“You got a letter,” Addie told Emma, nodding at an envelope propped up against the lamp. Ned looked from Addie to Emma to Welcome, who glowered at him. Addie might have forgiven him for going to Jasper with Emma, but Welcome had not. Ned didn’t know why Welcome got so agitated about him. There was something uncommon strange about her, but he couldn’t say what it was. Maybe she was just anxious to get her $250.
Ned reached for the letter, but Addie snatched it up and handed it to Emma. The letter was enclosed in a real envelope, whose flap was wrinkled. It had been steamed open, then glued shut with a lumpy paste. Emma examined the flap but didn’t say anything about it. “The letter’s from John,” she said, examining the writing on the front. She slipped into a chair. “Did he send the money?” She looked at Ned, who thought it would be a fine thing if they got both the bank loot and the money from John on the same day.
Addie shrugged. “How would we know? We’ve been waiting for you to get back to find out.” She winked at Welcome.
Emma slit open the envelope with her finger and took out a folded sheet. She peered into the envelope, but it contained only a note. Emma read it to herself. She closed her eyes for a moment—Ned couldn’t tell if it was from fatigue or disappointment. She opened them and muttered, “My brother’s coming here.” She went to the cupboard for a glass, then sat down again and poured herself a healthy slug of whiskey.
“What?” Ned asked.
“He doubtless feels your husband is not to be trusted, and neither are you,” Addie said. “That’s what he says, at any rate.”
“Yes, that is precisely what he says. I should have known it would not be so simple to cheat him. It is John’s earnest request to meet and examine my husband.” Emma took a drink of whiskey.
“It ain’t your lucky day, oh no,” Welcome said, fingering a scar on her arm. Ned hadn’t noticed the lacerations before, and he stared at them, wondering what Welcome had done to deserve them. She sent him a hard look as she rolled down her sleeves, then turned to Emma and commanded, “Read that letter out loud.”
Emma set the paper on the table and flattened it with her hand. Ned could see that some of the ink had run, probably from the steam Addie had used to open the envelope. Emma leaned over the paper, her hands against her forehead, and read the letter to them without stopping:
“Sister
“It is a remarkable peculiarity that you have found an investment you believe is to my advantage, so soon after your marriage. But having heard much of opportunity in the West and the backwardness of those living there in taking advantage of it, I have determined to see for myself whether I should put my money with you. I am not such a fool as to send you the money without proper investigation. But if after meeting Mr. Withers, I am convinced he is to be trusted, I will agree to your terms. I will arrive in Nalgitas on Friday next, the same afternoon train you took. Meet me.
“Your Brother
“John Roby”
“Why, he writes a real pretty letter,” Addie chuckled.
“Jolly enough to make a parson dance,” Welcome agreed, and the two of them broke into laughter. Ned wondered how long they’d been drinking.
Emma finished the whiskey, then crossed her arms on the table and put her head down. “I will get on the train tomorrow and go away. When I am settled and have a position, I shall send you money to pay for my keep, Addie.” She sounded weary, and her words were muffled.
Ned sucked in his breath, but it was Addie who spoke. “Why ever would you do that?”
“Because I do not care to face my own brother and tell him I am a swindler.” Emma rose. “I am very tired, and I must pack my things.”
Addie waved her arm. “Oh, sit on back down. Me and Welcome already figured it out. Ned can pretend to be your husband. It was Welcome’s idea.”
Ned thought it was a good idea and said as much.
But Emma didn’t think so. Instead of sitting down again, she held onto the back of the chair and looked at the others. “I don’t believe that would work. John is too smart.”
Ned shook off his weariness. His plans—Emma, the ranch—depended on the money. She didn’t seem to realize that. “It’s a swell idea. Why, it’s no big thing to convince him we’re married,” he said a little desperately. “Either way, he’ll know you’re a swindler. So you might as well leave Nalgitas with his money as without it.”
Emma closed her eyes, and Ned wondered if she would fall asleep standing there. He was surprised that, tired as she was, she had drunk the whiskey. It would have made him pass out. Then Emma waved her hand. “I am excessively tired. I cannot think clearly. Let me decide in the morning.”
“You got nothing to lose to try it,” Addie told her. But Emma put up her hand and turned around.
After Emma closed the bedroom door, Addie reached for the bottle on the table and poured whiskey into her glass and then into Welcome’s. She didn’t offer Ned a drink. She didn’t even look up as he turned and went out the door. When Ned glanced back through the window, Addie and Welcome were bent over the table, Addie’s curls almost touching Welcome’s head rag, and he heard Addie mimic Emma’s words: “I am excessively tired myself. If she doesn’t decide in the morning, we’ll decide for her.”
Welcome was arguing with Emma out near the clothesline when Ned emerged from the barn the next day, and his first thought was that Emma had made the decision to leave Nalgitas before her brother arrived. Sadness swept over him, for it meant that Emma was leaving him, too. Then he realized that Welcome was talking about him.
“You got no business out with that man on them moon-shining nights,” Welcome said. “You have forgotten way back yonder things?” Ned didn’t understand what Welcome meant by that and was curious to hear more, but Welcome heard his footsteps and whirled around.
“What are you blowing about?’ Ned asked her.
Welcome sniffed. “Miss Addie is full of misery with worry over you.”
“No such a thing,” Ned replied. Addie didn’t worry about his work any more than he worried about hers. But maybe Welcome wasn’t referring to robbing banks. Addie and Welcome might have guessed his feelings for Emma. Ned hoped not. Addie would know soon enough—and he didn’t care about Welcome, of course—but it was best that neither one of them found out until after Emma had gotten the money from her brother. He didn’t want any more complications.
Ned considered how he would tell Addie, but he knew there was no right way. The two of them had had a good run of it, and their time together was longer than either of them had ever been with anyone else. But they’d both known it would end sometime. They’d made it clear in the beginning that they wouldn’t make claims on each other. Addie’d never pestered him to marry her; that was why things had been so easy between them. Ned hadn’t changed his mind about their getting married, and he believed Addie had not, either. He was fond of Addie and didn’t want to hurt her. But it was best to put off telling her how things stood between them for as long as he could.
Welcome sent Ned a disapproving look. He ignored her and turned to Emma and grinned. “So are you going to marry me?”
Emma’s eyes grew wide, and she clasped her hands in front of her, and Ned could have smacked himself. Emma was thinking about his real proposal. What he was asking her now was whether she’d agree to let Ned pretend to be her husband. “Just for the day,” he added quickly. “Just until your brother leaves.”
“Maybe her brother won’t think you’re good enough for her,” Welcome interjected.
“I’m good enough for anybody,” Ned protested.
Emma ignored Welcome. “I have studied on it and don’t see that there is anything to lose. The only chance I have to get the money is to have a husband. It is a good plan. Besides, I will enjoy John’s surprise when he discovers that I have married such a handsome man.”
Ned flushed and moved into the shade of the barn and hunkered down. “I believe you know that somewhere along the road I came over, I learned a little playacting.
I won’t let you down.”
Emma peered into the shadows at him with a smile that told Ned she knew he would not. “John’s coming is a great drawback. He will be wary of your motives, but I do not believe he will question that you are my husband. John thinks himself a fine judge of character, so we must concentrate on his good impression of you.”
“Then it’s settled,” Ned said.
Emma nodded. “I shall have to convince John that he cannot see the land, that to let the seller know we have taken in a partner would be to put the deal in jeopardy. John may agree to it since sometimes he is so greedy that he does not always use good sense.”
Welcome had been listening closely, looking from Ned to Emma. Now she turned to Emma. “It sounds to me like you got more at work here than cheating a man of his money.” The two turned to her. “Oh, the money matters. It matters most. But money gets spent, and bimeby, it’ll be gone. What lasts, what you’ll remember in your certain later time, is you cheated your brother to his face.” Welcome laughed a deep, guttural laugh. “Myself, I never felt sad or glad about what I done.” She shut her mouth, as if she’d said too much.
“What did you do that you feel so right about it?” Ned asked.
Welcome clapped her hands together. “Oh, I ain’t fractious. I just done what I had to. I worked for the end of tribulation and the end of beatings and shoes that fit my feet.”
“Well, you’ll get enough to buy any shoes you want,” Ned said, thinking over what Welcome had told them. She was right in saying that for Emma, the money was only part of the reason she was fleecing her brother. There was something else to it, more than she had said. Perhaps she would tell him sometime. Ned turned from Welcome to Emma. He watched as Emma reached out and patted the black woman’s arm, but Welcome pulled away. “Drop no tears for me,” she said.
Emma’s nervousness increased as John’s arrival drew near. Ned wondered how she could have been so calm in planning the bank robbery but so edgy at meeting her own brother. Maybe it was the memory of the Minder boys that made her act as if she had the jimjams. Now that they were back in Nalgitas, Emma had not brought up the events of that morning in the canyon. Once, Ned had asked her if she was all right, but she had looked through him and not replied. If she wanted to talk about it, he thought, she’d bring it up. Maybe if they didn’t talk about it, she’d forget it. When he studied on it, Ned decided that Emma’s agitation had to do with her brother, and it picked up on Friday, before his arrival. Ned wondered what it was about John Roby that aggravated Emma so. Addie had said that he was a mean man, the kind of mean that would make them all feel good about cheating him. Perhaps Emma feared him, was afraid of what he’d do when he found out she’d taken advantage of him. Maybe she’d begun to feel guilty about stealing money from her own brother, but somehow, Ned didn’t think so. Emma didn’t seem to have much of a conscience. That was an odd thing.
Emma could hardly stand still as she and Ned waited on the platform for the train. Ned himself felt easy. This was as simple a job as he’d ever pulled. And a comfortably safe one, too. John Roby wasn’t likely such a damn fool as to kill a fellow for pretending to be married to his sister. Besides, farmers didn’t carry guns.
The day was hot enough to melt Ned out of the broadcloth suit that he had put on to impress John. He sat down on a bench in the shade, while Emma paced back and forth on the platform. Beads of sweat stood out on her brow, although Ned didn’t know if they were from the heat, the exercise, or her nerves. She hadn’t perspired like that riding in the hot sun to Jasper. Half a dozen times Emma came over to him and asked why the train was late. Now she perched for a minute on the edge of the bench beside him and leaned forward to peer down the tracks.
Ned tried to calm her. “You thought any more about what I asked you?”
“About what?” Emma asked, distracted. Then she stopped fidgeting and turned to look at him. “Oh,” she said, “your ranch.” She took a deep breath, but before she could say more, there was the sound of a train whistle far off, and Emma jumped up. She looked relieved, although Ned didn’t know if it was because she wouldn’t have to answer his question just then or that the waiting for her brother was almost over. He preferred the latter explanation, and, indeed, by the time the train pulled to a stop at the depot, Emma seemed like a different woman, much calmer.
Five passengers got off the train. Then Emma gasped, and Ned turned to look at a wiry, beady-eyed man, disliking him at once. But he was not John Roby, because Emma touched Ned’s arm and started toward a black-haired man who was an inch or two taller than Ned and powerfully built. Ned was surprised that Emma’s brother was so uncommonly fine-looking. He had expected an evil countenance, but John Roby had pleasing features. His was the sort of face that would attract a woman, Ned thought. But that didn’t mean anything. Earlie Minder had been handsome, too.
John took Emma’s hands and looked at her a minute. Then Emma pulled away and said, “John, I should like you to be acquainted with my husband, Walter Withers.” Ned thought the word “husband” stuck in her throat, but John didn’t seem to notice. He turned and sized up Ned, starting at Ned’s face and moving slowly down his body. When he reached Ned’s feet, his eyes started back up again until they reached Ned’s extended arm, and he took Ned’s hand. The handshake was firm, but something in John Roby’s eyes chilled Ned. They were vacant, like the eyes of a gunfighter.
“He is called Ned,” Emma told John.
The way the two of them treated each other was indeed stilted, Ned thought. There were no pleasantries. Neither inquired about the other’s health or made small talk. They just stood there, until the other passengers disappeared and the conductor called, “All aboard.”
“Well, I guess you might be wanting a drink. Nalgitas has more saloons than good women,” Ned said, in an effort to ease the tension.
“I do not discuss business in saloons, and I am here to talk business,” John replied, then turned to Emma. “Sister, has marriage caused you to frequent such places?”
Ned was tempted to retort that Emma regularly got as full as a goose, but he held his tongue and let Emma reply. “There is no need to say such a thing to me. I have brought you a business proposition. I believe I deserve your respect for it.” If they spoke like that to each other in front of a third person, Ned wondered, how poisonous was their conversation when they were alone?
John set down his bag and stepped off the platform and scooped up a handful of dirt, smelling it, then letting it sift through his fingers. Ned had seen farmers do that. He’d done it himself when he was a boy. “Not much good for crops,” John said.
“No, but fine for ranching,” Ned told him.
“I don’t know about ranching,” John said.
“I do, enough to know the property in question is a fine investment. I would buy it myself, if I had the money.”
“So you say,” John told him. “I should like to see it for myself.”
“What good would that do? You already said you don’t know about ranching,” Emma spoke up.
“Besides, like Emma wrote you, we can’t show it to you. You’ll have to trust us. If you don’t, the deal is off.”
“I don’t trust you worth a buckfart,” John retorted. “I don’t know you.”
“You know me,” Emma told him. “You know I have a head for investment. Father said so, and you have said it yourself. And Ned is a fine rancher. He has built up his ranch”—Emma stopped for a minute and smiled at Ned coyly—“our ranch, from nothing.”
John studied Ned so long that Ned grew uncomfortable and looked away. “You come from money?” John asked.
“I come from Iowa,” Ned replied.
“Fought for the North, did you?” John’s face tightened, and Ned wondered if the man’s hardness came from something that had happened to him in the war. Emma’d never said that her brother had gone for a soldier.
“I tried to join up as a drummer boy in Iowa, but my father stopped me. So I ran away and went we
st instead,” Ned said.
“That would have been more than twenty years ago. What have you done since?” John asked.
Ned wondered what John would say if he told him he’d spent the time robbing banks. But instead, he replied, “I worked as a cowboy in Texas, then up in Colorado some. For a long time, I wasted my money on liquor, on women.” Ned could make himself blush at will, although he couldn’t recall ever having done so for a man. “Then I decided I’d best change my ways if I didn’t want to end up a saddle bum. So I saved up, and five years ago, I bought my land. It prospers.”
“You drink?”
“Some. Not so much.”
John nodded. “A religious man, are you?”
Ned wasn’t sure how to answer—Emma hadn’t said whether John was a churchgoing man—so he decided to be truthful. “Not that anyone would notice. But I endeavor to treat a fellow as good as I can—no reason not to. There’s Catholic preaching here once a month. I can’t say that I go in for it, for I’m not a papist.” Then, inspired, Ned added, “The priest married me and Emma. He’s the only man of the cloth who comes to Nalgitas, and I thought my wife would want a preacher doing the honors, even though he’s not of her persuasion. It seemed proper.” He winked at Emma, who flushed.
As Emma looked down at her hands, John glanced at her, waiting a moment for her to look up, but she didn’t. So he changed the subject. “What’s this about gold discoveries?” he asked.
Ned took off his hat and scratched his head. “There is activity. I myself have not seen it, so I don’t know the truth of it. The price asked for the land is a fair one, more than fair, without the minerals. I am inclined to dismiss the gold talk, as I do not rely on another man’s say-so.” Emma smiled at him, and Ned knew he had said the right thing. From what Emma had told him, Ned did not believe John would dismiss the mineral possibilities at all.
The wind picked up, stirring the dust, and John sat down on the edge of the platform and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He seemed very tired and a little distracted. Emma quickly sat down next to him and began to massage his neck, and Ned was surprised that with the rancor between them, Emma was so solicitous of her brother. “You have had a headache come on,” she said. “We will get you to the hotel at once and see if they can make a raw potato poultice to put on your eye. Ned and I are staying in a boardinghouse, but as there is no additional room there, we have made arrangements for you elsewhere.” She turned to Ned. “John suffers from sick headaches. Bright sun makes them worse. He must have darkness.” Then she mouthed, “The war.”
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