A Cry in the Night
Page 13
I’d like to start a garden, Jenny thought. I don’t know a thing about it but I could learn. Maybe it was because she needed exercise that she was feeling physically rotten. It wasn’t just nerves; once again the clammy, queasy feeling was back. She stopped abruptly. Was it possible? Dear God, was it possible?
Of course it was.
She’d felt this way when she was carrying Beth.
She was pregnant.
That explained why the nightgown felt too tight in the bodice; it explained the light-headedness, the queasiness; it even explained the periods of depression.
What a marvelous gift to tell Erich tonight that she believed she was expecting a child! He wanted a son to inherit this farm. Surely the night staff at the restaurant was different from the lunchtime help? It would be all right. Erich’s son.
“Randy,” Tina called. “Look, Mommy, there’s Randy.”
“Oh, good,” Jenny said. “Joe was so worried.” She called to him. “Randy come here.”
The puppy must have cut through the orchard. He stopped, turned and looked at her. Squealing, Beth and Tina began running toward him. With a bark of delight he turned tail and began to run toward the south fields. “Randy, stop,” Jenny shouted. Now barking noisily, the puppy loped ahead. Don’t let Erich hear him, she prayed. Don’t let him run toward the cow pastures. Erich would be furious if he upset the cows. Nearly a dozen of them were coming to term with calves.
But he wasn’t heading toward the pastures. Instead he veered and started running along the east line of the property.
The cemetery. He was heading straight for it. Jenny remembered how Joe joked about Randy digging around their house. “Swear he’s trying to get to China, Jenny. You should just see him. Every spot that shows a bit of thawing, he’s into.”
If the dog ever started digging in the graves . . .
Jenny passed the girls, running as fast as she could on the mushy ground. “Randy,” she called again. “Randy, come here.”
Suppose Erich heard her? Puffing heavily she ran around the line of Norwegian pines that screened the graveyard and into the clearing. The gate was open and the puppy was leaping among the tombstones. In its isolated corner Caroline’s grave was covered with a blanket of fresh roses. Randy romped over it, crushing the flowers.
Jenny saw the glint of metal coming from the woods. Instantly she realized what it was. “No, no,” she screamed, “don’t shoot! Erich, don’t shoot him!”
Erich stepped from the shelter of the trees. With slow-motion precision he raised it to his shoulder. “Don’t, please!” she screamed.
The sharp crack of the rifle sent sparrows squawking from the trees. With a howl of pain the puppy crumbled to the ground, his small body sinking into the roses. As Jenny watched in disbelieving horror, Erich worked the bolt with a well-oiled click, and shot the whimpering animal again. As the echo of the blast died away, the whimpering ceased.
18
Later Jenny remembered the hours after the shooting as a nightmare, blurred and difficult to piece together. She remembered her own frantic rush to head off the girls before they saw what had happened to Randy, yanking their hands. “We have to go home now.”
“But we want to play with Randy.”
She thrust them in the house. “Wait here. Don’t come out again.”
A shirt-sleeved, grave Erich was carrying Randy’s still form; the parka he had wrapped the animal in was soaked with blood. Joe tried to blink back tears.
“Joe, I thought it was one of those damn strays. You know half of them are rabid. If I’d only realized . . .”
“You shouldn’t have put him on your good coat, Mr. Krueger.”
“Erich, how can you be so cruel? You shot him twice. You shot him after I called to you.”
“I had to, darling,” he insisted. “The first bullet shattered his spine. Do you think I could have left him like that? Jenny, I was frantic when I thought the girls were chasing a stray. A child nearly died last year after being bitten by one of them.”
Clyde, looking uncomfortable, shifted from one foot to the other. “You just can’t go around petting animals on a farm, Miz Krueger.”
“I’m sorry to give you so much trouble, Mr. Krueger,” Joe said apologetically.
Her own anger dissipated into confusion. Erich smoothed her hair. “Joe, I’ll replace him with a good hunter.”
“You don’t need to do that, Mr. Krueger.” But there was hope in his voice.
Joe took Randy to bury him on his own property. Taking her back to the house, Erich insisted she lie on the couch, bringing her a steaming cup of tea. “I forget my darling is still a city girl.” And then he left her.
Finally she got up and got the girls’ lunch. While they napped she rested, forcing herself to read, willing her mind to stop squirming about in hopeless worry.
“It will be a fast dinner for you two tonight,” she told Beth and Tina. “Daddy and I are going out.”
“Me too,” Tina volunteered.
“No, not you too,” Jenny said, hugging her. “For once Daddy and I have a date.” But no wonder the girls expected to be included. The few places she and Erich had gone to in this last month, he’d always insisted on bringing them along. How many stepfathers would be so considerate?
She took elaborate care with her own preparations. Soaking in a steaming tub took some of the soreness from her body. Hesitating only a minute, she filled the tub with the pine-scented bath crystals that she’d so far ignored in the bathroom cabinet.
She washed her hair and pulled it back in a Psyche knot. When she’d been in the restaurant with Kevin her hair had been loose on her shoulders.
She studied the contents of her closet, choosing a long-sleeved, hunter-green wraparound silk that accentuated her narrow waist and the green in her eyes.
Erich came into the room just as she was fastening her locket. “Jenny, you dressed especially for me. I love you in green.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “I always dress for you. I always will.”
He was carrying a canvas. “Miraculous as it might seem, I managed to finish it this afternoon.”
It was a spring scene, a new calf half-hidden in a hollow, the mother watchfully beside it, eyeing the other cattle, seeming to warn them to stay away. The sunlight filtered through pine trees; the sun was a five-pointed star. The painting had the aura of a Nativity scene.
Jenny studied it and felt all her senses quickening to its profound beauty. “It’s magnificent,” she said quietly. “There’s so much tenderness there.”
“Today you told me I was cruel.”
“Today I was terribly stupid and terribly wrong. Will this be for the next exhibit?”
“No, darling, this is my gift to you.”
She pulled the collar of her coat around her face as they went into the restaurant. The other time she’d been so anxious to escape quickly that she’d hardly noticed the details of the place. Now she realized that with its bright red carpeting, pine furniture, mellow lighting, colonial curtains and blazing fire, the inn was immensely appealing. Her eyes slid to the booth where she’d sat with Kevin.
“Right this way.” The hostess led them in that direction. Jenny held her breath but mercifully the hostess sailed past it and led them to a window table. There was a bottle of champagne already in the cooler beside the table.
When their glasses had been filled Jenny held hers up to Erich. “Happy birthday, darling.”
“Thank you.”
Quietly they sipped.
Erich was wearing a dark gray tweed jacket, a narrow black tie, charcoal gray trousers. His thick charcoal eyebrows and lashes intensified the blue of his eyes. His bronze-gold hair was highlighted by the flickering candle on the table. He reached for her hand.
“I enjoy taking you to places for the first time, darling.”
Her mouth went dry. “I enjoy being everywhere . . . anywhere with you.”
“I think that’s why I left that note. You
’re right, sweetheart. I wasn’t only teasing. I was jealous watching Joe teach you to ride. All I could think was that I wanted to share the first minute you were on Fire Maid. I suppose it’s as though I’d bought you a piece of jewelry and you’d worn it for someone else.”
“Erich,” Jenny protested. “I just thought it would be nice for you not to be bothered with the ABCs of the learning process.”
“It’s not unlike the house, is it, Jenny? You came in, and in four weeks you try to transform a historical treasure into a New York studio complete with bare windows and spider plants. Darling, may I suggest a birthday present for me? Take a little time to find out who I am . . . who we are. You accused me of cruelty when I shot an animal I thought might attack our children. May I suggest that you in a different way shoot from the hip utterly without justification? And, Jenny, I have to say this, you have the distinction of being the first Krueger woman in four generations to create a scene in front of a hired hand. Caroline would have fainted dead away before she would publicly criticize my father.”
“I’m not Caroline,” Jenny said quietly.
“Darling, just understand that I’m not cruel to animals. I’m not unreasonably rigid. That first night in your apartment I could see you didn’t understand why I was astonished that you gave MacPartland money; the same thing on our wedding day. But it’s come back to haunt us, hasn’t it?”
If you only knew, Jenny thought.
The maître d’ was heading toward them with menus, a professional smile plastered on his face. “And now, my sweet,” Erich said, “let’s consider that we’ve cleared the air a bit. Let’s have a wonderful dinner together and please know that I’d rather be here with you in this place at this moment than anywhere else with anyone else in the world.”
When they arrived home she deliberately put on the aqua gown. She had not told Erich at dinner about her possible pregnancy. She’d been too shaken by the truth of his observations. When they were in bed, his arms around her, she would tell him.
But he did not stay with her. “I need to be completely alone. I’ll be back by Thursday but not before then.”
She did not dare to protest. “Now don’t get into a creative haze and forget that Mark and Emily are coming to dinner on Friday.”
He looked down at her as she lay in bed. “I won’t forget.” Without kissing her, he left. Once again she was alone in the cavernous bedroom to fall into the uneasy, dream-filled sleep that was becoming a way of life.
19
In spite of everything, planning the dinner party was a pleasant diversion. She wanted to shop herself but would not make driving the car an issue. Instead she compiled a long list for Elsa. “Coquilles St. Jacques,” she told Erich when he came to the house on Friday morning. “Mine is really good. And you say Mark likes a rib roast?” She chatted on, determined to bridge the perceptible estrangement. He’ll get over it, she thought, especially when he knows about the baby.
Kevin had not called again. Maybe he had met a girl in the cast and had become involved. If so, they wouldn’t hear from him for a while. If necessary, as soon as the adoption became final they could take legal steps to make him stay away. Or if he did try to block the adoption, Erich might as a last resort buy him off. Silently, she prayed: Please let the children have a home, a real family. Let it be good again between Erich and me.
The night of the dinner she set out the Limoges china, delicately beautiful with its gold-and-blue border. Mark and Emily were due at eight. Jenny found herself eagerly looking forward to meeting Emily. All her life she’d had girlfriends. She’d lost touch with most of them because of lack of time to keep up contacts after Beth and Tina came along. Maybe Emily and she would hit it off.
She said as much to Erich. “I doubt it,” he told her. “There was a time when the Hanovers looked very fondly at the prospect of having me as a son-in-law. Roger Hanover is the president of the bank in Granite Place and has a good idea of my net worth.”
“Did you ever go out with Emily?”
“A little. But I wasn’t interested and didn’t want to get into a situation that would prove uncomfortable. I was waiting for the perfect woman, you see.”
She tried to make her voice teasing. “Well, you found her, dear.”
He kissed her. “I certainly hope so.”
She flinched. He’s joking, she told herself fiercely.
After she got Beth and Tina into bed, Jenny changed into a white silk blouse with lace cuffs and a multicolored, ankle-length skirt. She studied her reflection in the mirror and realized she was deathly pale. Adding a touch of rouge helped.
Erich had set up the tea table in the parlor as a bar. When she came into the room he studied her carefully. “I like that costume, Jen.”
“That’s good,” she smiled. “You certainly paid enough for it.”
“I thought you didn’t like it. You’ve never worn it before.”
“It seemed kind of dressed up for just sitting around.”
He came over to her. “Is that a spot on your sleeve?”
“That? Oh, it’s just a speck of dust. It must have happened in the store.”
“Then you haven’t worn this outfit before?”
Why did he ask that? Was he simply too sensitive not to know she was hiding something from him?
“First time, girl scout’s honor.”
The door chimes were a welcome interruption. Her mouth had begun to go dry. It’s getting so that no matter what Erich says, I’m afraid of giving myself away, she thought.
Mark was wearing a pepper-and-salt jacket that suited him well. It brought out the gray in his hair, accentuated his broad shoulders, the lean strength of his tall frame. The woman with him was about thirty, small-boned, with wide inquisitive eyes and dark blond hair that skimmed the collar of her well-cut brown velvet suit. Jenny decided that Emily had the air of someone who never had experienced an instant of self-doubt. She made no secret of looking Jenny over from head to toe. “You do realize I have to report to everyone in town what you’re like; the curiosity is overwhelming. My mother gave me a list of twenty questions I’m to discreetly toss in. You haven’t exactly made yourself available to the community.”
Before Jenny could answer, she felt Erich’s arm slip around her waist. “If we’d taken a two-month honeymoon cruise nobody would have thought a thing of it. But as Jenny says, because we chose to honeymoon in our own home, Granite Place is outraged not to be camped in our living room.”
I never said that! Jenny thought helplessly as she watched Emily’s eyes narrow.
Over cocktails, Mark waited until Erich and Emily were deep in conversation before he commented, “You look pale, Jenny. Are you all right?”
“Fine!” She tried to sound as though she meant it.
“Joe told me about his dog. I understand you were pretty upset.”
“I guess I have to learn to understand that things are different here. In New York we cliff dwellers weep collectively over the picture of a stray about to be destroyed. Then somebody shows up to adopt him and we all cheer.”
Emily was looking around the room. “You haven’t changed anything, have you?” she asked. “I don’t know whether Erich has mentioned it but I am an interior designer and if I were you, I’d get rid of those curtains. Sure they’re beautiful but the windows are so overdressed and you lose that glorious view.”
Jenny waited for Erich to defend her. “Apparently, Jen doesn’t agree with you,” he said smoothly. His tone and smile were indulgent.
Erich, that’s unfair, Jenny thought furiously. Should she contradict him? The first Krueger woman in four generations to create a scene in front of a hired hand. How about a scene in front of friends? What was Emily saying?
“. . . and I happen to be never at peace if I’m not switching things around but maybe that isn’t your interest. I understand you’re an artist too.”
The moment had passed. It was too late to correct the impression Erich had left. “I’m not an artis
t,” Jenny said. “My degree is in fine arts. I worked in a gallery in New York. That’s where I met Erich.”
“So I’ve heard. Your whirlwind romance has created quite a stir in these parts. How does our rustic life compare with the Big Apple?”
Jenny chose her words carefully. She had to undo the impression that she felt Erich had given that she was scornful of the local people. “I miss my friends, of course. I miss bumping into people who know me and comment on how big the children are getting. I like people and I make friends easily. But once,” she glanced at Erich, “once our honeymoon is officially over, I hope to be active in the community.”
“Report that to your mother, Emily,” Mark suggested.
Jenny thought, Bless you for underscoring. Mark knew what she was trying to do.
Emily laughed, a brittle, mirthless sound. “From what I hear you’ve got at least one friend to keep you amused.”
She had to be referring to the meeting with Kevin. The woman from church had been gossiping. She felt Erich’s questioning look and did not meet his eyes.
Jenny murmured something about seeing to the dinner and went into the kitchen. Her hands were shaking so she could hardly lift the roasting pan from the oven. Suppose Emily followed through on her insinuations? Emily believed she was a widow; now her telling the truth would in effect be branding Erich as a liar. What about Mark? The question had not come up but undoubtedly he too thought she had been a widow.
Somehow she managed to get the food onto serving dishes, to light the candles and call them to the table. At least I’m a good cook, she reflected. Emily can tell her mother that.
Erich carved and served the rib roast. “One of our own steers,” he said proudly. “Are you sure that doesn’t repel you, Jenny?”
He was teasing her. She mustn’t overreact. The others didn’t seem to notice. “Think, Jenny,” he continued in the same bantering tone, “the yearling you pointed out to me in the field last month, the one you said looked so wistful. You’re eating him now.”