Ever since the flood, her mind had been functioning in protective mode. Although she had killed, and been trapped at the Branches’, there had been a deeper river of thought underneath that told her things would turn out right. She had secretly believed in a simple solution and had envisioned it as a gift coming to her unexpectedly. How else could she have muddled through all the aching loneliness and uncertainty? She had been bested, and by the worst people. What ending to the story could she see now?
She was still lost in a lightless canyon, so deep she could imagine stars falling in as the night lengthened. She was still down there in the dark, and yet a tiny white light appeared.
The next day, she found Jack in the barn grooming the horses he so loved.
He looked freshly bathed and shaved; he wore clean clothes, and his hair was combed and pomaded, as if he had been expecting her. When he glanced up, an immediate smile broadened his face.
But his expression fell as he took a closer look at her. “What has happened?”
“Could we go for a ride?”
He said, “Sure,” but first came forward and took her in his arms. “I have the dynamite, in case that’s what’s worrying you. And it’s not traceable to either of us.”
Fighting tears, she held him, too, but then gently pushed herself away, for the moment. She was not ready to give it words yet.
And so she and Jack saddled the horses and took the same ride into the woods they had before, on that day that seemed so long ago. Surrounded by dappled sunlight again, they dismounted and stood facing each other, a strange silence there, as if even the insects were stilling their wings and the squirrels were ceasing to breathe.
In that quiet and beautiful place, Adah managed to relay the horrific story of what she had uncovered and come to realize; all the while Jack watched her reveal emotions she’d had to contain until now. Beyond tears, she told him she would be leaving the Branch house as soon as she could.
“Where will you go?” he asked, and she detected only the slightest hint of hope in his eyes.
A quickening throb—a need she’d never known—came from the ground, up through her body, and out of her pores. Once, Adah had protected herself against vulnerability at all costs, but now she was like a newborn entering the world, opening its eyes and breathing for the first time. She faced him squarely. “You once asked me to marry you, Jack,” she whispered, breathing shallowly.
She’d been thinking of nothing else. Over the past night, she had been reminded of how small each human life was. How short their frenzied fight to survive. Over in a single blink of time, their existences as insignificant as particles of dust. And how foolish not to take any chance at happiness, to hold on and believe that everything they needed was right here.
A sigh came from the forest. But she didn’t turn toward it. Instead she breathed into the aching air. “Is the offer still open?”
He stood in silence, looking stunned, as if realization was dropping into him like a stone falls into a pool of water, rippling the usually quiet surface in ever widening circles. His face went from holding on to a shred of hope to being awash in it. But he didn’t rush forward as she had thought he would or hoped he might. In his eyes was love but also doubt. “Of course it’s still open. But . . .”
Adah held still.
“You’re hurt, you’re defeated, and you’re giving up. I know I asked you to do that in the past, but I wouldn’t want you to be unhappy.” He paused, his hands hanging at his sides, his body facing her squarely. “I wouldn’t want you to marry me if you’d be unhappy. I’m not sure I’d be happy.” A tiny wry smile. “I guess I’m vain enough to want a wife who loves me back, even a little bit. I’ll help you get on your feet no matter what, whether you’re with me or not. I’ll do everything I can to be your silver lining and make our lives good and sweet one way or the other, but I have to know if this is desperation or if it’s born from something more than that.”
Despite it all, she was still capable of love for a good man. Her notion of love had transformed before her eyes, had come alive by slow degrees, and now rose to the surface of her being.
Adah slowly took a couple steps forward, reached up, and gently placed the first three fingers of her right hand on his lips. “Now that that’s decided . . .”
Jack’s eyes swam with joy, and he took her fingers into his mouth, then closed his eyes.
The grief and anguish of the past months eased out of her body in his arms. The openness of his desire was something unknown to her—the way he held her head in the palm of his hand, how he whispered into her neck, his breath and lips on her face, the ridiculous joy of it all. Nothing stifled, everything exposed and frank and freely given. Her body and so many sides of her heart had been lost and now found.
And yet she couldn’t enter a union without honesty. She pulled back. “There’s one thing I haven’t told you.”
“You don’t have to say it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You don’t.”
Later Adah would remember the pulse she saw ticking in Jack’s neck, the warmth of his breath, the change in his expression. “I killed him. I killed Lester. It was an accident. He’d hit me and was kicking me and might have kept at it until he’d killed me. I picked up a shovel and hit him in the head, and then he was just . . . gone.”
His eyebrows gathered together into one line. “I already figured this out.”
“How?” Adah asked, aghast.
“Because you were just so scared—you’ve been so terrified from the very beginning. I knew there had to be something behind all that.”
“And you don’t care what I did?”
There wasn’t a touch of dishonesty in his eyes. And the look on his face was so sweet, spelling out clearly his devotion, admiration, everything good and real. “Yes, I care. I care what he did to you and what he did to his first wife. You acted in self-defense. The way I see it, Lester Branch got his just due.”
“You don’t know what it feels like to have killed.”
“No, I don’t. But I recognize regret and shame when I see it. I see that it killed a part of you, too, a part I’ll bring back to life, I promise you.”
“I’ll never forget what I did.”
“You will. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you do.”
“You’ll be marrying a murderer.”
“I’ll be marrying the woman I’ve waited for my entire life.”
He touched her arm, and his callused hand moved smoothly down to her hand, which he cradled and brought to his chest. Nothing else needed to be said with words. They stood like that amidst a bed of clover on a forest floor while the sounds of life around them returned, and creatures darted between the trees.
Jack’s face hovered before her—the only one she wanted to study now and forever—and they made plans. Adah asked for three days to gather her thoughts and say goodbye to Daisy; then on the following day they would meet on the courthouse steps at noon to become husband and wife.
The most beautiful sight was the elation that began to spread over Jack’s face.
Before she left his farm, she went inside the house to use the bathroom and took note of where soon she would be living. She paused before the open bedroom door. Jack owned a couple’s larger bed. Secretly he’d been looking for someone; he’d been waiting for her. The bed was neatly made, the pillows plumped. Already imagining what it would be like to truly touch Jack, to love him unbidden, and let him love her now that she had told him everything. There would be no holding back.
Back outside, as she took steps to leave, he reached for Adah’s hand, kissed it, and pressed it against his cheek. “On our wedding night, I’m going to sop you up like a biscuit . . .”
Back on the Branch farm, Adah had to work hard to keep her mask in place, even around Daisy, only letting it fall off at night. She had decided to tell Daisy of her plans on the morning of her leaving—no sense in doing it sooner—and then to assure her that she would always lov
e her, would always be nearby, and would do anything she could to remain as close as possible.
A vibration seemed to be coming out of the ground, but it was coming instead from her body, shaking her to her core. She couldn’t imagine what the little girl’s reaction would be and hated the thought of her despair, but she told herself she was making the best decision she could. Father Sparrow had once told her that a person gained wisdom when they asked themselves the hard questions in life, and now she stood face-to-face with two she could not answer: Had she done any good in her life? Was she making the right decision?
She planned to tell the Branches nothing. Just walk away, making it easier on Daisy without some big showdown scene. Plus, if they knew she planned on leaving, would they take a final shot at killing her before she left their land?
Adah planned to continue attending the same church, where she could see the girl. If the Branches refused to let Adah and Daisy embrace and talk before or after church services, it would prove a poor reflection on them with townsfolk. And when Daisy went to school, Adah thought that perhaps Esther Heiser might help Adah get work in the school kitchen so she could see Daisy there as well.
Somehow, some way, Adah would remain a part of Daisy’s life. She couldn’t imagine going forward any other way; she owed it to Daisy and to Betsy Branch. She owed it to herself and to Jack, who wanted her to be happy.
Giving up now was like peeling off her skin. But she had to do it. She had to leave Daisy behind in the Branch house.
Sitting on the back porch, she was determined to remember the sound of Daisy snuffling in her sleep and the sight of her arm around her doll at night. She imagined opening the door on the morning of her leaving and wondering, Will I ever cross this threshold again? Will I ever spend time with Daisy again? She wanted to remember every moment she’d spent with Daisy, even the ones that had happened in this place, and yet she knew that after she said goodbye and lived elsewhere, she would slide farther and farther away.
The next evening, Esther came over for supper, and wedding details were ironed out. Adah made a careful observation of Esther, wondering . . . But Esther seemed overjoyed by the prospect of her upcoming wedding, and when she occasionally met Adah’s eyes, there was no malice there.
The tiniest of burdens lifted off Adah’s shoulders. Esther hadn’t wanted to be a stepmother figure, and she had been stern with Daisy, but perhaps in time and without Adah’s presence, she would grow to care for the girl. At the very least, Adah was almost convinced that Esther was not a party to the plan for catching Adah. Perhaps Esther could become the silver lining in Daisy’s cloud, just as Jack had become the silver lining in Adah’s. Given time . . .
After supper, Esther sought out Adah on the back porch as the sun became a blood orange breaking apart along the horizon. For a moment, Adah closed her eyes. She could hear a faraway train clacking on its tracks.
After making sure they were alone, Esther asked, “Did you go see Kate?”
Adah nodded.
“And . . . ?”
Adah was surprised by the question and made a quick decision. There was no reason for Esther to know what the letters revealed. Just because Lester had been violent with his wives, it didn’t mean Jesse would be. And there would always be some tiny shreds of doubt about what Esther knew and what she would say to the Branches. “She gave me some letters. There was nothing there. Nothing. But thank you for trying to help.”
Esther straightened and harrumphed. “Just as I thought. Nothing but rumors . . .”
Though Adah tried, she could not make herself smile at Esther. Esther was a wise woman, and her position in the community was admirable, but she had lived a cloistered life. As naive as she could sometimes be, Esther deserved her chance at happiness. Adah had tried to warn her about the Branches, and it had done no good.
“Yes,” Adah said. “Nothing but rumors. I hope you and Jesse will be happy together.” And she truly meant it.
Looking satisfied, Esther continued to peer closer at Adah. “What of you?”
Adah shrugged and said no more. To think that she’d once looked up to Esther, but Esther had in essence sold her soul to wear a wedding band. Would a child of her own bring her happiness?
She gazed out to the sky, now coming alive with stars. Adah had no need to tell Esther anything. Just to be safe.
Only one day remained.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Branches could not have any idea she was leaving.
Everywhere she went, she felt inquiring eyes following her every move. When she hung laundry on the clothesline, she sensed someone coming up behind her, but when she turned around, no one was there. When she walked the roads delivering laundry, she was certain someone was following her, but when she glanced behind her, all she saw was the dust her feet had churned. In her room at night, she once had the strange sensation that someone was listening with their ear to the door, but when she slid out of bed and silently opened it, the hallway was empty.
She had to wear her mask for only the rest of the day, and then she would rip it off for good the next morning. Such a mix of emotions—she would be marrying Jack tomorrow, and there was the sense that out of the rubble, they would build their own happiness. But she was also leaving Daisy, who deserved everything admirable and decent and worthy, and for whom destiny should have served up those things on a golden platter. Elation and loss coursed through her like leaves of different colors floating in her veins.
When dusk came it startled her with its finality; the last day was gone.
Daisy was crankier than she’d ever been before. It was as if she knew her life was about to change drastically. Adah had a hard time getting her to sleep, but finally the girl succumbed to Adah’s comforting touch.
With Daisy sleeping soundly, the night came alive with sounds. Adah could hear the walls settling and insects outside, the howl of a dog far away, the wail of wind that had started to pick up. At the window, she saw that an anvil-shaped thundercloud had blossomed to life in the distance, illuminated by moonlight.
Sleep would be near impossible, and she planned to watch the clock until the relief of morning. It seemed as if time had slowed, and her heart broke with each passing hour. She believed in the power of love. It was the only faith Adah could profess with certainty. However, as each moment drew out, she could feel the girl slipping through her fingers like fine sand sifting to the ground. How long would it be before Adah saw her again?
Her body nearly gave way as she pulled the needlepoint bag out from under the bed and packed it with the things she had been mentally planning to take with her: all the money from Lester’s cash box that she’d hidden beneath the mattress, the clothes she’d been given, the gun Jack had given her, and lastly the deck of tarot cards he’d also given her.
Holding the deck in her right hand, she paused and drew a breath. An urge came over her, and she looked down at the cards. Never had she done a reading on herself. Adah passed the deck into her other hand and then back again. Struck with certainty and curiosity, she removed the rubber band that held the cards together and then shuffled once, twice, three times. Then cut twice with her left hand, gathered the cards back together, and turned three cards over, faceup.
She stared with wide-open eyes, then studied the cards again to be certain she was seeing straight.
It was not what she’d expected.
Thunder roared out of the sky and shook the house. Adah looked at Daisy and found her still asleep. Once Daisy fell into slumber, only a bad dream could usually awaken her before morning, and Adah was grateful for that as she heard another huge rumble of thunder, even closer and louder.
She went to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Lightning was brightening the sky in bursts and sprinting across the black expanse, touching the ground like some spidery creature dancing a jig with its white-hot legs. It was beautiful, a display of the power of nature, more dramatic than a fireworks show.
She left the window, lay down
next to Daisy, and tried to close her eyes.
There was a moment of pure silence, in which she heard the thumping of her heart.
Then a monumental cracking noise came from outside, as though the sky had broken in two. Adah jumped up, returned to the window, and saw in the distance, perhaps a farm or two over, that a structure was burning. It must have been struck by lightning.
With those cracks of electricity still illuminating the landscape in eerie silver-blue light, she could see the top of that faraway structure releasing a burst of fizzles. And then even farther away, a plume of smoke. This was an electrical storm like no other; it was striking nearby buildings, and it raised all the tiny hairs on Adah’s arms.
Then a boom and a crack that actually did move the house, as though it had come from the earth and not the sky. Now the dogs were wildly barking. Several minutes passed with only the sounds of the storm and the dogs before she heard footsteps on the wood-plank flooring in the house, and then Buck’s voice. A band of light stretched beneath the door; the hallway fixture had been turned on.
She thought she heard him say, “The barn’s hit.”
As if by miracle, Daisy was yet still sleeping through it all. Wearing only her nightgown, Adah went to the bedroom door, flung it open, and took a step out. Jesse was already flying down the steps like a man running for his life, and Buck was hitching up his pants.
He took quick note of Adah and commanded, “The barn’s afire. Throw something on and come help.” Adah nodded and watched Buck lumber down the steps. He darted a panicked glance back at her as he reached the bottom of the stairwell. “What you standing there for? Go on and git yourself decent. We need your help.”
Buck disappeared out the front door, and then something new reached in and grabbed hold of Adah’s heart with a trembling fist. Instead of following Buck’s orders, she ran to the window in the hallway that looked out over the farm’s outbuildings and saw what Buck had seen. The roof of the livestock barn was afire. Licks of molten light glowed brighter as the wind blew in bursts to spread the flames.
The River Widow Page 24
