He always felt ill at ease in the feminine place. All those female fripperies that covered every surface in the room made him nervous. He liked clean, uncluttered space. He hurried through the store to the workroom so as not to disturb anything.
Anna looked up and smiled. “Lowell, how nice to see you.” She crossed the room to where he stood and gave him a hug.
He hugged her back stiffly with one arm. He never understood why she and Ollie liked all this touching, but he did love her.
“So how are you doing?” Anna took an interest in everyone around her.
“Fine.” He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. It was the safest place to keep them. “I had to come for feed—for the horses.”
Anna raised her brows. “Why didn’t you ask Ollie to get it for you? He was here earlier.”
Lowell rocked up on his toes and back down. “I know, but I hadn’t been to town for awhile. I thought I might as well come.”
Anna opened her mouth, but Lowell stopped her before she could ask any more questions. “I need to get back to the farm. It’s time to feed the horses.”
She just nodded and walked out to the wagon with him, then hugged him again.
On the ride home, he mulled over what had happened in town. He remembered Miss Le Blanc—Rissa—being more friendly to him when she was there before. Now it was almost as if she had never met him. It was Ollie’s fault. He had turned her against him. It was the first time in Lowell’s life he’d felt drawn to a woman, and Ollie had already messed it up. His brother could have any woman he wanted, so why did he choose the one who interested Lowell? He had been so disappointed when the Le Blancs left town the first time. Lowell had started to think he might have a chance to establish a relationship with Rissa this time. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Ollie hurried across the barnyard to help Lowell unload the sacks of feed. Neither one spoke or looked at the other as they carried the sacks into the storeroom. They just stared at the ground as they tramped back and forth. When they’d put away the last sack, Ollie started unhitching the horses.
“You don’t have to do that. I can take care of it.” Lowell didn’t want his brother to do him any favors.
Ollie stared at him, then turned back to the horses. “It’s okay. I don’t want you saying I don’t do my share around here.”
Lowell put his hands on his hips. “You’ve done enough as it is.” He knew it sounded harsh, but he didn’t care. He had worked himself into a frenzy over that woman.
Ollie stopped what he was doing and turned to face him. “Just what do you mean by that?”
Lowell glared at him. “As if you didn’t know.” He turned to walk off.
His brother grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him around.
It was too bad he was now as big and strong as Lowell. “Why did you do that?”
“I want to know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve turned that girl against me,” Lowell blurted out.
Ollie’s mouth dropped open, and he shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t done anything.”
Anger clouded Lowell’s thoughts, raising the timbre of his voice as his temper grew. “Then why didn’t she seem to know me when I was in town?”
“You went to town to see Rissa?” Ollie almost choked on the shouted question. “I can’t believe this! Why would you do that? You knew I was spending time with her!”
They stood toe-to-toe, glaring at each other with fists clenched. Lowell never would hit his brother, but if he hit first—
“Boys, I want to have a word with the two of you.”
The sound of their father’s voice was like a bucket of cold water, splashing against the anger they both felt. They turned and saw him standing in the doorway to the barn. “Let’s go inside and sit down.”
They followed their father into the shadowy dimness of the building and sat on two bales of hay. The older man towered over his sons.
“I don’t like what I’ve been seeing and hearing lately.” He looked at Lowell, then at Ollie. “I don’t know what has gotten into the two of you, but we can’t run a successful horse farm if you’re bickering all the time. It’s not the way brothers should treat each other.”
Lowell stood and turned away. He wondered how much his father had heard. Probably a lot since they were so loud. He didn’t like his father treating him as if he were still a child.
He turned back around. “We’ll take care of it, Father.” He glared at his brother. “Won’t we?”
Ollie glanced from Lowell to his father and back.
Their father looked at each brother in turn. “Just see that you do.”
❧
It had been two weeks since they had come to Litchfield. Clarissa had enjoyed every minute of the time. Now she would have to leave, and she didn’t want to. Pierre told her after breakfast to be ready to depart by nine o’clock this morning. So here she was in the parlor waiting for him to come with the surrey.
“There you are, Rissa, dear.” Mrs. Olson bustled into the room with a picnic basket over her arm. “Your father asked me to fix up this food for you to take on your outing today. He said you might be gone until after dinner tonight. Where are you going?”
Clarissa turned from watching out the front windows. “He wants me to see as much of the beautiful Minnesota landscape as possible while we’re here. We’ll probably take several trips to explore before we leave.”
“You be careful,” Mrs. Olson said. “It may be 1895, but some parts of our state are still pretty wild. Don’t stray too far off the beaten path.”
Clarissa laughed. “I am sure we won’t go anywhere dangerous.”
The sound of horses and the wagon pulled her attention back to the window. She took the heavy basket from their landlady and again thanked her before stepping out onto the front porch.
“There you are, Rissa.” Pierre came up the walk and relieved her of her burden. “The sooner we get on the road, the more we can see.” He stowed the basket in the back, then helped Clarissa onto the seat. He clicked his tongue at the horses, and they started toward the main thoroughfare from town. When they had ridden completely out of sight, Pierre turned the wagon onto an overgrown trail.
“Why didn’t you bring the surrey?” Clarissa asked. “It’s so much more comfortable to ride in.”
“As you know, we’ll have to cross a lot of rough terrain to reach the campsite. It wouldn’t be good for the surrey. This wagon is fine.” Pierre’s eyes gleamed. “What’s the matter, Rissa? Don’t you want to leave the comforts of town?”
She glared at him, crossed her arms, and turned away. The wagon hit a deep rut, and she almost fell out. She grabbed the edge of the seat and clung to it while Pierre’s laughter pealed across the rolling plains.
No, she didn’t want to leave the comforts of town or anything else that was there, especially Ollie Jenson. She wouldn’t see him again for two weeks, and a lot could happen in two weeks. How she hated this life! She was glad Pierre had left her in town when he returned to the campsite a week ago. She’d hoped he would do it again, but he hadn’t. They rode for over an hour in silence. The sun moved higher in the sky, and Clarissa unfurled her ruffled parasol and held it over her head to protect her face from the damaging rays.
“You’re not very talkative today, Rissa.” Pierre finally broke the silence. “You’re not pouting, are you?” She glared at him again. “It won’t do you any good, and it puts the most unbecoming wrinkles on those creamy smooth cheeks.”
He raised his hand as if he might touch her face, and she quickly turned away. She hated it when he touched her, and he knew it. She thought he did it just to torment her.
After crossing the grassy prairie, they entered an area of rolling hills dotted with rocks and scrub brush. Traveling deeper into the hills, they came to trees with thick undergrowth. Pierre had to concentrate on his driving there, and Clarissa was glad. It kept his attention away from her. She began to wonder
what they would find when they reached the campsite. At least the overhanging branches protected her from the sunlight, so she was able to put her parasol away.
She enjoyed listening to the sounds in the woods. Birds flitted through the top branches, calling to each other in a melodious cacophony. Sometimes she caught sight of colorful plumage. Besides the usual browns she saw an occasional flash of yellow, red, or blue. Clarissa wished she were as free as those birds. She was sure small animals lived among the underbrush. She could hear scrambling interspersed with the sound of the horses’ hooves clopping on the rocky soil.
Finally, they pulled into a large clearing hidden deep inside the tangle of tall trees and thick underbrush. Clarissa wondered how Pierre had found it in the first place, but he had always managed to find a similar campsite, no matter what state they were in.
A young woman, dressed in trousers and a man’s shirt, hopped out of the caravan wagon that sat under a small grove of trees near the center of the clearing. She gave a vigorous wave and started running toward the wagon. Her long ebony curls were unfettered, so they flew out behind her like a flag fluttering in the wind.
“Clari!” she shouted.
After all his years in the family, Pierre understood how close the sisters were, so he stopped the wagon and let Clarissa clamber over the wheel. She ran toward her sister with her arms outstretched. “Mari!”
It felt so good to hold Mari in her arms again. Clarissa had never liked being separated from her twin, but about the only time they spent together was traveling from one place to another in the caravan. As soon as they reached a destination, Pierre would set up the confidence game so they were never seen at the same time. Their few hours together before they switched places had to suffice. But it never did. Of course, occasionally Pierre had to scout a new location. Then he would take the girls to an out-of-the-way place, and they stayed together for a few days. Precious days that were too few.
When the sisters finally quit dancing around and hugging each other, Clarissa walked with Marissa back to the campsite. Pierre had passed them and driven the wagon under the trees. He unhitched the horses and hobbled them in a grassy spot close enough to the small lake where they could graze and drink their fill. He pulled the basket Mrs. Olson had fixed for them from the back of the wagon and opened it. Soon they were enjoying fried chicken, homemade bread, fresh vegetables, and apple crumb cake. Mrs. Olson had even put homemade pickles in the basket. It was a wonderful feast.
“This is delicious.” Marissa wiped her mouth on a napkin. “Do you eat like this all the time, Clari?”
Clarissa nodded. “Mrs. Olson is a very good cook.”
Marissa smiled at her. “Don’t eat too much, or our clothes won’t fit you.”
The sisters laughed.
Pierre didn’t join them. “I watch to see she doesn’t. It’s too important.”
His comments put a damper on the festive feeling the young women had been sharing. The real reason they were apart always did that.
“Pierre.” Marissa was usually the one who didn’t complain. “Please, please let us stop. Don’t we have enough money yet?”
His glare could have turned fresh milk to clabber. “Don’t start.”
“But you know how much we hate what we’re doing,” Clarissa agreed with her sister. “Why do we have to continue?”
Pierre started packing the things back into the basket. “If this is the thanks I get for bringing you fresh food—”
“I’m sorry, Pierre.” Marissa was almost crying. “I really do appreciate it. Don’t take it away.”
He looked from one girl to the other. “Don’t worry. You’ll be eating well for awhile. You’re going back to town with me. It’s Clarissa who won’t have the food.”
He stared at her. She knew he wanted an apology, but it stuck in her throat. Then she remembered she would have only smoked meat, canned beans and peaches, biscuits, and whatever she could scrounge from the woods. “I’m sorry, Pierre. Please don’t take the food away.”
He laughed such an evil laugh that it sliced into Clarissa’s spirit. How could they fight him? He always told them they were as guilty as he was and would go to jail if he did. Would being in prison be any worse than how they lived now? She often wondered.
After lunch, Pierre unloaded other things from the wagon. He had rented it the day before and gone into a neighboring town to buy supplies, which he’d hidden under a tarp.
“Look, Clarissa—I bought some eggs and bacon. They’ll last a few days if you store them in that cool spring that feeds the lake.”
“Thank you, Pierre.” Clarissa almost choked on the words, but she knew if she didn’t say them he would retaliate, maybe even against Mari. That hurt more than when he did something to her. Her sister wasn’t as strong as she was.
While Pierre lay under a tree and dozed, the sisters explored the area together. Mari showed her some wild gooseberries. In the last few days, she had picked some and used them to make desserts for herself; but more would ripen for the next week or two so Clarissa could enjoy them too. Mari also took her upstream to a waterfall with an indentation in the rock behind it. She said she used it to bathe and wash her hair. Clarissa knew she would enjoy that too. This was much better than most of their campsites had been.
Just as they returned to camp, Pierre sat up and stretched. “It’s about time to start back, so get ready.”
The girls went into the caravan and switched clothing. While they were changing, Clarissa told her sister about the four dresses Pierre had ordered from the Dress Emporium. She had already taken one to her room in the boardinghouse, but the other three weren’t started yet. The Dress Emporium was busy, and Pierre had told Anna and Gerda there was no hurry for the dresses.
Clarissa also told Mari how she had become good friends with Anna and Gerda and Anna’s brother. She tried to make the transition as easy on her sister as she could, but it was always harder for Mari than it was for her.
Before Mari got into the wagon to drive off with Pierre, Clarissa hugged her. It was hard to let go, knowing that for the next two or more weeks the only person she would see was Pierre when he came to bring her more provisions. It wasn’t as hard on Mari when she was the one to stay at the camp. She was quieter, but Clarissa liked to have people around her. It would be lonely.
Clarissa watched them drive away until the shadows swallowed up the wagon in the forest. Then she went into the caravan, threw herself on the bed, and cried herself to sleep.
Four
Marissa twisted around on the wagon seat so she could see her sister as long as possible. Every time they were separated, she felt as if her heart were torn apart. They were two different and distinct personalities, but Marissa felt as if Clari were her other half—the brighter, smarter half. Marissa longed for the days before Pierre married their mother. She and Clari had been together constantly. During the early days of the marriage, he started separating them as much as he could. He told Mother their close relationship was unhealthy, and they would never develop into the women they should if they didn’t do more things apart.
Unfortunately, Mother agreed with him. Clari adapted well with the new activities, but Marissa had never adjusted. While Clari became more outgoing, Marissa withdrew into herself. That was why this confidence game they were pulling was so painful. Every time it happened, something died inside her. She felt guilty, dirty, and unredeemable. Of course, it didn’t help when Pierre told her she was as guilty as he was. It reinforced what she already felt.
“You can turn around now,” Pierre sneered. “You won’t see her for two weeks.” Then he laughed. An evil laugh that echoed through the thick forest and bounced back to haunt her.
Marissa turned toward the front of the wagon and straightened her shoulders. She wouldn’t let him know how much he hurt her. If she did, he’d only chide her more harshly.
Marissa didn’t like this journey through the forest. It was too shadowy. It reminded her of one of the enchanted
forests in the fairy tales Mother had read to them. Any moment, she expected an ogre to step out from behind a tree and attack, or at least growl. She enjoyed life in the pleasant glade, but now she was back in the evil forest. Even the sound of birds singing had quieted with the coming of twilight—twilight that made the forest shadows darken. Would they never get through this horrible place?
Though much of the journey to Litchfield took them over uneven ground, Marissa didn’t mind it. They were out in the open, away from the shadows that mirrored the darkness deep inside her.
When they reached town, the streets were silent—all except the one where the saloon was located. At least they didn’t drive down that one. Near the train depot, Pierre turned the wagon across the tracks and into a quiet residential area. When he pulled up in front of a lovely two-story Victorian house, Marissa studied it with interest. The pleasant aroma of the evening meal wafted on the air, causing her stomach to give an unladylike growl. Before Pierre could help her down, she climbed over the wheel of the wagon. She didn’t like his touching her. Clari had told her she didn’t either, but both of the sisters had noticed he took every opportunity to do so.
“Mr. Le Blanc, Rissa, I was afraid you weren’t going to make it back before dinner was over.” Marissa looked up at the motherly woman who had come out on the front porch. “All the other boarders are eating now. Come on in. I set places for you, just in case.”
Marissa followed her through the door into the front hall. She was glad they weren’t staying at the hotel. Living in this house, she could pretend she was like most people.
“Rissa, dear, did you enjoy the sightseeing?”
Marissa looked into the woman’s kind face and smiled. “Yes, the day was very interesting.”
That seemed to satisfy the woman’s curiosity. She led Marissa into the dining room. All conversations around the large table ceased as everyone looked at Marissa. She wanted to sink into the floor, but she stiffened her backbone and smiled. She saw at least one person she knew. August. Let’s see—what was his last name? Nilsson, wasn’t it?
Double Deception Page 3
