The Right Wife

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The Right Wife Page 13

by Beverly Barton


  “You have not been at the Colemans’ nursing that nigger gal,” Mathilda spit the words out as if they were contaminated. “You were gone off with Aaron Stone. God only knows where.”

  “And doing God only knows what,” Wesley said, his jowled face flushed with anger.

  Maggie had no idea how they had learned the truth, but she knew it meant her damnation. She had to think of some way out of this mess. She had lost Aaron, she could not lose everything else, too. “Please, Aunt Tilly, let me explain?”

  “How can you possibly explain such deplorable behavior?” the older woman asked. “Wesley has tried his best to defend your unladylike actions time and again, but even he cannot condone this.”

  “Please,” Maggie cried. “I didn’t . . . we didn’t . . .”

  “Have you no shame, girl?” Mathilda roared, her pudgy finger shaking in Maggie’s face. “You have disgraced us and humiliated poor Wesley.”

  “No, please. I haven’t,” Maggie told them.

  “To think that my son was considering the possibility of proposing marriage to you,” Tilly moaned, clutching at her heart. “What ever will Brother Osborne think when hears of this?”

  “But how . . . who?” Maggie wanted to know who had seen them and given away their secret.

  “I’m afraid I had to be the bearer of these sad tidings,” Eunice Arnold said, moving into view as Wesley and his mother moved aside to allow the handsomely attired widow to pass. “I felt it my Christian duty to let these good people know that they have a harlot living in their midst.”

  Maggie, stunned by the woman’s presence and venomous words, stood silently, trying to make sense of what was happening to her.

  “You see,” Eunice smirked, “the whore is no longer denying her sins.”

  “Don’t call my sister a whore!” Micah Campbell’s deep voice startled everyone.

  Maggie leaned on her brother as he came from behind to stand by her. “Jude?”

  “I made her stay in the kitchen,” Micah whispered, placing a strong arm about his sister’s shoulder. “We heard the shouting when we came in.”

  “You’ve thrown yourself at Aaron since the day you met him,” Eunice said. “I suspected the truth about you from the first when I caught you in Aaron’s room at the Parshall House.”

  “You’re jealous of Maggie,” Micah said. “You’re afraid you’re going to lose Mr. Stone. You’ve got sense enough to know any man would pick her over you if he had the chance.”

  “How dare you,” the widow gasped.

  “You are simply making matters worse,” Wesley told the boy. “Your sister’s own actions have condemned her.”

  “Maggie’s done nothing wrong,” Micah said.

  “Look at her,” Eunice said. “She looks well used.”

  Maggie could just imagine how she looked, her hair a mass of tangles, her dress rumpled and grass-stained. She stepped forward, her topaz eyes afire, the blood pounding through her veins as she realized the truth. “You are jealous. You think I’ve had what you so obviously want.”

  Eunice Arnold, in a very undignified manner, reached out and slapped Maggie squarely across the face. “You whore!”

  Without thought, acting simply on instinct, Maggie returned the slap full force, practically knocking her opponent to the floor.

  Staggering from the force of the stronger woman’s blow, Eunice screamed, “He only wanted to bed you as he would any whore. You mean nothing to him. Less than nothing. Aaron will marry me. He wants a lady for a wife, not some dirty farm girl who runs around in rags and spreads her legs for any man who wants her.”

  Maggie moved so quickly that she knocked Eunice to the floor and was on top of her before anyone realized what had happened. Unaccustomed to fighting, the elegant Mrs. Arnold found herself at a great disadvantage as her attacker began an onslaught of clawing, scratching, hair pulling and repeated slaps.

  “Dear Lord.” Mathilda swooned in a near faint, her son catching her swaying body. “Do something, Wesley, before Maggie kills her.”

  But Wesley did nothing except hold his mother, his silver eyes alive with some inner demon as he watched the two women struggling, a strange smile curling his lips when he saw a trickle of blood on Eunice’s lip.

  Micah grabbed his sister from behind and hauled her battling body off of her nearly unconscious rival. “Maggie. Maggie!”

  Gradually Maggie calmed, but trembled with anger and frustration and fear. It frightened her to think that she was capable of such hatred, that she could brutalize another human being. She hated Eunice Arnold, and, for a split second, had wished her dead.

  Wesley released his mother long enough to help a badly disheveled Eunice. Standing shakily, she glared at Maggie. “You’ll pay for this,” she warned as Wesley assisted her.

  “You pack your bags, girl,” Mathilda bellowed, her fat face splotched an unseemly pink and white. “I want you out of this house tonight!”

  “I’ll go,” Maggie said. “I’ll be glad to go.”

  “If Maggie goes, we go too.” Judith stood in the kitchen doorway, tears streaming down her face.

  “No,” Maggie cried. “You and Micah must stay. Aunt Tilly wouldn’t punish you for what I’ve done.”

  “The children can stay. They’re far better off under my care and away from your sinful influence,” Tilly informed them.

  Eunice turned and walked down the hall to the front door, stopping after she stepped onto the porch. “I can promise you that no decent person in this town will have anything to do with you after today.”

  “You go to hell!” The condemnation rumbled from Micah’s mouth.

  “If you leave, I’m going with you,” Jude whined, running into her sister’s arms.

  Maggie held Judith tightly, trying to soothe the child. “You and Micah have to stay here. Uncle Chester and Cousin Wesley can help Micah get some education and a job. And Aunt Tilly can help you become a lady.”

  “I won’t stay here without you,” the little girl cried. “I’ll go find Thayer Coleman. He’ll help us.”

  Judith pulled free of her sister’s hold and ran into the kitchen. When she heard the back door slam, Maggie issued an order. “Go after her, Micah, before she gets into trouble. I’ll go up and pack. We’ll talk when you get back.”

  “I’ll get her,” he said. “But when we get back, we’ll decide what to do as a family.”

  “All right. But for now, go find Jude.”

  Maggie walked past her open-mouthed aunt and a haughtily disapproving Wesley, rushing upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  She looked around the small room that she had come to love during the past month, her eyes lingering on the lock-stitch sewing machine sitting near the window, a piece of pink organdy lying on the treadle where it had fallen. One step at a time, Maggie moved about, looking and touching, trying to come to terms with leaving.

  Everything that had happened was her own fault. From the moment she looked into Aaron Stone’s green eyes, the world had faded away. Although she had been unwillingly attracted to him in Chattanooga, she had had the good sense to fight her feelings, but circumstances and her own lustful weaknesses had led her astray.

  She had destroyed all her hopes and dreams by acting impulsively. Micah and Jude would have to stay on with the Gowers even though their chances of having a good future were practically nonexistent, thanks to her stupidity. People would not soon forget that they had an older sister with the morals of an alley cat.

  Maggie had no idea where she would go or what she would do. She would be forced to use her meager savings to pay for a place to stay until she could find work. She wondered if Mrs. Mobley would be willing to help her find a position somewhere, but doubted if any lady would want to associate with her once the word of her downfall had spread through town. No doubt, the Widow Arnold would see to that.

  Just when she had begun to believe that she would be able to keep her promise to Pa, her whole world fell apart, leaving her
with nothing, and with no one to turn to.

  Aaron tried his best to keep up his side of the conversation with Eunice as Phineas drove them to the opera house for a performance by a traveling minstrel group, but his mind was on another woman, a woman whose tear-stained face was forever etched on his heart. He felt like a cad for the way he had treated her, although he had had no intention of seducing Maggie. He had wanted them to be friends, had hoped they could work together to overcome the unwanted attraction they had for one another. An experienced man like he was should have known how dangerous it could be to share a day alone together.

  Maggie Campbell’s red-haired beauty allured him to the point of madness. Just being near her made his body grow hard with need. If only he could react to Eunice like that. But the widow’s serene, blond loveliness left him cold. Surely, once they were married, and she allowed him a husband’s privileges, he would want her as passionately as he did his fiery farm girl.

  Phineas stopped the carriage directly in front of the two-story red-brick building that housed the local opera house on the upper level and the post office on the first floor. Light poured from the small-paned windows upstairs, and a group of young dandies had congregated on the white columned porch.

  Eunice, her slender hand reaching for Aaron’s, smiled down at the handsome man whose big body strained against the confinement of his dark blue suit as he helped her from the cabriolet, her peach satin dress shimmering in the soft lamplight. No sooner had Aaron assisted his date from the carriage than Thayer Coleman, dressed dapperly in a charcoal-gray frock coat and breeches, approached him.

  “Aaron.” His friend placed a hand on his shoulder.

  Eunice eyed the man suspiciously, her slender fingers tightened their grip on Aaron’s arm.

  “Well, good evening, Thayer,” Aaron greeted the other man. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. I thought you had other plans.”

  Aaron knew good and well that Thayer had intended to have a high old time at Loretta’s tonight, drinking, playing poker, and bedding one of the establishment’s soiled doves. He couldn’t imagine why the man was here unless he was deliberately trying to ruin the evening Aaron had planned with Eunice.

  “My plans were changed when little Miss Judith Campbell came strolling into Loretta’s with her big brother chasing after her,” Thayer said without a trace of humor.

  Aaron laughed. “My God, man, you’re irresistible even to babies.”

  “Aaron, dear, we’re going to miss the opening if we don’t hurry,” Eunice said. “I’m weary of hearing about that bunch of Tennessee trash Mathilda Gower took into her home.”

  “Eunice!” Aaron said. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve never heard you speak so unkindly about anyone.”

  “We need to talk. Now,” Thayer told the other man.

  “I will not stay and listen to this.” Eunice’s voice had become shrill with bitterness. “I see Cousin Edmond and his wife. I shall be with them when you care to join me.”

  With that said, Eunice walked away, the rustle of satin echoing in Aaron’s ears. “Eunice . . .”

  “Let her go for now,” Thayer said, nodding and smiling courteously in greeting to several friends as they passed the two men on the street corner. “We, my friend, have a problem.”

  “What the devil are you talking about?” Aaron was totally bewildered by Thayer’s unexpected presence as well as Eunice’s uncharacteristic behavior.

  “Jude and Micah are in my carriage across the street,” Thayer told his friend. “I’m taking them home with me for the night, but I thought you might want to know that your little excursion today is fast becoming public knowledge.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that?” Aaron asked, attracting the attention of a few bystanders.

  “Lower your voice, man,” Thayer said. “It seems that one of the Waites’ servants saw you and Maggie leaving town together this morning and rushed home to share the news with the other coloreds. Unfortunately, Eunice overheard the conversation and put two and two together.”

  “How could she know I spent the entire day with Maggie?”

  “It also seems that she stationed one of her papa’s men to watch the house for your return. She stayed at the Gower house where they all waited for word on your arrival,” Thayer said.

  “Eunice was at the Gowers’ when Maggie got home?” Aaron cringed at the thought of a confrontation between the two women.

  “It seems that Maggie was met by Eunice, her aunt Tilly, and the good reverend, and was given a sound tongue lashing.”

  “My God!” Aaron bellowed, again attracting attention. “Eunice never said a word to me about it.”

  “Then you are the only one. Half the good ladies in this town know that Maggie Campbell used her wicked body to seduce you, against your will. And then she proceeded to attack the Widow Arnold, both physically and verbally.”

  “The hell you say!”

  “You need to find Maggie and help her. Bring her back to my house.”

  “Find Maggie? Where is she?”

  “Her aunt sent her packing,” Thayer said, leading his friend across the street and away from any curious eyes. “Jude and Micah left home to find me and finally tracked me down at Loretta’s. When we went by the Gower place to get Maggie, her uncle said that she had taken her things and gone looking for her brother and sister, worried because they hadn’t come home.”

  “Didn’t Gower try to stop her?”

  “He wasn’t at home when she left. He was worried about his niece, but he admitted to me that he won’t be able to live with his wife if he lets Maggie stay on there.”

  “You take those children home with you,” Aaron instructed. “I’ll find Maggie.”

  Maggie was trying to hold back the tears that were slowly choking her. Tired, alone, and frightened for Jude and Micah’s safety, she had walked the dim streets of Tuscumbia at twilight. She had stopped at the Coleman house only to be told that her siblings had been by and had gone. Less than half an hour ago, she had checked her uncle’s store, hoping to find them there. She had walked up Main Street, past the opera house, remembering that Aaron would be there tonight with Eunice.

  Eunice Arnold had won. Maggie Campbell had lost. No! Not by all that was holy, Maggie decided. She would not give in to self-pity. Somehow, someway, she would get through this horrible night. Everything would be all right, if only she could find Micah and Judith. Where could they be?

  She paused in front of the three-story county courthouse and leaned against the fence enclosing the grounds. Finally allowing herself to cry, she prayed for help. Her sister and brother were innocent of any wrong. She and she alone was guilty of lusting after a man to the point that she had shamed herself and her family.

  “Maggie,” a male voice called out.

  Wiping the tears from her eyes, Maggie turned to face Wesley Peterson, who stood a few feet away.

  “What do you want, Wesley?” How had he found her? Had he been following her since she left his mother’s house hours ago? Why wasn’t he at the Brush Arbor meeting?

  “I’ve come to save your soul,” the good reverend said, walking slowly toward her.

  “Please, just leave me alone,” Maggie pleaded, turning away from her cousin.

  “You must come with me this very night to the meeting and confess your great sin publicly.” Wesley grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her soundly, his eyes frenzied, his voice quivering with saintly conviction.

  “No!” Maggie screamed. “Go away. Leave me be.”

  “You’ve given your virgin body in an act of sin,” Wesley railed, shaking Maggie repeatedly. “You must tell me, tell us all, how you allowed the devil to enter your body.”

  She pulled free, dumbstruck by the wild look in his silver eyes. When he reached for her again, she started running, Wesley following at a fast pace for a man so fat.

  Dear Lord in heaven, is he insane? She could not let him catch her. She refused to be hauled in front of this congregatio
n to be forced to repent of a wrong she hadn’t committed. She had allowed a man to kiss her, to fondle her, to look upon her naked breasts. Yes, she knew that she had sinned, but, for the life of her, she could not stop loving Aaron Stone, and perhaps that was the biggest sin of all, the one for which God would punish her.

  She continued running faster and faster, trying to get away from the tormenting sound of Wesley’s heavy footsteps and his loud ravings of sin and damnation. The worn leather of her shoes offered little protection from the hard ground, scattered with small rocks and rutted from wagon and carriage travel.

  After having put a distance of two blocks between them, Maggie crossed the street to the east side of town and stopped in front of the Deshler Female Institute. The light from the cloud-covered full moon made the square building visible, a dome-shaped bell tower dominating the brick structure.

  “Sinner!” Wesley preached. “I, the servant of the Lord Almighty, will purge you of evil.”

  Maggie shuddered at the sound of the man’s voice, fear enveloping her. A silent scream issued from her mouth just as she heard horses’ hooves and the cling-clang of an approaching carriage.

  “Maggie!” Aaron shouted, stopping the cabriolet.

  Wesley was almost upon her, his fleshy hands reaching out.

  She saw Aaron running toward her, his arms open. Without a thought, except to reach the safety of his strong arms, Maggie turned from Wesley and ran into Aaron’s comforting embrace.

  The two men exchanged glances as Aaron held a trembling, sobbing Maggie. His jade eyes issued a warning to the good reverend whose own cold eyes prophesied doom.

  “I’m here, Maggie,” Aaron said, picking her up in his big arms and carrying her to the carriage. “I’m here, love. I’m going to take care of you. Don’t cry.”

  “Oh, Aaron,” she said, weeping uncontrollably. “I . . . I’ve ruined . . . everything . . . all our lives.”

  “Hush, hush.” He kissed her forehead lightly. “It’s all my fault. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “I love you,” she said. “And that is wrong.”

 

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