by Lee Savino
“I know you are, dear Carrie. It’s over. You’re forgiven.” He kissed her over and over, then swung her up and carried her to the bed. They lay entwined, her cheek on his chest, rising and falling with his breath.
“I’m a horrible, horrible woman,” she whispered.
“What’s that now?”
She tipped her head up to look at her husband. “I must apologize to him.”
“We’ll go over tomorrow,” Miles promised.
“I never thought I could say those things to anyone, much less shout them in the street. Am I an evil woman?”
“No, love, not at all. You spoke out of anger, that’s all.”
*****
The next day they rode to Wilder’s homestead. Carrie rode very gingerly, hanging on to Miles. Wilder’s land lay just to the north of the Donovan’s property, through a thick pine woods. Miles guided Monty down a path beside the stream, and soon they broke out of the woods into a small clearing.
But as they approached Lyle’s home, Carrie clutched Miles tighter. The cabin was about the same size as theirs, but seemed a dark, rude hut compared. No light came through the windows, and the door sagged open.
Miles dismounted and went forward, Carrie kept herself from calling out for him to be careful. One breath of wind and the whole place might come tumbling down. After peering into the dark space, Miles came back, shaking his head.
“He’s not here. May not have lived here for some time.” Miles put a hand on Monty as if he needed something to lean on. “I didn’t know it was this bad,” he muttered.
“Has he given up the land?”
“If he had, I’d have heard talk of it. Of course, if he deserts it like this, it’s fair game for someone else to come and claim it.”
He remounted, and Carrie hung on as he spurred their mount home. She risked one glance back at the lonely, forbidding place and shivered. The empty cabin cast Lyle in a new light, and she felt even worse about confronting the man. The more she thought of his proud actions through the lens of tragedy, the more he seemed a pathetic creature, a child starved of love, acting out to get attention. Her angry words seemed even more cruel.
Dinner was a quiet affair.
“What will you do?” she finally asked.
Miles set down his spoon. He looked like he’d aged ten years. “I need to find him. Should’ve reached out a long time ago. This Sunday I’ll give word to Martin to look out for him.”
“You wish to reconcile?” Her eyes widened.
“I do. Should’ve done it a long time ago, but I was stubborn. Hard and judgmental.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth. I never condoned of his marriage, and told him of it. When he took Mary to wife, I made it clear I did not approve of her.”
“Why not?” Carrie felt a pang, a premonition, but could not stop herself from asking.
“She was a whore,” Miles said. The planes of his face seemed to harden. “A painted lady who worked in the saloons of Colorado Springs.” He continued, not noticing Carrie had gone very quiet. “I thought he should find a woman who was chaste and good. Like you.” He took Carrie’s hand and she started at his touch. “I thought only to protect my friend. He didn’t see it that way.”
As soon as she could, Carrie slipped her hand from her husband’s grip and started to clear her place, careful to keep her face turned away.
“We quarreled, and parted ways. Then she sickened, and died. And I didn’t help him.”
Carrie risked a glance back. Miles had his fist clenched on the table and head tilted like he was looking through time.
“I did wrong,” Miles said. “And I must do right by him now.”
She waited until he’d left the cabin before sinking down on the hearth. There was no hope now. She could never be with Miles. For if he refused to accept his friend’s wife, how would he react when he found out her secret?
*****
The next morning, she rose bleary eyed and shaky. All night she’d dreamed of the dark cabin, and an evil man lurking there.
Miles noticed it at breakfast. “You all right, wife?”
“Yes, husband.” She gave a weak smile. “Just didn’t sleep well.”
“Your dreams are getting worse.”
“Did I bother you?”
“You cry out sometimes, and thrash about.” He caught her hand as she passed, worry crossing his face. “What’s wrong, Carrie?”
She chewed her lip, wondering if she could spill her secret. Not yet, she decided, looking at his concerned expression. But soon. She couldn’t bear it much longer. “Just the nightmares. I dreamt of Mr. Wilder’s cabin.”
“Did it frighten you that much?” He set down his fork.
Shivering, she moved closer, but he made no move to touch her. “It just seemed so desolate. The thought of Lyle living there alone, after nursing his wife and watching her die...”
“Sweet Carrie. It’s all right. Mary was always sickly, even before she came to be Mrs. Wilder. You’ll not share her same fate.”
“I know that,” she said softly.
The rest of the week passed slowly, with Carrie’s dreams growing worse. All day she jumped at shadows and thought of her sins catching up to her.
The next Sunday, before church, they stopped at the store and Miles gave his message to Mr. Martin.
Miles left the store, frowning. “Martin hasn’t seen him since the last mail stop. He thinks Wilder is spending more time in Florence, or Colorado Springs.”
“Does he have family in these parts?”
“A vagabond brother named Jesse. His late wife Mary had some family, I believe, in Colorado Springs.”
“Perhaps he’s staying with them.”
“Perhaps.” Miles kept frowning and when she went to take his hand, he shook her off.
*****
They arrived late to church, and Carrie gratefully slipped in under the cover of the hymn. Esther tried to catch her eye, but Carrie shrank back behind Miles and kept her eyes down. She could never befriend anyone, ever again. She was a fool to think she could escape her past.
At one point the Reverend quoted the bible. “Your sins will find you out.”
Carrie went white and hunkered down in her seat.
Miles leaned down. “Something the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said too quickly. She pretended to play with the fringe on her shawl, hoping he wouldn’t see her discomfort.
His hand found hers and squeezed it, but as soon as she could, she pulled her hand away.
She kept her eyes down on the ground for the rest of the sermon. The thought of Miles believing she was a good wife made her sick to her stomach. Of course her sin would catch up with her. She’d known it all along. The people at home were right; she was an unclean woman, and should be punished for the rest of her life.
After the Reverend said the final prayer, Miles stood to greet the rest of the townspeople, and catch up on the news, while Carrie remained sitting quietly.
A rustle of skirts heralded her friend.
“My dear,” Esther said, seating herself close. “Are you feeling well?”
“Just a poor stomach, that’s all.”
“I have a remedy for that, if you wish.”
Eyes still on the floor, Carrie nodded.
Esther hurried away, and after a minute, Carrie heard them speaking about her.
“If she’s feeling poorly, she’s welcome to lie down here,” Esther said.
“No.” Miles put his hand on Carrie’s shoulder. “I thank you, Mrs. Shepherd, but we’ll be returning home.”
On the way home, he put his hand on her knee and nearly stopped the wagon.
“Carrie, what’s wrong?”
“I’m just ill,” she mumbled when she felt his handkerchief on her face.
“You’re crying.”
“I’m just thinking on the sermon.”
He let the matter lie for a few miles, then frowned down at her. “Is
there something you want to tell me?”
She shook her head, and bit her lip.
Back at the cabin, she sat down listlessly at her sewing. Finally, Miles took her hand and led her to the chair.
“No,” she said, pulling away once she realized he was starting her Sunday maintenance. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Carrie,” he admonished, holding out his hand. “Let us talk and then get it over with. You’ll feel better.”
“No, Miles.” She let the tears fall then. “You don’t understand. The spanking won’t help. Nothing will take my sin away. Nothing.”
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
“I cannot.” She shook her head, realizing she could never tell him the truth. The betrayal would be too great.
But she had to make him understand.
“When I first met you, I swore I would not allow myself to sin again. I tried so hard to be better. I’m sorry, Miles. You deserve someone good.”
“Carrie, what do you mean by this? I don’t want another. I love you.”
“You shouldn’t love me,” she whispered. “I cannot be a wife to you.”
His face grew hard, like a shield thrown up between them. “I don’t understand.” He started across the room towards her. “Carrie, if you would just tell me—”
“No, stay away from me,” she cried.
Miles stopped, face stricken.
Even though it hurt like a dagger in her heart, she had to make him understand. “I cannot fall in love with you. You must believe me.”
Her words fell like a blow; she watched them hit him and knock him back.
“Are you sure?” he said finally.
“I am sure. I’m sorry it took me so long to know. But I can never love you.” It will bring us both to ruin, like Lyle and his lady love.
Slowly, Miles’ head sank onto his chest. Reaching out, he took up his hat and settled it onto his head.
Carrie watched him walk to the door. She could tell he was hurting, but she couldn’t stop him. She had to let him go.
He stopped in the door, the light silhouetting the harsh planes of his face.
“I know I am a hard man, but I had hoped you could one day find it in your heart to love me.”
He waited for a moment, but she didn’t know what to say. With a heavy step, he went out the door.
She waited a few minutes, feeling numb. Once she was sure he was gone, she grabbed a shawl and a blanket, and made a bundle with some food. Her marriage had failed, and she had no recourse but to run.
The horses nickered as she passed their corral. Belle and her foal watched her go. Monty trotted along the fence, following her as far as he could.
“It’s better this way,” she told them, and ran to the forest, Monty’s frantic whinnies echoing in her ears.
The woods were dark and thick as she pushed her way through the pines. She quickly lost her way through the pines and stumbled blindly through the branches that tore at her.
It began to rain. Most of the drops were caught by the thick canopy overhead, but she could hear the torrent drumming on the leaves. It grew colder, and she knew she’d need to find shelter for the night, but the trees pressed in from all sides until she could barely see.
The rain started in earnest, and she was almost blind, running and sobbing. She never should’ve left Miles. She should’ve told him the truth and let him do what he would with her. He would cast her out, but maybe he’d send her with fare to go home. She could’ve taken it and left, not for home, because there was no place for her there anymore. But perhaps she could’ve gone back to town, and perhaps take a stagecoach to a mining camp and work there, or on to California.
The storm overhead blew up so quickly. She could hear the trees tossing above her head. Their trunks creaked restlessly, and she wondered if she should lie down and hope they would fall and bury her.
But did she really want to die? Or just escape?
Hope came in the form of a clearing. She stumbled out of the woods, peering through the rain to see the neglected homestead. Lyle’s cabin sat eerie and alone, dark wood stained with the water.
Then lightning cracked overhead and she shrieked, dropping and covering her head out of instinct. She could feel the storm’s energy surging over the ground, seeking a victim.
“Carrie,” someone called. On the opposite side of the clearing, Miles pushed his ride out of the trees, just in time for thunder to boom out just over their heads. The horse reared a little in surprise, and Carrie could hear both man and beast crying out. She stood, torn in the middle of the field, wanting to run to shelter, but also go back to help with the frightened horse.
She saw Miles had dismounted, and calmed his mount, but then lighting sizzled again. She covered her ears, blinking her eyes to clear them of the white light. Before her, the cabin’s door gaped open like a dark maw. She staggered to the porch and grasped the rail.
“Stop.” Miles’ voice cracked with authority. “Don’t go in there!”
The cabin smelled the mustiness of disease and disuse. She recoiled and looked back and saw Miles running towards her, even as great sheets of rain fell between them.
“No, Carrie, get back!” His command moved her frozen limbs, and she stumbled backwards from the cabin into Miles’ arms. His arms pulled her away, inserting his broad body between her and the creaking structure.
Again, lightning sliced down, blinding them. It hit the cabin as the thunder roared above them. Miles dropped to the ground, covering her with his body. Together they watched the rickety shack collapse with a creaking groan.
As the rain beat down, Carrie lay her face in grass. She didn’t know if she was sobbing or just feeling the rain beat her face.
Miles waited, then rose and scooped her up. He ran through the rain with her in his arms, dashing towards the copse as the sky boiled and lightning continued to scythe through the angry clouds. They curled together at the foot of an old tree, Monty standing nearby.
She kept her eyes closed and her body pressed to his strong one. Finally, as the storm passed and left a steady, cleansing rain, she found his heartbeat under her ear and listened to the sound of life. Not once did he let her go.
He had come for her. He’d not let her leave, and then he’d saved her life.
Once the rain had died to a whisper, she gripped his shirt to raise herself up. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did.” He looked tired, but triumphant, face washed with rain. “You’re mine, Carrie girl.”
Her hand laid against his face to make sure he was real.
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, shaking her a little. “I don’t deserve you. I left home young, ran to the West. Settled here and lived alone. All work, never laughter, never smiles, never anything more than hardship. You came to me like sun breaking over the mountains. I’ll never let you go. Never. Not even if every star falls from the sky will I allow you to run.”
She was crying again, but against his face, his beard scratching her as he kissed her lips.
“You came to marry me. I love you, Carrie Donovan. I want you to stay with me.”
Above them, Monty whickered as if to say, all well and good, but I’m standing in the rain.
Carrie couldn’t help it, she laughed. When she looked at her husband again, he was smiling.
“Come on, let’s go home.”
Before they rode, Miles tucked a blanket around her. “Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured. “Promise me, Carrie, you won’t ever run from me.”
“I promise,” she said and he kissed her again, before turning Monty home.
Back at the homestead, she undressed quickly while Miles built up the fire. The weather had turned colder on the heels of the late summer storm. Miles wrapped her in blankets and settled her close to the fire. He heated water and bathed her limbs and face, wiping away mud and cleaning out the cuts the branches gave her.
“Stay here,” he said,
pulling her chair closer to the fire and placing her feet on a warming stone. “Stay here. I’ll see to Monty.”
When he came back, he stripped. She watched his body move in the glowing firelight, muscles stretching and flexing.
“Into the bed,” Miles directed her, crawling in after her.
She settled facing him, fear growing in her heart again.
Miles turned his serious eyes onto her. “Now, Carrie girl. I’ve let you keep your own counsel, but no longer. You need to tell me.”
“I’m afraid,” she said.
“Trust me, Carrie. When did I ever prove that I wouldn’t treat you well?” His right hand stroked back her wet hair.
She turned her head and kissed it. “It’s not that. I deserve to be punished, every day of my life and more besides,” she said, tears running down her face.
“My sweet wife. What have you done?”
His words broke her.
“I’m a horrible wife,” she sobbed. “Our marriage was ruined from the start.”
“Don’t say that, Carrie.” He looked desperate, watching her cry. “If you told me you wished to return home, I would’ve sent you—”
“No, Miles, don’t send me away.” She clung to him. “I love you.”
He pulled her closer then, tucking her under his chin. His warmth seeped into her bones and soothed her.
“I didn’t mean to love you,” she said as she calmed. “It just happened. I know that love leads to wicked, evil things.”
He almost chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Too upset to speak, she shrugged.
“Has anything between us been wrong?”
“No,” she sniffled.
“Then tell me everything.”
“I will confess. But promise me, when you hear me, that you will not cast me out right away.”
“Carrie, I will not—”
Her arms around his neck tightened. “Promise me.”
He nodded.
Slowly, she unwound her arms and lay on her back so she would not see him. For a few more seconds, she focused on the joy of his long, heated body beside her. Then she began.
