Wife Wanted in Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  “What else could I think?” she stopped to ask Edith and Katrina. “When my husband started coming home at daybreak and wearing a new shirt? I didn’t even think he was trying to hide anything. If I didn’t have the boys, I would have tried to follow him one night to see where he went.”

  “Did Walker ever hit you or threaten you?” the sheriff asked.

  Leanne hesitated. “Saturday he said I should leave or I could be hurt bad. At first, I thought he meant he’d hurt me, but when I think about it now, sometimes I think he was warning me about someone else. That doesn’t make sense, though. Who else would hurt me? I know he was mad about the gray car. He must have wanted to sell it. That’s the only reason I can think of to explain why he was so angry that I lent it out to Katrina. I don’t know if he’d get much for it, but it’s the only asset we have that would even bring in a few hundred dollars. I don’t know why he reported it stolen.”

  “Speaking of valuables,” the sheriff said. “Your house was ransacked. Can you think of any reason why?”

  Leanne shook her head. “We never claimed to have much. Walker did sometimes joke about his streets of gold, but everyone knew he was just talking. He even stopped saying that when we stopped going to church. There wasn’t anyone else around who would think it was funny then anyway. We had no other friends.”

  The sheriff nodded and wrote down a couple of notes. “Maybe, if he was having an affair, it was the other woman who broke into your house. She might have been looking for something like pictures of the two of them together or—”

  Leanne drew in her breath. “Surely Walker would never leave something like that around for the boys to find. He’s not one of those terrible fathers. Do you really think another woman came into our house looking for something?”

  The sheriff shrugged. “She could have been the one your husband was warning you about. Maybe she wasn’t looking for something, but just wanted revenge.”

  “Oh, dear,” Leanne said.

  “These affairs can come to bad endings.” The sheriff closed his notebook. “The other thing I need is to verify your identify. I suppose you have a driver’s license with you?”

  “Of course,” Leanne said and she reached down to pick up the purse she’d set by her chair. She put the purse on the dining room table and pulled a wallet out of it. She opened the wallet and gave it to the sheriff. Her driver’s license was clearly visible through a plastic sleeve.

  The sheriff looked at the license and nodded. “Well, this is it then. Let me know if you want me to put in a request for a restraining order against your husband. I already have a request with the tribal authorities for them to let me know when he goes back home. I could add a request for protection.”

  “I think he’ll be fine if he just cools off. And when I bring the car home, of course.”

  “You want to be sure it’s safe before you go back there,” Edith warned. “Give the sheriff some time to work. Katrina is planning to be here tomorrow to help photograph pictures for our church directory so the rest of you should stay at least that long, too.”

  “I’m sorry there have been problems about the car,” Katrina said to her sister. “I should have just taken the Lexus and—”

  It hit Katrina like a revelation. If she hadn’t been driving the gray car, the muffler would never have fallen off. She wouldn’t have driven down the road to this little town. She never would have met Edith and Charley. And, most important of all, she would never have sat beside Conrad on the steps of a small country church hearing the voice of a preacher and crying away all the anger she had inside.

  One little thing could have changed her whole life. Then she looked back at her sister. That same little thing had changed Leanne’s life, too.

  “I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Leanne said as she reached over and put her hand on Katrina’s arm. “Neither one of us knew this was going to be a problem with the car.”

  Katrina nodded. “Thank you for saying that.”

  Everyone was quiet for a minute and then Edith said, “You know, Sheriff, there’s plenty of blueberry pie left, if you’d like a slice.”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

  Katrina went out with the older woman to bring in the pie along with plates and forks for everyone.

  “I’d love to get your recipe,” Katrina said as Edith started to cut the pie. “I’m thinking I could add food photography to the kinds of photos I’ll try to sell. Your crust is beautiful.”

  Edith nodded. “Egg whites are the secret. Whip up one or two of them and coat the crust with them. It makes it brown better and look shiny. I’ll show you someday. You can even take a picture of the pie before we eat it.”

  “That reminds me,” the sheriff said as Edith slid him a slice of pie. “Barbara tells me we’re signed up to have our photos taken at nine o’clock tomorrow morning for the church directory. She said the men are supposed to wear shirts with some color. I was wondering if I should wear my sheriff’s uniform?”

  “Do you have any solid color shirts besides white?” Katrina asked.

  “I have a brown one.” The sheriff took a bite of his pie and nodded his pleasure to Edith.

  “Go ahead and wear your white one then,” Katrina said. “I’m not sure we want to put your uniform in the directory.”

  “Folks all know I’m the sheriff anyway. And it’s not like I’m advertising for more work.”

  Katrina chuckled. “I guess that’s true. Still, white would be the one.”

  “That’s what Barbara thought.” The sheriff set his fork down and he was only halfway through with his pie. “She’s home now ironing my shirt. Said she wants our family to look respectable.” He looked around in bewilderment. “Now, you tell me, why does a sheriff have to wear a dress shirt to be respectable? The thing is—” The sheriff paused. “I’m thinking maybe I should wear my suit. The way Barbara is going to so much work for this picture reminds me that we never did get a wedding picture taken. We don’t really have one of the two of us except for snapshots.”

  “A suit would be perfect then.”

  “What a lovely idea,” Edith added.

  “And maybe you could take our picture with us standing up front in the church. That’s where we stood when we said our marriage vows.”

  “I have a rose bouquet Barbara could hold,” Edith said. “The flowers are silk and would look real in a picture. I keep it just in case we have a bride who needs to borrow them.”

  Leanne sighed. “I just love a good wedding.”

  “It’s not really a wedding.” The sheriff looked panicked. “It’s just a picture.”

  “If you at least said the vows, it would make the picture look more like a wedding one,” Katrina added. “There’s something about saying the words that gives people that glow on their faces.”

  “I could barely get the vows out the first time. My throat went dry and I had to cough and—”

  “Barbara would probably really appreciate it if you did your vows again,” Edith said. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  “I guess I could write them out,” the sheriff said. “I’m just not very good at public speaking.”

  “Cake,” Edith said. “We should have a little cake to go along with the vows.”

  Katrina wondered if the sheriff and his wife, Barbara, knew how fortunate they were. It wasn’t about saying the vows or having a picture taken. The important thing is that they had decided to love each other through thick and thin, sickness and health. Katrina hadn’t quite appreciated, until she had cancer, what an enormous gift it was to promise someone to stay with them when they were sick. Obviously, not every man was able to make that kind of a commitment.

  Chapter Twelve

  Conrad couldn’t imagine that his aunt had really run out of sugar, but when she called up at seven o’clock in the morning and asked him to bring her a cup, he did the only thing he could and measured out some of the white stuff, put it in a plastic bag, and set out for her hou
se. He hadn’t slept at all last night and hadn’t shaved this morning. But he wasn’t going to explain that to his aunt, not when he was usually up and ready to go at six.

  He didn’t really need to walk past the church on the way to his aunt’s house, but just to prove how fine he was, he decided to check and see if there was a backdrop for Katrina to use when she took her pictures for the directory. He was a gentleman. He knew she’d have trouble if she tried to line the people up against the door of the church. That old door had more scratches and scrapes than he could count.

  He had an orange tarp in the garage that didn’t have any grease stains and he’d thought about offering that but, even with his eyes feeling kind of dry and grainy, he could tell orange was a poor color for a background. Maybe when he dropped off the sugar to his aunt he would ask if she had any tablecloths that would look good draped over the door.

  There was no doubt Katrina was going to need help. Herding people through their appointment times wouldn’t be easy; he’d learned that when he’d had his grand opening a few months ago and offered to give free oil changes to the first fifty customers who came to his shop. He had to keep everyone moving or they got unruly. People around here tended to be outspoken.

  He knew he didn’t need to worry about Katrina, but he did anyway. As long as she was in this town, he seemed to be tangled up in being responsible for her. At first it was the report of the stolen car and now it was the church directory. He always believed in doing his civic duty and sometimes that was not convenient.

  Conrad kept twisting that bag of sugar as he walked to his uncle’s house. At least it didn’t look like it would rain today. Everyone would take better pictures in the sunlight. He walked up to the back door of his uncle’s house and knocked. Hopefully, Aunt Edith would be in the kitchen since she’s the one who needed sugar.

  The door was opened and Conrad was pulled into the kitchen before he had time to say his little speech about how he had to be leaving.

  “Stir that,” his aunt ordered him as she gave him a spoon and pointed at a boiling pot on the stove.

  Conrad did what he was told. He did look around just to be sure his aunt was the only one in the kitchen. He relaxed when he saw that she was.

  Then he noticed that she was beating something in a large ceramic bowl. She was wearing a flowered apron over an old housedress. And she had slippers on her feet as well as those pink wind-up curlers in her hair.

  “What are you making?”

  “Wedding cake,” his aunt said and then turned to look at him. “Land’s sake, what did you do to yourself?”

  “I just woke up.”

  “Well,” his aunt eyed him a bit longer, “you have a suit, don’t you? Come to the church at nine o’clock.”

  Conrad stopped stirring. “I know Uncle Charley put that prayer request in the bulletin, but you can’t just go and plan a wedding like this. People need to consent.”

  “Oh, it’s not for you,” his aunt said impatiently. “Other people might want to get married even if you don’t.”

  “You don’t mean Katrina?” he asked in astonishment. She’d never even looked at another man here. “It’s that Pete, isn’t it? I know he’s a real charmer, but I didn’t think Katrina would fall for his nonsense.”

  He realized he was stirring the pot a little fast, but who could blame him? He didn’t like to see any woman taken advantage of that way.

  “You’re ruining my frosting base,” Aunt Edith said as she walked over to the stove. “Here, let me. You go over and start cracking the eggs I have on the counter. Separate the whites and the yolks.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted.”

  “Is that what you call it?” his aunt asked and shook her head. “For your information, the wedding is for the sheriff. He and Barbara are restating their wedding vows before they get their photo taken this morning.”

  “Oh,” Conrad said. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  “I just did. I thought he might like a best man,” his aunt said. “He seems a little nervous so you might have to talk him through it.”

  “Nervous? He’s already married.”

  “When you finish with those eggs,” his aunt continued, “I need you to get the bouquet down. It’s on the top shelf in the closet of your old room. The one the boys are in. And then go home and get your suit ready.”

  Conrad frowned. “Is the sheriff wearing a suit? No wonder he’s jittery. If he wears his uniform, I should just wear mine from the station.”

  “This is a wedding,” his aunt said as she lifted her head from her stirring and looked at him. “You need to dress like it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Conrad stood there cracking eggs with his thumb. It probably wasn’t the best of times to wonder if all his life would be spent worrying about other people’s doings instead of his own. He was poised to take some great leap, but he didn’t have the courage to go over the edge. Still, even though he might not feel life as intensely as others, he wouldn’t be crushed by grief, either. He just had to get through today. Katrina would probably be leaving tomorrow. The next day at the latest. He’d survive.

  Katrina hurried to get dressed. She thought she had set her alarm for seven o’clock, but it hadn’t gone off. Now she was late in helping Edith make the cake for the sheriff and she didn’t have time to get everything ready for the pictures she’d be taking, either. She ran the comb through her hair and straightened the ivory top she’d worn with her jeans for the third day now. She’d have to go back to Leanne’s house soon for her suitcase if nothing else.

  The sunlight was streaming in through the windows as she went down the stairs. Leanne and the boys were sleeping in late. Katrina didn’t expect to see them before noon.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said when she turned into the dining room. She could see Edith standing at the stove. “The alarm didn’t go off and—”

  She stepped into the kitchen and saw Conrad standing there with an egg on his thumb.

  “Oh,” she said as she stopped.

  “Aunt Edith needed some sugar,” he said stiffly. “And I wanted to ask about her tablecloths anyway. I thought you might need a backdrop for your photos.”

  “For the pictures! Of course, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that,” Katrina said. “For outside photos I generally use a leafy tree or a wall of ivy or a riverbank.”

  There was a moment’s silence.

  “In a month we’d have leaves on the trees,” Edith said. “But for now, people will just need to stand in front of the church.”

  Katrina winced. “That might not look very good. For one thing, if people stand on the ground, the basement lifts the church up by four feet so half of the photo would be concrete and the line between the concrete and the actual building would be too dominant for the pictures. Everyone would look like they’re cut in half. And at the top of the stairs, those old doors are scuffed pretty bad.”

  “I do have a couple of lace tablecloths,” Edith said thoughtfully. “One of them in particular is quite nice. And then, of course, I have my fruit tablecloths. They’re colorful.”

  “You don’t happen to have a nice solid blue tablecloth, do you?”

  Edith shook her head. “I might have a sheet that’s blue, though.”

  “Why don’t we just gather up a few things and take them over with us?” Katrina said. “That way we’ll have some options for people. They can be inside the church or outside.”

  “I have some plastic fruit that goes with my fruit tablecloths,” Edith said. “You know pears, apples, bananas and a few grapes.”

  “Yesterday some of the old men asked if they could have their pictures taken with their guns,” Conrad said. “Or their dogs.”

  “I’m going to make a firm rule that no one holds anything,” Katrina said.

  “I told them I didn’t think it would work. So we’ll see how they show up. One insisted he could at least wear a hunting vest. Something about the
freedom of speech and how the church directory committee shouldn’t dictate to people.”

  Edith exclaimed, “That’s what we needed! A committee. Why didn’t we think of that?”

  Katrina shrugged. “It’s too late now. How can I help with this cake anyway?”

  “Here,” Conrad said. “You can finish the eggs. Then I can go bring the tablecloths out for everyone to look at.”

  An hour and a half later, Katrina and Edith were getting ready to carry the cake over to the church. Charley had decided to stay home with the boys. Conrad had left earlier to go back to his house and change into a suit.

  “He managed to bring Leanne’s car back,” Katrina said as she opened the front door and stepped out on the street. The gray car stood at the curb with freshly washed windows. Conrad must have brought the car around before he went home to change.

  “Conrad is very prompt in getting his vehicles back to folks,” Edith said. “He knows people need transportation around here.”

  “I suppose he left the keys on the dining room table?” Katrina asked.

  Edith nodded. “I saw them when I walked through to get my coat.”

  “Well, I hope he left his bill, too.” Katrina didn’t want any favors from the man. She was going to say that he hoped he charged his full prices, too, when Edith spoke.

  “I wish I had a dress that fit you,” the older woman said to Katrina.

  “What I have is fine,” Katrina said, grateful for the interruption in her thoughts. She didn’t need to drag Edith into her feelings about Conrad. “I’m just the eyes behind the camera. Besides I have to carry this bag anyway so the neckline on a dress would pull this way or that way and it would look funny.”

  “Still, a wedding is a festive occasion. We haven’t had one all winter so I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

  “I’m glad Conrad called and juggled the appointments so we have a full half hour to spend with the sheriff and his wife.”