Into the Light (8 page)

Aunt Em interpreted Deborah’s blank look correctly. “Taking you to church is all but a waste of time. You don’t stay in the pew long enough to hear what the preacher says, and you don’t show any interest in the family afterward either.”

That stung. And it was true, of course. Until three years ago, attending church had been a rare event. The church in Hubbell was just too far away.

Although she knew better than to admit it, Deborah had preferred it that way. The new church beside the Grange Hall was close enough to attend every Sunday, but far enough most families packed lunch and picnicked outside in good weather or ate in the Grange Hall on cold or windy days.

The problem was even sitting at the end of a pew with open space to one side, Deborah could only stand looking at all the people packed in rows like that so long before escaping outside. Sometimes she slipped back in and stood at the back for a while, more often not. As for the picnics, chatter, and gossip....

“It’s not that I’m not interested,” she said carefully. “I don’t do well in crowds. You know that.”

“And the Sutton family is becoming a crowd all by itself,” Uncle Jason said.

Deborah nodded, glad of the excuse, but Aunt Em disagreed, “Oh, bosh, Judith and Miriam attend church in town now, and Judith’s babies have never seen the inside of the new church.”

Finished forcing her tiny portions of food down her unwilling throat, Deborah washed away the salty taste of ham with a swallow of black coffee. “So what is the news I missed?”

“Beth is going to go to normal school,” her aunt said with pride. “Can you believe that? She’ll be living in Emporia and learning to be a teacher.”

Deborah’s vision blurred. Her throat closed and her head tried to float away. Uncle Jason’s voice sounded as if from a distance. “Not by herself. She’ll board with other girls, her classmates.”

“H-how can she be a teacher when she’s never been to school?” Deborah said, hating the waver in her voice.

“Well, it’s not as if she’s ignorant,” Aunt Em said, indignant on Beth’s behalf. “She’s studied at home just like you.”

Deborah managed a jerky nod and stiff smile. “I think you may be right that I’m coming down with something. I need.... I’m sorry, but I need to lie down for a while.”

She fled from the kitchen to her bedroom and barely made it to the wash basin before losing what little she’d eaten. Leaving the mess in the bowl, she crawled into bed, taking off nothing except her shoes in spite of the gathering heat.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and Deborah rolled to face the wall. She really didn’t want to talk to Aunt Em now, couldn’t. Before she decided how to ask to be left alone, Uncle Jason’s voice reached her.

“Can I come in?”

Deborah rolled back over to face the door. She couldn’t remember her uncle ever entering her room. “Of course you can.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder, so gentle she barely felt it. “Surely you don’t begrudge your cousin the chance to do this.”

Meeting his eyes had never been so hard. “No, but I envy her. Isn’t envy one of the seven deadly sins?”

He shrugged. “Those seven never sounded any deadlier than a lot of others to me. I don’t know if the school has any more open places this year, but if you want to go, we’ll find out all about it, and you’ll go. You’re every bit as smart as Cal and Norah’s girl. Smarter.”

Deborah had to smile at his loyalty. “You’re biased, but thank you, and I really wouldn’t want to be a teacher. Can you picture me shut in a room all crowded with children? I’d run out and hide in minutes even if there wasn’t a single one like Uncle Eli’s boys.”

“Well, there are other kinds of schools. If you want to go, we’ll find a way for you to do it.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, but I don’t have the courage,” she whispered, hearing an echo of what she’d told her mysterious stranger. “I envy Beth not because she’s going but because she has the courage to go. I feel safe here, and I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m content.”

“A young woman like you should want more than content. You need to think on what would make you happy and stop worrying about Em and me. If you’re happy here and want to stay, this is your home and that’s fine, but this place will go to Eli’s boys sooner or later. They’ll marry, have children, and if any of us ever need taking care of in our dotage, they can do it. No one’s going to be alone out here starving because you didn’t play nurse.”

Deborah sat up, thought about hugging him, and didn’t, knowing it would be as awkward as his pat on her shoulder. “I love you, you know.”

“We love you too. Take a little nap now, why don’t you, and when you come back down find something to do other than helping with the wash. Lucy and Em can do that. You take it easy.”

She ought to do the entire wash by herself after causing this much trouble. “I won’t do too much.”

If he caught her fudge, he gave no sign. On the way out of the room, he picked up the soiled basin and took it with him.

Caleb often said Jason was one of the few men in the world born purely good, a natural saint, and Caleb was right. Tears welled in her eyes again.

Miriam was right too. Uncle Jason and Aunt Em deserved better than a niece who thought about hugging and couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Deborah wiped her eyes and reached for her shoes. Enough of this malingering. Yearning for things she wasn’t brave enough to reach for when offered was as foolish as setting out for church every Sunday knowing she couldn’t stay in the pew more than five minutes.

If she ignored these strange new feelings long enough, they’d fade away. They would. They just had to.

A
S THE REMAINING
months of summer drifted by, Deborah’s discontent didn’t fade but settled deep inside, stealing all the contentment she had so prized. While she couldn’t even put a name to the unsettling yearning, her aunt and uncle made a diagnosis and proposed a cure.

“How would you like to spend next month in town with your sisters?” Aunt Em asked one night at supper. “I’m sure you’d enjoy seeing Judith and the children every day, and Miriam has plenty of room.”

“I don’t think so, thank you. Miriam hasn’t been married long enough to want a house guest for so long.”

In fact Deborah wondered what combination of threats and bribes the family had used to get Miriam to agree to such a thing. Aunt Em would never admit what it had taken, but Deborah would find out sooner or later. Judith would offer up the story with a laugh the first time the two of them were alone.

Convincing Aunt Em to give up on the idea took a while, but Deborah knew if missing a sister were the problem, this strange emptiness would have started when Judith left with her husband five years ago. Judith was a friend and confidante. Miriam was too spoiled and too much younger for that kind of closeness.

Deborah went back to her supper, surprised Aunt Em had given up so easily. Busy pushing boiled carrots around on her plate, she almost missed the look that passed between her aunt and uncle. Aha! The month-long visit was only a first sally. They had another cure on offer.

“I miss those girls myself,” Uncle Jason said, head bent over his plate as he cut a piece of chicken already bite-sized even smaller. “A month is long for a visit, but I think this year we ought to go in on Friday and have all day Saturday and Sunday afternoon at the fair. Come home Monday. Eli and Lucy think it’s a good idea too. Their boys will love it. We’ll find someone to ride over and take care of our livestock for a few days.”

The carrots turned to tasteless mush in Deborah’s mouth. Planning a trip to town for supplies that weekend and spending an hour or two at the fair was one thing, an annual family outing, but two whole days in the crowds and hubbub of Hubbell’s Harvest Fair?

Aunt Em had her best wide-eyed innocent look in place. “Oh, that’s a better idea, and we’ll have an excuse to dress up Saturday night for the dance.”

“Dance?” Deborah straightened in her chair, her breath catching in her throat.

“Oh, yes, the Harvest Dance is a big deal. Judith says the committee gets real musicians to play, and they decorate the town hall to a fare thee well. It will be fun. Promise me you’ll dance with Hiram Johnson and a few other eligible men before you run off for the evening. You don’t need to dance with your uncles.”

Deborah nodded without considering what she was agreeing to. The light in the kitchen seemed brighter, the scents of fresh bread, fried chicken, and coffee more appetizing. Her carrots tasted of honey.

Her mysterious stranger wouldn’t be there. He’d be back East again by now, attending college classes. Except what if he
had
graduated? He’d mentioned not returning East, so maybe he had. She should have asked when she had the chance. There must be positions in Hubbell these days for a college graduate, even if she didn’t know of any. Surely he’d rather stay near his family than go off to some big city.

Busy calculating dizzying possibilities, Deborah smiled widely at her aunt and uncle without really seeing them. “That’s a lovely idea. I’m sure we’ll all have a grand time.”

What harm could it do to have something to look forward to? No matter how slim the chance of meeting him again, for the first time in months, she felt like her old self. What harm could it do to slip away from the dance and steal some time? Maybe she would merely sit alone and remember. Maybe he’d be there, and his voice would reach out from the night and wrap around her like a soft blanket. Maybe....

Deborah grabbed hold of the idea of the Harvest Dance the way a drowning woman would a rope.

T
REY LOOKED UP
at the sound of a double tap on his bedroom door. At least he’d almost finished packing for a few days in town and could be gone in minutes.

“Come in,” he said, his lack of enthusiasm for any visitor in this house in his voice.

The door opened just enough for a sandy-haired head to poke through. “Is it safe?” Daniel Forbes inquired with humor. “You don’t sound welcoming.”

“I suppose I’m not,” Trey admitted. “I apologize. You weren’t on my list of expected visitors.”

“My brother has lured his wife into a walk while there’s still a trace of coolness in the air. We missed you at breakfast.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, yes, there was a marked conviviality in the group it lacks in your presence.” Daniel crossed to Trey’s unmade bed, sat, and ran his hand over the sheet as if checking the quality of the cloth.

Daniel’s open face was full of humor. Trey regretted his own cautious reserve. Maybe the man could be a friend, an ally in winning Alice over. Even so, trusting anyone who held a high position in his father’s empire meant trusting someone who at the very least looked the other way when criminal acts were committed under his nose.

Trey folded another shirt and piled it on top of the others in his valise.

“Do you really enjoy these jaunts to the thriving metropolis of Hubbell?” Daniel asked. “Or do you just hide out and lick your wounds for a few days?”

Trey had to laugh at the man’s bluntness. “Licking wounds is an exaggeration. Hubbell may not be a metropolis, but it is thriving these days, and yes, I do enjoy it. There’s a fair this weekend, a dance. You ought to come with me.”

“And stay with Mr. Lenahan?”

“He hasn’t got room. I suppose a place to stay might be a problem. The hotels will be full.”

“Another time,” Daniel said vaguely. “I’m sorry about Alice. She isn’t usually so emotional. Vernon thinks once the baby comes, she’ll be better natured again.”

“I’m hoping that myself, and once I’m gone for good she can forget all about it for another ten or twenty years.”

“I think she’s too smart for that, and so are you. Leaving won’t solve a thing. If something happens to your father, the lawyers will hire Pinkertons to track you down. And I bet Alice is right. Once it’s yours, you’ll change your tune.”

Trey shrugged. “If I can’t talk him out of it, I may anger him enough to change his mind. And who knows what may happen in the next twenty or thirty years? Maybe Alice and Vernon will have a son who makes a better heir. Father may outlive me, Alice, all of us. If Mother outlives him, I think she gets half by law. She can leave that to Alice.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. I tried to talk to Alice about it once, but she just got hysterical. I suppose I ought to find out the details and make sure she understands. Maybe that would calm her down.”

“Not much. No one wants to see this divided up.” Daniel made a circling motion with one arm to indicate the entirety of the ranch. “No one but you.”

“It’s a waste, and you know it. This land could support thousands of families. There’s enough land that’s not much good for farming but can support cattle west of here.”

“Good Lord, everything Alice says about you is true,” Daniel said in mock dismay. “You really are a self-righteous rabble-rouser. Have they made you an honorary member of the local grange yet?”

Trey couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Not yet, but I’m sure it won’t be long.” He finished packing, closed the valise, and gestured to the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a chance and come with me?”

“Not this time. I’m not much of a gambler, and I like a soft, clean bed at night,” Daniel said, giving Trey’s bed a last appreciative pat.

Whistling every step of the way, Trey carried his valise, rifle, and a smaller case down to the barn and loaded everything in the buggy. Licking his wounds might be an exaggeration, but he’d be the first to admit finding an excuse to get away from the ranch and spend a few days in the relatively friendly atmosphere of town lightened his spirit.

Herman heard him and went to fetch his horse before Trey could do it himself. The sight of the bedraggled little mare Herman brought to the barn stopped Trey’s whistle mid-note.

“What the hell.”

An ugly bite mark marred chestnut hair dull with dirt. The little mare was covered with nicks and scrapes and several more larger wounds in the shape of horse shoes.