briefcase in hand. He’s alone, she thought. At least for now.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Booker,” he said, fixing his gaze on her as he reached the top step. “We have some things to discuss, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  She trembled as she stepped back and held the door open for him. “Come in,” she said. “Would you like to go to the sitting room? Or perhaps the kitchen?” Her voice nearly concealed the nerves that she felt.

  “The kitchen will do,” he said. “I don’t imagine I’ll be here long.” He followed her in and set his briefcase on the table. “I just saw your cousin Emma,” he said as he opened the case and withdrew some papers. “And I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Cora sat down and rested her elbows on the table, then put her face in her hands. Be strong, she told herself.

  “Somebody broke into your house.”

  She looked up and saw that Clark was holding a key out to her. “What did you say?”

  “I stopped out there before I drove over this morning,” he said. “Looks like somebody broke a window in the back door. You’ll have to replace some glass.” He put the key on the table and slid it towards her, then handed her a stack of bundled papers and pen. “Sign where I marked it at the bottom.”

  She took the papers; they were covered with language a bit more advanced than she was accustomed to reading. “What is all this?”

  “It’s the title to your property. And this,” he said, pulling another paper and small ledger from his briefcase, “is for your new bank account.”

  She grasped the edge of her chair. Is this one last trick Emma is trying to pull on me? “You said you were already over at my cousin’s place, right?”

  “I was,” he said. “Strange morning, by the way. She looked like she’d been up half the night.” His gaze settled on Cora’s own puffy eyes. “No offense, but you look like you could use some rest yourself.”

  “I’m sure,” Cora said. “Emma didn’t say anything…unusual? Anything about me?”

  “Actually, she asked me to pass on a message,” Clark said. “She said that since you forgave her, she’ll forgive you.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “Nothing else.”

  Cora slid her chair back and went for a glass of water. Her hand trembled, nearly letting the water splash out before it reached her lips. Maybe all things are possible now.

  She heard Clark clear his throat. “Mrs. Booker, if you don’t mind, I have an appointment back in Dodgeville I need to get to,” he said. “Could I have you sign these?”

  “Of course.” She went and quickly signed each paper where he had marked. “So now what?” she asked.

  He smiled and extended his hand. “So now you live happily ever after, as they say. The house is yours, and this is the checkbook to your account. You know Jim Thompson over at the bank?”

  “I know who he is.”

  “Good,” he said. “You have any problems, have him get in touch with me.”

  They shook hands and she saw him to the door, then waited until he’d gone outside to slide the bolt closed and return to the kitchen. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars, the first line of the ledger read, under the word “Balance”.

  She picked up the key and studied it. There may still be a chance. She slipped the checkbook and key into her purse, grabbed her c
loak and hurried out of the house.

  Nathan could have named several places he would have preferred to be. It was nearly lunchtime, after all; he could have been at the café enjoying a nice meal and a glass of wine. Or he could have been out for a ride on such a beautifully clear morning. Or, conjuring up a memory that bit him with sharp, sweet teeth, he could have been in bed with his wife.

  Still, none of that changed the fact that he was halfway down the stairs, wrestling with a trunk that must have weighed one hundred pounds, all while its ninety-pound owner followed behind, constantly tapping the trunk with her cane and complaining that he was being too rough with it. After he had loaded it into her carriage, he stood there and waved goodbye as her driver started off. The smile on his face was genuine; he had rarely been happier to see a guest leave.

  “I see they’re still keeping you busy.”

  He turned and felt his heart skip a beat. She looked worn and tired, but she was as beautiful as ever. “It’s good to see you, Cora,” he said. “You look wonderful.” He was tempted to take her into his arms right then and there. He wanted to feel her body against his again, to taste her sweet mouth, to have her skin against his own, but he fought his urges.

  She blushed a bit and ran her hand over her hair. “I’m sure I look a fright,” she said. “I’ve hardly been sleeping the last few days. I guess I got used to having you around.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said. “Takes a while to get used to the boarding house again, too. But I meant what I said; you’re beautiful.”

  She smiled and glanced around to make sure that they were alone. “The lawyer came by this morning,” she said. “Look what he gave me.” She dug into her purse and pulled out the key.

  It can’t be. He felt his jaw drop as he stared at it, then took it from her hand. It was impossible to say, but it sure looked like the key to the house. To Cora’s house. “Emma didn’t tell him?” he said, though his voice had shrunk to a whisper.

  “She didn’t say a word.” Cora pulled out the checkbook and showed him. “I have an account at the bank with the money he promised.”

  He rubbed his eyes. It was hard to believe—impossible, almost—that things had worked out when they had looked so bad only a few days earlier. All his plans, which he had thought to be nothing but crumbled wrecks of hopes and dreams, reassembled themselves in a flash. Everything will be fine now. We’ll both get what we wanted.

  “So what do you think?” she asked.

  He couldn’t hold his grin back. “Write me a check,” he said. “Write me a check and let’s get over to Joe Tibbs’ office.”

  “What?” she asked.

  Nathan almost wavered then, as he watched a light die in her eyes, but he pressed on. “Let’s go get divorced,” he said. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

  Her eyes fell to the mud. “That was the plan,” she said quietly.

  He dashed up the steps into the hotel and returned in a moment, having changed out of his uniform jacket. He led the way, taking her over the raised sidewalks when he could and through the dirty slush when he had to.

  The secretary looked surprised to see them when they came in. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Didn’t Joe already get you two hitched?”

  “He did,” Nathan said. “Now we want him to undo it.”

  “You want to get divorced?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  The secretary shook her head slightly, then opened her desk drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Fill this out,” she said. “I’ll give it to Joe and he’ll get things started. Usually takes a couple of weeks.”

  “Is Joe in?” Cora asked. “I’d like to talk to him. If we’re going to do this, I’d rather hurry it up a bit.”

  The secretary gave her a sad smile, as if commiserating with her. “Let me see if he’s free,” she said, before knocking on Tibbs’ office door and going inside.

  “Look at this,” Nathan said. “They need to know the reason for the divorce.”

  Cora looked down the list of choices. “Well, I don’t think abandonment is going to work, since you’re right here with me. And he might not even believe you’re a drunk.”

  “I don’t want him to think I’m a criminal, or that I beat you, either,” Nathan said, continuing down the list.

  “I guess it should be adultery, then.”

  “What? He’ll think I’m an ass!”

  “So what? The only other reason on the list is impotency; would you rather he thought that about you?”

  Nathan was quiet for a moment. “Adultery will be fine,” he finally said, checking the box.

  The office door opened again to reveal Joe Tibbs. “Come in here, you two,” he said. He held the door for them as they passed, all the while staring at Nathan as if he were something discovered on the bottom of a shoe.

  Tibbs motioned for them to take a seat in front of his desk, then sat down himself. He reviewed the form that they had filled out, shooting Nathan another glance when he’d read the reason for the divorce. “This is a big step you’re taking,” he said. “You sure you’ve talked about all this?”

  “Yep, this is what we agreed to,” Nathan said.

  “Joe, I know that she said it takes a few weeks,” Cora said. “But if you could hurry things up, I’d appreciate it. I’d kind of like to put all this behind me.”

  Tibbs softened as he looked at her, and with a sigh he signed on the bottom line. “You’re divorced,” he said. “Takes a while to get to the state records office, but it’s official as of today.”

  All three stood up and Tibbs showed them to the door.

  “Thanks, Joe,” Cora said, squeezing his arm as she passed.

  “Thanks, Mr. Tibbs,” Nathan said.

  “Get out of here,” Tibbs growled, shutting the door.

  Once in the street, Cora turned to him and opened her purse. “I suppose you want to get paid now,” she said.

  “I do,” Nathan said. “I have a lot of things I need to do, but I can’t get started without money.”

  She took out the checkbook and a pen and carefully wrote out a check, then slowly tore it free and handed it over. “Ten thousand dollars,” she said. “You’re free now.”

  He grinned at her. “And so are you,” he said. “When are you going to go out to the house, then?”

  “I hadn’t even thought about it yet. Tonight, I guess,” she said. “I don’t see any reason to wait. I don’t like staying in our apartment all alone, anyway.”

  “Maybe I’ll stop out and see you later, then.”

  She gave him an odd look. “What for?”

  “Just to say hello,” he said. “Now, sorry, but I’ve got to run. I have a lot of things I need to do today.” He turned to hurry away and had gone several steps when he suddenly stopped, sliding in the mud. He came back and took her hands. “Cora, I still don’t like the reason we chose on that form. I never would have betrayed you like that,” he said. “You know, if we had been really married.”

  Then he leaned in quickly, kissed her cheek, and hurried away. “I’ll see you later,” he called, taking one last look at her as he turned the corner. She held one hand against her cheek where he had kissed her. She looked lovely. He would have gladly stayed there longer to watch, but there was no time. He had a hell of a lot to do.

  If the apartment had seemed too big without him, the house was enormous. It didn’t help, of course, that she had such fresh memories of their night together; in fact, she had avoided the bedroom for that very reason ever since she had arrived.

  At first that had been easy; Cora had found enough to do downstairs just with arranging things in the kitchen. She had hired a wagon driver to take her around—first to the bank, then to the general store for supplies, and finally out to the house. Unpacking all the food and household items alone had taken nearly an hour, but once everything had been put away, she forced herself to climb the stairs.

  Can’t avoid it forever. I’m going to have
to sleep somewhere.

  It was surprising how many memories could be brought back by something as simple as a rumpled bedspread. Cora could remember everything about that night: the look in Nathan’s eyes as she had revealed herself to him, the thrill of his tongue as it trailed across her skin, the tight muscle of his back under her fingers as she had pulled his body close to hers. She tried to put the images out of her mind as she smoothed the covers, but it was impossible. Here I made love to my husband, she thought before correcting herself. To my ex-husband.

  She went to the window and looked out at the land. Her land. It was still an odd feeling, knowing that it was hers. The home, the land and a fat account at the bank; everything had come together just as she had planned. She closed her eyes and let her forehead rest against the cold glass. Just as I planned. Damn shame it’s not what I wanted anymore.

  Cora turned and walked out of the master bedroom, going down the hall to look in the other rooms. So much space. What I wouldn’t give to be back in our tiny apartment now, waiting for Nathan to come home to me.

  A bitter wave had begun to rise within her, threatening to drown her in regret. Cora felt her heart pound like a bass drum in her chest, and she had to remind herself to breathe. She had worked so hard to make it on her own, and at the culmination of her grand scheme, she had finally realized that it was worthless if she didn’t have anybody to share it with.

  She raised her hands to her head, massaging her temples, trying to soothe herself and send away her memories through sheer force of will. It was impossible, of course. The more she tried not to think about him, the stronger her visions became. She saw Nathan in the kitchen, cooking dinner for her. She saw him headed off to work in the morning, waving goodbye before he stepped outside. She saw her hands in his hair as he laid kisses across her belly. She saw the fire in his eyes as he had beaten Drake down to the floor. It was like she could hear him calling her name even now. Cora trembled. I don’t know how I’ll do this without him.

  Then, very faintly, as if from far away, she heard her name called again. She felt a shiver run up her back as she cocked her head and held her breath. There it is again. My name and the sound of…hooves?