by Jo Goodman
When she fell quiet, somewhat abruptly, Israel took advantage of the cover of darkness to ask, “Are you thinking about the promises you made to Eli?”
Willa did not rush her response. She offered a shade diffidently, “I was. But also the promises he made to me. It all seemed like lies afterward. I imagine he felt the same. I don’t know how we could have felt differently, not then, not when we had so little understanding of consequences.”
“You mean Annalea. She was a consequence?”
“Hmm.” Willa turned a bit more on her side and slid an arm across Israel’s chest. “A consequence and a complication.”
“Eli doesn’t know, does he?”
“No. And if I have my way, he never will.”
“He’ll never learn it from me.”
“I know. I should have never let you believe I thought otherwise. I didn’t, not for a moment, but talking about it is still one of those things that frightens me.”
“You don’t have to say another word.”
“I think I do,” she said quietly. “I think I need to tell you what I’ve never told anyone.” She lifted her head a fraction. The meager light from the stove limned his features. He was looking at her, waiting but not rushing.
She said it again. “Not anyone.”
Chapter Twenty
“There are only a few people who know Annalea is my daughter. Happy and Mama knew, of course. Zach worked for us back then. I don’t know if anyone told him outright or if he figured it out on his own, but I’m confident he knows as much as my parents did. And now there is you. There were some other hands at the ranch, but except for Zach, Happy let them all go sometime after I left for Saint Louis with Mama and before she returned with Annalea.”
“No one in Jupiter suspected?” Israel asked. “I know the valley is isolated, but she would have been seen occasionally in town.”
“She made certain she was. That was the point of going there as often as she did in those days. She did not stay with me for the duration of my confinement. She traveled back and forth to visit, to see that I was well, but also to measure my progress. Her pillow pregnancy—and that is all that it was—matched mine. Friends discouraged her from going to see me when she was so close to term, but naturally she was insistent, and when she gave birth in Saint Louis, not one of them was surprised that the train ride had brought on labor. Mama took Annalea back to Pancake Valley, and I remained behind to be schooled in the way of young ladies, but mostly to make amends for my sin. Mama and Annalea visited occasionally, even Happy came once, but I was not allowed to return until Eli was sent away to college.”
Israel fingers sifted through Willa’s hair. “Was there ever any thought given to telling Eli?”
“Never. There was the valley to think of. My parents were afraid, and rightfully so, that the Barbers would claim Annalea in order to lay claim to Pancake Valley as well.”
“But doesn’t that also work in reverse? That Annalea, as a Barber, has an equally legitimate claim to Big Bar land.”
“Please don’t refer to her as a Barber. I cannot think of her that way. She’s mine. Just mine.”
Israel kissed the crown of her head. “I understand.”
“As for the other,” said Willa, “you’re probably right, but you can appreciate it was not a matter Happy wanted to discuss with a lawyer. I would have had to swear to the fact that Eli was Annalea’s father, and I couldn’t do that.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t imagine you could.”
“You think I loved him that much, don’t you?”
“Didn’t you?”
“It felt as if I did, but that is not the reason I couldn’t speak up. It is not the reason I was protecting Eli. Here is what no one else knows, Israel. Eli is not Annalea’s father. Malcolm is. Malcolm Barber raped me.”
Israel closed his eyes. “Oh, Jesus.”
“Mm.”
“Sweet Jesus,” he said under his breath.
As close as she was to him, it was not close enough to keep her from shivering. Willa thought she could crawl under his skin and still not be warm.
Israel tucked one of the blankets around her with no expectation that it would help. He did it because he needed to do something and he had no idea what that was.
“It’s all right,” she said, rubbing his chest with her palm. “I think ‘sweet Jesus’ is adequate. I don’t know what else there is to say, and certainly there is nothing to do, although I doubt it feels that way at the moment.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t feel that way. You never told your parents it wasn’t Eli?”
“I never told them that it was,” she said. “They assumed it, and it was better for everyone to let them keep on thinking it. Even at thirteen, I understood that. Happy would have gone after Mal, and mostly likely got himself shot dead for it. Or maybe Mal would’ve been killed, and Happy would have hanged. I don’t know that anyone outside of my parents would have believed what Malcolm did to me. With so much bad blood between the families, there would have been plenty of folks speculating whether I’d been put up to it. Mal’s father was alive then. Ezra might have believed me. He was as cruel a cuss as Malcolm, so he could have suspected his son was capable of it. The apple did not fall far from that tree either.”
“Does Malcolm suspect he’s Annalea’s father?”
“You’re a step ahead of yourself. In order for him to suspect that Annalea is his, he’d have to suspect that Annalea is mine. Happy and Mama covered those tracks. I don’t think he’s ever had a hint of it, and he’s never given any indication that he has.”
“Unless you look at Eli’s proposals in a different light. Malcolm knew you would never have him. But his son? Maybe Malcolm’s always believed that was a possibility.”
It was a disturbing thought, one that she had never allowed herself to contemplate. She said, “He only had me the once. He probably doesn’t even think it can happen with just the one time, and maybe he thinks my womb would expel his rape seed because, God knows, I wanted that to happen. I wanted to tear my insides out when I realized I was carrying his child. Devil child, that’s what Annalea was to me before I met her, and then Mama took her away to raise as my sister, and that’s mostly what she was to me until Mama died and Happy went a little crazy with grief. I had to be mother to her then. Sometimes father as well. I loved her the same, but differently, too. I try not to think of her as my daughter, for her sake, because it’s safer, but also for my own because of the fear that still lives inside me.”
Israel caressed the arm that she had slipped across his chest. He stroked it with his fingertips from wrist to elbow and back again and felt her relax, not only there, but everywhere her body was pressed to his. Perhaps what she needed just then was simpler than what he could do for her, perhaps it was what he could be for her: sanctuary.
He only had me the once, she had said. The words marched up his spine like a thousand fire ants and settled, burning as hot as a match head, at the base of his brain.
When the burn finally subsided, he felt as if he’d been branded. He saw that brand clearly in his mind’s eye, the words of the Sixth Commandment, one of the three he had never broken. Thou shalt not kill.
For the first time, he wondered if he could hold with that.
Willa spoke into the quiet. “I went to meet Eli at the same place I always met him, not far from the fence, but on Pancake land. Sometimes we’d climb into the trees to talk, where we were certain we couldn’t be seen. I was up there for a while, but he didn’t come, and I climbed down. I wasn’t concerned when he didn’t show. Sometimes that happened because we had chores and studies and other things to keep us away. I wasn’t expecting Malcolm Barber to be there when I swung to the ground. I will never know how long he watched me in that tree, waiting.
“Eli and I had kept our trysts secret for years. Our parents found out that we wer
e meeting about a month or so before Malcolm showed up. As you might imagine, we were told to stay away from each other, and we knew this because naturally enough we met again and compared stories. My parents lectured me. Eli got a lecture from his mother and an appointment in the woodshed with his father. If I’d been given a choice of what Malcolm Barber might do to me back then, I would have asked for the woodshed.
“That’s not as easy to say now, not when I have Annalea. Besides what Happy would have done had he known the truth, I had no illusions that my parents would want to raise Malcolm Barber’s devil child. As much as I did not want to give birth to it, I did not want to be forced to give it away. I had some idea that I would need to protect people from the child, especially foolish people who might claim they wanted it. In the end, the only thing I had to protect from Annalea was my own heart, and there was never any chance that I would succeed.”
Israel paused his caress at her elbow and squeezed lightly. “No chance,” he said. “None.”
That made Willa smile. It felt good, cleansing. “You love her, don’t you?”
“I do. I’m fairly certain I loved her first. You were an acquired taste.”
“Was I?” Her smile became a grin. “I think that’s good.”
“Mm. It probably is.” He returned to stroking her forearm. “Caring about Annalea the way I do, I am reminded that she put a note in my coat pocket regarding several books she would like to read.”
“Did she?”
“Also some ribbons and two handkerchiefs with lace borders if such can be found and plain if not.”
“Well, isn’t she a sly one? You better believe there is no such note in my pockets.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but I have a target on my back and a soft spot where I used to have a brain. She knows I will always owe her.”
Willa did not try to argue the point. She couldn’t, not when it was true for her as well. “All right,” she said agreeably, sleepily. She closed her eyes. “We’ll have cake for breakfast and shop before we leave. I think we should purchase something for Happy, too. Maybe a deck of cards. He’d like that. Do you know, Israel, if I had ever imagined a honeymoon, it would be exactly this.”
Israel’s shoulder and arm had no feeling left in them from where she lay against him, but not for anything would he have moved. This was who he wanted to be, the man who had earned the right to shelter her.
* * *
Falling snow impeded their progress back to Pancake Valley, so it was late in the afternoon before they arrived. Neither of them was surprised to see Annalea come charging out of the house to meet them. Before she had a chance to speak, Israel reached for her and lifted her onto his saddle.
“Hello, brat,” he said, grinning. He gave her pigtails a tug for good measure. “You should have a coat on. Where is it?”
“Inside. You better hug me.”
He did and then burst out laughing. “Are you really going through my pockets?” Before she could answer, he looked sideways at Willa and pretended to be appalled. “She’s going through my pockets.”
Willa shrugged helplessly. He’d earned the moment, so she let him enjoy it.
Israel drew back, caught Annalea by her chin, and said with mock severity, “If you’re going to be a pickpocket, you have to choose better pockets to pick. What you’re looking for is in your sister’s saddlebag.” Israel winced as she squealed with excitement in spite of the hold he had on her.
As soon as they reached the front of the house, he lowered her to the steps and told her to get inside, where it was warm. “Willa and I will be along directly.”
He held up Galahad long enough to make sure Annalea got in the house and then he caught up to Willa on her way to the barn. “I thought she would be full of piss and vinegar because we stayed away so long.”
Willa smiled. “I’m sure she will be eventually, but she knows we brought back things for her. That will help.”
“So piss or vinegar, but not both at the same time. That’s a relief.”
Chuckling, Willa dismounted to open the barn door.
Israel also swung down and took up the reins of her horse as well as his and led them inside. “Did you hear what Annalea said before she went in the house?”
“No. I didn’t know she said anything.”
“I’m not sure I heard her right. The door was closing behind her, but I thought she said that we missed the excitement. I wonder what she meant by it.”
“If that’s what she said, it could be anything. Cutter might have finally beat Zach at checkers, or Happy could have drawn to an inside straight. Maybe Annalea mastered those scales you were teaching her last week. See? Could be anything.” She took Felicity’s reins from Israel and led her to her stall.
Israel followed suit with Galahad. He untied the girth strap and removed the saddle. “A little strange that Annalea was the only one to greet us. Where do you think everyone else is?”
“Happy is probably making supper and Zach and Cutter could be anywhere. There’s plenty for them to do because we were gone.” Willa finished removing Felicity’s tack and blanket and picked up a grooming brush. “What I said about Happy drawing to an inside straight? That got me thinking again.”
“Oh? What about?” Israel brushed Galahad in the long even strokes that the gelding liked and patted him on the jaw.
Willa stepped out of the stall so she could see Israel. “About poker. You don’t play. You haven’t since you’ve been here. Sure, you play a game now and then with Annalea, but she says you prefer Old Maid or rummy. You don’t take a chair when Happy and the others invite you.” Now that she had his full attention, she disappeared into the stall and began brushing down Felicity’s glossy coat. “I guess it’s been niggling at me since you told me you used to play cards on the riverboats. Hard to believe you played Old Maid then.”
After a brief pause that made Galahad stir restlessly, Israel resumed brushing and calmed his horse. “Do you also recall that I said I’m a good player?” When she said that she did, he continued. “Sometimes being good can get you in as much trouble as playing with an ace up your sleeve. What I’m saying is that being good can look like cheating. I’ve been tossed into the drink from the Texas deck of a riverboat. That’s the top deck. I was lucky not to get swept up in the paddlewheel, which I have to believe was the hope of everyone that I cleaned out that night. It’s not that I gave up playing entirely after that, but that I chose the games more carefully. It wouldn’t be fair for me to play here. I’d win too often, and it’s not in me to purposely lose. I like your father and Zach and Cutter. I want it to stay friendly.”
“What would entice you to play?”
“Here? Nothing. But I might enter a game if I saw someone dealing from the bottom. There’s no point in calling him out if I can clean him out. There’s something satisfying about besting a cheater.”
Willa finished with Felicity and waited for Israel outside Galahad’s stall, Annalea’s gifts bundled under one arm. “I’m thinking that a lifetime in your company won’t be long enough to figure you out. You draw a peculiar line, Israel.”
“I didn’t always draw one,” he said, putting down the brush.
“I know.” She slipped her free arm through the elbow he offered and they walked out of the barn together. “I don’t suppose it will ever be a straight line, but the meandering one sure is interesting.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Happy was standing at the stove, his head bent over the stockpot, when Israel and Willa entered through the back door. He did not look up until he had breathed in deeply. The aroma of ham and beans and cornbread filled the kitchen, but he preferred sniffing straight from the pot.
“You’re not going to drown yourself, are you, Happy?” asked Israel.
Grinning, Happy set the lid back on the pot loosely enough to allow the scented steam to escape. He cracked open
the oven door to peek at the progress of the cornbread. Satisfied, he closed it again. “I might. I figure it’s that good. Welcome home. Annalea informed me you were back. Hear that?” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the front room, where Annalea was practicing her scales with a fluid ease that was rather impressive. “She’s been doing that all morning. Teach her more tunes, Israel. Some Stephen Foster would be real kind to my ears about now.”
“I can do that,” said Israel. “Annalea mentioned we missed some kind of excitement. Is that it?”
“Is what it?”
“Her mastery of the scales.” He pointed to Willa while he spoke to Happy. “Certain people think that might be considered excitement around here.”
“Hell, no,” said Happy. “Probably best that you both have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Willa set Annalea’s gifts on the table so she could remove her coat. After she stuffed her gloves in her pockets, she gave her coat and hat to Israel to hang up with his own.
“We have some things to give Annalea first, and then we’ll be back. And, Pa?” When Happy regarded her suspiciously, expecting trouble, she was prepared. She raised her left hand and showed him the ring. His eyes watered, and she wasn’t prepared for that or the fact that hers watered as well.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She wanted to say more, but tears clogged her throat and made that impossible. Her wobbly smile simply dissolved and then her arms were around him and his were around her and they just stood like that until the ham and bean soup bubbled up under the lid and splashed them.
Israel watched as they jumped apart and away from the stove and saw that neither one quite met the other’s eye, but he judged that the shift in the air could only be the start of something good.
He picked up Annalea’s gifts and invited Happy to join them in the front room. Happy declined, saying he needed to watch the pot, and Israel let the lie go unchallenged. He put a hand at the small of Willa’s back and nudged her forward. She was as much in need of a moment to compose herself as her father. Israel gave it to her before they walked in on Annalea because there would be no composure in the face of her excitement.
