What killed part of her was that Gerty wasn’t wrong. Mary was living with two men with another due home any time. She slept with them both, had sex with them both, and treated them like her husbands. She was breaking the polygamy laws and didn’t have the faith of her mothers to back it up. At least they had a reason. All she had was lust.
Sobs broke free. The townspeople looked down upon her. Her mother-in-law wished she was dead. Her own family wouldn’t speak to her. She couldn’t have known the trade-off would hurt so much.
The door opened and Paul walked in, the grin on his face wider than she’d ever seen. That morning he’d been stressed and busy with hay to deliver—he should have been gone most of the day. She wiped away tears, wishing for privacy to deal with this latest blow.
He froze when he caught sight of her. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you hurt?”
Mary shook her head, the tears blocking her words. She rested her face in her arms and let loose the torrent of sadness. She’d known things would be difficult, harder than she’d ever known, but everything so quickly and so intense…it broke her.
Strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her off the chair. “Mary, what’s wrong? Talk to me, sweetheart.”
“Everyone hates me,” she said through her sobs, letting go of all ideas of being strong. “Gerty slapped me, and my mother didn’t answer the phone last time I called. Some disgusting man propositioned me, and your mother… I hate this.”
Paul ran his fingers through her hair as she dissolved into tears again. Being strong had gotten her nowhere. Ignoring the ugly faces hadn’t made them go away, and they’d only gotten louder.
“I’m really sorry you’re having a bad day.” Paul kissed her cheek. “How about I make you dinner? You can lie down and have a nice rest.”
She pushed to her feet. “A bad day? How can you trivialize how horrible things have been by calling it a ‘bad day’? Your mother set Thomas up on a date and he went on it, and I couldn’t argue because I asked him to keep things quiet. Then Walter—everyone knows and everyone talks. Some man propositioned me, and Gerty hit me…and your mother… We’ve been married a matter of weeks—weeks!—and it’s blown to hell. I can’t even pretend to be happy. Not anymore.”
He stood, confusion in his expression. “But you’re not unhappy.”
Mary rolled her eyes, anger quickly replacing the despondence she’d felt moments before. “I just said I’m not happy. I told you why and you say I’m ‘not unhappy’? What part of I’m not happy don’t you understand?”
Paul walked to the tiny kitchen sink. He washed his hands and grabbed a glass of water. She wanted to throttle him. He didn’t understand what she struggled with and he wasn’t even trying. Ignoring the issues wouldn’t make them go away. He dried his hands and looked at her for a long minute. Mary met his eyes, and even her anger started to calm in the wake of his confusion and hurt.
“If you’re really unhappy and this isn’t just a bad stretch then you’ll cut your losses and go find something or someone who will make you happy. I couldn’t ask you to stay if you’re truly miserable. I know Thomas and Duane would feel the same.”
His throat worked as he swallowed several times. Mary sighed and sat at the table. She wanted to tell him not to be silly, that she loved him and Thomas, because she did, but after everything hit the fan, she’d realized how alone she was in Montana. The fault wasn’t in the Parabys, but in her. She wanted to say she could tough out the insults and fear, but she didn’t know. Paul joined her at the table, taking the seat across from her. His warm hands wrapped around hers. She looked up, nearly sick with her stomach turning in misery.
“Or, we could fight this and find a way to be at peace with the things around us,” Paul said. “Thomas and I noticed you haven’t made many friends and I’m sorry. It’s going to take a while for people to open up, especially after this, but that means we’ll be more open for you. We’ll do the stuff you would want to do with a girlfriend.”
The first smile she’d felt since Helen’s arrival kicked at her lips. “You’d go with me to get my hair done?”
“Yep, I hear they do those pedicure things now. That sounds like a foot rub to me.” Paul kissed her palm. “We’re not going to be passive about the way people in town act, either. I need the name of the creep who talked to you, for sure. Gerty hit you today—we’re going to do something.”
The fire she’d carried home extinguished, replaced with fatigue and desire to take Paul up on his offer of dinner and a nap. “I don’t want to fight.”
“Too bad. I’ve shopped at Sam’s store for years and intended to bring a large account there today, but I won’t after this and I’ll make sure he knows why. If anyone else in town pulls this, I’ll take my money elsewhere.”
Mary threw herself into Paul’s arms. “You made the sale?”
He pushed to his feet, spinning her around. “I sure did, with your help. I stopped by the courthouse to check on the paperwork, but the group was there, finalizing everything. The buyers were real impressed with your paperwork, said it was so cut-and-dry they couldn’t imagine not making the sale. I’ve got enough in the bank now to buy the cattle I need to push me into the big leagues because of you. No more crappy cabin, no more rationing gas, no more worrying about making payroll.”
“I’m so proud of you.” She kissed his cheeks. “I’m so sorry I rained on your good day. News like this deserves a celebration dinner. I’ll make steaks, potatoes, and—”
Paul kissed her, quieting her with his mouth. She wrapped her hands around the back of his head and kissed deeper, celebrating with him.
He pulled away. “I’m not forgetting about what you said, Mary, and you’re not going to stop me from handling things my way. The second anyone treats you badly, I’m dealing with it.”
His methods might not be ones she approved of, but she had to admit she couldn’t function if things continued their downward spiral. If she stayed unhappy, she would leave, and she loved her men too much to walk away unscathed.
“Remember how things in the bedroom got better after we worked together? We talked about…stuff…and figured out what we were better at and how to make sex the best for you? Let me and Thomas do that again with this. We don’t expect you to handle this alone.”
“But what about your mother?”
He brushed the tears from her cheeks. “And your mother. I think that’s hurting you too. I wish there was an easy answer. Thomas and I will work on Mom, and if you want we’ll make a trip down to Utah to talk with your family. If nothing else, it’ll close that up for you.”
“It’s going to be hard.”
Paul smiled, not the grin he’d started with, but Mary felt so much heaviness evaporate with that smile. “Darlin’, if I’d wanted easy I would have married Jennifer Carson when Mom said I should. I can handle complicated, as long as I’m doing it with you. Are you willing to do it too?”
She nodded, still angry and sad, but she also saw she’d let herself get isolated from her men and that had been a mistake. She rested against Paul’s chest. “I am. I’m so proud of you. You know that, right? This all…it’s not you or Thomas or Duane. It’s…everything else and it’s me.”
“Let us help, and then it won’t be so much. Trust me. Now, I’m taking you out for dinner and we’re going to have a hell of a good time, got it?”
She laughed. “I’m a mess and we still need groceries.”
“So let’s take a shower first and then we’ll head to Helena for shopping, a movie, and a celebration steak.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to worry about money, but she let it go and kissed his smiling mouth. “It’s a date.”
Chapter 14
Dear Mary,
Thank you for your kind letter. I am doing as well as can be expected here. The weather is hot and humid. I could go for a cheeseburger. To answer your questions, Vietnam is the sort of place I’d like to visit in peace time, but I can’t wait to be out of this hell. I w
ouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I prefer pasta to potatoes, but pasta here is something different than the stuff back home. I wouldn’t have thought I’d like the food the locals eat, but it’s the one thing I’ll miss about Vietnam when I’m back in Montana.
Take care. Tell Paul and Thomas I send my best.
Duane Paraby
Mary set down the letter she’d found on the table addressed to her. While she and Paul had been in Helena Thomas had brought the letter in from the post office and left it for her. She couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong with it. His tone seemed perfectly reasonable. His descriptions made her curious about Vietnamese food. She’d look into recipes to give him a taste of the world.
She gazed around the cabin. The shelves in the kitchen were laden down with food from their trip to the larger grocery store in Helena. They’d stocked up while the prices were better and cash no longer was a problem. The supplies warmed her with memories of her mother who had enough for two years, per the Latter Day Saints’ recommendations. Mary might not follow the faith, but she liked that practice and intended to get busy canning when she had more room.
On Thomas’s desk a stack of envelopes caught her attention. Duane used an off-white paper set she’d sent him with her first letter. Thomas had one on his desk. She checked out the window, expecting Thomas and Paul soon, but her curiosity beat at her. She’d just peek, that’s all.
The cream envelope laid cut open, a sheet of folded paper sticking out. It was bad to snoop. She opened the letter.
Thomas and Paul,
Quit setting me up with Mary. I’m not fucking around with this nonsense. She seems nice enough, which means she’s not for me. You two go ahead with the happy home shit. I don’t do nice. I’ll be back in two weeks, and if you two fucks don’t back off I won’t come to the cabin. I’m not the man to be the fourth in your little speed wagon of a relationship. Find someone else, or hell, be happy with what you have since it sounds like you hit paydirt with this woman. She’s not for me, and I won’t have any part of this.
The paper fell out of her limp fingers. She’d read the rejection in her own letter, but seeing it so clearly hurt. He didn’t want her.
Another person who saw no reason to have a woman like her in their lives. Just when she’d been feeling pretty okay in her place, loved by three men despite the negativity of the world, one backed out. With one out, what stopped the others? Paul and Thomas loved her, but they’d said Duane would too. She hadn’t realized how much she’d counted on having the third man in her life. She’d already built a place in her heart for him. And he didn’t want it.
Mary put the letter back in its envelope and fought to regain composure. She went to the kitchen sink and splashed water on her face to cast aside the tears. Panicking or worrying helped nothing. Feeling somewhat better, she swiped red lipstick across her lips but strongly considered switching shades when she looked in the mirror. Red only brought attention and she’d had more than her share. Maybe if Duane…there wouldn’t be a Duane.
The door of the cabin opened and Mary threw a smile over her shoulder as Thomas stepped inside. The twins weren’t to blame for their cousin’s choices and she’d already taken out so much of her anger and confusion on them.
“I like that color.” Thomas leaned against the kitchen counter with a lazy grin on his face. “After I get another job I’m taking you out and I want you to get a dress that same shade.”
She wanted to flirt because he was being sweet, but too much crap hung in her mind, jumbling new hurts with old ones. “Red is the color for harlots, you know. My father read a book about a scarlet woman and afterward he requested his wives wear other colors.”
Thomas’s face turned stormy. “You’re not a harlot. What the hell is with this recrimination? Paul and I are faithful to you. I thought we were past this.”
So much anger—anger that had no right to be in her, not after they’d talked and shared apologies and strategies for change—slammed her chest. After her mother left her with her aunt, Mary stayed in her room for days. Why had she thought she’d do better with this huge change than she had the last time she’d faced upset?
“You’d think we were, but what if your mother pushes, Thomas? What happens if she makes you chose?”
“She won’t, and if she does, you win. You know that.”
“Do I? Do I really? What do I win? A mother-in-law who hates me? Two men who look at me and love me, but also see a person who drove a wedge in their family? The contempt of an entire town? The brazen brand of slut?”
The anger turned to grief and tears fell down her cheeks. She hated being so damn pitiful, but even after Paul’s assurances the night before and Thomas offering the same, her nerves shattered. Thomas patted her shoulder, but left her space. She turned and wrapped her arms around him. When he hugged her hard she added her legs, holding on for dear life.
* * * *
“Hell, what’s wrong now?” Paul asked.
Thomas thought they’d fixed this. He turned to his twin who set down a headboard and approached with a wary frown. Maybe they’d only saw what they wanted. They wanted their bandage solutions to sop up her bleeding heart and get them through to solid ground—but they’d missed something.
She sobbed on his shoulder, muttering unintelligible words through the tears. He stroked her hair and hoped to God Paul knew what to do.
“She’s upset because she thinks everyone hates her.”
Paul nodded. “Yeah, she was upset about that yesterday too. What set her off today?”
His gaze shot around for clues and found one on his desk. Duane’s letters sat on top of the stack of papers. “Honey, did you read the letter on my desk?”
She froze in his arms, but after a long moment nodded. Though he’d hoped she wouldn’t read the letter, he put aside annoyance because he desired a home without secrets. That meant he couldn’t keep them either, even to spare Mary’s feelings. In this, though, there might be something to salvage.
“Baby, Duane is in Vietnam. Before he left he swore to us he would not make a single plan until he returned to US soil,” Thomas said. “He’s pissed at us for making plans for him—even ones he wants. It’s horrible over there, and he’s seen things he says have changed him. He doesn’t think it’s fair to you to include him in this.”
“I don’t care,” she sobbed.
“Shhh.” Paul strode closer and took a place patting her other shoulder. “We don’t care either and we’ve told him so. When he gets back this will be different, I promise. He’s focused when it comes to his plans. Once he can focus on you…he’s going to love you as much as we do.”
“We have to head to Malmstrom Air Force Base to pick up Duane in a few weeks. Since we were going to take a few days off anyway, let’s plan on making this one big road trip and stopping by your family’s home too. You can get some closure on the past before starting a new future with Duane—all of us, really. I don’t want this eating at you anymore.”
“I’m trying.” Her tears finally eased, though the hiccups remained. “I don’t want to be this crazy. I’m fine for a while, but then I start thinking of what happens if everything falls apart.”
“Well, quit it,” Paul ordered.
She laughed through her tears. “Yes, sir.”
“Seriously.” Thomas ran his hand over her hair. “We have years of love ahead of us. Let’s get through this bump in the road and get on with life the way we want it. You’re too confident, and frankly, correct, to let other people—especially idiots—dictate your future.”
She nodded into his shoulder and he hoped she took that the right way. One of the reasons he’d felt Mary could be the one was because of her confidence. Their path together would be rocky when it came to public opinion. They were living in the time the west coasters called for free love, but practical minds hesitated. He didn’t need free love…just Mary.
“Can I blame this latest outburst on PMS?” she asked, her voice small.
Paul chuckled. “Sure. You can blame it on Thomas too, and then come to bed with me instead. That’ll teach him.”
Thomas shoved Paul with one hand and held Mary with the other. She giggled and pulled them both around her again, wiping her tears against Thomas’s shirt. “You two are brats, but I love you both. I really am sorry for being a mess. I’m going to trust you about Duane, but it hurt to read his letter. I’m sort of…I’m invested in being with all three of you. The two of you are amazing and so special, but I think Duane will finish this.”
“Finish?” Thomas asked
“You know, like add the final cornerstone of what’s to come. It’s weird, but just hearing you guys talk about him helps so much. And I know it’s maybe kind of bad of me, but knowing your mother doesn’t like him kind of puts him in a unique spot.”
Paul nodded. “You’re very perceptive. Mom and Duane fight like cats and dogs over everything. He’ll be an ally against Mom with you when Thomas and I are in tight spots. It’s another piece to bolster you. I understand.”
“I’m going to talk to Mom,” Thomas insisted. “I’m always on your side, Mary. Always.”
She didn’t speak or nod to show she believed him, and he realized she had good reason to doubt him. He loved his mother. Not enough to walk away from Mary, but he considered her feelings. Duane, firmly in an irritating nephew place, didn’t have that connection.
“All right,” Thomas said. “I see what you mean. I am on your side though, Mary. I am. I love you.”
She held his face in her hands. “I don’t want there to have to be sides, but when there are, I need…”
“Duane to come in and call her out.” Paul grinned over Mary’s head. “He’s great at that. Thomas and I will get better though. We have to head to Helena again for lawyer crap and new mattresses for the bunk beds I brought in from the bunkhouse. Want to come along? We can use the drive to make plans for the trip to Utah.”
Mary's Men Page 11
