I am Mrs. Jesse James

by Pat Wahler

  The gray, damp chill of November didn’t help. I shivered at the weather and viewed the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday with a grim eye, expecting a pitifully poor celebration for us. Jesse had warned me we were out of money. Until he could replenish our funds, we would have to buy from the mercantile using credit. I chafed at the way the clerk looked at me when I made a purchase, but with the children to think of, there was nothing I could do.

  Inside the tight quarters of the house, we nearly tripped over each other. It grated on me to see Charlie everywhere I looked, following Jesse like a shadow. Despite my misgivings about him, Charlie spoke polite words to me, yet they were oddly reminiscent of someone who didn’t really mean what he said. He kidded with Tim, the same way Jesse did, and told my son to call him ‘Cousin Charlie’.

  One day, Jesse brought home news I’d been waiting to hear. “I’ve found the perfect place for us. It stands high on a hill, taller than any other house in St. Joe. I can see anybody who comes near. And no one will be able to see me.”

  For once, I didn’t mind getting ready to leave. The new house wasn’t much more than a stone’s throw from where we were staying, so the move would be easier than many others had been. The only thing that bothered me was that it would take place on Christmas Eve.

  As we packed, Tim tugged at his papa’s pant leg. “But how will St. Nicholas find us?”

  “It will be an adventure,” Jesse told him. “Saint Nicholas is the one who showed me the house and said how much you’d love it. When it snows, you’ll have a fine hill to slide upon. If you’re good and help your mama, he’ll bring you some nice surprises on Christmas morning.”

  I wondered how Jesse planned to accomplish such a feat. We already owed the mercantile for food. I knew we wouldn’t be granted further credit to purchase toys.

  When we arrived at the new house, my worries diminished enough for me to smile. It had been recently whitewashed, and green shutters at each window made the place look cheerful and familiar. We hauled in boxes of household goods and clothes. Jesse and Charlie carried a few pieces of furniture inside, but the house already held most of what we needed. I unpacked my iron skillet, the large pot, and our plates.

  Jesse and Charlie talked to each other in whispers while I worked. Then they called a hasty good-bye in my direction and left. I paused from putting away dishes to notice the children’s drooping eyelids. I’d lost track of time.

  “You both need to go to sleep. Come along now.”

  “That’s right, Mary. St. Nicholas won’t come unless we’re asleep,” Tim announced, in a voice full of brotherly authority.

  I tucked them both in bed and rubbed my forehead. I didn’t want to think about Christmas morning. The thought of seeing hurt and disappointment in their eyes made my own sting with unshed tears. There had to be something I could do. Perhaps if I fixed a fine breakfast of flapjacks, they’d at least have something special to eat. I couldn’t remember if I had maple syrup and went to my knees, sorting through a box filled with food.

  Then the front door opened, and a cold wind swirled inside, startling me upright. Jesse carried in a small evergreen tree, and the scent of pine filled the room. Following him, Charlie held a box.

  “Here’s a tree with a few pretties to put under it for the children,” Jesse told me. Charlie put down the box, and Jesse reached inside. “How about this? A painted sled for Tim. He can use it to slide down the hill, or I can pull him behind my horse. And don’t you think Mary will like her?” He showed me a cloth doll dressed in blue indigo and wearing a bonnet.

  Tears of relief and exhaustion filled my eyes. I clasped my hands together over my heart. “Oh, thank you. I was so afraid they’d wake up to nothing. That would have broken my heart.”

  “Well, we can’t have anything like that. Here.” He pulled a small bottle of my favorite lavender scent from his pocket. “For you, sweetheart.”

  Jesse had even gotten hold of a few ripe oranges, although heaven alone knew how. I couldn’t let my mind wander to the sorrow of where any of it had come from. I focused instead on the joy I would see in my children’s eyes.

  The tears spilled over. I hugged my husband and whispered, “But I have nothing to give you.”

  “Don’t you know you’re all I need? Now and always.”

  I smiled through my tears. Charlie blushed and slipped out the front door.

  32

  In January, Dick Liddil put an end to any speculation on his whereabouts and surrendered to authorities. Not long after, we heard Clarence Hite had been arrested. I knew Jesse would be shaken by the news and work himself into either frenzy or fury. Yet surprisingly, he remained remarkably calm, strolling about town and waving at others he met on the street as though nothing had happened. He even made jokes with me.

  “You’ll never guess what I did,” he said one day.

  I turned from the dry sink, wiping my hands, to look at him. His eyes glinted mischievously when I replied. “I can’t imagine. Do tell.”

  “I went to the train depot and saw they’d posted a sign looking for help.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did. I told the clerk I wanted to apply for the job because I’ve got plenty of experience with the railroad business.” He couldn’t hold a poker face any longer and slapped his knee with a loud guffaw.

  I could only shake my head at his impudence.

  After adding a column of figures early in March, Jesse showed me an advertisement in the newspaper.

  His voice lifted with excitement. “Look at this, Zee. Nearly one hundred sixty acres of good ranch land for sale up in Lincoln, Nebraska. I’m going to take a look at it.”

  “Really, Jesse? That sounds wonderful. Why don’t the children and I go with you?”

  “Sweetheart, there’s no point in you coming. I don’t even know yet if it will suit me. This time, I’ll just take Charlie along and get his opinion since he knows a lot about ranching. If I decide to make an offer, I’ll take you and the children to see it.”

  I turned away with a heavy sigh. “When will you leave?”

  “In a few days. On the way back, I plan to see Ma and John. You know my brother is doing poorly. I told her I’d visit him when I could.”

  As Jesse packed to go, Tim stuck to him like a cocklebur. He was growing old enough to miss his father’s presence at home.

  “Papa, do you think I could have a dog of my own? Then he could be my best friend. I always wanted a best friend.”

  Jesse looked over Tim’s head at me. I didn’t try to hide the tears brimming in my eyes.

  “Well, young man, that sounds like a fair enough request. If you promise to take care of a dog and not give another burden to your mama, I might be able to arrange something.”

  Tim’s face lit up and my heart soared. “Yes, sir. I promise to take care of the dog all by myself. Mama won’t have to do anything.”

  Jesse seemed to consider the matter for a moment then spoke the answer I knew he’d give our son. “I’ll keep my eyes open on this trip. And if I can find a dog who’s looking for a little boy to be his best friend, then I’ll be sure to bring him home to you.”

  “Oh, thank you, Papa! Can you please go and start looking now?” Jesse and Charlie laughed together as they put on their jackets.

  “Yes, I can, son. I’ll be back in a week or so, after we stop in to see your grandma and tie up some loose ends.” He turned to me. “I prefer you keep the doors shut and stay inside as much as you can. I don’t expect trouble, but we can’t be too careful. Your pistol is loaded and in the trunk. Don’t be afraid to use it if you need to.”

  I kept the little pocket pistol hidden. I hadn’t even fired the gun once since the time Jesse gave it to me. At the thought of using it, I dug my nails into my palms. “You know I’ll do whatever I must.”

  My words were sluggish and took more effort than usual. With Jesse eager to leave again, only Tim and Mary kept me from the temptation of my bed. When I talli
ed the miles we’d run, a resigned lethargy settled into the marrow of my bones and hovered, dark and persuasive.

  Tim stood at the window and traced a finger across the glass when his father rode away. I had to coax him from his post for dinner. “Tim, it will be a while before Papa comes home. You must eat.” He followed my request but dragged his feet all the way to the table.

  Not many days after Jesse and Charlie left, I wiped off the table while Tim and Mary played with marbles. Mary scattered them on the floor, and then chased them as they rolled. Tim didn’t scold her, even when she slipped a marble into the pocket of her calico dress and giggled. Then I heard a knock at the door.

  I stood frozen and the children looked up at me, wondering what to do. We had few acquaintances in St. Joseph, and none of them were close enough to come visiting. I peeked out the window in the same way Jesse always did. On the porch stood a tall, dark-haired man with whom I was not familiar. Torn between ignoring the knock, as Jesse had told me to do, and fearing the man might be carrying important tidings, I lifted my chin and straightened my shoulders.

  “Children, go into the bedroom,” I told them. Both had long been trained in the value of listening and obeying without question. Tim took Mary’s hand and led her from the parlor.

  “Who is it?” I called without opening the door.

  “This is Sam Boswell. I’m looking for Mr. Howard. I’ve got some information for him.”

  I took a deep breath, now wishing I had the comfort of a pistol in my hand and opened the door a sliver.

  The man smiled and held out a piece of paper. “Good evening, ma’am. Mr. Howard and I spoke at the drugstore last week, and he said he has interest in buying some land in Nebraska. I have a cousin who’s looking to sell his property. Could you please give his name and address to Mr. Howard?”

  A weight lifted from my shoulders, and I opened the door wider. “Yes, I will. Thank you, sir.”

  I took the paper and closed the door, shaking my head and wondering what my life had come to that even a simple visitor made me quiver like a trapped rabbit. When I turned around, I saw Tim coming from the bedroom. He had my pistol in his hand. With a sharp intake of breath, I rushed to his side. My fingers shook as I took the weapon away from him. “No, Tim. You must never handle a gun. Not until you’re older.”

  “But Papa said you should use it if someone comes around.”

  “That man meant us no harm, Tim,” I said, my heart still thumping wildly.

  “When Papa goes to the door, he always takes his gun.” “Listen to what I say. No guns until you’re older and Papa teaches you how to use them. When you’re big enough, you can go hunting with him. Now why don’t you and Mary go back to playing with the marbles?”

  With a child’s innocence, Tim considered my words and then went to get his sister. I told myself such incidents would not happen once we moved to Nebraska. We would have nothing to fear there. No reason to have a pistol in hand every time someone knocked at the door. I hoped Jesse would buy the land whether I saw it first or not. I wanted no more of running and hiding. No more fear of detectives or betrayals. I wanted a place where our children could go to school, have playmates, and feel safe. I knew the time had come for me to tell him I couldn’t run any longer.

  Blood hammered at my temples. I needed to keep busy, needed to keep my mind on providing for the children. I went to the pantry and found our flour and salt bags were nearly empty, so I bundled the children into their jackets, and much as I wanted to abide by Jesse’s warning, headed to the mercantile.

  The clerk, Mr. Sutter, stood behind the counter. He stared at me with cold eyes. “Please remind Mr. Howard your bill must be paid in full by the end of the month.”

  My face flamed with heat, and a well-dressed woman standing near enough to hear what he said stared down her nose at me. I nodded and, in a voice I could barely hear myself, asked for flour and a few fresh eggs. I kept my eyes focused on the children until he set the packages on the counter and picked them up with as much dignity as I could muster before I hurried out the door.

  Despite the brisk March wind, my cheeks didn’t cool until I’d reached home. I counted on my fingers the number of days Jesse had been gone and wondered when he’d return and how soon we could reach the safety of Nebraska.

  A week later, Jesse came through the front door and I ran to meet him, filled with nervous courage and ready to express my feelings no matter the cost. Instead, I stopped just short of his arms and stared. Charlie and a man I didn’t know, followed Jesse into the house.

  Charlie grinned and presented the stranger to me. “Mrs. Howard, this is my brother, Bob.”

  Bob was shorter and thinner than Charlie, with light brown hair and deep-set eyes. He smiled and extended a hand. For the sake of courtesy, I took it but did not smile in return. His palm felt damp and soft. I pulled my hand away and hid it in the folds of my skirt. When I turned to Jesse, my eyes narrowed.

  He downplayed my displeasure. “Sweetheart, Bob will be with us for a few weeks. I’ll be needing his help soon.”

  Anger swiftly replaced disappointment. “Children, please go to the bedroom and play.”

  At my abrupt tone, Tim took his sister’s hand and left with a curious backward glance as I turned back to Jesse.

  “May I speak with you in the kitchen?”

  He raised a brow and glanced at Charlie “You boys see to the horses.”

  Bob shrugged at Charlie, then pursed his mouth together as they headed for the door. Jesse followed me to the kitchen. I kept my voice low. “Why have you brought someone else into our home?”

  “I told you, I need his help. In case you’ve forgotten, there aren’t many left to lend a hand when I need one.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. And I haven’t forgotten the reasons they’re gone. Most of them are dead or in jail. Jesse, I want more for us than this. We must get away from Missouri like Frank and Annie have. We need to give our children a normal life. I believe your association with these men is dangerous to all of us.”

  Jesse opened his mouth to speak, then pressed his lips together in a tight line as though he’d thought better of it. Finally, he sighed and took my hands. “You’re overwrought. You must listen to me. I want the same things you do. I liked the land I saw in Nebraska, and plan to buy it. There’s a nice farmhouse with lots of room for us and the children. Think of it. No more nosy neighbors poking about in our business. This is a perfect opportunity, but you know how things are. My pockets are empty, and I must have money before we can do anything. I love you but remember that I make the decisions for our family. The Federals still owe us a debt. Just one more job, then I promise we’ll go.”

  “I’m begging you for the sake of our children. We must leave this place and these people. I don’t care what kind of work you do as long as it’s not what you’ve done in the past.”

  Jesse put his hand on his chest. “You can count on me this time, Zee. By all that’s holy, I swear it. No more after this. We’ll leave and never look back. Now let’s drop the subject.” He halted our conversation by calling out, “Tim, Mary!”

  At the sound of their father’s voice, the children rushed from the sleeping room to his arms. Jesse kissed Mary’s cheek and Tim grabbed his father’s jacket lapel. “Papa, did you find anything when you were gone?”

  “Anything? What do you mean by that?”

  “Did you find a dog? One who was looking for a little boy?”

  “Let me think.” Jesse made a show of furrowing his brows and then shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I didn’t find a dog.”

  Tim’s face fell, and he looked ready to cry.

  Then Jesse tickled under Tim’s arms until Tim couldn’t help giggling. “No, I didn’t find a dog. But I did find something else at my aunt Sallie’s house. Come with me.”

  Curiosity won out over disappointment. Tim followed his father to the door. On the front porch sat a box with a small white-and-brown puppy peeking over the top, whimpering fo
r someone to lift him out.

  “Oh, Papa!”

  Tim had no other words. He scooped the small bundle of fur into his arms, while the puppy squirmed and licked with wild enthusiasm. Tim laughed harder than I’d ever heard him before and the puppy chimed in, yapping with excitement.

  “Go and make up a nice bed for your little friend and give him some water. A puppy needs to learn manners, so you’ll have to teach him. Remember what I told you. He’s your job.”

  “Yes. Thank you, Papa. I will take care of him always.” Tim glanced at his sister. “Come with me, Mary. You can help.”

  Mary followed Tim with a hand stretched out, trying as best she could to get her fingers on the new addition to our family. A small measure of my determination wilted.

  “Thank you. That means so much to Tim. He’s had to miss out on too many things.”

  “He’s a good boy and deserves something special. And taking care of that puppy will help teach him responsibility. Someday he’ll be man of the house, you know.”

  “Not for a good long while, I hope. Please, Jesse, remember your promise.” My voice sounded pathetically pleading, even to my own ears.

  Jesse kissed me and smoothed my hair before he left the kitchen. For him, the issue was settled. I should have been pleased to hear about the farm in Nebraska, but my mind burned with shame and terror over what might yet happen.

  I went to the parlor and noticed my Bible sitting on the table. I picked it up, flipping through the dog-eared pages. Long ago, Jesse told me he’d asked the Mount Olivet Church to drop his name from their rolls because he wasn’t worthy for it to be there. I knew my husband had broken many of the ten commandments. I’d broken some, too. But the time had come to call a truce and seek forgiveness. I closed the Bible and sighed.

  Gazing through the window, I watched Jesse walk toward the horse shed with the Ford brothers. He clapped Charlie on the shoulder and laughed as though he hadn’t a care in the world. And even though the sun shone so intensely not one of them needed to wear a coat, a shiver rippled down my spine.