Opal (12 page)
‘‘I guess knowing is better than not. I’m sorry, Pastor. Her bein’ your kin and all.’’
‘‘Oh yes, of course.’’ Close kin. Of the most intimate kind. And my son in there is the fruit of that sin. He backed toward the door.
He’s probably wondering why I don’t volunteer to help find the body. Jacob
Chandler, be a man and say the right words
. ‘‘I-I need to take care of the boy.’’ He waved a shaking hand and almost groaned in relief when Marshall took the hint and waved back as he headed for the road.
Joel stared at him, waiting. Jacob shook himself, at the same time ordering some semblance of control.
‘‘The man found his horse and buggy.’’ Joel made it sound more statement than a question.
‘‘Yes.’’ Tears burned the backs of Jacob’s eyes.
‘‘Where’s my mother?’’
‘‘I don’t know.’’ That at least wasn’t a lie.
I don’t know where her
body is, and if she killed herself, I don’t know where her soul is. Lord God,
can I tell him she is safe with you?
‘‘I-I’m afraid she had an accident.’’ He crouched beside the chair so that he and Joel were eye to eye. ‘‘But we’re not sure yet.’’
‘‘Is she dead?’’ Joel’s eyes narrowed; his chin quivered.
‘‘I don’t know. All I know is that Mr. Marshall found his horse and buggy. That’s all I know.’’ When he laid a hand on Joel’s shoulder, the young boy flinched away.
Joel kept watch from the front steps throughout the long day, ignoring the comings and goings of villagers, some who whispered in consideration of the hunched little figure. Others brought bread and cakes, accompanied by consoling pats and condolences.
By evening Joel lay asleep on the couch, and Jacob didn’t bother to light any lamps, hoping that if anyone else came, they would think him not at home.
Later that night he wrote two letters in the glow of the kerosene lamp. He tucked Joel into bed, walked down to the post office, and dropped the letters into the slot. One was for the deacons at the church that was no longer his, the other for the overseeing pastor of this district. Once back at the house, he gathered his few personal items and packed them in a carpetbag, leaving the house neat and ready for the next occupant.
He woke Joel before the rooster crowed. ‘‘Come, we are going now.’’
‘‘To find my mother?’’ the boy asked, sleep still befuddling his gaze.
‘‘To find . . .’’ The breath caught in his throat.
We are going
because I cannot live the lie here
.
Lord, what is the best for Opal?
The question had been beating Ruby into the dust ever since she had heard of yesterday’s card game. Gambling, a vagrant attack, hostility, a lack of concern for womanly things. Where had her sweet and loving little sister gone? In all their lives they’d never had a shouting match like the one when Opal had returned from school this afternoon. While more than once Rand had calmed altercations in the past, this one had gone beyond what even he would have been able to control, had he been near the house.
All because she asked Opal to help with the spring cleaning. Yes, she knew Opal was training the horses, and yes, that was important. But with Rand gone to Dickinson for supplies, Ruby had hoped to get the spring cleaning done before he returned. Beating rugs, scrubbing floors, and ironing curtains were part and parcel of womanly duties.
Not according to Opal.
Ruby slammed the bread dough back down on the table. In a few days school would be out for the summer. She rammed the heel of her hand into the spongy dough, flipped an edge over with her other hand, at the same time turning the dough on the floury surface. Three times, then she flopped the entire mass over and repeated the kneading. At the rate she was going, they’d have the lightest bread in the territory. Kneading bread dough was always a good way to work out one’s frustrations. But did Opal know how to make good bread? No, not really.
Slam, bang
. Did Opal care if her future family would starve because she had no idea how to manage a household? No.
Thud, slam
.
‘‘You beating bread to death?’’ Little Squirrel stopped at the table.
‘‘Something like that.’’ Ruby formed the dough into a smooth round and laid it back in the wooden bowl to rise again. After covering it with a clean dish towel, she set the bowl back in the square of sunshine painting a golden window on the counter.
She paused to stare out at the trees still leafing out, the grass so green and supple, tall enough now to bend with the breeze. Woolen long johns danced on the clothesline, mute testimony to the end of winter.
Her arms ached from the pounding she’d given the bread dough. She’d tell Rand of her decision tonight.
Opal was going to visit the Brandons whether she wanted to or not.
Lying in bed beside Rand, she hated to bring up anything unpleasant, but there’d not been time earlier. At least not time when they were alone.
‘‘So are you asking me or telling me?’’ His voice came gentle through the dark.
‘‘Does it make a difference?’’
‘‘I reckon it does.’’
‘‘Well, I haven’t bought the ticket yet.’’
‘‘So you want my opinion?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘You know how much I’ve come to count on Opal’s help. She’s good as any hand, or almost. She has a good sense with all the animals.’’
‘‘I know. I just wish she had more sense about herself.’’ Ruby turned on her side and laid her arm across her husband’s chest, loving the feel and the sound of him. Seemed the only cross times they had were about Opal.
‘‘She doesn’t want to go.’’
Ruby sighed. ‘‘I know that. It’s not like I’m sending her away—’’ ‘‘Isn’t it? Seems so to me. She won’t fit into the womanly role, so you hope Mrs. Brandon can do more than you.’’
‘‘She’s wiser, and the girls there would be a good influence.’’
‘‘Isn’t it just the trappings you’re looking at? No one has a kinder heart than Opal. Her sense of humor brightens all of our days. She loves this ranch like she was bred and born here.’’
‘‘So you are taking her side?’’
Rand slid his arm beneath her neck. ‘‘I’m not taking sides, just trying to work this out for everyone’s good.’’
‘‘But she loved New York and the Brandons. There’ll be theater and libraries and the park. They’ll go to the shore and shopping.’’ ‘‘Sounds to me like you’re the one who wants to go to New York.’’
‘‘Rand, if she were a young lady in New York, she would be attending a finishing school, taking lessons in art and music.’’
‘‘If she were of the Brandons’ class. Where would the two of you be had you not come west?’’
‘‘Still working for the Brandons, where they were giving her all the advantages their daughters had.’’ Ruby chewed on the inside of her cheek. ‘‘I know what you are getting at.’’
He stroked her cheek with a gentle finger. ‘‘I know she is your little sister, but when I married you, she became my sister-in-law.’’
Ruby shifted just the slightest but created a bit of space between them. ‘‘If she wants to go, then you would allow her to?’’
‘‘If that’s what she wants.’’
‘‘And if she doesn’t?’’
‘‘Maybe we ought to cross that bridge when we come to it. I sure would like her to be here for roundup.’’
Opal managed to ride out for school the next morning without speaking a word to Ruby.
With a cup of coffee in hand, Ruby took Per out to sit on the back porch, not that Per ever sat still for more than an inch of time. Rand and Beans had fenced the back porch, which stretched the length of the house, with chicken wire and had built a gate so that Per had a safe place to play. Ruby sat down in one of the rockers and leaned her head back. Heartsore. She’d read that word somewhere. That’s how she felt about Opal lately. Yet there seemed to be nothing she could do to fix it.
She rubbed her middle and stared into the fragrant dark liquid in her cup. Though nothing had sounded better to her, for some reason, the coffee didn’t set well on this lovely morning.
‘‘Ma?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
Per’s unintelligible babbling made her smile. He pulled himself up on the fencing and used it to make his way over to her. When he drew up even, a good two feet separated them.
Per looked over at her, waved his free arm, and jiggled in place. His gyrations shook his balance, so he grabbed the wire with both hands again, still grinning at her over his shoulder.
Ruby held out her hands, elbows resting on her knees. ‘‘Come on, big boy, you can walk to Ma.’’ She wiggled her fingers. ‘‘Come on.’’
Cat, enjoying the sun in the other chair, meowed, arched her back, and stretched all the way from whisker to tail the way only cats can do. Then she leaped to the floor and crossed to rub against Ruby’s skirt.
Per chattered again, flapping his free arm, bending and straightening his knees so his shift brushed the floor.
‘‘Come on, you can walk this far. See, Cat is waiting for you.’’
‘‘Ma, ma, mmm.’’ Drool glistened on his chin. He reached as far as he could, but she deliberately kept her hands a few inches from his.
He stamped one foot, then again, leaning as far as his arm attached to the fence allowed.
‘‘Per, you are so funny. Come on, let loose and walk here.’’ She wiggled her fingers. Cat arched her back, then sat to wash her face, licking a white paw and rubbing it over ear and cheek.
Per mumbled and stared, his fist clenching and unclenching. He took one step, let go of the fence, took two more steps, wavered, and collapsed into her hands.
‘‘Per, you did it. You walked all by yourself.’’ She held him up for kisses and hugs, loving his chortles, kissing his cheeks. She put him on her lap, but before she could kiss him again, he was sliding to the floor to tackle Cat.
Cat tolerated his fingers for a bit, then rose and stalked back to the other chair. She leaped up into the seat and turned around three times before settling in.
Per, eyes focused only on Cat, rolled to his knees and crawled over there to pull himself up on the chair. He thumped the patient animal with one hand and crowed his delight. Cat shook her head, glared at the intrusion, and leaped to the floor in one sinuous movement, stalking off, tail stick straight.
‘‘She got you there.’’
Per turned to look over his shoulder.
‘‘You’re more fun than a pile of kittens. Wait till we tell your pa that you walked all by yourself.’’
Per kept one hand on the chair, walked around it, and took two steps to the wire, then followed it over and walked right into his mother’s waiting hands.
Ruby cuddled him for the moment he allowed and let him go when he began to squirm. She tossed the dregs of her coffee into the bridal wreath bush and glanced over to the garden where Little Squirrel was planting corn. The peas were already climbing up the willow branch trellis Rand had tied together. Potatoes showed green hills, and carrots feathered in lines straight as the string used to mark them.
Opal had caught enough fish that Little Squirrel was able to plant part of one under every hill of corn. Hoe a hole, drop in the fish, cover, drop five corn kernels—one for the crow, one for the worm, and three to grow—cover, and tamp. Take a full step and repeat. Thanks to the plow Rand had bought, they had a huge garden this spring compared to other years.
Ruby rose and walked to the west end of the porch, where she could see him with two of the horses hitched to the plow, rows of sod rolling over at the bite of the shear. He planned to plant oats for cattle feed. Beans and Chaps were digging holes for fence posts.
Ruby absently rubbed her middle and leaned against a post. Her husband was taking a ribbing for turning sodbuster, but it didn’t seem to bother him any. He and Robertson were talking about buying a mower together so they could put up more hay.
She looked down to find Per had followed her, using his friend, the fence, for support. She picked him up and pointed off across the field. ‘‘There’s Pa out there.’’
‘‘Pa?’’ Per nearly jumped out of her arms, running the
p
’s off into funny little sounds.
Of course he did not show off for all the men when they came up for dinner, laughing and washing at the bench outside the house. He crawled to meet them at the door and rode to his high chair on Beans’ shoulders. The older man had taken a strong liking to the little guy, and the way Per grinned and beat on the bald dome let everyone know he felt the same.
Beans grabbed the baby’s hands and swung him down into his chair. ‘‘So you can walk, eh? Well, you just get yerself on down to the barn and slop them hogs, you hear?’’
Per waved his arms and banged his spoon on the tray.
‘‘He got to be the happiest baby I ever seen.’’ Beans took his place at the table.
‘‘Not that you seen too many, old man.’’ Joe sat down beside him, giving Beans a cuff on the shoulder.
‘‘No, that’s one of the sadnesses of my life. Been with lotsa cows and roughnecks like you but not with much of the softer and sweeter side of life.’’
Ruby patted his shoulder as she leaned over to set the meat platter in the center of the table. ‘‘You can be grandpa to our children all you want, Beans. That’s the only way they’ll get one.’’
‘‘Thank you.’’
From the look in his eyes she knew he’d meant what he’d said. ‘‘You are most welcome.’’
‘‘Only two more days to go.’’ Opal blew in, setting her lunch pail on the counter. ‘‘I can’t wait.’’
‘‘Shh, Per is sleeping.’’
‘‘Sorry. I’m starving.’’
‘‘There’s bread and cheese.’’
‘‘Any sour cream?’’
Ruby shrugged. ‘‘Not sure, but bring in the buttermilk too. You can make biscuits for supper.’’
‘‘Ruby, I have to work with Firelight before I start the regular chores.’’
‘‘It’s time you help with the cooking more.’’ Ruby knew her tone had a bite to it, but the obstinate set of Opal’s chin got her dander up.
Opal muttered under her breath as she stomped out the back door, the screen door making a healthy slam behind her.
‘‘Ma?’’
Ruby was hoping for a bit more time before he awoke, but thanks to Opal, that wouldn’t be.
‘‘I’ll get him.’’ Opal slammed back in the door.
