After the service, Pierre spent a lot of time talking to various people he considered important. As a result, the two of them were among the last ones to head home. On the way back to the boardinghouse, Marissa told him she wanted to talk to him about something important. He looked at her from under hooded eyes, studying her as a snake studies its prey. And that’s what she felt like—Pierre’s prey.
When they finished eating with the other boarders, he led her to the surrey. They drove toward Lake Ripley. Near the lake, he pulled into a grove of trees and let the horses graze on the green grass that was growing close to the water. Because of the dry summer, most of the other grass had turned brown.
“Now, Marissa, what did you want to talk about?” Pierre scowled.
Marissa sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands while she talked. She didn’t want to see his expression. If she did, she might not be able to continue.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” For a moment, the only sound she heard was the birds fluttering from branch to branch above them. Nothing else moved in the heat.
“I know that. You and Clarissa have made your wishes known often enough.” Pierre spoke in a monotone.
He removed a cheroot from the pocket of his vest and lit it. She had told him often enough that she didn’t like for him to smoke around her, so he blew the smoke in her direction. He liked to torment her. She ignored it. She didn’t want to be sidetracked from her purpose.
“I mean it this time.” Marissa turned away and took another deep breath, then blurted out, “I want a fresh start, a new life.”
Pierre gave a mirthless laugh. “And you think you can do that? Make a fresh start?”
Marissa dropped her gaze back to her hands and nodded.
“It was that church service, wasn’t it?” Pierre sneered. “You believe all those fairy tales, don’t you?”
He flicked his ashes over the side of the buggy, but some landed on her dress. Since they weren’t on fire anymore, they did no damage. She brushed them from her skirt and ventured a glance in his direction. His eyes were gleaming.
“Do you think any of those fine people in the service today would give you a chance if they knew what you’ve done? Don’t think such silly thoughts. You’re a criminal. You have been for many years. You’re as guilty as I am. That’s what everyone will think if we are ever caught.” He took another long draw on the awful-smelling little cigar.
Tears made their way down her cheeks. Pierre didn’t care about them, but she couldn’t stop.
“There is no way out of the life we lead. Even if you left me, how could you afford to live? The only thing you could do is sell your body.” He knew that thought would disgust her. He always used that argument when she or Clari begged him to stop their life of crime.
A slight breeze shook the trees above them, but it wasn’t what caused the chills to run up and down Marissa’s spine. Pierre’s words did.
“You wouldn’t want to do that, would you?” His voice was quiet but harsh.
The very thought was abhorrent to her. She shook her head, and the hope that had started to take root in her heart withered.
❧
Lowell and Ollie rode back to the farm in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Lowell had slipped into the service right before the sermon. Joseph’s words went straight to his heart. He knew the Lord wouldn’t like this breach between Ollie and him.
After the service, while everyone was visiting in the church-yard, many people had asked about their father. Their friends committed to pray for him and for the family. Some even offered to help with the chores, but Lowell told them everything was under control right now. During that time, he watched Rissa and her father. Le Blanc seemed to be working the crowd, much as a politician would. What did he want from these people? It had to be something.
Several times Lowell caught Rissa looking at him. She gave him a shy smile, and he returned it. Just when he decided to go over and talk to her, Ollie approached her. Lowell didn’t know what he said, but she didn’t smile at him. Soon Ollie moved away. Now, on the trip home, the chasm between the brothers was as wide as it had ever been. How could they overcome it?
❧
Marissa didn’t feel like talking to anyone after the discussion yesterday with Pierre. So she stayed in her room. She didn’t go to the Dress Emporium or the mercantile, as she usually did. The words she had heard at church still tugged at her heart. She longed for what seemed to be just out of reach.
“Rissa.” A knock on her door accompanied Pierre’s voice. “I need to talk to you.”
She opened it reluctantly. He stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He walked to the window, then looked out while he talked to her.
“Our chance is coming up soon.” He turned and smiled at her.
Those words struck fear in her heart. She didn’t want the chance to come anytime, especially not soon. When it did, her life here was over.
Pierre pulled a handbill from his pocket. He thrust it toward her. An artist’s rendition of a circus parade, complete with a woman riding an elephant, marched across the top of the handbill. The circus was coming to town.
“I talked to the front man for the circus. They’re making Litchfield their last stop before the circus train heads for their winter quarters in Florida. After I talked to him, I checked around town.” He turned and smiled. “No one here has ever seen the circus. That’s good for us. Most everyone will attend out of curiosity. This town will be ripe for the picking. We should have no trouble with our plans.” He rubbed his hands together and gave his evil smile. Then he stuck one hand in his pocket and jingled the coins there.
For a moment, Marissa felt brave. “I’ve never seen a circus, either. I want to go.”
Pierre frowned. “You won’t be going. Clarissa will. You are much better at the other part of the plan than she is.”
With his words, the last vestiges of hope she had hidden in her heart died.
Seven
Lowell hoped the doctor would be able to help his father. Every day Father suffered more and grew weaker. Dr. Bradley couldn’t find what caused the terrible fever. It had to be some kind of infection, but what? Doc told Lowell he had sent telegrams to several colleagues in other states, trying to find out if anyone had seen symptoms like this. He also ordered medical books to add to his library. When he wasn’t treating patients, he studied them, trying to find something that would explain this malady so he could treat it.
As Lowell worked on the farm, he prayed for his father, and he prayed for Doc to find an answer that would bring relief. Of course, a miracle would be welcome too. But most days he felt as if his prayers didn’t get past the roof of the barn. If he was in the pasture, he was sure they got caught in the treetops nearby. God seemed far away. Lowell figured the problem he and Ollie were having hindered his prayers.
Of course, he and Ollie no longer exchanged cross words. They just didn’t talk to each other when no one else was around. They didn’t seem to have anything left to say. A tiny woman with black curly hair and sky blue eyes stood between them. Even though she was short, her presence provided a wall that neither of them could—or would—scale.
Lowell didn’t like what was happening, but every time he decided to agree with Ollie about Rissa, he remembered the hurt he had glimpsed deep in her eyes. He couldn’t believe she was the kind of person his brother thought she was. He didn’t think she was devious or two-faced. Lowell had seen a purity within her, but something held her captive. He was beginning to believe it was her father. What kind of hold did he have on her? Lowell hoped he could help her find a way to get away from whatever was causing her such pain. He had never seen any bruises on her body, but most of it was always covered, so he couldn’t be sure. If Le Blanc was beating her, Lowell would gladly show him how it felt.
❧
Ollie enjoyed spending time with the horses. They were undemanding and loved h
im unconditionally, not like some people in his family. While his brother did the other chores on the farm, Ollie took care of the horses. With soothing words and gentle hands, he fed them, groomed them, and slowly trained each one.
All the time he spent in the stable or pasture, his thoughts were constantly drawn toward the woman who kept him tied in knots. Only a couple of weeks ago, he’d spent every minute he could squeeze out of his busy day in town with Rissa. Her smiling eyes and quick wit drew him like a magnet. She had been interested in him. He had seen it in her eyes and heard it in the lilt of her voice. He didn’t know a lot about women, but he knew that for a certainty. Now she was an iceberg—cold and unmoving. She had time to smile at Lowell, but it wasn’t the same as the smiles they had shared before.
Something wasn’t right. No one could change his mind about that. He couldn’t help believing Pierre Le Blanc was behind the change in Rissa. Ollie was sure Le Blanc didn’t approve of all the time he spent with her, so he did something that caused her to change her opinion of Ollie. But what? What lies had he told her? He wanted to rush into town and confront the man, but he knew that wasn’t wise. Sometimes he wished he could throw caution to the wind and follow his heart.
It would have helped if he could talk to Lowell about this, but any mention of Rissa raised an insurmountable barrier between the two of them. It was better not to talk about her at all. They could never agree anyway.
When they were younger, Ollie looked up to Lowell. He was the best brother a boy could have, always looking after him and teaching him things. As they grew older, they became best friends as well as brothers. That was one reason they worked so well together. In such a short period of time, all that had changed. They were like strangers, and their estrangement affected every facet of their lives, even the other members of the family.
Since it was almost lunchtime, Ollie led the colt he was working with into the stable. After seeing to the horse’s needs, he headed up to the house to see if he could help get the meal on the table. Sometimes the women who brought the food served it; other times they didn’t. He wanted to be sure Mother wasn’t disturbed. She needed to stay with Father.
Ollie was washing his hands in the kitchen sink when he heard his mother call. “Ollie, is that you?” Somehow she always knew which son it was. They must sound different, even when they weren’t talking.
He hurried up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. His mother met him in the hall outside the door to his parents’ bedroom. She reached to hug him, and he gathered her into his arms, hoping to comfort her somehow.
“I’m glad you’ve come into the house.” Her voice was muffled against his broad chest, but he didn’t have any trouble understanding her. “Your father insists he must speak to his lawyer.” She pulled back and looked up at Ollie’s face. “I told him I would send whichever one of you came into the house first. Would you please go into town and bring Mr. Jones out here as quickly as you can?”
Ollie glanced through the partially open door and saw his father was asleep. He looked so frail, almost as though he were wasting away. “Yes. I’ll go right now. I can eat when I get back.”
His mother patted him on the shoulder. “You are such a good son, Ollie.” Then she returned to the rocking chair next to the bed.
Ollie watched her pick up her knitting. Even though her hands flew, performing the intricate needlework, she never took her eyes from his father’s still form. Her lips formed soundless words, and he knew she was praying.
❧
Lowell was eating his lunch when Ollie and another man rode up. He left his half-empty plate and went to open the front door. The two men had reached the porch. “Ollie. . .Mr. Jones?” He opened the door wider, and the lawyer immediately started up the stairs. Lowell looked at his brother with a questioning expression.
Ollie shrugged. “I’m famished.” He headed toward the kitchen.
Lowell followed him. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Ollie dished up some beef stew with corn bread, then answered his brother’s question. “Fader insisted on seeing his lawyer. Moder asked me to get him.” He turned toward the table where Lowell sat. “That’s all I know.”
Just after Ollie sat down, their mother came into the kitchen. She said she had taken some broth up to Father earlier, but she hadn’t eaten lunch. After filling a bowl from the food in the warming oven, she joined them.
For a few minutes, the only thing they did was eat. Then Lowell put his fork down and asked, “Do you know why Fader wants to talk to Mr. Jones?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t tell me, and he didn’t want me to stay in the room.” She pushed her food around the bowl with a spoon.
Lowell had noticed she didn’t eat much these days. He almost wished he hadn’t asked his question. He hoped it wouldn’t keep her from finishing lunch.
The three of them tried to make casual conversation, but it was sporadic. They took turns glancing at the ceiling as if they could see into the bedroom above and hear what was transpiring.
When he finished lunch, Lowell went outside to split some logs for the stove. But he couldn’t keep his mind on what he was doing. He was afraid the ax might slip and cut him. Besides, it was hot. When he went into the kitchen to pump a glass of cold water from the well, he saw Mother in a rocking chair in the parlor. She usually worked on needlework when she was there, but now she just sat still and stared out the window. Her hands lay idle in her lap.
Lowell stepped out on the porch and prayed for his mother and father. Just as he finished and looked up, he noticed someone galloping on a horse toward the house. Dr. Bradley leaped from his mare and quickly tied her to the hitching post. Lowell met him halfway.
“I think I’ve discovered what’s causing the infection!” Doc rushed toward the house, and Lowell had to hurry to keep up with him. “We can’t lose any time treating it, if it’s not too late already!”
A thought invaded Lowell’s consciousness—one he had pushed from his mind before, not letting it near. What if it was too late? He couldn’t lose his father. He just couldn’t. He still needed him. So did Mother—and Ollie.
Mother must have heard the commotion, because she opened the screen door before they reached it. “Come in, Dr. Bradley. What can I do to help?”
“Bring some boiling water up to the bedroom, along with clean pieces of material for compresses.”
Before he could rush up the stairs, Mr. Jones came down. He tipped his hat to Lowell’s mother and left quickly.
“What was he doing here?” the doctor asked.
Lowell followed him up the stairs. “Far wanted to see him. He’s been up there for a couple of hours.”
Doc frowned, then entered the bedroom and closed the door. Lowell hurried back downstairs to carry the hot water for his mother. She opened the door for him, and he set the large pan on the bedside table.
“I hate to do this, Lowell.” Doc had already rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. “But I’m going to have to ask you to let your mother and me take care of your father.”
Lowell glanced around the room. He wanted to help. But when he looked at his mother, he knew it would be better for her if he didn’t make a fuss.
When Lowell came back downstairs, he wanted to throw something—or hit someone. If he were younger, he might have done one of those things. Instead he went out to the front porch and sat on the top step. Ollie saw him and walked over from the barn to join him. They sat and waited. Neither of them wanted to voice the fear that had invaded their hearts. It wasn’t long before the doctor came out to join them, but it seemed like an eternity.
“I’m sorry.” Doc was rolling his sleeves back down and buttoning the cuffs. “I did all I could. The infection had been in his system too long.”
Ollie jumped up. “Tell me he’s not de—”
When his younger brother dropped his head into his hands and sobbed, Lowell went to him. He knew why his brother couldn’t finish that word. How could the
ir father be dead? As boys, Lowell had always taken care of Ollie and tried to keep him from getting hurt. Now he couldn’t stop Ollie’s pain; he felt the same thing.
Lowell looked at the doctor. “What caused the fever?” Tears clogged his throat.
“I finally heard from a colleague. He works near a horse farm in Kentucky. This kind of thing has happened there. If you’re not careful, you can get an especially virulent infection from horse manure. Your mother and I looked your father over, and we found a cut on his shin. I think that’s where the infection entered his body. But we were unable to treat it. If only I had found this out sooner, I might have been able to help him.”
Lowell could tell from the expression on Doc’s face that this had hurt him almost as much as it did them.
“Boys,” Doc continued, “I want you to be especially careful.” He looked stern. “Don’t ever go into the barn or anywhere there is horse manure if you have an untreated open cut or sore. It could be deadly.” He clapped his hat on his head and walked toward his horse with his head and shoulders slumped. He mounted and headed toward town, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. His horse walked slowly down the road.
❧
The next day passed in a blur. Lowell knew his mother, Anna, Ollie, and he had made several decisions together, but he wasn’t sure what they were. Mother spent most of the time in tears. Lowell fought to keep from crying. When he looked at Ollie, he could tell he was having the same battle. Once Doc reached town, word spread quickly. August brought Anna to the house so she could be with the family. A couple of neighbor women came and helped Mother get Father ready for the viewing. The town had an undertaker, but he was a stranger. They didn’t want to take Father to him. Neighbors and church members sat with them around the clock until the funeral. Bennel, Gustaf, and August Nilsson worked together to build the casket.
After the service in church, Gustaf and August drove the wagon carrying the casket to the knoll above the Jenson house where Father wanted to be buried. He and Mother had already decided to have the family cemetery in the small grove of trees on that hill. Father’s was the first.
Double Deception Page 6
