by Irene Brand
“I’m proud of you, Joseph.” Connie panted as she halted for breath at the end of the path. “You’re not a bit awkward, and your injury can’t be detected at all when you run. Three months has made a lot of difference.”
In more ways than one, Joseph thought as he watched Connie wipe perspiration from her glowing face and sit on the ground to go through a series of leg exercises. He couldn’t imagine a life without Connie, and he’d only known her a few months. Six months after he’d met Virginia, they’d been married. Should he be more cautious this time?
Chapter Eight
“Do we look like cowhands or what?” Kim joked as they walked toward the corral. They’d brought jeans and plaid shirts with them, but Joseph had provided wide-brimmed hats from the hall closet. Connie suspected that she and Kim had been given headgear that had belonged to Virginia, and the hat felt weighty on her head.
“Move them dogies out,” Eric responded loudly, and all of them laughed, for levity seemed out of place in his quiet character. The day started off in this carefree way, a break from routine that all of them needed.
Four horses were saddled when Joseph and his three guests arrived at the corral. “My favorite mount is a quarter horse,” Joseph explained, as he put an affectionate arm around a sturdy brown gelding.
A short, wiry man held the reins of the other horses, and Joseph introduced him, “This is Danny Keller. He’s the ranch foreman, and he’s carried the majority of the responsibility around here this year.”
Danny doffed his hat and greeted them with a toothy grin.
“Since you aren’t experienced riders, I asked Danny to saddle these Morgan horses for you. They’re easy-gaited and old enough that they won’t be frisky.”
“Are you sure?” Kim said, as she and Eric warily eyed the sleek brown horses, with dark manes and tails. Connie thought they looked docile enough. She hadn’t been on a horse for several years, but she was eager to take the ride, for she wanted to see Joseph’s ranch.
When Joseph helped her into the saddle, it seemed like a long way to the ground, and Connie was dizzy at first, but Joseph advised, “Learn to trust your horse. Piaute knows her way around the ranch and won’t need much help from you. Just hold the reins, and she’ll follow my mount.”
“Why the name Piaute?”
“I bought several horses from a Native American, and gave them Indian names.”
With some effort, Joseph and Danny settled Kim and Eric into their saddles and adjusted their stirrups. Then, with one fluid movement, Joseph swung into his saddle. While admiring his skill, Connie wondered if he’d ever participate in another rodeo. If she were asked, she’d advise against it. Even if Joseph’s hip had healed, bouncing up and down atop a twisting bronco wouldn’t do it any good. At this point, however, she wasn’t in a position to advise Joseph. Would she ever be?
Joseph took the lead, and Piaute moved out behind him with no guidance from Connie. Joseph followed a trail along a slow-moving creek that would eventually mingle its waters with the South Platte. Connie patted the smooth brown shoulder of the horse that provided her with a comfortable ride. The narrow trail made it necessary to ride single file, and she looked over her shoulder occasionally to see that Kim and Eric were following along.
Once she overcame her apprehension of riding, Connie watched for wildlife. A doe and her fawn grazed near the creek, but the doe hurriedly took her offspring into heavy foliage, where, with her ears pointed like antennae, she watched the riders. Somewhat familiar with Colorado animals, Connie recognized several brownish-gray spruce squirrels jumping from tree to tree, busily extracting seeds from evergreen cones. Small, striped chipmunks scattered before the horses, their cheeks bulging with food they’d scavenged from the ground. Striking jays, with gray, white and black plumage, noisily protested the human invasion. She saw no beaver, but several fallen logs indicated that this stream provided a habitat for them.
When the trail became steeper, Connie felt added pressure on her back and thighs, and by the time Joseph halted his horse on the shore of a small lake, one of her legs prickled with little spurts of pain, and the other one was partially numb. She was ready to dismount when Joseph swung easily from the saddle and came to her side.
“Will this site be okay for a picnic?”
Water gushed from the lake into a narrow chute, tumbling noisily over a rocky base to form a tiny cataract. Douglas firs dotted the foothills, some of them bent and distorted from natural disasters. A maple tree hung over a wide, flat rock near the lake, providing a canopy for their picnic. With his guests displaying saddle weariness, Joseph said, “Walk around and get the stiffness out of your joints while I start a fire and prepare our lunch.” When Kim and Connie protested, he added, “You’re my guests today. I don’t need any help.”
When they returned a half hour later, the fire had dwindled to a glowing bed of coals, and four steaks sizzled on a small, portable grill. Ears of corn, wrapped in foil, lay at the edge of the coals, and Joseph used tongs to turn them. He’d spread a blanket on the big rock, and had set out a thermos of decaf, a bowl of fruit salad, brown bread, bottles of pink grapefruit punch and a peach pie.
“I suppose you prepared all of this food,” Kim said pertly to Joseph.
“No, I can’t take much credit—all I’m doing is grilling the steaks. Jean fixed everything else.”
The aroma of the sizzling steaks tantalized Connie’s taste buds, and she passed around the plates, waiting for the tasty steaks to be ready. She requested her meat well-done, while the others preferred medium-rare, so she had to wait longer for her portion. When she finally sank her teeth into the succulent beef, she said, “Oh, this is tasty!”
The others only mumbled a reply—they were too busy eating to talk.
“This is a great experience for me,” Eric said. “Thanks for inviting us, Joseph. Our leisure time is a lot different in Louisiana. No mountains there, but we lived near the river, so we did a lot of fishing and boating, and we had fried fish on our outings rather than grilled steak. My parents taught me to water-ski when I was a child. I miss that.”
“There’s waterskiing on some of our lakes. You’ll have to check that out,” Joseph said.
Kim and Eric helped pack the lunch utensils before they wandered away, hand in hand. Connie and Joseph sat silently for several minutes, and she knew he was uncomfortable because he squirmed on the hard rock. His face had lost much of the animation he’d displayed earlier in the day, and he stared blankly across the smooth blue waters of the lake that reflected the large stand of firs on the opposite bank.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Connie said, smiling at him.
He leaned back against the maple tree and reached for Connie’s hand. She moved closer to him, and he put an arm around her shoulders, and even that mere contact brought a ripple of pleasure. How much longer would she be content to be Joseph’s friend? She liked his brotherly touches, and she had no one to blame except herself that he’d limited his more emotional caresses.
“I doubt they’re worth a penny, but I can’t stop thinking about the events leading up to Virginia’s death. During the months I concentrated on recovering, I deliberately avoided thinking about that mystery, but now that we’ve started looking into the matter, it’s constantly on my mind.”
“Joseph, I don’t like to dwell on what-ifs, but the more I try to learn something, the more I realize that there are very few clues to follow. How long do you expect to search? What will happen if you can’t prove anything at all?”
He shook his head. “It won’t surprise me if the police decide to arrest me on suspicion. They may have been biding their time until I was out of rehab. If I’m taken before a jury without any more proof than I have, I could be found guilty and possibly be sent to prison.”
“Joseph!”
“It’s scary, isn’t it? I probably wouldn’t be housed with hardened criminals, perhaps I’d be put in a medium-security prison. But even that would be terrible, especi
ally when I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Joseph behind bars where he couldn’t enjoy the freedom of riding the range! Connie had to fight off a feeling of hatred for the Perrys whose actions had put this man under suspicion—Virginia, who’d written the incriminating letter, and George, who’d believed she was writing about Joseph.
“Then we must work even harder to prove your innocence. There has to be evidence somewhere.”
Joseph tugged gently on her hair and leaned over to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for being on my side.”
“I’m not the only One. Remember the promise that ‘if God is for us, who can be against us.’ You aren’t the first of His followers who’ve been brought before magistrates.”
“That’s true, but I also know that some of those followers have been thrown to the lions. I’m no better than the early Christian martyrs, so I’ll have to take what comes.”
Connie gently swatted his arm. “Stop those gloomy thoughts! Be more optimistic!”
“I’ll try,” he said penitently. “But it’s easy to be pessimistic when your life is on hold. I can’t make any plans until I know what my immediate future holds. You understand that, don’t you?”
She assumed he meant future plans concerning her. “I’m not sure I do understand your attitude about the future. The future is always uncertain—we never know what tomorrow will bring.”
He grinned. “Dad used to say the only thing certain about the future is death and taxes.”
“Death is not uncertain when you’re ready to go to Heaven and spend eternity with God!”
“I know,” Joseph agreed. “I spoke about earthly things.” He squirmed uncomfortably, and continued, “My leg has had enough of this hard rock,” and he stood, pulling Connie up beside him and into his arms. She lifted a hand, and her fingers pulled gently at his ear, and traced the outline of his cheeks and mouth. Joseph caught her hand and nibbled on her fingers. Their kiss was long, and they didn’t break the embrace until they heard Kim and Eric returning.
Although Joseph was aware that Connie was now more than willing to accept his caresses, he exercised restraint in their physical encounters. He wouldn’t promise Connie more than he was able to give. Her reactions to the ranch had been positive, and he believed she could easily fit into his rural lifestyle, but until he was able to prove his innocence, he wouldn’t make any move to further their romance. Always when he thought of marrying Connie, he remembered Virginia, their storybook wedding and first year of marriage. Would a union with her also grow sour, or would theirs last forever? As hard as it was to appear indifferent to the possibility of the love she could offer, he couldn’t speak his mind.
Their conversation further convinced Connie that unless Joseph could be completely exonerated in the events surrounding the death of his wife, there was no future for the two of them. And the more she looked into the situation, the more she concluded that it was unlikely that Joseph could be freed from suspicion. So should she just stop longing for Joseph? Rationally thinking, that seemed the right thing to do, but she found it difficult to think sanely when she was dealing with her heart. And she couldn’t help wonder if Joseph’s hesitance didn’t stem from his memories of Virginia, rather than from the crime hanging over his head.
Kim and Jean insisted that they’d help pack Virginia’s clothes, so that evening, while Eric and Joseph watched a golf match on television, the three women went into Virginia’s room and started the grim task. While the others had been picnicking, Jean had gone into town and purchased a large supply of cartons. A hint of oriental fragrance permeated the room as they worked.
In a low voice, Jean said, “I can’t tell you what a relief it is to get these items out of the house. I wanted to do it before Joseph was released from the hospital, but he objected. I feared he’d make a shrine out of this room and would never change it.”
“Did he love Virginia deeply?” Kim asked, and Connie was sure her friend had posed the question because she thought Connie wanted to know.
“Yes, he did,” Jean said, “and I’ve never understood why. Virginia was the clinging-vine type, and they were mismatched. She’d hated the ranch, but at least Joseph had enough backbone not to sell out and move into town as she wanted to.”
“Do you have any idea what happened here the night she died?” Connie asked.
“Virginia must have been drunk, lost her balance, fallen, and hit her head on that bronze sculpture by the fireplace in the main room. Whether that caused her death, I haven’t a clue, but it could have happened that way.”
“When did she start drinking?”
“Before she met Joseph, I’m sure, and she must have hid the habit from him, or he wouldn’t have married her, unless he thought he could reform her. After three years of marriage, she left him, and I figured he would divorce her then, but she asked to come back, so he let her.”
Taking a short mink coat from its wrapping, Connie said, “I told Joseph that I’d take these clothes to our church for resale to needy families—such nice garments will be greatly appreciated, I’m sure.”
“I wanted to take them to the charity bazaar at the local hospital,” Jean said, “but Joseph didn’t want them sold locally.” Running her fingers over the smooth fur of the coat, Jean continued, “Joseph didn’t have the money to buy clothes like these, but Virginia’s father still gave her a monthly allowance even after they were married, and she’d go to New York on a spending spree every year. Virginia might have been more satisfied here if she would have lived on Joseph’s income.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But all that’s in the past. I’m not one to dwell on what might have been.”
Is Joseph longing for the past and what might have been? Connie wondered, but her heart didn’t really want to know.
“Most of these are winter clothing,” Kim said as she held up a red woolen suit. “Did she have other clothes?”
“Of course she did! I hadn’t thought of that,” Jean said. “She didn’t have enough space in her closets, so Virginia kept seasonal items in her room and stored the others in the attic. They’ll be packed in bags or chests, so I’ll send them along, too.”
They left the ranch Sunday in midafternoon with promises from Joseph and Jean to be at NLC in two weeks for the wedding of Kim and Eric.
Two weeks! Connie thought that was a long time not to see Joseph, and he must have thought so, too, for the next Thursday, he appeared at her office door about noon.
“Hello!” she said. “What brings you our way?”
“I had a business meeting in Denver, and I brought those cartons of clothing along. It didn’t seem appropriate to bring them on Kim’s wedding day.”
“You’re right,” she said. Connie closed the client’s progress file she’d been reviewing and put it in a desk drawer. “If you’ll bring your truck to the rear door of this building, I’ll help you carry the boxes into a storeroom.”
“Have you made any progress with your detective work?”
“Very little. I’ve sent queries to a dozen newspapers, asking them to search their files, and I printed the caption under the picture, hoping someone will remember the incident. I offered a reward of fifty dollars to anyone who sends any information. Nothing, so far, but I’ll keep searching. The key to the mystery may be in that photo.”
“Keep track of any expense you have, and I’ll pay it.”
“There’s been no expense yet.”
It was almost time for lunch when they had the boxes unloaded, and Connie suggested, “Why not have lunch with us? The staff and patients will be happy to see you.”
“Thanks,” he drawled. “I hoped you’d ask. I want to talk to Rose, anyway.”
Connie and Joseph lingered in the cafeteria until everyone left, and Connie asked Rose to sit in on a conference with them. They chose a table in the corner farthest from the kitchen so they wouldn’t be overheard.
“Rose,” Joseph started, “I had nothing to do with the death of my wife, and now that I’
m on my feet again, I’m trying to prove it. The police are so convinced that I’m implicated that they’ve stopped looking any further. Connie has agreed to help me, and I hope I can count on you.”
“Lands, Mr. Caldwell, it never occurred to me that you were responsible,” Rose said, laying a plump hand on his shoulder. “But I don’t know what I can do.”
“You’ve already helped by producing that newspaper clipping. Do you have any idea where you got it?”
Rose shook her head. “I don’t remember seeing it until a couple of weeks ago when I was looking for that pie recipe. You see, a few months after Mr. Perry died, George and his wife, Stephanie, moved into the house. She wanted to bring the household staff from her own home, so there was no place for me, but George told me to take anything from the kitchen I wanted to. I’m a great one to cut recipes out of magazines, and I had a basket full of them in my room. I put all of the clippings in a box, intending to sort them out when I got the time. Maybe when I was cutting out a recipe, that clipping fell into the basket, but I don’t know.”
“There isn’t a recipe on the back of it,” Connie said, “for I checked that right away. The other side had nothing on it to pinpoint the date or the location of the newspaper.”
“Would anyone else have had access to the basket where you kept the recipes?” Joseph asked.
“I kept the basket on a shelf in the kitchen. Anyone could have found it if they wanted to.”
“Did Mrs. Perry sometimes bring you recipes—suggestions of what she wanted you to prepare?” Connie asked.
Rose’s eyes brightened. “No, but Virginia did. That time she left you and came home for several months, Mr. Caldwell, she considered herself the lady of the house, and quite often she’d study gourmet magazines and bring me a menu she wanted served when she entertained her friends.”
