Would Caleb ever tell him or Caroline what had happened to him? What caused him to end up on the streets by himself?
Eric placed his hand on the boy’s back. Caleb looked up at him, and Eric smiled at him. “You’re a smart boy. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. With that head of yours, you can accomplish anything you want.”
Caleb didn’t seem to know what to think of Eric’s words, but that was just as well. He was still young. In the future, though, he might remember back on this moment and believe in himself when others would have him do otherwise.
“Are you ready to eat?” Caroline called out to them.
Without a word, Caleb put the chalk down and went to the table. Eric thought back to what Caroline had said about Caleb not wanting the cookies Ida brought over. Caleb, however, had no problem accepting the food Lois provided. There had to be something different between Ida and Lois, and Caleb was sensitive to that difference.
“Eric?” Caroline asked.
He glanced over at his wife and saw she was giving him a hopeful smile that he’d try the meal Lois had helped her make.
“Come on, Sheriff.” Lois waved him over. “The food won’t stay hot forever.”
“I’m coming.” He stood up and went over to join them.
***
“Did you really like dinner?” Caroline asked later that evening as they got ready for bed.
Eric glanced up from the cider he was making in the pot and smiled at her. “Yes, I did. Just as I liked the pancakes. You did a lot of work today, and your efforts paid off.”
She bit her lower lip. “Caleb ate it, too.”
“Yes, he did.” Sensing she needed more reassurance, he turned to her and put his hands on her arms, giving them a gentle squeeze. “If Caleb ate it, then you know it’s good. Caleb doesn’t do anything unless he wants to. It wasn’t anything like the soup you tried to make.”
She laughed, and he felt the tension leave her body. “That’s true. I still feel bad for burning the food to the bottom of the pot.”
“It was old. I was ready to get rid of it anyway.”
“No, you weren’t. It might have been old, but it was in good condition. You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but then he realized he should tell her the truth. It was only fair. “Alright,” he relented. “I wasn’t going to throw it out, but it was old. Caroline, you’re more important than a pot. Pots can be replaced. You can’t.” He kissed her. “I am telling you the truth about your pancakes and the dinner you made tonight. Those were good.”
Noting the cider was boiling, he took it off the cookstove and stirred it.
“I want to be a good wife,” she said.
“You are. There’s more to being a good wife than knowing how to cook and clean and sew. The most important quality is your heart. And you have a good one. I know it’s hard not to let people like Ida bother you, but her opinion is just her opinion. It doesn’t change who you are. The people who matter understand that.”
“I’m only concerned about what you think.”
“Well, now that you know what I think, you can relax.” He poured the cider into two cups and handed one to her. “Plus, a little cider will help. You did a lot of work today. Sit on the couch and rest.”
Her lips curling up into a smile, she did as he said. He cleaned the pot and put it on the hook to dry. Then he picked up the cup and went to sit beside her. In the soft glow of the kerosene lamp, he couldn’t help but think that when she smiled, the rest of the world faded away. She really wasn’t so plain when he took the time to study her face. In fact, she was quite pretty.
He set the cup on the table in front of them and then took hers so he could do the same with it.
She chuckled. “I thought you wanted me to drink some cider.”
“I do, but it’s hot. We need to let it cool off.”
He closed the distance between them so he could wrap her in his arms. Lowering his head to hers, he kissed her. She seemed to melt against him, an indication that she enjoyed being with him this way.
As much as he didn’t want to give credence to anything Lydia said, it did bother him to know some women out there would go out and tell someone how lousy their husbands were in bed. Even Ida, for all her faults, hadn’t ever voiced a complaint about Mike in that regard.
Caroline ended their kiss and looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. “Is something on your mind?”
He almost said no, but then he figured it would be easier if he addressed this issue early in their marriage. That way, if he was doing something wrong, he could change it now while he was still learning what she liked and what she didn’t like.
“Alright, I’ll ask you, but promise you won’t laugh,” he said.
“I wouldn’t laugh at anything you ask me. What is it?”
“When we’re in there,” he motioned to their bedroom, “are you satisfied with the way I do things?”
“Yes. Are you satisfied with the way I do things?”
“Sure, but it doesn’t take much to please a man. The main things are showing up and being happy to be there.”
At that, she grinned. “That’s easy to do.”
For some, perhaps, but according to Lydia, it wasn’t for other women.
“What brought this up? Have I done or said something to make you think I’m not happy in the bedroom?”
“No. You haven’t voiced a complaint about anything since you got here. It was something someone said. I don’t want to be like Ida and give the details, but suffice it to say I discovered some women aren’t happy with their husbands, and I want to make sure you aren’t one of them.”
“I’m very happy with you.” Lowering her voice, she added, “I even look forward to it.”
“That’s good. And just so you know, if you’re ever not happy with anything I’m doing, let me know so I can do things better.”
“I’ll do that if you promise to let me know when something I cook isn’t good. That way I’ll know not to make it again, or I can try making it better.”
“It’s a deal.”
She smiled. “Good. Now, let’s drink that cider so we can go to bed.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He gave her the cup, took his, put his arm around her shoulders, and drank his cider.
Chapter Fifteen
Eric couldn’t say he was all that surprised when Carl came up to him the next day while he checked to make sure everything was peaceful in the town.
Carl stopped him just as he passed the saloon. “Hi, Sheriff,” he greeted, tipping his hat. “I was wondering if you’ve seen my wife.”
“I haven’t seen her since last night,” Eric replied, deciding it’d be best if he didn’t say why she’d come to talk to him. “Why? Is there something you need help with?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing you can do. I just need to talk to her. Will you let me know if you see her?”
“Sure.”
Eric supposed that wasn’t too much to ask. As much as he didn’t like getting involved in these things, he could let Carl know if he saw her.
Carl headed on down the dusty road, so Eric continued in the opposite direction. For the most part, things were relatively calm in the area. When he first got here, there were a couple of shootouts and brawls, but after enforcing the laws, most of the commotion died down. So really, the night he’d had to go up to Abe’s place was the worst he had to deal with in about a year. Not bad, as far as he was concerned.
Of course, around the time one would think such a thing was when something horrible occurred. And that’s just the position Eric found himself in when, a half hour later, Maude and Gretchen came running up to him just after he’d finished talking to Daniel at the general store.
“Sheriff,” Maude told him, her voice shaking, “you have to come with us.”
“Yes, it’s awful, just awful,” Gretchen added, clasping and unclasping her hands.
“What is
it?” Eric asked.
“There’s a dead person,” Maude said. “A woman.”
Gretchen put her hands over her mouth to stifle a cry. “It’s awful. Just awful. I’ll never get that image out of my mind for as long as I live.”
“Show me the body,” Eric replied.
Gretchen went to his left and Maude went to his right. On one accord, they wrapped their arms around his and led him down the road and toward the outskirts of town.
“When did you find her?” he asked.
“Just now. We were going out for a walk,” Maude told him. “We do this every afternoon as long as the weather’s nice.”
“And it was nice today,” Gretchen added, though it wasn’t necessary.
“Gretchen was the one who noticed it.”
“It was awful. Just awful.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I saw a bright red color as we passed the ravine south of town.” She gulped and shook her head, as if doing so would remove the image of the body from her mind. “Awful. I’ve never seen anything so awful in my entire life.”
“Did you notice who the body belongs to?” Eric asked Gretchen.
“I have no idea, Sheriff. I’m sorry. I was so scared I didn’t get into the ravine to get a good look at her.”
“Me neither,” Maude added. “We ran to town to find you.”
“It’s alright,” he assured them. “I’ll find out who it is when we get there.”
The rest of the way there, the women continued bemoaning their fate in being the ones to discover the corpse. It was shock that propelled them to ramble the way they were, and Eric couldn’t blame them. He recalled the first time he came across a dead body. It had been when he was seventeen. He’d been delivering supplies to the general store when a shot rang out from behind him. He’d whirled around in his wagon in time to see the black man fall to the ground.
A white man had shot him, claiming he’d robbed him. It turned out the black man had been innocent. Even with that being the case, no one had cared he’d been killed, nor was the white man held accountable for killing him. To this day, that incident still bothered him, though there was nothing he could do about it. The white man went free, and no one knew who had robbed him.
“There it is,” Maude said, once they were a mile out of town. “Down there.”
After he pried them off of him, he stepped up to the edge of the road, surprised when the women didn’t join him since they had pretty much attached themselves to him during the whole way here.
His feet stopped shy of the ravine that was a good ten feet down from where he was standing. His gaze swept the leaves covering the ground until he noticed the color red. The red happened to be the color of her dress. She was lying face down, long curly reddish blonde hair strewn across the leaves, her neck twisted at an odd angle. Her arms were twisted at an odd angle, too, and her hands were an unnatural shade of blue.
Yes, she was dead, alright.
He glanced at Maude and Gretchen. Though he was sure he didn’t have to issue the warning, he still said, “Stay here.”
As he expected, they nodded and didn’t move. He didn’t even think they dared to blink.
Turning his attention to the body, he carefully made his way down the ravine. He didn’t smell any decay, which told him she hadn’t been dead for more than a day at the most.
When he reached her, he carefully turned her over, noting the stiffness of the corpse, another indication she hadn’t been dead for long. He brushed the hair from her face and sharply inhaled. It was Lydia. Yes, there was a bruise-like stain in her face and neck since she’d died face down in the ravine, but there was no denying it was her.
She hadn’t been wearing a red dress when she came to see him yesterday afternoon. He was sure she’d been wearing a dark color. And her hair hadn’t been loose, either. It’d been neatly pulled back into a bun, much like the style most of the women chose. No wonder he hadn’t expected this to be her, even though few women had her hair color.
“Who is it?” Maude called out.
Glancing up at the two women, he yelled, “Lydia Richie!”
From next to her, Gretchen gasped and put her hand up to her mouth.
It really couldn’t be a surprise it was someone they all knew. They were far removed from other places, and only occasionally did a stranger come to town. Which also meant someone they knew had murdered her. Judging by the position of her body and the way the leaves were scattered across the ravine, there was no doubt she’d been pushed over the ravine.
More than that, she hadn’t put up a fight. There was no skin or hair under her fingernails, and when he inspected her mouth, there was no fragment of skin to indicate she’d bitten someone. No blood was on her clothes. No stabbing marks. No bullet wounds. So whoever had pushed her was someone she’d trusted, and she’d gone all the way here willingly with the murderer.
He left her body and climbed the ravine. There hadn’t been rain in days, which was going to make it harder to determine if there were any fresh horse or boot prints. Sure, there would be older tracks, but he needed something new. He studied the dirt road and saw some fresh boot prints, but upon inspecting Maude’s and Gretchen’s boots, he surmised the prints belonged to them. What he ended up finding were some wagon tracks that were close to the edge of the ravine.
After taking in all the evidence he could, he told the women to go to town and get Walt. “Tell him to bring his buckboard wagon and a blanket,” he concluded.
The women nodded and hurried to do as he wished.
Meanwhile, he sat by the ravine and tried to figure the approximate timing of her death and who had the motive to kill her.
***
Caroline opened the door, surprised when she saw Phoebe.
“I hope you don’t mind I stopped by,” Phoebe said. “Abe brought in some furs and food to sell in town. My mother went to visit with Lois, but I thought I’d come here.”
“Come on in,” Caroline invited, stepping aside so Phoebe could enter.
Phoebe turned to someone and waved, and it was then that Caroline noticed Abe. She waved to Abe, too, and he returned the gesture.
“He’ll come get me when he’s done,” Phoebe said.
“I’m glad you stopped by,” Caroline replied as she shut the door. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“I was looking forward to seeing you, too, which is why I didn’t want to visit with Lois today. Lois is nice, and I enjoy her company. But she’s more of my mother’s friend than mine.”
“I understand. It’s easier to relate to someone closer to your age.”
“Exactly. So you know what I mean.” Phoebe looked over at Caleb who was at the table, working on writing the letter B on the small chalkboard. “That looks really good, Caleb.”
“I just started teaching him how to write,” Caroline told her. “We’ll start with the alphabet and then work on the words.”
“You mean this is his first time writing anything?”
“He told me he didn’t know how to read or write.” Well, he hadn’t come out and stated it that way, but he’d shaken his head when she asked him about it. “When he starts school, I want him to be ready.”
Phoebe smiled. “I have no doubt he will with you and Eric for parents.”
Pleased by her kind words, Caroline returned her smile. “It’s a nice day. Would you like to have some lemonade and sit on the porch? I made lemonade from the recipe you gave me, so it shouldn’t taste bad.”
Phoebe chuckled. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. I made some mistakes along the way while I was learning how to cook.”
“Your meals are so delicious. I have a hard time believing you ever made mistakes.”
“It’s true. I’ll tell you all about them while we sip our lemonade on the porch. But first,” she added as she closed the distance to Caroline, “I have some good news, and I couldn’t wait to tell you. That’s why I asked Abe if he’d go into town today instead of waiting until next week like he orig
inally planned.”
Picking up on her excitement, Caroline asked, “What is it?”
“I’m in the family way!”
Caroline’s smile widened. “You are?”
She nodded. “And better yet, Abe is happy about it. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to convince him to marry me, so I wasn’t sure he’d be happy about having a child. But now that I know he’s happy, I wanted to come and tell you. Well, that is, after I told my mother.”
“That is good news.” Caroline gave her a hug. “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”
“Either one will be fine, but I think it’d be nice if Abe had a son. He never felt close to his father. I think he’d make it a point to be there for his son and teach him everything he knows about hunting and taking care of the land. But if we have a girl, I know he’ll be good to her, too.”
“My father and brother used to do everything together. I did more things with my mother. I think it’s natural for boys to bond more with their fathers and for girls to bond more with their mothers.” After a moment passed between them, she said, “I’ll get the lemonade.” She went over to Caleb. “Would you like to come with us?”
He set his chalk and slate aside and got down from the chair.
Taking that as a yes, Caroline poured a glass for all three of them and led the way outside.
When she sat in one of the chairs, Caleb asked, “Can I sit on your lap?”
“Of course, you can,” she replied.
Phoebe grinned at her. “I suppose boys can be close to their mothers, too.”
“And girls can be close to their fathers,” Caroline mused.
As Phoebe sat in her chair, Caroline wrapped her arm around Caleb and helped him get into a comfortable position on her lap. She wondered if Caleb did this with the person who used to take care of him. Perhaps it was his mother, and they often sat outside together. Maybe they even drank lemonade.
Caroline took a sip of her lemonade and realized it was a little too tart. “I think I didn’t put in as much sugar as you told me to.”
“I think it tastes alright,” Phoebe said. “It’s just like the kind I make. Maybe you prefer things sweeter than I do. In that case, add more sugar next time. That’s the thing about recipes. There is no right way to make anything. Everyone’s tastes will vary. Adjust the recipe to what pleases you.”
The Mistaken Mail Order Bride Page 13
