“Sorry about your loss, Mrs. Krause,” he said in a gentle voice while guiding her toward the rocking chair. “Can you explain to me the course of events tonight?”
Joseph paced the room impatiently as Hannah related the same story she’d told him earlier. When she’d finished, he halted at the sheriff’s side.
“Well?”
“Well what, Joseph?” Sheriff Winter asked.
“Aren’t you going to do something?”
The sheriff shrugged. “Not much to do until the coroner gets here. Then we’ll look things over, and ask some more questions . . .” He paused. “I do have one more question for you, Mrs. Krause,” he said, crossing to the kitchen table. He picked up the object lying there and held it up.
Dried blood crusted the pointed blade and Joseph shuddered.
“Do you recognize this?” Sheriff Winter asked.
“No,” Hannah replied with a shake of her head. “It’s not mine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, my kitchen knives all have wood handles and that one has a carved silver handle.” Rising, she crossed the kitchen to a set of drawers and opened one of them. In a moment, she turned and held up a knife. “This is mine.”
Joseph watched her as she gripped the knife tightly and held it aloft. Light glinted off its sharp blade. How many times had he watched her drive that keen point into the carcass of a chicken and split it down the middle? How much easier would it be to thrust a knife with a similar blade into the back of her sleeping husband?
Chapter 5
Summer 2012, the Krause family farm
Kate stumbled out of bed the next morning. Her head felt too big for her body. Instinctively her hand drifted toward her stomach. Lack of sleep was not good for the baby. A frown flitted across her face as her fingers rubbed her lower abdomen. In the last century, people believed scaring a pregnant woman could mark her unborn child, and God knows, she’d been afraid last night. Just thinking about that scream made her heart jump. She’d torn up the stairs and awakened her sleeping husband. A rabbit, he’d murmured into her ear as he pulled her into his arms. Who knew rabbits screamed? She shook her head and stood, shoving her arms into her robe. Sleep had eluded her long after Joe’s easy breathing filled the room. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind filled with the image of a poor bunny in the grip of a predator. She’d tossed and turned until finally falling asleep in the early hours of the morning.
Tightening the belt on her robe, she squared her shoulders. Buck up, she told herself firmly. This wasn’t the city. There’d be a lot of different sights and sounds, and if she wanted to fit in, she needed to learn how to adapt. She couldn’t go running to her husband every time she was faced with something strange.
Problem resolved, she made her way out of the bedroom and down the hall. At the top of the stairs, she paused. The smell of fried bacon and fresh coffee drifted up the stairwell and her stomach growled in response. At least there was one advantage to her mother-in-law staying with them . . . Breakfast.
As she approached the kitchen, she heard Joe’s chuckle and stopped.
“It was a rabbit, Ma,” he said, his voice filled with humor.
Trudy answered in a low voice, but Kate was too far away to make out her words. She took a few steps and stopped.
“Superstition and old family legends,” Joe said, the humor gone. “And I don’t want you filling Kate’s head with a bunch of nonsense.”
“I tell you, it’s a sign,” Trudy replied, her voice louder.
“Don’t be silly—”
Kate heard the clatter of something hitting the sink.
“Your grandmother heard that scream, and two months later, she received word that your uncle had been shot down over Vietnam.”
A chill tickled the back of Kate’s neck.
“Grandma was a flake. She wound up in the nursing home not knowing which way was up,” he shot back. “And according to Dad, she never mentioned that old tale until after Uncle Fred was killed.”
“I don’t care what you say. For over one hundred and forty years, people in this family—”
A chair scraped across the kitchen floor.
“Come on, Ma. Do you really believe some rabbit meeting its fate is a harbinger of doom?”
“My boy . . .” Trudy’s voice took on a tone Kate had not yet heard her use—soft, gentle, and full of love. “I raised you strong, and you’ve always made me proud. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”
“Ah, Ma,” Joe replied sheepishly, “I’ll be okay. Don’t fuss over those silly old stories.”
“I can’t help it. Your new wife—”
“Hey,” Joe cut her off, his voice teasing, “haven’t I always told you that you’re my best girl?”
Kate felt a stab of jealousy.
“Yes.”
“Look, Kate’s my wife—and I love her—but you’re my mother.” The teasing tone was gone and he sounded deadly serious. “You think I’m going to forget everything that you did for me growing up?”
“No.”
“You and Kate just try and get along, and everything will be fine. No more talk about that stupid legend, okay?”
Kate strained to hear Trudy’s low reply, but she was too far away.
“I’ve got to get going. When Kate gets up, tell her—”
No, he couldn’t leave before she had the chance to see him. Hurrying into the kitchen, Kate shoved the overheard conversation out of her mind.
“Good morning,” she said brightly and quickly crossed to where her husband stood at the counter. She stood on tiptoes and raised her face for a kiss. When Joe bussed the side of her cheek, her smile slipped.
Kate turned and greeted her mother-in-law.
Trudy’s eyebrows lifted in response and flicked a hand toward the table. Any softness she might have shown during her conversation with Joe had disappeared. “Have a seat. The bacon’s getting cold.”
Joe pulled out the chair for Kate and, once she was settled, looked first at his mother, then at Kate.
“I’m going into town,” he said, draining the last of his coffee. “I’m meeting Tom, then we’re driving over to the Rodman place to see if we can talk some sense into Ed.”
“Humph,” Trudy snorted, “that’ll be the day. He’s known all along that fence line was on our land. He’s not going to change it now.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that,” he said, smacking his cup on the counter. “One way or the other, he’s going to move that fence.”
Trudy placed a hand on his shoulder. “Be careful, son,” she said, her voice tinged with concern. “Ed Rodman’s been stubborn and ornery since the day he was born.”
“Don’t fret, Ma,” he said, removing her hand and squeezing it. “Ed’s not going to pull anything with the sheriff standing there—”
Kate shot out of her chair. “Wait—what’s this about a sheriff?”
“Now see what you did, Ma?” He shook his head. “You’ve upset Kate.” He released his mother’s hand and placed his on Kate’s shoulder, gently guiding her back to her chair. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart. I can handle Ed. Once he sees things my way, it’ll be fine.”
“But—But,” she stammered.
He smiled down at her as he patted her head. “I’ve got to run.” He shot a look at his mother. “Don’t work her too hard, Ma. Remember what I said and that Kate needs time to adjust.”
Trudy crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing.
“See you ladies at dinner.” Without a backward glance, he was out the door and gone. A moment later, Kate heard the rumble of a pickup pull down the drive.
Silence hung in the air as Kate stared down at the now-congealed eggs on her plate.
Trudy finally spoke. “You need to eat,” she said, pointing at the eggs.
Kate picked up her fork and moved the soggy mess around on her plate. This wasn’t how she pictured the first few days of her marria
ge: rabbits screaming in the night, a disapproving mother-in-law, and a vanishing husband. Tears threatened to fall from the corners of her eyes. Quickly, she brushed them away and forced herself to take a bite of the cold eggs. Their mushiness against her tongue made her stomach roll. She swallowed and pushed her plate away.
“Thanks, Trudy, but I’m really not hungry. Maybe later I’ll eat a piece of toast.”
Trudy eyed her belly. “Morning sickness, huh?”
Grateful for the excuse, Kate nodded. She stood and, after picking up her plate, crossed to the garbage can and scraped the eggs into it. Turning, she smiled. “I’ll help you with the dishes.”
Her mother-in-law waved her away. “I’ll do them. Why don’t you go back to bed? I heard you up roaming around last night.”
Kate’s lips quirked into a grin. Roaming was not the way to describe her movements last night. After hearing the rabbit scream, thundering would be more descriptive.
Placing her plate in the sink, Kate turned toward Trudy. “I’m sorry I made so much noise, but the scream that I heard frightened me. Did I wake you?”
Trudy’s gaze wandered around the kitchen. “No. I was awake. This house doesn’t always promote restful sleep.”
Kate drew back at the cryptic remark. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” She busied herself wiping off the counters and moving dishes over to the sink. “It’s an old house. Old houses creak and it can disturb a body, if you let it.” She shook the dishrag out over the sink. “I’d just ignore any night sounds, if I were you. It doesn’t pay to go wandering around in the dark.” She began stacking the dishes, but Kate interrupted her.
“Please, let me help you.”
“I think it would be better if you rested,” Trudy replied, keeping her back toward Kate.
“No, honestly . . . I want to help. I don’t want to spend the day in our bedroom waiting for Joe to come home. I’d be bored out of my mind.”
Trudy turned, her eyes narrowing. “You really want to help?”
Joe’s remark about them getting along flashed through her mind. She wasn’t going to be the one responsible for any rift.
“Yes, I’m a part of this family now. I want to do my share.”
Later that night in bed, Kate wished she had taken Trudy’s advice. Her ankles were swollen and her body ached in ways she’d never felt before. They’d cooked two big meals and, after each one, cleaned the kitchen until it gleamed. They also weeded the garden; swept and dusted the downstairs; and washed, folded, and ironed two large loads of laundry. Thinking of the latter, Kate grimaced. The woman ironed pillowcases, of all things. Didn’t she understand the meaning of permanent press? At supper, she’d caught the gleam in Trudy’s eye when she’d asked her if she’d ever “put up” sweet corn. That was Trudy’s plan for her tomorrow, and she couldn’t wait to see what it entailed. Kate’s vision of spending lazy summer days, swinging in a hammock, seemed foolish. There was too much work to be done.
But what Kate regretted most about the last twenty-four hours was the lack of time she’d spent with her new husband. Not counting the time they’d spent sleeping, they’d been together less than three hours, and those hours had included his mother. The only time they’d been alone was in the privacy of their bedroom—and when he’d wanted to make love, she hadn’t had the energy.
A bitter tear slipped down the side of her face. She wanted to be a good wife and make Joe happy, but the truth was she didn’t know how. If today was any indication, years of nothing but endless work stretched before her.
She dashed the tear away. No, that was unacceptable. She loved her husband and she loved her unborn child. She would create a life in this place and she wouldn’t allow it to be measured by the amount of work she accomplished each day. She’d find joy and she’d find happiness.
If Trudy thought to break her and make her feel that she wasn’t a fit wife for Joe, Kate would prove her wrong. She’d work harder, longer, faster until Trudy was forced to accept her. She’d had to deal with her grandmother for years, and if now she had to handle her mother-in-law, then so be it.
She would not fail.
Chapter 6
The next two weeks seemed like nothing more than unremitting work as Kate tried to carve out her place in her new family. She had learned to let Trudy handle the cooking. She’d attempted making one meal by herself and the results had been dried-out ham, overdone potatoes, and gravy the consistency of paste.
Joe had laughed and said he hadn’t married her for her cooking and to, please, in the future, let his mother teach her how to cook.
She had agreed with everything Trudy said and performed her assigned tasks exactly the way her mother-in-law expected. Finally, she felt Trudy’s grudging acceptance.
Joe was also pleased with her. She had acceded to his wishes and seen old Doc Adams, who had pronounced both her and the baby well. And she’d agreed to the prenatal vitamins. To her surprise, her energy level increased.
Another surprise—how much she enjoyed working in Trudy’s garden. There was something about being close to the earth that made her happy. Her arms tanned and strands of dark gold appeared in her brown hair from the hours spent in the sun. It also gave her a bond with her husband. When the rains didn’t come and each day was hotter than the last, he grew anxious over the crops wilting in the field and Kate fretted over the garden shriveling in the heat. The shared worries brought them closer.
She established a routine—rising every day before her husband and mother-in-law and using the time to wander the farmstead with coffee cup in hand. Kate was even close to achieving one of the wishes she’d made. On one of her morning strolls, she came across the ugliest cat she’d ever seen. An old yellow tom with golden eyes, he wore the scars of many battles and one ear was missing a piece, yet his lean body spoke of speed and toughness. The cat was a survivor. Fate had dumped him in the middle of nowhere and he’d made the best of it. Kate felt an immediate kinship.
Now every morning she brought him a treat that she’d filched from Trudy’s leftovers. At first he’d run, but as the days progressed, he accepted her presence and the treat as long as she stayed by the old maple. Delighted that Trudy and Joe were unaware of her rendezvous with the old tomcat, she adopted him as hers and looked forward to the day when she had finally earned his trust and could touch him.
This morning after clearing the breakfast dishes, Trudy caught her off guard.
“We’re going to town,” Trudy said abruptly.
“Why?”
“Groceries,” Trudy said, folding a dish towel and placing it neatly on the counter. “Joe has decided you’ve been working too hard and that it’s time for you to meet our neighbors. We’re having a barbecue on Saturday night.”
Kate fought the urge to hug her. “A party!”
“No, a simple barbeque.”
“Great,” she said, grabbing her cell phone off the kitchen counter.
“What are you doing?” Trudy asked, her voice heavy with suspicion.
“I’m texting my girlfriend Lindsay. It’s short notice,” she said, her fingers flying across the keyboard, “but maybe she can come up for the party, err, excuse me, barbecue, then stay the weekend. It would be wonderful to see—”
Trudy’s hand suddenly covered hers. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“This get-together is for the neighbors. We don’t want to include a bunch of outsiders.”
“But Lindsay is one of my oldest friends,” Kate argued.
“And she would be uncomfortable thrust into the middle of a group of strangers.”
“No, she wouldn’t. Lindsay loves—”
“I said it’s not a good idea,” she reiterated. “You want to fit in around here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Kate mumbled.
“Well then.” Trudy gave a satisfied nod. “You need to make new friends and not cling to your old life and old friends. And it would please Joe if you did.”
Trudy smiled, then let her attention wander the kitchen. “We’ve got a lot of work to do between now and then. This house is filthy.”
From behind Trudy’s back, Kate rolled her eyes. They dusted and swept every day. Filth wouldn’t dare enter Trudy’s house.
Trudy’s fingers began ticking off the tasks. “Wax the floors; dust upstairs and down; wash windows—” She paused. “We’d better make a few pies in case no one brings any desserts. And I’ll make potato salad,” she added, her lip curling. “Megan Scott will bring hers, but mine’s better. Then—”
Kate didn’t wait to hear the rest of Trudy’s sentence. She ran upstairs and changed into a pair of Capris and a loose cotton shirt. After slipping on sandals, she grabbed the mascara out of her makeup bag and applied a couple of quick swipes to her eyelashes. Studying herself in the mirror, she frowned. How long had it been since she’d worn makeup? With a shake of her head, she twisted her hair into a loose topknot and secured it with bobby pins. One last glance in the mirror and she was out the door and down the stairs, where Trudy stood waiting for her.
She looked Kate up and down. “Why are you all dolled up?”
Kate’s hand plucked at her shirt. “I’m not,” she replied defensively. “I didn’t want to go to the store in my work clothes.”
Trudy lifted an eyebrow as she turned on her heel and left Kate standing at the bottom of the stairs. She rushed to follow.
The Widows of Braxton County Page 4
