by Mary May
I run over, hugging first Martha then Jesse. I wrap my arms tightly around him, feeling the familiar coolness of his skin. Tears fill my eyes when he squeezes his arms around me. “How did you find me? Where have you been? Why are you here? Why…”
Jesse chuckles and places his finger over my lips. “We have been here the whole time. We were brought back in that crazy tornado, too. We just didn’t know how being in the same place with our living selves would work, so we waited.”
I grin at both of them. I am just so stinking happy to see them! But then I frown fiercely at Jesse, crossing my arms over my chest. “I will admit that I really don’t care much for the living version of you. He is a giant jerk-o-saurus.”
He actually looks a tad bit shame-faced. “I know, Shelby. I wasn’t the nicest person, but you have to understand that I was raised in a different era than you. Men were expected to act a certain way and women, too. The me you know had two hundred plus years of thinking and growing to become the man I am now.”
Martha gets to her feet, walking over to lay her hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Shelby, don’t judge too harshly. Jesse was far nicer than a lot of men in his time.”
Giving Martha a look of disbelief, I ask. “Did dying give you memory problems? He treated you like a child most of the time.”
Martha laughs softly. “Oh no, Shelby. He truly didn’t. He treated me as something to be protected. I can see where you might think that was like being treated like a child, but I assure you that wasn’t Jesse’s intent.”
Well, clearly I am not going to win this argument. Besides, I don’t want to argue; I am so happy to have my friends back!
“Okay, so I agree with you that being in close proximity to your living counterparts is not a good idea.” I don’t think anyway. I mean honestly who really knows about this stuff for sure? Jesse goes over to the window and peeks carefully past the curtains.
“I see Eli is talking to Robert. Any idea what about?”
Oh, shoot! In my excitement at seeing Jesse and Martha again I have forgotten about Eli talking to Robert. As quickly as I can, I fill them in on what is going on. Martha frowns and, yes, even that is adorable.
“Robert asked you to the Spring Dance? Whatever for?” I’m sure Martha doesn’t mean the question the way it sounds, but I can’t stop my snarky reply.
“I’m sure I don’t know. Perhaps his insanity is showing up quicker than we thought. Maybe Jesse wasn’t entirely responsible.”
Martha actually gives me a hard look. “You know that’s not how meant that. Don’t be childish.”
I sigh, flouncing down on the bed. “I know. I don’t know why I’m being such a brat! I really am so happy to see both of you and I have been acting like a total donkey. I’m sorry.”
Martha’s face softens as she sits down next to me. “It’s all forgiven. I know you have been through a really terrible ordeal. I can only imagine how you must feel. I know that Jesse and I were tossed back in time as well, but being that we are shall we say… ‘living impaired’… the impact isn’t as great as it is for you and Eli, not to mention this was our time, so it’s all familiar to us.”
I nod my head as a tear traces down my cheek. “I have no idea what is happening back home. If mom and Josie are looking for me, maybe thinking I’m dead, or if I never existed at all for them. If you really think about it long enough, you will go bonkers!” Martha doesn’t say anything. She pulls me into a warm hug, letting me cry it out much like her living version did at the creek. I sniffle for a moment; then I pull out of her arms. “You, on the other hand, are exactly the same as the living Martha. You are too sweet, and I kind of have to hate on you just a little bit.” We erupt into giggles, hugging each other once more.
“Yeah, I hate to interrupt your giggle session, but I hear footsteps headed this way. Martha, we had better vanish.” He has no more spoken the words when they both poof out of sight. I hear a soft rap on my door. I walk over, asking who it is.
“It’s me, Miss Cher.” I open the door to find Bruce standing there. I smile at him until I notice what he is holding. “That’s my clothing! What are you doing with it?”
CHAPTER 9
Bruce stands there holding my bag in one hand and my sweater in the other. “I’m sorry, Cher. I know it’s bad manners to snoop, but I had a feeling that something was going on with the two of you. I didn’t find anything in Sonny’s room, so I looked through yours.” He looked at my sweater for a moment. “I ain’t never seen a material like this; what is it?” I drag him into my room, closing the door behind me. I need to see just what, if anything, he has figured out.
“Ok, so you found our clothing. I guess we might as well tell you that we are from a different country.” I wait to see what his reply to that big lie is. The fact that I’m able to come up with it on the fly doesn’t exactly sit well with me. The last thing I ever want to be is an accomplished liar. Frowning, he shoves his hat further back on his head. If he wasn’t Robert’s twin brother, and if I wasn’t currently stuck in the ginormous mess that I am in, he would really be cute right now. But he is and I am, so I have no time for anyone to be looking cute. Especially when he could blow our very thin cover.
“You’re from a different country?” he asks.
I actually feel like kicking myself for not coming up with this story sooner. It might actually work! I walk over to the window and casually glance outside to see if Eli is still talking with Robert and to make sure nothing awful is happening. I see them both standing near the corral and no one seems overly upset, so I guess everything is cool for now on that end. I turn back to Bruce to find him watching me closely. For just a brief moment he has a hard calculating look on his face, but it is gone so quickly that I almost question if I saw it at all.
“What country are you from?”
I said the first one that came to mind. “France.”
Bruce looks down at my sweater, turning it over and over in his hands. “France? I had a teacher once from France and she had a real funny way of talking.” He looks up at me. “You don’t sound nothing like her.”
I reach over and snatch my sweater out of his hands. “Maybe I didn’t live there very long. Did you think of that? Maybe I lived here for most of my life and only lived in France briefly.” He folds his arms across his stomach, crossing his booted feet at the ankles as he leans against the wall.
“So did you?” he asks.
I frown up at him. “Did I what?”
“Did you only live in France for a short time?”
My frown turns into a scowl. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
He shakes his head. “No, ma’am, you said that maybe you did. I’m asking if that was what happened.”
I have no other choice but to go along with the story that my big mouth just
made up. “Yes. That’s what happened.”
Bruce nods his head and I have feeling that the other shoe is about to drop.
“How long did you live there?”
Yup, there was that blasted shoe! “Maybe a year?” I answer hesitantly.
He smiles at me. “Well, now, are you asking me or telling me?”
“Yes! Ok? It was nearly a year then we moved back.”
“Why did you move there?”
“To visit a family member.”
“Who?”
“My…aunt?”
“Are you asking or telling again?”
“I’m telling! It was definitely my aunt.”
“On whose side?”
I stare at him blankly. “What?”
“Was it your ma’s sister or your pa’s sister?”
“My mom’s…I mean…my ma’s.”
Bruce chuckles again, shaking his head at me. “Alright Miss Cher, I’m going to
leave now. Here are your belongings. Again my apologies for trifflin.” He tips his hat at me then goes out the door leaving me staring after him.
“Well, if that doesn’t convince him that we are lying thro
ugh our teeth,
nothing will.” I turn back to see Jesse and Martha looking at me. “Do you think he bought that story?” I ask hopefully. Jesse scoffs.
“Not a chance, Shelby.”
I hurry out of the house, trying to move as quickly as possible without appearing desperate. I need to let Eli know about the Bruce situation as well as the Jesse and Martha situation. Everything is falling apart! As I approach the barn, I hear Eli explaining to Robert the reason we don’t look like siblings. I wonder what they have been talking about all this time to just now be getting around to that topic. Pressing my body close to the barn wall, I try to peek inside through the cracks between the boards. I can see Robert and enough of Eli to see that he is smiling and trying to be convincing. I don’t think Robert is buying it. When he smiles that smirky smile that I have come to truly loathe, I know he isn’t buying it. I have to get Eli out of there! Without waiting for my brain to catch up with my feet, I hurry into the barn. Eli gives me a “What are you doing?” look. I smile with what I hope is a clueless expression.
“Mr. Mitchell, do you mind if I steal my brother for just a minute?”
Blinking my eyes rapidly, I try my hand at the art of feminine persuasion. Robert frowns at me before reaching into his side pocket and pulling out a handkerchief.
“Is something in your eye, Miss Bono?” I snatch the white square of linen from his outstretched hand.
“Yes, some dust, I think. Thank you.” I dab at my eyes before handing it back to him. I forget the girlie method and just shoot from the hip.
“I need to speak to Eli for a moment, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. He was just explaining the reason that you don’t look anything alike. I must admit that one of you being adopted didn’t occur to me. So, please accept my apologies.” Then with a tip of his hat he walks out, leaving us alone. I watch until I see him enter the house; then I tell Eli everything. His reaction is much like mine. He looks around the barn as if expecting the ghostly Jesse and Martha to appear. When they don’t, he finally says something.
“This isn’t good…not good at all,” he grumbles.
“So, now what? We can’t stay here, Eli. It’s too risky.”
He flips a bucket over and sits down on it. “I know! Give me a minute to think here, Shelby.”
I sigh as I walk around the barn. It looks nothing like my barn back home, which makes me wonder when it was built. I know it had to be after Jesse’s death. That thought brings me right back to our current situation.
“Ok, so realistically speaking, how much can they possibly learn from our clothing? I mean my shirt and jeans and your sweater and jeans -- are they really that different from clothing from this time?” he muses out loud. I figure now is as good a time as any to tell Eli about the other situation. Looking down at the floor, I tell Eli the story I told Bruce about being from another country. He looks at me with an arched brow.
“Do you think he believed it?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Would you?”
Eli laughs out loud, shaking his head.
I frown at him. “What could you possibly find amusing right now?”
Shaking his head, he gets up. “You. You are always a source of amusement for me. The way your mind works fascinates me. Whatever you think…you say.”
“I most certainly do not!”
Arching an eyebrow, he disputes my objection with a look.
“Well, not all the time. I actually keep a lot of thoughts to myself.”
That statement makes him laugh out loud. “Oh, Shelby, it doesn’t matter whether you say it or not. Your face gives you away every time! Do not allow Bruce to talk you into a hand of poker.”
“Poker? Why would he ask me to do that?” I ask.
“Well, Robert may be the business man of the family, but Bruce is the gambler. According to him, he is a professional poker player and again, according to him, he does fairly well at it.”
That surprises me! “Not to be mean, but from what I have seen from Bruce he doesn’t come across as the smartest pup in the box.”
Eli chuckles once more. “Yeah, I know what you mean, but he is a lot more intelligent than he lets on. I think he plays up the slow-witted cowboy angle to sucker people into playing cards with him. Trust me, Bruce is no dummy. He knows more than he lets on and he sees more than you think.” I remember the look that I saw earlier on Bruce’s face and I have to agree with Eli…there is more to Bruce Dale Mitchell than one would think.
“Ok, so we have to assume that Bruce is at least somewhat on to us. He may not know the entire story, but he knows enough to be a problem. He will keep snooping until he uncovers the truth and then what?”
Eli paces the length of the barn. I can tell by the intense look on his face that all of his gears are spinning. I stay quiet to give him a chance to think. Finally, he stops pacing and looks at me. “Do you think Bruce is the same as his brother?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“What kind of person do you think Bruce is? Do you think he is like Robert?”
I shake my head. “I don’t really know. You know as much about him as I do. What do you think?”
Eli sits back down on the bucket. “I don’t think he is anything like Robert. Now, I may be wrong, but I get a feeling that Bruce just wasn’t born with the same mean streak as his twin.” I nod my head and wait for Eli to finish up his train of thought because I have no clue where he is going with this.
“I think we should tell Bruce the truth.” And just like that Eli once more loses me at the take off.
“Huh? You mean the truth…truth? Like the real truth?”
“There is only one truth, Shelby.” I look at him like he has lost his mind.
“Why would we do that? I thought the whole point was to keep people from knowing the truth as much as possible. I don’t understand why you would want to tell him anything. He is Robert’s twin, for crying out loud!”
“I have not forgotten that fact, but I think that unlike most twins, there isn’t a lot of love lost between those two. Bruce isn’t going to stop looking into our story. I’m thinking that if we bring him in on it, we can turn a possible problem into an asset.”
I feel my headache returning with a vengeance. “I don’t know, Eli. I really think we should talk to Jesse and Martha about this. Jesse will be able to tell us more about Bruce.”
Eli nods in agreement. “The only problem with that is they are in town.”
“Actually only the living version is in town.”
We both look up when we hear Jesse’s voice. Eli jumps up and gives Jesse a hard look. “Nice of you to finally join us. What did you do, take the scenic route?”
Jesse’s face darkens and I know there is fixing to be trouble. “Eli, just calm down. They showed up as soon as they could. They had to be careful not to be in the same area as their living selves. Because…well… weird stuff could happen.” When all three give me a look, I quickly amend my statement. “Ok! More weird stuff could happen. You know what I mean.”
Eli nods his head, giving Jesse and Martha an apologetic look. “You’re right. As strange as this is for us, it has to be even stranger for you two. At least we don’t have to worry about running into ourselves. I’m sorry.” Reaching out he holds out his hand to Jesse as a peace offering. Jesse takes it then asks about Bruce.
“We know he is snooping and in spite of Shelby’s brilliant cover story. . .” he pauses to give me a long look. I mouth “Bite me” in a silent reply. “We don’t really think he will stop looking. So, we thought maybe you could tell us more about him. What kind of guy is he?” Before Martha can answer, I ask another question.
“Okay, this is off topic, but what happened to the other brother? Eddie’s dad?”
“He died from an infection. He had cut his leg badly chopping wood and it went septic. I didn’t really know him and the Mitchells rarely spoke of him. Little Eddie was over at the house a few times, but according to Bruce
the sight of the young boy caused his mother heartache, for he was the spitting image of his dad,” Martha replies.
“So nothing was suspected about that death?”
Martha shakes her head at Eli’s question. “No, it was all very tragic, but it was simply an accident.”
“To answer your earlier question, I never had any problem with Bruce. He was always real nice to me. But to be honest, after Robert and I wed, he wasn’t in the picture for very long.”
I frown at Martha. “Why not? Did he get sick of Robert’s awful behavior?”
She shakes her head. “Bruce was murdered less than six months after Jesse was.”
The room was filled with an eerie silence. I know the same question that was running through my mind was running through Eli’s. I got the go-ahead to ask it when he nodded slightly.
“Who killed him?”
Martha shakes her head once more. “It was eventually pinned on a man named Cletus Westbrook. But we all knew that was a lie.”
“Why was that?” Eli questions.
“Because Bruce and Cletus were friends. The story was they had been playing poker at the saloon. Cletus lost; then according to rumor, he and Bruce said some cross words to one another before Cletus left. Later that night Bruce was shot in the back behind the saloon.”
“Why do you think it was someone besides Cletus? Even friends have been known to get real upset over money,” Eli points out.
“Because everyone knew that Bruce beat Cletus every time they played together, and Cletus never lost much because he didn’t bet a lot. Bruce played with him mostly to teach him to be a better player. Cletus was a tad slow, very sweet but slow. He would never have hurt anyone, much less kill them, and the last person he would ever harm was Bruce. He was the only friend he had.”
“Well, that doesn’t make any sense. Did someone say they saw Cletus do it? How did he get framed?” I ask. The look that Martha gives me sends chills down my spine and I know I’m not going to like the answer.
