The Widows of Wichita County (23 page)

December 19
10:00 p.m.
Pigeon Run

H
elena hurried up the stairs as fast as she could. She wanted to get into her robe and relax. Most of the evening she had been fighting a nagging pain in her chest and now, finally, she could forget about everything and breathe easy.

All she needed to do was rest, she told herself. Everything would be better once she made it back to J.D.

As she entered their room, he poured her a glass of wine. She did not tell him she had been feeling dizzy earlier, or that she'd thrown up the soup she'd had for dinner. She blamed both on the excitement of the evening, nothing more. Nausea and dizziness were little inconveniences she had learned to live with over the past few months. Like the flu or a cold, they would pass eventually.

And, in truth, when she leaned back in her favorite chair and finished her first glass of wine, she did feel better. The pain eased a little and she relaxed. Home was the only medicine she needed.

Following a lifetime of routine, she got out her yellow
legal pad and wrote several notes with her plans for tomorrow. Meetings, things to check, messages to Mary. The last entry said simply, “remember to tell the girls I love them.”

J.D. was right, she should make it a habit. She had spent far too many years seeing the twins' shortcomings. It was time she noticed a few of their talents.

As she calmed, she told J.D. every detail of the evening, laughing with him about how adventurous she had been and almost crying when she described the way Anna and Zack had looked at one another.

Exhaustion finally seeped into her very soul. The wine eased the discomfort in her chest. Helena decided she would not take the nitroglycerin. All she needed was a good night's sleep.

The ache grew sharper when she removed her jewelry and placed it in her jewelry box, but Helena never went to bed without making sure her clothes were properly cared for. Her cashmere coat was brushed and put in its place, ready for the next time she needed it. Her shoes were dusted inside with powder and buffed. Her dress folded neatly and placed among cleaning, ready to be taken out.

From her desk she lifted the silver dollar J.D. had given her and walked slowly to bed. The pain lessened a little when she lay down. She nestled into J.D.'s waiting arms and drifted to sleep.

An hour later, her heart forgot to beat. Her hand opened and the silver dollar rolled across the floor.

J.D. pulled her closer.

Dreams drove the drilling. Dreams of being rich. Dreams of power. Dreams of belonging.

And for some, the lucky ones, dreams of home.

December 20
After midnight
Howard House

“S
helby? Are you awake?” Crystal tiptoed into Shelby's room. She'd heard the night nurse go downstairs for her midnight dinner. Crystal was still far too keyed up to sleep.

“I'm awake,” he answered. “Though I convinced the guard I was asleep, otherwise she'd never relax and leave me alone.”

Crystal hesitated. “Would you rather I leave?”

“No. Come join me. We might as well party while we have the chance.”

Crystal slipped into his bed, careful not to get too close. Her white satin pajamas didn't make a sound. “I miss sleeping with you, darling. Not the sex so much, just the sleeping.”

She paused, thinking of how much a part of their marriage had been the sex. He had taken great pride in “how often” and “how long.” Her words now must have hurt him and that had not been her intent.

But he surprised her by answering, “I know. I feel the
same. Sometimes I wake up late at night and try to pretend the hum of the machines is the sound of someone breathing next to me.”

They lay beside one another for a long while before she said, “I feel something tonight, Shelby. A changing in the wind. Like after tonight the world will somehow be a different place, and we can never go back to the way it was.”

He didn't comment.

“I know you think my feelings are dumb, but don't make fun of them. This one is too strong.” Closing her eyes, Crystal almost felt the velvet of a magician's cape floating over her. When it lifted, her world would have shifted.

“How about I never make fun of your feelings again?” Shelby's voice was so low she would not have heard it if she hadn't been inches from him. “How about I never say anything you do is dumb? How about I call you darling from now on and drop the baby doll?”

She twisted so she could see his face. The sight of him still frightened people, but his looks no longer bothered her. “I don't mind the baby doll. I kind of like it. It makes me feel like I'm still just a kid.”

“It's not good enough for you, and I'm finally realizing it never was.” He sounded cold somehow, angry. “And what I'm saying has nothing to do with the offer Trent made you. I've thought about that though, and I've decided you should take the third of Howard Drilling. Get the money and get on with your life. You deserve better than to be stuck with me.”

“I'm not going to take the offer.” Crystal could not believe he suggested it. “If I have to, I'll fight both Trent and you on the point.”

“I'm not who you think I am, Crystal. I'm tired of living a lie. I'm not your husband.”

“Shelby, don't get upset. Trent always upsets you when he comes. I don't know why, but he can say three words and you complain for days. And of course you're my husband, being burned doesn't change that.”

“Are you listening to me?” Shelby's voice cracked. “Have you heard one word I've said?”

“No,” Crystal answered in the formal voice she used to conduct business downstairs. “And I'm not going to until you start to make sense. I'm your wife. I love you more right now for trying to make me leave than I've ever loved you—so why would I even consider Trent's offer?”

She rose up on one elbow and frowned at him. “If you think for one minute that I'm leaving you, you'd better think again. So give up on trying to make me walk out the door. I'm not listening.”

She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him laugh.

“You sound just like Helena Whitworth.”

Crystal smiled. “Maybe I do. Maybe the old girl and I have a lot in common. I'm finding out I'm more of a fighter than I ever thought I was. Who knows, in a few years I may be running this town and everyone, even folks I meet on the street will call me Mrs. Howard.”

“But Trent promised you—”

“I don't care about the money. I never have, but I couldn't convince anyone of that before the accident, not even you. Now, if I stay, you'll know it's because I want to. The day I got called to the hospital, all I could think of was myself. I guess maybe if Trent had made the offer then, I'd have run. But that was before you needed me. Before the accident I'm not sure you really knew I was
alive. Before we began to work together like a team I didn't feel like I was good at anything.”

“I'll never be the man you married.”

“You're already more than you were before the accident. I see it in how you take the pain without complaint. In how strong you are when I get frightened. You're my hero now more than you ever were before.”

He slowly moved his hand and touched her fingers. “You know, I think I'm falling in love with you, Mrs. Howard.”

Crystal smiled. “Well, it's about time.”

Around old boomtowns weeds now grow over the foundations of derricks that changed lives and land forever. Once in a while someone notices a faded sign of a flying red horse or a wildcat brand carved into wood and remembers how the hunger for oil blew across Texas like a powerful wind.

December 23

A
s Crystal Howard predicted, there was a changing in the wind blowing across the prairie town of Clifton Creek, Texas. It whirled through the narrow streets and blasted down Main, as if trying to mix directions until there was no north or south, no east or west.

Somehow it seemed fitting that the plastic, lamp pole reindeers Helena had always complained about were blown down before her funeral procession moved past the courthouse.

Though the roads were icy, the polished black funeral limos glistened in the morning light. Everyone who did not attend the service lined the road in their cars, bumper to bumper, all the way out to the cemetery. As the casket moved past, each car turned on its lights and left them on until the last car had cleared the street.

Helena Whitworth was buried in her new wool suit with her cashmere coat folded over her arm and her favorite scarf in her hand. Paula insisted on that, saying her mother would never want to be caught unprepared for the weather.

Helena's Choice bore a huge wreath on the door and
was closed until one. The twins thought of closing all day, but Mary reminded them it was the Christmas season and their mother never would have missed the entire day's sales.

The townspeople considered Helena their friend, but there were four special pallbearers who walked behind the casket. Crystal Howard in classic black, Anna Montano with her arm tucked into a sling and a hat shadowing her face, Randi Howard in a pleated prairie skirt and black Lucchese boots, and Meredith Allen in the same simple navy dress she had worn to every funeral for the last ten years.

Though most of the women cried, Crystal, Anna, Meredith and Randi did not shed a tear. Someone whispered it was because they had so much sorrow to bear, but the women knew different. They all decided Helena was exactly where she wanted to be. She was with J.D.

At the graveside, most people stayed in their cars. They all watched as Helena's daughters said their last goodbye. Paula clutched a page from a yellow legal pad in her hand. Patricia was too busy trying to corral her children to remember to place the rose Pastor Wayne had handed her on her mother's casket.

When the family moved away from the grave, Meredith expected the cars to leave, but no one did. Then she realized they were waiting for them, the widows, to finish their farewell. She chose to believe it was out of respect and not curiosity.

Randi stepped forward first. She spread her gloved hand out on the casket.

Anna was next. She placed her fingers on the box and whispered a prayer.

Crystal brushed a few snowflakes from the mahogany.

Meredith added her ungloved hand to the others atop the casket. She wanted to say something, but words would not come. Slowly, the four hands came together over Helena's coffin. They crossed as true as points of a compass from four different directions.

No one said a word. No one had to.

The wind circled snow in the air and blended with the fragrance of flowers from beside the grave. Slowly, each stepped away walking past the huge Whitworth stone where Helena had had her name carved beside J.D.'s months before.

Randi looped her arm in Crystal's. “How about I go home with you for Christmas? We'll split all those presents you piled beneath that huge tree and open them like they were all bought just for us.”

Crystal grinned. “Sounds great.”

Zack stepped forward and put a gentle arm around Anna. They had a flight to catch in a few hours to Italy. She wanted to spend a week with her family and then the new year seeing Rome with Zack. They planned to stay away long enough to give Carlo time to pack. They had agreed not to press charges and to give him a dozen broodmares if he would be gone when they returned.

Meredith watched them leave, knowing they would be married by the time she saw them again.

She turned toward her car. Sheriff Farrington waited halfway between her and the Mustang. As she passed him, he removed one of his gloves and took her hand, then fell into step with her as if he had done so a thousand times.

“I knew you'd be freezing,” he mumbled as his warm hand covered her fingers.

Meredith smiled, realizing the whole town was probably watching. “You're holding my hand.”

“Well, it was either that or follow behind you picking up frozen fingers as they fell off.”

Meredith stopped walking and faced him. “You're holding my hand, Granger.”

He smiled down at her. “That I am.”

* * * * *