James came directly from the barn to the house.
“How is Odette?” he asked, as he flung his saddlebags over the back of a chair.
“Feeling much better. Jeanmarie is with her.” When James frowned, she added, “Odette doesn’t mind. She’s very patient with her. The last time I looked in, Jeanmarie was drawing the first four letters of the alphabet on the tablet. Doesn’t that beat all?”
James looked at his sister’s smiling face. She was pretty. Her eyes glowed, her cheeks were flushed. She appeared to be happier than he had seen her in a long time. Did it have anything to do with Ben Waller? It had occurred to James only recently how lonely it must be for her here. It was obvious that she and Jeanmarie had formed an attachment to Odette. Had it extended to Odette’s father?
“There’s something I want to talk to you about before Ben and Wiley come in and while the little mop-head is upstairs. Lordy, that kid is so smart, I’m sure she knows a lot more than we think she knows about things.”
“What do you mean?” A shiver of dread had traveled down Dory’s spine.
“She’s a talkative little imp, yet I’ve never heard her say a word to Louis or Milo. She took to Ben like a duck to water.”
“Well… you’ve heard the old saying that children and dogs know when people like them. Jeanmarie senses that our brothers don’t bear any love for us. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
James washed his hands in the basin and slushed water onto his face with his cupped hands.
“No,” he said while drying his face. “It’s something else.” After hanging the towel on the bar above the wash-bench, he ran a comb through his hair and straddled a chair. “I saw Chip Malone today.”
Dory’s hands stilled. “You went there?”
“I saw him in Spencer—at the saloon. Chip has always been fairly decent to me. A couple of times he’s called his men off when they would have picked a fight with me and some of my men.”
“Louis hates him with a most unreasonable hatred. It gets worse as the years go by. I realize that I’m partly responsible for that even though Louis doesn’t hate them out of any love for me.”
“Regardless of who hates who and why, I’m getting sick of hearing about it. Louis pushes so we’ll have more logs in the river than Malone, so we’ll cut more board feet at the mill. I was for getting the donkey engine. We’ll be able to snake the timber out easier and faster, but I’m not going to push my men to work sixteen-hour days in order to beat Malone to the river.”
“Is that what you and Chip talked about?”
“We talked about you and Jeanmarie.”
“Oh.” Dory couldn’t conceal the shudder of fear that went through her.
“Mrs. Malone is poorly. He wants you to bring Jeanmarie to see her.”
Dory drew in a deep breath. “He what?”
“Mrs. Malone wants to see her granddaughter.”
“So he admits that she’s Mick’s child? That’s the first I’ve heard of that.” Dory whirled around to face her brother. “I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t think he has anything in mind other than giving his sick wife the pleasure of being with Jeanmarie. He was sincere. I’d stake my life on it.”
“He was sincere all right,” Dory sputtered. “Sincere about getting me there and keeping my baby. If he did that it would take an army to get her back.”
“Think about it, but don’t think too long. Mrs. Malone hasn’t left her bed for a month.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, if it’s true. Mrs. Malone has been… kind. But, James, how do we know he’s telling the truth?”
“There’s ways of finding out. I talked to McHenry at the mercantile. He said that she’s not been in lately and the Malones have bought supplies for a sickroom.”
“I hadn’t thought of Mr. McHenry. Nevertheless, I don’t dare go to the Malones. It would be like sticking my neck in a noose.”
“Would you go if me and Waller went with you?”
“You and Ben? He wouldn’t go.”
“You want to bet on it? Well, think about it. It’s up to you.”
Dory changed the subject when she heard voices on the porch. She always grew edgy when the Malones were discussed.
“Steven was here today looking for Louis. Milo is on one of his tears.”
“How many did he fire this time?”
“Three, but Steven told them to stay and to keep out of sight until Milo sobered up.”
“It was stupid of Louis to leave the mill if Milo was drinking.”
Wiley and Ben came in. Ben’s head was wet and he had on clean clothes. He had bathed—something Dory had longed to do for the past several nights, but there was no chance with James and Ben in the house.
“How did it go today?” James asked after they had hung their coats on the pegs.
“Good. I’ll head back to the mill in the morning and get that monster ready to pull up to wherever you decide you want it.” Ben clapped Wiley on the shoulder. “This old man knows his stuff.”
Wiley beamed and shifted his chaw of tobacco from one cheek to the other.
“Wiley Potter, you spit out that chaw before you come to the table,” Dory said firmly, her smile taking the edge off her sharp words.
“Lucifer! I forgot ’bout it.” Wiley headed for the door and stepped outside. “Sure hate to waste a fresh chaw,” he said when he returned. “Ben took so long with his bathin’ I got tired a waitin’. It ain’t healthy to be washin’ so much. It ain’t stunted his growth none… yet, but it might’a addled his head.”
“Just when I was fixing to take this old codger with me and make him a partner in my own milling business, he has to go ruin things by talking against me. I’m going to need a good man to make hinges and hasps for doors and—”
Ben’s steel-gray eyes, alight with humor, flashed to Dory and darkened with concern. Her feet seemed to be glued to the floor. Her hand paused in midair, and her face was drained of color. Her eyes were flooded with tears.
“You can’t take Wiley,” she said with a sob. “You just can’t—I’d be here all alone.”
Then, to the amazement of the men watching, she burst into tears and ran out of the room.
Ben was stunned.
Wiley’s mouth dropped open.
James hurried after his sister. Ben could hear the low murmur of his voice coming from the darkened hallway leading to the stairs. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He would remember the haunted, desperate look in her eyes for as long as he lived. He had to put things right.
At the end of the hallway Dory was turned to the wall, her face buried in her bent arm. James stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.
“I’m… sorry. I’ll be… all right. Just give me a… minute.”
“You’ll not be left here alone, Sis. Wiley will stay as long as you want him. He dotes on you and Jeanmarie.”
“Ben will go and… take Odette.”
“Ah, Sis. We have no control over that. I didn’t realize you’d been so lonesome.”
“May I talk to her?” Ben asked.
James’s hand dropped from his sister’s shoulder. He looked into Ben’s face with a puzzled frown on his, then turned and walked back into the kitchen.
Ben moved to stand close behind Dory. He lifted his hand to touch her, but let it fall back to his side.
“Dory, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just talking to hear my head rattle. I’m not much for chit-chat and at times I talk without thinking. Not for the world would I lure Wiley away from you. He wouldn’t go anyway. He thinks the world of you.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Please don’t cry, Dory. Please.”
“I’m… not… cryin’.”
He turned her around and wiped a finger across her cheek. “Then what is this wet stuff on your cheeks?” he asked lightly.
She sniffed. “I don’t know what got into me. I’m… so ashamed.”
He gripped her shoulders with both hands. “You c
arry a load here on these shoulders. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Sometimes I wonder if this is all there is to life… just existing from day to day.”
Standing there, close to him, a naked hunger to be held possessed Dory. Her face was lifted to his. He was looking down at her. She could feel his warm breath on her wet cheeks. Their faces were only inches apart.
“Oh, Ben, life is so hard.” The sad note in her voice touched something deep in his heart.
“Yes, it is. But you’re strong. You’ve endured a lot and still hold your head high. You’ll not be whipped and cowed. You’ll come out on top.”
Then she was leaning against him, her cheek against his shoulder, and his arms were holding her loosely. She closed her eyes to savor the moment, and the fresh, clean scent of his leather vest crept into her senses. It was heaven, pure heaven. The palms of her hands were trapped between them. She moved them around his sides to his back. They stood for a long moment holding each other. Then he lowered his head and pressed her cheek tightly to his. It was a precious moment and a delicious weakness flooded through her.
“Ah… sweet, wonderful woman,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead gently. His gentleness was at odds with his desire to press her tightly to him. His heart raced with the need to find her lips with his and kiss her with fierce abandon. As he held her he felt as if he had found a part of himself that had been missing without his even being aware of it.
Dory didn’t know how much time had passed until she became aware that she was holding him tightly and moving her hands over his back. His whispered words had sent her senses reeling. She knew then that he was everything her soul had longed for. For just an instant she felt his lips touching her hair. Then he was holding her away from his strength, the warmth of his body. She kept her eyes on the hollow at the base of his brown throat.
“Feel better now?” he asked. “Are you still sore at me?”
“I wasn’t sore at you. I just felt as if I was losing everything. So much has happened lately.”
“You work hard and haven’t had much sleep.”
“I did last night. Odette is much better.”
“The thanks go to you and James. I would have lost her if not for you.”
“I don’t want thanks, Ben. James doesn’t either.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I think he likes Odette. He’s awfully concerned about her.”
Ben was still while thoughts ran crazily through his mind. Finally he said, “I appreciate his concern.”
“Would you object if it was more than just… concern?” Dory asked quietly.
“It wouldn’t come to that,” Ben said, not quite believing what he was saying. “James is a man and Odette is just a kid.”
“She said she’d be seventeen this summer. Some women have a couple of children by the time they are seventeen.” Dory didn’t think it necessary to mention that her own child had been born when she was that age.
“That may be, but James—”
“—James is twenty-four. He’s been doing a man’s work since he was fourteen. There’s not a better man anywhere than James even if he is reckless… at times. He’s good and kind and works hard.”
“Hold it.” He shook her shoulders gently. “You don’t have to sell me on your brother. I like him. I’m grateful for what he did for Odette. Don’t you think we’re getting the cart before the horse?”
Ben tried to make his voice light even though a premonition of rough water ahead engulfed him. He couldn’t let a man-woman attachment develop between Odette and James without his knowing for sure who her father was. How the hell could he explain that to Odette? There was another side of the coin, too. He had been with her for more than three years, and if it turned out she wasn’t his daughter, a lot of people would read something wicked in that, and it could spoil Odette’s chance of marrying a man of her choice.
CHAPTER
* 11 *
Dory filled a plate with food for Odette and Ben took it up to her. By the time he returned, supper was on the table, and he took his place beside Wiley. Jeanmarie, excited about having so much company and blissfully unaware of the tension at the table, chatted on and on until Dory gently reminded her to eat her supper. The little girl was enjoying herself. The grown-ups were not yelling at one another.
Dory listened to her daughter’s chatter with only half an ear. She was consumed with thoughts of what had happened between her and Ben in the darkened hallway. For a brief, wild moment she had known his closeness, his warmth, smelled his scent, had felt safe, even cherished. Then it was over.
Even while her body was touching his, she had felt him drawing away from her. And when they had talked about an attraction between Odette and James, he had drawn even farther away and had put up a shield between them. He obviously didn’t think her brother good enough for his daughter. Dory’s disappointment in him had been acute. She had felt as if the breath had been sucked out of her.
If James isn’t good enough for his daughter, a woman with an illegitimate child would certainly never be good enough for him.
Dory raised her head. Her eyes were caught and held by Ben’s. Sober eyes beneath straight dark brows searched her face. She felt something stir in the marrow of her bones and in the corner of her heart she had kept locked away. She recognized it for what it was: a hunger for love, a yearning for someone to share her thoughts, her dreams, her burdens. She lowered her eyes to her plate, afraid that her emotions would be too clearly revealed.
In her thoughts she talked to him. Because of my reputation you think I’m tarnished, and I suppose I am to a certain extent. But I’m not one bit sorry for having been with Mick. He needed me and I needed him. It just happened and afterward we both knew it had been wrong. Please don’t hold that against me. Out of my sin that summer came the most precious thing in my life. How could I be sorry for that?
Dear Ben. Give yourself the chance to know me. I would love you with all my heart and soul—love your daughter as if she were my own—stand beside you through good times and bad—work beside you all the days of our lives—
“Mama. Mama—”
“Sit still. I’ll get it, Sis.”
Dory looked up at James. “Get what?”
“Milk. Jeanmarie wants buttermilk.”
“I didn’t hear her. I must have been daydreaming.”
“It’s a easy plan, Ben,” Wiley was saying, and Dory wondered how long she had been in her dream world. “I could make ice tongs, if I had a way to smooth them down.”
“I’ve no doubt of that. Your nails and wedges are as good as any I’ve seen anywhere.”
“Careful, Ben. Brag on this old buzzard too much and he’ll get to thinking he’s worth cash money.” James set a small glass of buttermilk beside Jeanmarie’s plate and took his place at the table.
“Thank Uncle James, honey,” Dory prodded gently.
“Thank you.” Jeanmarie giggled happily. “I want to see Odette.” She tried to wriggle off her stool.
“Finish what you have on your plate first.”
Ben listened to Dory talk to her child. Her voice was musical as if she were trying to soothe an excited animal. She is a good mother, he thought, remembering his aunt reaching across the table and rapping his knuckles with a spoon if he as much as dropped a crumb on the table or left a bite on his plate. Dory had not even spoken harshly to the child when, during the noon meal, Jeanmarie had waved her spoon around and flung food over the table. Dory had taken the spoon from her hand and reminded her that it should be left on her plate when she wasn’t using it.
Jeanmarie put the last bite of food from her plate into her mouth and looked expectantly at her mother. Dory lifted her off the stool.
“We’ll go see how Odette is doing.”
James waited until he was sure his sister and Jeanmarie were on the way up the stairs before he spoke.
“I heard some news in Spencer today. McHenry told me that two more women have been killed—strangled and
their heads bashed in. One in Pitzer, one down on the Saint Joe. That makes three that they know of since Christmas.”
“Hell and damnation!” Wiley exclaimed. “Off and on fer the last few years there’s been stories ’bout murdered women. It’s been laid to drunk Indians. One feller was hung ’cause he was last with a whore what was found in her bed with her throat cut. Feller swore with his dyin’ breath he didn’t do it.”
“The latest were whores too.” James leaned back in his chair. “All the women were killed within twenty-five or thirty miles of each other and according to the way they were killed, by the same man. McHenry has written to the territorial governor asking him to send in a marshal.”
Ben’s quick mind honed in on one thing and fear washed over him like a wave of ice-cold water.
“Could it be a coincidence that the slain women were whores, or could it be that the killer chose them because of it?” Ben looked James full in the face when he spoke.
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
Ben leaned his arms on the table. “I think we’d better think about it.”
“If you’ve got something on your mind, spill it.”
“The day I came here Louis told me that Dory’s child was born out of wedlock. He said her reputation was anything but lily white, and said a few more things about what he suspected went on here when she was here alone.” As Ben talked, his expression became angry, almost brutal. “At the camp I heard Milo referring to her as Whory Dory. The men, most of them, have no reason not to believe Milo and think Dory is… well, that kind of woman.”
James jumped up from his chair. His dark face had turned livid with tight-lipped fury. He paced back and forth and Ben wondered if he had been wise to lay it on the line all at once. Not all—he wouldn’t break his promise to Dory—but enough for James to realize the danger his sister was in.
“Those two are rotten to the core. There isn’t anything too mean for them to do. Wiley said their ma was the same. Today I saw Chip Malone, and even he hinted that Dory was a loose woman.”
Sins of Summer Page 12
