by Lenny Davis
Chapter 10
Mina woke up a couple of times during the night. A nightmare in which a big black bird came down and pecked her head with its long beak had tormented her. She had put her arms up to protect herself. The bird had just kept on pecking. But when she awoke, there was nobody.
Feeling drained and exhausted, Mina got up as soon as the first rays of the sun kindled the eastern sky. The birds outside were singing cheerful tunes. They knew nothing about the troubles that beset the life of humans like her.
She staggered over to the dresser and poured water from a pitcher into a wash pan. The cold liquid on her hot skin felt good when she bathed.
A glance in the mirror revealed that she had big circles under her eyes this morning. She looked ten years older than yesterday. Like an old woman, really, even though she was barely twenty-five.
The pain of her miserable existence weight on her again as she ran the comb through her long tresses. Today she would have to tell Neville that she had taken ten thousand dollars from the safe in his office.
How would he take it? How would he react?
Would he beat her again?
Would he horse-whip her?
Would he turn her over to the Black Thirteen, for them to rough her up?
She gave a bitter laugh.
If he turned her over to the goons to punish her, the very men that she'd saved from certain death would be punishing her.
What a joke!
The joke was on her. Of course.
Perhaps she should have simply let Jesse Bartleby have his way with them.
No.
She was thinking nonsense. Neville wouldn't turn her over to the goons. He'd never done that. This was just her fear talking. He might try to slap her around a little, but that would be that. Neville could be a charming fellow, too. She just needed to learn how to get him to be charming to her again. Surely, there was something that she could do.
What a lame attempt at consolation, she thought. She shrugged. She was stuck in a bad marriage and had to make the best of it.
And no, Jesse Bartleby, I will not be thinking of you today. She acknowledged that thinking of him gave her a lot of pleasure. But it was just not right.
Tense with frustration, Mina dug her nails into the handkerchief in her hands.
Dressed in Neville's favorite dress, groomed to perfection and smelling like a rose, Mina stood by the window of the cleaned-up dining room and waited. The place had been a sorry mess last night, but all traces had been eradicated by Mamie and her girls.
At ten o'clock, Neville finally appeared. He squinted as if in pain and had a bag with ice on his head. He grunted and flopped down on an easy chair.
"Where have you been last night?" he growled.
Mina kept looking out the window. When she finally turned around, she folded her hands and said, "Neville dear, I have to say something to you."
Neville closed his eyes and groaned. "What's it this time?"
"Well, listen to this." Mina stood in front of her groggy husband and told him of Jesse Bartleby's plan to raid the ranch. She embellished what he had written to her with lots of details. She told him that the people in Jesse's camp had begun to starve and Jesse had decided this wouldn't happen. He'd decided to take the law in his own hands and to right a great wrong — one that Neville had perpetrated.
"You and your gunslingers were about to die yesterday," she said.
Neville sat motionless in his chair while she talked. Her words hit home, because the longer she spoke, the more he seemed to wither. His usually red face turned pale, then green, until he looked truly sickly.
When Mina finally got around to telling him how she handed the ten thousand dollars over to Jesse, yesterday on the prairie, Neville jerked. He scooted up to the edge of his chair, so his feet touched the ground. He jerked again and then sat motionless.
Mina spoke on about life in Jesse's camp and that it was only good and right that she had handed the man his wages. But when after a minute she turned around — she noticed that Neville hadn't moved. He still sat in the same posture he'd assumed a minute ago.
Concerned, Mina came closer. "Neville? Are you all right?"
Neville sat like a statue, if an awkward one. His eyes were screwed shut, his pallid face frozen in a frown. His upper arms were close to his body, while his hands were halfway extended, as if they were reaching for something on the floor that wasn't there. He sat x-legged on his overstuffed chair. His toes in his expensive slippers were barely touching the ground.
"Neville, say something."
Neville didn't react.
Mina tried to shake him, but found that she could not move him. It was as if Neville had turned into stone right in front of her weary eyes. She stood undecided for a few seconds. He hadn't slumped or fallen over. He sat upright. That meant he wasn't dead.
What was happening to her husband?
It had to be something terrible.
"Mamie!" she cried. "Mamie, come quick!"
A moment later the face of her trusted housekeeper appeared in the doorframe. "What is it, ma'am?"
Mina stood in front of Neville and stared at him. "Something happened to our master."
Mamie waddled closer. "What?"
Mina covered her mouth with her fingers and whispered, "I don't know."
Mamie came, bent down and studied Neville. Looking up at Mina, she shrugged. "Dr. Dickerson," she said. "Somebody needs to go to Courage and get the doctor."
