The Widow's Touch (A Whimsical Select Romance Novella)

by Tamara Ternie

  The people were reluctant to leave but gradually dispersed when the sheriff rested his hand on the hilt of his gun. Although the others heeded his silent warning, Jonathon James remained.

  “You’re not getting away with it this time, madam, I assure you. I’ll not rest until you are hanged,” Jonathon barked out, and he narrowed his coal black eyes to stare down at her.

  “I’m beginning to understand why your father disliked you, Jonathon. You truly are a sniveling child disguised in a man’s body. Perhaps that’s why you weren’t left in his will. Others may believe your rants are for justice, but we both know this is about getting even for your disinheritance.”

  She sufficiently angered him, and that was easily expressed when his face reddened with rage, but he couldn’t dispute her claim. Everyone in Caroline County knew that he’d been overlooked in her husband’s will, as well as the man’s strong disfavor for his son. Jonathon was pretentious, petulant, and instable. On more than one occasion he had been committed to the state lunatic asylum due to a temporary aberration of his mind. Eloda was sure that before the recent events came to pass, he’d find his accommodations there once again.

  “Good day,” Jonathon scoffed at the sheriff and stormed off down the road.

  “Madam, if you plan to vent your gall in that manner to the rest of the town, you’re going to force me into arresting you for own protection. You’re scraping up trouble where there’s already enough to be had.”

  “I don’t scare easily, Mister Finley,” she asserted. Eloda tugged at her black, wool mourning gown by the jacket’s hem and then pulled her shawl protectively against the blowing wind. But Eloda smiled when she realized that he had afforded her the perfect opportunity to have him spend time with her. “But be that as it would, perhaps it’d be wise if you accompanied me while I’m in town.”

  “I’d be pleased to oblige, Mrs. Timmons.” He tipped his hat, waved his arm forward, and invited her to lead the way.

  Eloda knew he was probably only trying to work himself into her confidence and esteem to gather more information, but she didn’t care. She was willing to accept his agreeable company in whatever form he was willing to give it. There was something different about him than any man she’d ever met. Although she had spent nearly half her life in the intimate company of men, Jack’s presence made her feel weak and awkward. The intense desire that welled within her was unfamiliar and she couldn’t determine whether she entirely enjoyed it or not. After four husbands and numerous suitors, she had yet to experience love or desire, and the bedding practice with each had passed with anticipation of dread. Yet standing next to Jack, she found herself musing upon those yearnings much more than she ought.

  “And please, call me Eloda. I’d like to think of us as friends,” she smiled.

  “I mean no disrespect,” he began, and the sheriff looked at her with curiosity beneath his hat. He bent and offered his elbow towards her, and then continued asking, “But are you the least upset that your husband is dead?”

  “I believe anyone’s death is cause for some amount of sympathy, of course, but Mister Timmons was quite an unpleasant man to be around by measure of appearance and manner. And truth be told, Sheriff, his foul odor in life wasn’t too far from that in death.”

  They stopped at the entrance of the general store and young Miss Annie Garvey exited the door. She had a beauty that only youth could express, and the young woman knew it. She whipped her navy blue shawl over her shoulder and loudly harrumphed towards Eloda. Snapping her head in the opposite direction, the woman raised her long, narrow nose into the air and strode down the walkway.

  “That is Miss Garvey,” Eloda said stridently to the sheriff. “It is rumored that she was born with both organs of a male and a female. I reckon that is why she’s perpetually in such poor temperament.”

  The woman turned on her heels and her white, Barrett boots loudly echoed against the walkway when she stomped the wood planks and returned to Eloda. The aromatic water that the young lady generously applied was nearly as assaulting as her attitude.

  “That is a lie, Mrs. Timmons, and you well know it!” she whispered harshly. She offered the sheriff an awkward smile. “It just isn’t true,” she emphasized to him.

  Eloda raised her hand and delicately touched her lips and surprise widened her eyes. “But, Miss Garvey, the town has been rumoring that tale as long as I can remember, so surely that should prove it true.”

  The woman glared at her for a few moments, and having nothing of worth to say, whipped her gloves into her palm and marched away. But not before asserting to Jack Finley, again, that the rumor was a lie.

  “People don’t take to you overly well here, do they?” he chuckled.

  “That, sir, is because when I see a skunk I’m not shy of saying it has a stench.”

  “I’ve noticed that about you, Eloda,” he said. His face was aglow and a light-hearted laugh left his lips. “Quite honestly, I believe I’m taking a liking to it.”

  When he turned and flashed a broad smile, the sun struck him in just the right manner that a twinkle glinted in his bright blue eyes. The warmness that sprang from Eloda made her feel all-overish inside and for the slightest second took her breath. No man had ever ignited a spark within her that way. Not even Noah Dithers, a man widely known for being the most fetching man in Caroline County. But she reckoned Mister Dithers probably lost that honor when Jack Finley moved into their town.

  Although needing to go inside the general store, Eloda entwined her arm tighter inside the crook of his and began walking further down the platform. She passed several shops that she needed their wares but she enjoyed the sheriff’s company too much to make the stops.

  “Where are you from, Sheriff?” she asked.

  “I lived in Ohio before here, but I was born in Maryland.”

  “And were you a lawman back in Ohio?”

  He nodded his head. “My father was a sheriff and his father as well. And his before that was a judge. I hail from a long line of peacemakers,” he said, proudly.

  “And what brought about your leaving Ohio to come to our little town?”

  He paused a moment before he spoke. “My wife passed away during childbirth, and as there was nothing beholding me to stay behind, I moved along.”

  “I’m very sorry about your wife, Sheriff Finley,” she said with smiling sympathy, and deeply felt for his pain when the dark shades of sadness in his voice nearly brought a tear to her eye. “And your child?” she asked. “Did he or she survive?”

  Sheriff Finley shook his head.

  “I’m very sorry to hear that as well. That is dreadfully sad.”

  They reached the crossroads of the walking plank and Andy, a young boy about town, came rounding the corner like Hell had been chasing after him. He ran into Eloda and it knocked him to the floor of the walkway. If not for Jack’s interference, she’d had been pitched to the boards as well, but the sheriff claimed her into his arms and saved her the humiliation.

  When the boy saw that it was Eloda that he had struck, his eyes widened and he scurried like a startled crab across the wooden planks. Andy visibly swallowed hard, but slowly rose to his feet and addressed her.

  “I didn’t mean it, Mrs. Timmons,” he rushed out, breathless, and he nearly convulsed in anguish. “I swear, I didn’t mean it!” he exclaimed.

  “Apparently you terrify even the youngest of men in this town,” Jack said, and a lopsided smile bent at his lips.

  Eloda looked at the sheriff and back to the boy. Taking the boy by the shoulders, Eloda leaned slightly down, as his height wasn’t far beneath her own. Her eyes fastened themselves on him and she gave him a slight shake. “Andy, quit fretting,” she ordered. “I’ll hear no more about it. It was just a mishap, is all,” she pressed. The boy finally nodded and relief washed over his face. “You go on and get back home and take care of your mother, you hear?”

  The boy looked at the sheriff and back to her and he was hesitant to leave.
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br />   “Truly, all is well,” Eloda repeated, and then she smiled and soothed the child’s uneasiness.

  Again, he looked at the sheriff and then back to her. With a slight nod, he turned around and ran as fast as his legs would take him towards his home.

  “That’s the first time since I’ve arrived that I heard someone use his given name,” Jack stated. “I’ve noticed the whole of the town just calls him The Bastard, even to the poor youth’s face.”

  “Yes, I’m aware,” she sighed. She straightened her veil and skirt that which was misaligned after the boy bumped into her. “This town isn’t overly abundant with compassion for the sake he and his mother are of the lowly sort. Yet there’s not a shopkeeper in this town who’ll hire his mother so she can earn a decent wage,” she said angrily. “I suspect it’ll be much the same for the boy once he becomes full grown,” she added. She looked up at the sheriff and excitedly grasped his arm. “I think if you decide not to send me to the gallows, I shall see to it that he and his mother are placed under my employ at the ranch. I’m sure I can figure out some task they can do, especially now that Mister Timmons is no longer there.”

  Jack Finley looked down into her eyes and a slow smile crept on his lips. “If it should come to the gallows, I do believe I’d sorely miss the opportunity of getting to know you better, Eloda.”

  “Then, sir,” she said, and returned an even wider smile of her own. “See to it that my neck remains firmly intact and neither of us will find need to be disappointed.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Eloda didn’t need to step into the church to know she’d receive a poor reception from the hypocrites within; she knew it before she had left the house. She had received similar reactions upon each of her husbands’ deaths. And again, as the last three times, Reverend Tilden gave his sermon on the corruption of women, stressing the evils of Jezebel, Delilah, and Athaliah within his service.

  Eloda found slight distraction from the minister’s word when the light of the oil lamp chandelier flickered in step to the preacher’s wrathful tone. The small, one-room church accommodated eighty people comfortably, but there was well over one-hundred in attendance. Every lungful of air she inhaled felt as if it was castoff from another one’s breath. Even the artistic designs inserted within the stained glass windows didn’t fully divert her from Reverend Tilden’s enraged-filled speech.

  “The crowd beat and stabbed her to death!” the minister shouted through his gray, overgrown imperial mustache. His mustache not only covered the space of one cheek to the other, but was so full that it invaded and conquered the region of his lips as well. His white collar stood out like a beacon and contradicted the silent implication that he was a compassionate and understanding man.

  “And her death brought rejoicing into the land!” he continued and roared about the killing of Athaliah, but there wasn’t a parishioners who sat in church that didn’t know he was referencing Eloda. He held his well-worn, black bible tightly in his hand and thrust it forward and upward and accentuated his point. He lowered his bible and held it against the suit of his chest and turned his head to Eloda. The preacher glared at her so there was no mistake made to his congregation that his sermon was about her.

  “And there was no one who cried at her funeral,” he shouted, and he sneered directly at Eloda.

  Eloda stood. She had heard enough. In previous years the minister hadn’t been so direct, and most certainly never implied that the town should take matters of justice into their own hands. The smirks, snickers, and wicked glares that arose from his dreadful sermon only added to her exasperation.

  “If you cannot handle knowing the damnation that you’ll face, Mrs. Timmons, perhaps you shouldn’t return to my services again,” the minister called out to her as she walked down the aisle towards the door.

  “As this is God’s house, I’ll refrain from saying the words that are most definitely lingering on my tongue. But my advice to you, Reverend Tilden, is before you judge and damn a person in your congregation, you might want to reconcile your own offenses against God,” she countered. Eloda pressed her way further down the aisle, but it was congested by the men who hadn’t been provided a seat. She noticed ahead of her that Jack Finley was one of those people. He stood near the door with his hand on the latch. Like an angel, he stayed ready to sanction her exit from Hell. His eyes were dark, narrowed, and a look of concern glistened in his eye when their gazes met.

  “Whore,” a man uttered from the pews as she walked toward the door. The word was then repeated by the woman, his wife, who sat aside him.

  Eloda stopped. She turned and looked at the man. It was Emmett Knotting, a man she’d known since he was a boy. She didn’t like him then and cared even less for him as a man. He was well regarded for treating women and livestock with the same poor regard.

  “Truly, sir, that’s the best you have to offer? I’ll have you know that I was faithful to each one of my husbands, even when you came sniffing around my skirts asking otherwise,” she clipped out. She looked directly at the man’s wife of fifteen years and dared for either she or her husband to dispute her. Neither chose to take the challenge. Eloda returned her stare toward the minister again. “Perhaps, Reverend Tilden, you should consider a sermon on adultery next week. It’d suit you and many others in this town to hear it.” She pushed through a few more men and was close to her escape but was compelled to stop when she heard the reverend’s wife shrieking out her wrathful words.

  “I’ll not hear such blasphemy about my husband who is a direct servant of God, especially from a woman who has made it her vocation in life to kill her husbands!”

  The woman, who at full height didn’t reach the top of the pump organ aside her, was dressed in black from head to toe even though she wasn’t in mourning. Eloda was certain the woman had been born in the same drab clothing, as she had never worn anything otherwise. Her gray hair was forced into a knot on the top of her head, and was pulled back so tightly that it emphasized her bulging gray eyes. They were so pale and lifeless that they looked to belong to a person who had been long dead.

  “Reverend Tilden is an honorable and faithful servant unto God and this town. He has served this community in spirituality for over forty years! He’s a God-fearing man with virtue beyond your understanding and he would never consider taking up with another woman as you have submitted to this congregation!”

  Eloda quirked her head to the side and she looked perfectly contrite when she gazed over the woman. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Tilden,” she said sweetly, and the woman nodded her head in satisfaction. “There must be some confusion,” Eloda continued. “I don’t recall stating his participation was with that of a woman.” Leaving a dumbfounded expression on Mrs. Tilden’s face, and a mortally pale one upon the Reverend Tilden, Eloda marched out the door.

  Sheriff Finley followed her out of the church. Eloda had just made it to the bottom rung of the steps when he gently clasped her arm and stepped ahead of her.

  “I must ask,” he said, and a playful smile teased at the corner of his lips. “Has there ever been a time you’ve walked away from confrontation without debate?”

  Eloda looked at him and thought hard on his question. She angled her head to the side and grinned. “Now that you make mention of it, no, I don’t believe there has.”

  Jack laughed. He secured his hat onto his head and walked Eloda to her carriage. She wasn’t sure if the sheriff followed her as a lawman who had been concerned for her safety or as a man who was worried about her emotional state after being cornered and threatened by the town. Either way, she appreciated it. Even though he’d more than likely arrest her for murder before the week passed, he was her only friend in town.

  “Are you not worried that the townspeople will think you are consorting with the enemy, Sheriff?” She watched him closely and the heat within her started to rise despite the cold Sunday morning. He was garbed in a cobalt suit that heightened the intensity in his blue eyes. There was something about how he
stared down at her that went beyond professional interest and she swallowed hard. “Being new to this town is hard enough with finding friends, as I’m sure you have found. But if you should decide to align your loyalties with me, whether professional or otherwise, you will have a long row to hoe when it comes to gaining trusts and friendships with people of this town.”

  “Well, ma’am, considering I’m not overly fond of a great number of people in this town, I don’t rightly expect I’ll be too sore at such an outcome.”

  “I am pleased to hear that, Jack.” She accepted his offered hand and allowed him to guide her into the seat of her buckboard carriage. Once Eloda settled herself in by straightening her skirts and bonnet, she looked down upon him.

  She waved her arm toward the church. “Now that the preacher has stated they have God’s approval to seek out justice on their own, they’ll be eager to accommodate him,” she said, and Jack nodded his agreement. “I’m not frightened of them, mind you, I can take care of myself,” she said with more bravado than she felt. “But most my servants and their families live on my land, and I’d be sorely upset to see any of them come to harm,” she continued. “I’d kindly appreciate it if you would take extra caution in seeing to their safety.”

  “I’ll not let it come to that, I assure you.”

  He said it with such authority that she believed him. The man truly knew exactly what to say and how to say it, Eloda decided.

  “You know, Jack, if this town catches wind that I’m in serious consideration of making you husband number five, they’ll surely have their skivvies in a knot.” Eloda smiled and slapped the reins onto her horses’ backs and set the wagon into motion. His loud and pleasingly coarse voice rang out in laughter as she departed.