Diamond Duo

by Marcia Gruver

  Once there, Sarah had no idea where to look. She relaxed the reins and let Dandy follow his nose. She hardly expected him to snuffle the ground for his master’s scent like old Dickens would’ve done before he led her straight to Henry. But she reckoned Dandy could put forth more effort than it took to follow the same route he trod every trip into town. She couldn’t rightly blame him. It did seem like just another trip to Stilley’s to trade skins. She closed her eyes and allowed herself the luxury of pretending it was.

  Her eyes flew open when a high-pitched squeal from nearby startled her. Dandy, too, by the way he flinched. She looked toward the grating sound and found it came from Charles Gouldy’s sister, Isabella, her face puffy and red, her hair a wild nest of tangles. A strange man, somebody’s husband no doubt, had Belle pressed against the wall in a nearby alley. Sarah wondered how much he had paid for a bit of time with her.

  Belle turned her painted face toward Sarah as she passed. Her eyes were glazed and her mouth a big red smear. She offered a brazen smile. “Afternoon, Sarah.”

  Embarrassed, Sarah turned away. Dandy passed up the alley just as the man pulled Belle deeper into the shadows. Sarah shuddered. For all her problems, she wouldn’t trade places with Isabella Gouldy if they threw in fame and fortune to sweeten the deal.

  Up ahead, Jennie Simpson stepped off Lafayette Street onto Polk, looking none too spry. She wore a stiff black dress and white apron, but the woman inside the dress had lost her starch. Doc Turner insisted all his help wear the same sort of clothes, except the men, who pranced around in black bow ties and knickers. Most likely Jennie had spent the morning changing beds and cleaning floors behind Doc Turner’s paying guests over at Brooks House.

  The thought of it caused guilt to twang in Sarah’s heart like a chord from a busted fiddle. She knew if not for Henry, she’d be a chambermaid at Brooks House, too. Or maybe the Commercial Hotel. She worked as hard as anyone, but when she smoothed fresh sheets on a bed, she and Henry slid between them that night. And when she wiped a table and served food, she got to sit right down and eat. For all of her trouble, Jennie Simpson got a bent back, calloused hands, and a pitiful, pinchpenny wage. Jennie was another poor soul with whom Sarah wouldn’t agree to trade fortunes.

  Since her man had given her so much in life, Sarah wondered why she seemed driven to throw it all away. And why she continued to hurt him. She sighed. All roads in her mind led right back to Henry. She wished the one Dandy trudged down now would do the same.

  Sarah rode up even with her friend just as she started to cross the street. “Afternoon, Jennie.”

  Jennie looked up at her with tired eyes. “Why, Sarah King, don’t I see you in town most every day of late? Ain’t you got enough at home for to keep you busy?”

  She waved her hand. “Pissh! Got me more’n enough, thank you kindly. Say, you ain’t seen Henry around anywhere, have you?”

  Jennie gazed all about as if she expected to see him then shook her head. “Naw,” she said, drawing the word out the length of Dandy’s ears. “Not since yesterday.” She scrunched her chubby face. “Don’t see how you managed to lose a man that size. Didn’t he ride in with you?”

  Sarah cleared her throat. “Not this time.”

  “Then how’d he get here?”

  Sarah avoided the question by standing up in the stirrups and making a show of searching the street. She’d be careful not to say anything more to set off Jennie’s curiosity. “Don’t fret yourself. I’ll find him.”

  Jennie opened her mouth to speak, but Sarah cut her off. “Girl, you look plumb tuckered. Are you finished for the day?”

  Jennie shook her head in exaggerated fashion. “Uh-uh, honey. Don’t I wish? I jus’ come to fetch a jar of molasses for Doc Turner’s tea. He swear by it as a restorative for the blood.” She rested the back of her hand on her hip. “S’pose I need some myself to get me through this day. When I get back, I still got me a mess of laundry and two more rooms to clean.”

  Sarah’s heart went out to her. “Sound like you gon’ be there most all night.”

  Jennie reached to stroke Dandy’s neck. The old mule’s coat trembled in pleasure at her touch. “Don’t know why I bother to drag myself to my room some nights, when I got to be back in the main house before sunrise to start all over again.”

  “Forget about molasses. What you need is a good tonic. Ride out to the house, and I’ll give you one made from blessed thistle. It’s the best thing there is for the droops.”

  Jennie’s eyes bulged. “You never said you practiced healing arts, Sarah.”

  “I know how to steep herbs and make remedies. Mama taught me. I have a store of them in fruit jars sealed with wax. Come by when you can, and I’ll give you some for what ails you.”

  Jennie smiled as brightly as if Sarah had offered to dole out redemption. “I’ll walk out in the morning a’fore I starts my day at Brooks.”

  Sarah nodded. “That’ll be just fine. I’ll look for you.”

  She glanced around again for Henry but caught no sign of him, so she turned her attention back to Jennie. “Doc Turner have a full house this week?”

  “Jus’ mostly the usual. The judge and a few more.”

  “Judge Armistead?”

  “Tha’s right. He staying a few days.” Her eyes grew wide. She pressed against Dandy’s side and motioned Sarah closer. “Honey, you ain’t seen nothing in your whole life like what done checked into number four upstairs.”

  Sarah leaned farther down. “Is that right?”

  Jennie rolled her eyes “Well, I ain’t never seen the like. Them two be a special breed of folk.”

  “Which two?”

  “Some highfalutin couple out of Boston, New York.”

  “Boston, New York?”

  “That’s what the gentleman say. I asked him where they come from, and he say, ‘We’s from Boston, New York.’ ”

  “I thought Boston was in Massachusetts State.”

  “I don’t know nothing ’cept what he tell me. The woman, she ain’t said much. Jus’ sat there and looked sorrowful. Saddest, most prettiest woman I ever laid eyes on. All done up in floozy clothes like a high-dollar coquette.”

  “I reckon I know just who you mean. She come into Stilley’s today with Magdalena Hayes and little Bertha.”

  “What you mean, ‘with’ them?”

  “I mean walking in just as big as you please, laughing and talking like long-lost friends. They left together, too.”

  Jennie clucked her tongue. “What they doing gallivanting about with the likes of her?”

  “I can’t say, but when they mamas get wind of it–and they will ’cause the whole town’s talking–mercy, the fur gon’ fly.”

  Jennie smiled. “The place I’m thinking of ain’t got no fur. Missy Hayes and Missy Biddie won’t sit to supper for a spell.” Jennie’s gaze left Sarah and fixed on something across the way. She raised her finger to point. “Looky there. I believe I found something what belongs to you.”

  Sarah’s heart lurched. She peered back over her shoulder to find Henry standing outside of Stilley’s. He gazed back at her, but she couldn’t read his mood. At the sight of his dear, familiar face, shame washed over her. She lowered her eyes.

  “Sarah King.”

  At the sound of her name, she jerked up and fixed her gaze on him.

  He motioned with his head. “Come on over here.”

  She nodded without saying a word and turned back to Jennie. “All right, then. We’ll see you in the morning. You take care, now, you hear?”

  “Tha’s right, you run on quick when yo’ man call. I don’t blame you none a’tall. I wish I had me a man to take care of me the way Henry do you.” She gave a hearty laugh that jiggled her broad bodice.

  Her words pricked Sarah’s conscience, but she hid her shame with a bright smile. “Get you some rest, Jennie. Lord knows you need it.”

  “No, ma’am, not till Sunday.” She had already turned to make her way up the street, so Sarah barely he
ard her last words. “I’ll get me some rest on the Sabbath, but not a minute before. Bye, now.”

  Sarah turned Dandy, which wasn’t hard to do now that he’d caught her husband’s scent, or maybe the smell of what Henry had stashed in the wrapped package tucked under his arm. When they pulled up beside Henry, his eyes swept her face, as if searching for traces of her spiteful anger. The realization cut Sarah through the middle, especially when his shoulders eased.

  They both knew what came next, and it embarrassed her. She would plead for his forgiveness. He would say she’d done nothing to forgive. She hated Henry’s tolerance the most. If he’d fuss, hurl accusations, even admit how badly she’d hurt him, and then forgive, she’d feel forgiven. . .instead of unworthy.

  Henry peered at the sky. “You shouldn’t be here. Get on home. It’s clouding up to rain.”

  “Ain’t you coming?”

  “I’ll be along directly.”

  She knew she should just go, obey him for once like she’d vowed on their wedding day. “I don’t want to go without you. I was so worried, Henry. You ain’t never just took off like that.” She pleaded with her eyes. “Can’t you go with me now?”

  He dipped his head and raised a finger toward the horizon. “Woman, them clouds are ripe. They ain’t gon’ hold off much longer.”

  “All the more reason for you to come now.”

  “Dandy’s back can’t hold us both, and you know it. Somebody be heading our way soon, and I’ll hitch a ride.”

  “We can take turns on Dandy. Better still, I’ll walk the whole way if you like. Since you already walked it once.”

  Henry sighed. The first sign of his dwindling patience. “Fine, Sarah. I guess I’d best go if I want any sleep tonight.”

  She cringed at the familiar sound of cross resignation in Henry’s voice. But it didn’t outweigh her relief. She needed her husband at home.

  Henry opened Dandy’s saddlebag and pushed the package he held deep inside. Then he took the reins from her and set off down the street leading the mule.

  Sarah watched his back with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Pain because of the wide sweaty blotch on his shirt, already dry at the edges, which meant he’d walked hard and fast into town despite the sultry heat. Pleasure because he’d agreed to return home with her.

  She glanced again at the white-rimmed stain. “Henry, come get up on Dandy. You’ve walked enough today. Your bunion must be throbbing.”

  He trudged ahead at a slow, steady pace. “That’s all right. I’m fine.”

  Sarah studied his feet but saw no sign of a limp. Still. . . “I don’t mind walking. Honest. I want to.”

  “I said no.”

  She bit her lip and focused her anxious energy elsewhere. “It’s coming up a mighty blow sure enough. From the north, too. There’ll be cold weather in behind it. I figured this heat couldn’t last.”

  Henry raised his head to the darkening sky and mumbled a reply, but she couldn’t make out his words.

  She tried again. “Guess I never will get used to the mixed-up weather in Texas. In St. Louis, you don’t see folks breaking a sweat in the middle of January. Most unreasonable thing I ever saw.”

  When Henry failed to respond, Sarah decided to hush. They made it a quarter mile in silence until curiosity won out over caution. “Say, what is it you got in this package back here?”

  “It’ll keep.”

  The tone of his voice said he’d abide no more questions on the subject, so she held her tongue. But whatever Henry had wrapped in paper and tied up with twine seemed to heat up inside the saddlebag and spread enough warmth through the bag to scorch Dandy’s fur, singe the leather saddle, and light a fire in her gut.

  She imagined every possibility, from the part Henry ordered for the plow to a new pair of trousers to replace his worn-out pair. He may have bought a bullwhip to keep his ornery wife in line. But knowing Henry, she doubted it.

  “Sarah?”

  She startled at Henry’s sudden, strident voice and all but toppled from Dandy’s back.

  Before she could answer, he continued without turning around. “I know you’ll want to talk things out like always. So if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather hash it out before we get home. I need myself some peace at the house.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, if it’s all right with you.”

  She winced at Henry’s guarded tone. It cast a shadow of condemnation squarely on her head. She’d heard Mama and her aunties whisper about a coarse, abusive wife who kept her husband on a short lead, carrying his dignity chained about her neck. Other husbands ridiculed such men and called them names behind their backs. The thought of herself as one of those women, of Henry as one of those men, made her blood run cold.

  “We don’t need to talk at all if you’d rather we didn’t.” Shame rendered her voice so low she wondered if Henry heard her at all.

  “No, Sarah, I’d rather get it over and done with. Go on and start.”

  She tried to comply but found she couldn’t speak. She knew her silence might anger him but found it hard to muster the will for a conversation her husband wanted over and done.

  Henry glanced over his shoulder. “Fine. If the cat got your tongue, I’ll start.”

  The words stunned Sarah. Henry King mostly kept his emotions dammed up tight. Getting him talking about his feelings generally took a three-day pout followed by two days of nagging. She guessed he must need peace at the house in the worst possible way.

  Henry cleared his throat. “When I left the house, I had no place in mind to go. Jus’ walked without thinking. When I come to myself, I seen I’d walked all the way to town, but I wasn’t even tired. Felt like I’d done sprouted wings and flew.”

  Henry put a hand back on Dandy’s nose to bring him to a stop and came around to stand at Sarah’s knee. He stared up at her without speaking at first then reached for her hands where they were clasped together over the saddle horn. “I looked up and saw I done walked a beeline to Stilley’s. Then I knew why I came to town.”

  In one quick move, Henry lifted Sarah down from the mule and stood her in front of him. He clung to her hands, and his eyes bored into hers with fierce emotion. “Today I set out to give you something special to show how I feel about you, and I intend to finish the task.” He let go of her hands and reached behind her into the saddlebag.

  When he came up with the package and handed it to her, Sarah frowned at him and then at the tied bundle. “What is this?”

  He stifled a grin. “If you open it, you might see.”

  She held his eyes for three heartbeats then got to work on the twine. Impatient with her slow and careful fingers, Henry reached to tear a hole in the paper. When Sarah lifted the other end, white fabric poured out and settled in his hands like woven snow. She jerked her eyes to her husband’s face. “What you got here, Henry King?”

  His familiar smile warmed her heart. “I ain’t completely daft. . .or blind neither. I seen the way you fingered those bolts at Stilley’s.”

  She wiped her palms on her skirt then held them up to receive the soft folds. Struggling to believe she really held it in her hands, she lifted the shimmering cloth in his direction. “Why would you buy me a gift after the way I treated you?”

  He wrinkled his brow and gave his head a little shake. “I ain’t stopped loving you, woman. I never will. No matter how you treat me.”

  She cringed and lowered her head. “Why’d you choose white?”

  Henry moved closer and cupped her face in his nimble hand. “I know you like all them bright colors. But I sure like to see you dressed in white.” He traced the line of her jaw with his finger then lifted her head with one knuckle. “It looks so nice against your skin.”

  His words reminded her of their conversation that morning, when he’d spoken of the first day they’d met at Lawetta Draper’s backyard social and the white dress she wore. From the yearning in his eyes, he remembered, too. He nodded at the cloth. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  Sh
e reached up on tiptoe and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Not one bit.” She opened the paper to tuck his gift inside but paused and rattled the package. “There’s something else down in here.” She tucked the fabric under her arm and then reached in and brought out a smaller parcel. She held it up. “Now what’s this?”

  Henry took it from her hand. “Almost forgot about that.” He tore it open to reveal a small chocolate block.

  Sarah squealed. “Candy, too?” She reached to grab it, but he held it just out of reach.

  “Uh, uh, uh. This one I bought for me.” He peeled back the clear wrapper and took a huge bite. Then he closed his eyes and threw his head back while he chewed and swallowed, his face a mask of pleasure. “Ooo-wheee! If that ain’t the best thing since pure sweet honey.”

  Sarah lunged and tugged at his upraised arm. “Stop, now. Give it here!”

  He laughed and backed away. She followed until she’d chased him in a wide circle around the mule. He finally stopped and turned.

  Still holding the candy far overhead, he pinched off the tiniest bite and pressed it into her mouth. “There,” he teased. “Now you know what you’re missing.”

  The small piece delivered a strong, delightful taste, reminiscent of the potent smell and taste in the back of her throat at Stilley’s. She wondered at what a full-sized bite would be like.

  “Don’t tease, Henry. It’s mean.”

  A strong gust of wind bore straight down on them from out of the treetops, followed by a distant clap of thunder. Dandy laid back his ears and shuffled his feet. Sarah felt a raindrop hit the top of her head.

  Henry looked to the sky then crossed to Dandy and held up the stirrup. “Climb up, Sarah. Let me get you home before your pretty cloth gets wet.”

  She rolled the paper around the fabric and hurried to his side. “Put it back in the saddlebag, quick.”

  He took the package from her and fastened it inside the leather bag then hoisted her into the saddle. He took up Dandy’s reins and they started up the path.