Lenora’s sobs were louder now, despite the napkin she used to muffle them.
“Do you want to talk?”
After a minute Lenora removed the napkin from her face and nodded her head in assent. Her face and eyes were red and puffy from crying. “I need water,” she said. Mrs. Nolan removed her arm so that Lenora could get up from her chair. She walked to the bucket she kept on her work table, dipped the napkin into the water she had left there for cooking, and refreshed her face with it. The startling effect of cold water helped to stem the sobs. “I’m going to have another cup of coffee,” said Lenora shakily, as if to fortify herself for what was ahead. “And you?”
“Yes, to the top,” said Mrs. Nolan, perhaps sensing the same need.
Lenora poured for them both and then sat down and faced her guest. She put her hands on her lap and straightened her back, prepared at last for this dreaded moment. She knew without doubt that it was time. Time to confess. And strangely, she felt ready, even eager, to release the weight of her awful burden. “On the night James left, we had a terrible fight.”
Mrs. Nolan’s pupils widened with surprise, but the rest of her face was placid.
“I said evil things to him, Etta. Unforgivable things.”
“What happened, Lenora? What made you so upset?”
“We had argued before. Many times. The same thing. He was killing himself, Etta. He was buying more Brahmans, enlarging the pasture. Working. Always working. Many times I asked to help him but he wouldn’t let me. He said I wasn’t brought up to do barn chores. I would have gladly helped, Etta. I wanted this ranch as much as he did.”
“I know you would have helped, dear.”
“And I watched him work often, so I wasn’t entirely useless. I couldn’t do most jobs as well as he could, but I could have at least helped.”
“Yes.”
“I told him, ‘James, you have to hire someone to help you.’ But he wouldn’t. He kept saying we couldn’t afford it and that he’d be fine.”
Lenora spooned cream into her coffee, stirred it a bit, and took a sip. The sound of Ulysses’ chain dragging across the yard interrupted the momentary silence. Lenora had taken to chaining Ulysses during the day to ensure that he stayed on the property. She needed him to alert her when someone was approaching. Not only that, the sound of the dog’s chain dragging back and forth, back and forth, during the long, lonely days since James left comforted her. Likely now Ulysses had spotted some small field animal and was preparing to pursue it.
“But it wasn’t fine.” Anger rose in Lenora’s voice. “That Saturday night, I asked him to please set out the bathing tub for me. We had church service next day.”
Mrs. Nolan nodded, set down her coffee cup, and listened.
“James always brought in the tub for me on Saturday night, and emptied it again too. But when I asked him to set out the tub, he went crazy, Etta. He started yelling at me, saying awful things. Horrible things.” Lenora put her hand to her mouth and shut her eyes tight at the memory. “He terrified me. All I could think was that he was working so hard, always so hard. He was so tired. It was too much for him. He must have been exhausted beyond measure.”
“I’m sure he was.”
“But instead of waiting for him to calm down, I got mad.”
“What did you say?” asked Mrs. Nolan, timidly, as if she were afraid of the answer.
“I told him that first thing Monday I was going to go town and hire Sam Wright myself, whether he agreed or not.”
“Oh my.” Mrs. Nolan put her hand over her heart. “That must have riled him something awful.”
“Oh Etta! I had asked him so many times to hire Sam, but every time he said no. Money. It was always the money.”
“Hired hands do cost.”
“I know that. But it wasn’t only the money. He didn’t like Sam. He never really said why. He just didn’t like him. I knew it would make him furious if I brought up Sam’s name, but I was so tired myself after being on my feet cooking and cleaning all day that I didn’t care.”
“Sam drinks.”
“They all drink! Do you know of a ranch hand around who doesn’t drink?”
Mrs. Nolan didn’t have time to answer.
“I wanted to make him mad, Etta. I wanted him to see how his exhaustion was turning him into a wild man. I wanted to have a big fight to end all fights, to deal with our problem instead of each of us going our separate ways all the time, me sulking in one room and him brooding in another. Nothing ever changed,” said Lenora, exasperation evident in her voice.
Mrs. Nolan put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand, taking it all in. “What happened next? To make him leave, I mean,” she asked.
“I was screaming at him. I don’t remember ... I don’t even remember what I was saying. I was out of my mind with anger at him, and then…” Lenora started to breathe heavily and noisily, clutching her middle, gasping for breath. “Then his hands were around my neck, and he was choking me.” She let out a little sob.
“Dear Lord have mercy,” whispered Mrs. Nolan.
“Then he looked stricken, and he let go. He didn’t hold my neck very long, Etta. Only for a few seconds. He didn’t mean to harm me. He just ... he lost control and I—”
“Oh Lenora.”
“He left me then—we were in the kitchen—and he went to the bedroom and got his coat and hat. I said, ‘Where are you going?’ And he said, ‘Out.’ And I saw his gold pocket watch on the table. Oh Etta, James loves that watch. His father gave it to him when he turned eighteen—it was his grandfather’s—and it is so precious to him. He wears it everywhere. And I picked it up and I threw it at him. And I screamed, screamed, Etta, ‘You forgot your watch!’ It struck his back. Then he reached down and picked it up and he looked at me, and he looked so, so broken. I’d never seen a look like that on his face before. He didn’t say anything. Not good-bye. Nothing. He slipped the watch into his coat pocket and left. When he shut the door I started screaming at him all over again. I was like a mad woman, Etta. I screamed and screamed. I told him I hoped he died out on the prairie. I told him to never come back.”
Lenora laid her head down on the table, convulsing with grief. Mrs. Nolan put one hand on Lenora’s head, smoothed her hair and prayed, speaking unintelligible, soothing words. After a few minutes Lenora quieted herself, sat up, and waited for Mrs. Nolan’s response. The woman tenderly reached for Lenora’s hand.
“Lenora, I know you feel terrible about the things you said, and James is guilty too, but not for one minute do I believe that he left you because of what you said or did.”
Lenora did not meet her eyes. She only nodded, keeping her eyes on her lap.
“Did James ever hit you, Lenora?”
“No! Never!” Lenora lifted her head up to say this, as if for emphasis. “He gets in a lather easy enough. Everybody knows that. But he’s not a wife beater.”
“James cares about you, Lenora. He loves you.”
Lenora nodded again, speechless and spent.
“Don’t let the enemy bury you alive in guilt and condemnation. You’re listening to lies.”
“If James could have returned to you after he left that night, he would have. He would not abandon you, Lenora.” Mrs. Nolan’s tone was of utmost confidence. “Something happened to him out there by the North-East Creek. If not, he would have jumped right back on that fine horse of his and ridden straight to this ranch as soon as he had cooled off.”
“How can you be so sure?” said Lenora.
“James would never leave his horse to starve or freeze to death in a surprise spring squall. Everyone knows James Rose took good care of his animals. And Lenora," she added, "If James wouldn't abandon his horse, do you think he would abandon you?"
Lenora shook her head and screwed up her face in pain. Etta's assessment made sense, but Lenora was too distraught to speak, her mind assailed by doubts. She caused James a lot more grief than Beauty ever had.
“If they
hadn’t found his horse, Lenora, I might believe differently. Then maybe, maybe I’d believe that he left you of his own power. But that’s not what happened.”
“He didn’t drown!” said Lenora, finding her voice.
“Maybe not. But likely, he is dead. There’s no other plausible reason for him not to be here with you now. Only the Great Divide would keep him away from you and this ranch.”
Lenora leaned over the table, her head in her hands.
“Do you believe that, Lenora?”
A long pause. Lenora sat up again and looked directly at her guest. “James wouldn’t intentionally leave Beauty to die. That’s unthinkable,” said Lenora.
“Of course.”
“But I’ll never believe that my husband stupidly fell into the North-East Creek and drowned.”
Mrs. Nolan nodded.
“As for what did happen to him, why he hasn’t returned ... I honestly don’t know what I believe, Etta,” Lenora shook her head. “I’m tormented day and night by that question. I think about one scenario then another. I never come to a logical answer. And when I don’t find an answer, I go over all the facts again. It’s all I ever think about. Not knowing is making me crazy.”
The women sat silently a few moments, overwhelmed by the awfulness of the story Lenora had just shared and the frustration of the unknown. The disappearance of James Rose loomed before them like a mighty, unscalable wall. There was nothing to do but wait. They’d said everything there was to be said.
“How long will you wait, Lenora?”
“Wait?” Lenora looked eye to eye at Mrs. Nolan. “Forever. I’ll wait forever, Etta, if that’s how long it takes.”
“You mean until you have his body?”
“Yes, until I have his body.”
In the heavy silence that followed, Lenora pushed back her chair and reached for her dirty plate and silver. She carried them to the bucket of sudsy water by the dry sink where they landed at the bottom with a muffled clunk.
“And if they don’t find a body, will you sell?”
“Give up the ranch? Never.” Her words were resolute but her heart was quavering. When James was there the long hours of arduous ranch work were meaningful; they were building a dream. The ranch had purpose, and working it together gave them power. Without James the ranch was lifeless and dull, mere equipment, buildings, and dirt. Until now Lenora had not realized how very much more important relationships were than possessions. She hid this thought from her friend. She may have already lost James. If she lost the ranch she would have lost it all. She had to keep believing that James would return. Any other scenario was too painful to contemplate. She wouldn’t put flesh on the bones of her fear by voicing them aloud.
“Body or no body, people are already talking,” said Mrs. Nolan. She folded her napkin and placed it on the table.
“Oh I’m sure they are. And what do they say about the wacky woman who refuses to play the grieving widow?” Lenora already had a good idea of the nature of the gossip circulating around town, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear specifics. “Whatever wild tales you’ve heard, I just hope they won’t lead to a dunking.”
Mrs. Nolan chuckled at Lenora’s reference to a colonial witch test. “It’s not that grave. Some just think that the juices of grief have pickled your brain,” she said, making a circular motion with her finger near her head to indicate insanity.
Lenora rolled her eyes and shrugged. Mrs. Nolan laughed at her histrionics.
“Others are offended that you’re not wearing black.”
Lenora stopped drying the dish in her hand. “I’ll shroud myself in mourning clothes when I have a reason to!”
“Of course you will, dear. You always do the right thing.”
“Meddlesome busybodies,” muttered Lenora, drying the dish distractedly.
“Then there’s the scuttlebutt about you and Deputy Davies.”
This time Lenora put down the dish and rag and turned full around to face her friend. Oh dear. “And what blather is that?” She tried to sound casual, as if she hadn’t a clue, but the knowing look she saw in the older woman’s eyes told Lenora this was no casual moment.
“People can be cruel, Lenora.”
“What have you heard?” Lenora almost stopped breathing from the strain. She walked to her chair at the table and sat down.
“Some are making a big to-do out of the coincidences.”
“Coincidences?” Lenora was truly puzzled.
“Deputy Davies seems to be around you or your place a lot.”
“Hmpf,” said Lenora. “That much is true. But I’m under investigation for murder, so he tells me. Naturally he watches what I do and searches for opportunities to question me.” She said this matter-of-factly, but her heart was pounding like a drum. She had worried from the start that the handsome deputy’s many public appearances with her would start the rumor mill grinding. Now that she found herself attracted to the man, she feared her feelings were etched across her forehead for all to see, like that hapless Esther Prynne and her scarlet letter. Only Lenora hadn’t indulged in anything more scandalous than looking and admiring. Life was not fair.
And were the deputy’s intentions entirely grounded in a legitimate need to perform investigative tasks? Lately Lenora had taken to wondering.
Mrs. Nolan observed Lenora’s emotional response but said nothing.
“Murder and adultery. Well, I can’t sink much lower, can I?” said Lenora, bluffing. “I have no children to beat or starve, and it’s been so long since I robbed a bank that I’ve quite forgotten how, so I guess I have truly hit bottom.”
Lenora hoped to deflect the seriousness of the gossip she’d just heard with humor. It worked. Both women laughed out loud, though Lenora was shaking within.
“I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” said Mrs. Nolan, still laughing.
“No, only my mind. But that’s no big loss, is it?” said Lenora, wiping the tears—this time from laughing—from her eyes with the dish rag. “Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof.”
“True.”
Laughing released the tension in the kitchen. Then Mrs. Nolan sobered a bit and turned to Lenora.
“Besides the worries, how are you feeling otherwise?”
“Tired, all the time tired. I go to bed early enough but when I wake up it’s like I never slept.”
“The strain of waiting and not knowing takes a lot out of a body.”
Lenora nodded in agreement.
“Mrs. Slocomb tells me Ben’s helping out with the chores,” said Mrs. Nolan.
“Yes, God bless him. I don’t know how I’d manage without him. I can’t keep accepting his favors, though. I have to hire Sam as soon as I can find him.”
“Favors?”
“I’m not paying Ben. He refuses money.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Nolan. “I see your dilemma.” That seemed to put her in an odd state of consternation. She tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. “Perhaps he just wants to be a good neighbor in a practical sort of way.”
“Perhaps. But for how long?”
“Don’t let pride provoke you into something rash, Lenora. James must have had good reason to dislike Sam Wright. Perhaps he knew something about him that you didn’t. Men talk.” Mrs. Nolan dragged her cake plate toward her again and took a bite, daintily wiping her mouth with her napkin.
“I can’t keep leaning on neighbors, Etta.”
“They don’t seem to mind. Only you mind.”
Lenora sighed. “The one piece of information I really need is not whom to hire but how long to hire. If I thought James would show up at the door tomorrow or next week I’d say fine, Ben can keep coming over without pay. But I can’t take advantage of the boy. He could be working for nothing for a very long time. Only God knows how long. I have to hire someone.”
“Hmm,” said Mrs. Nolan, putting down her fork. “Maybe you should talk to Deputy Davies about that.”
“Deputy Davies?” Lenora stiffe
ned in her seat like a hound dog on alert. “What does he have to do with this?”
“He might have some thoughts on hired hands and who’s reliable and such. It’s his job to know what people are up to. Perhaps he can give you some names.”
Lenora eyed her friend. “You know something?”
“Nothing in particular. I do know that Sam Wright and Deputy Davies both spent time near Fort Laramie. Perhaps the deputy knows something about Sam’s background.”
“I see.”
“What are you going to do, dear?” asked Mrs. Nolan.
“I don’t know. I’m too tired to make all these decisions, Etta. I’ll sleep on it one more day.”
The friends chatted a while longer and then said their good-byes with much hugging and well wishes. Mrs. Nolan promised to return soon and made Lenora promise to call on her if she needed anything. Lenora watched wistfully as her friend’s buckboard rode away in a thin cloud of dust. As the dust diminished to a tiny gray dot on the prairie, Lenora felt more sad and lonely than she ever had in her life.
#
Lenora’s eyes popped open for no apparent reason. In the soft and silvery moon glow she saw the fuzzy shape of Ulysses, fully abandoned to secret doggy dreams, lying on his side on the floor next to her bed. Though she could not see anything distinctly in the dimness, she imagined his chest rising and falling in rhythmic cadence. She imagined him sleeping deeply, as he should, without a care in the world.
Before she had enough time to start missing James’ warm body next to hers, the door latch jiggled in the front room. Lenora’s heart jumped to her throat. With one seamless motion her hand was on James’ rifle, the bed quilt was flung into the air, her feet were on the chilly wooden floor, and Ulysses was out the bedroom door and in the front room, jumping madly, front paws on the door, barking with all his might. Over the hullabaloo from her dog, Lenora heard the sound of someone’s feet sprinting through the yard. She peered through the front window, but even with the faint moonlight, she saw nothing but ghostly silhouettes of her out buildings and a few trees.
Crazy Woman Creek Page 10
