The Waking Bell
Page 13
Her stern expression gave me the feeling of uneasiness. Her eyes bore into me like a cat looks upon a mouse.
Immediately, I pressed my skirt down and patted my hat. The confidence I had gained by becoming Mrs. Pritchard melted away in this woman’s presence.
“Mother, this is Cady Blue.”
“It seems strange to meet my son’s wife after the fact,” she said stiffly. “Shame how a son treats his mother.”
“Mother, this isn’t the time,” Matt said. “Let us get settled.”
“The girl needs to know what she faces,” Mrs. Pritchard stated.
“What we face, Mother,” Matt said bluntly. He protectively wrapped his arm about my waist and pulled me closer. “I’m not going to argue with you. I need to get down to the Pride. I want to know that Cady Blue will be fine while I’m gone. I don’t need another worry.”
I instantly remembered a sermon Frazier had preached. Get thee behind me Satan. Matt had set his body between his mother and myself as if she would breathe fire at me.
“Can I at least talk with you…in private?”
Matt grimaced. He squeezed my hand. “It won’t be long. I will be right back.”
I watched him limp behind his mother down the hall and walked into a room. I had learned his limp became more prominent when he was upset. He certainly wasn’t happy with his mother.
Left alone, I stood in the middle of the foyer. Despite the lights that were on, it was dark. The walls were dark wood. In the middle of the area was an ornate staircase, leading to a landing where light from the fading evening shone through stain glass windows.
Matt had told me his grandfather had the house built back in the early 1900s. It had six bedrooms, a study, and a parlor in the first-floor turret.
“Grandpa even had secret compartments throughout the house,” Matt had told me. “My cousins and I used to spend hours playing hide-and-seek.”
I imagined our children would do the same. At least, it was what I hoped.
Waiting like this, my nerves got the better of me. I had a pit in the bottom of my stomach with the realization that his mother hadn’t known about the wedding. Moreover, it meant that Matt had lied to me when he said his mother was planning a party for us.
My head began to hurt. I prayed the bells wouldn’t start.
A few minutes later, Matt emerged. The lines tightened at the corners of his mouth as he walked toward me. He was angry. Something had made him deeply angry. His gray eyes had turned cold.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he began. “I have to leave. Don’t let Mother bully you while I’m gone. She’s upset…and it’s my fault. I don’t want to get into it now.”
I gripped his hand. “Can I go with you?”
“I won’t be long. Rest in our room until I get back if you don’t mind eating until I return. I want to get down there while it’s still light.”
Despite my reluctance, I could refuse him nothing. “Alright.”
He gave me a small smile, but I could see his mind was elsewhere. I watched him bring our bags into the foyer. He kissed me lightly and was gone.
I was alone, except I wasn’t.
Over my shoulder, I saw Mrs. Pritchard standing in the hall, lighting a cigarette. She took a puff and looked at me curiously as she raked her eyes over my figure. “You have come a long way for the town idiot,” she said in a dry, hard tone.
Her words launched like a missile at its target to inflict shame and humiliation. Shocked, I remained silent.
The bells came, but I refused to give in to her intimidation. I made no attempt to hold my head to stop the ringing or turn from her. Goldie had warned me that I wouldn’t be welcome with open arms and not to expect it.
She took another puff and exhaled. “You are lucky that my son took pity on you,” she went on. “Most girls like you would have been tossed to the curb.”
“We love each other.”
“Lust,” she huffed, “is the word to use, my dear. Nothing more. It will fade.”
Goldie’s words resonated within me. No matter what. She is his mother. Respect her.
“It’s not like that, ma’am.”
She laughed. “You are naïve if you believe that.”
I was too tired to banter. I picked up my vanity case. “May I go upstairs?”
“It is your house now. You don’t need my permission.”
For a long moment, I stood there. Finally, I said, “I don’t know where the bedrooms are.”
“Ah,” she said. “I forgot you have never been here before. Follow me.” She paused on the landing and looked over her shoulder. “Would you like a room to yourself?”
Appalled at the thought, I replied, “No, I want to be with Matt.”
“I thought I would ask.” She shrugged. “Moria found she liked a place of her own.”
I stiffened at the mention of my husband’s dead wife. I was glad it was dark for I was certain my face had drawn of all color. I wanted nothing more than to forget the past. Matt’s and mine alike. But the past would not be forgotten. I had a sudden epiphany that it would have to be lived with to start anew.
Mrs. Pritchard began walking again. I followed in silence like a shadow to the far bedroom at the end of the hall. She opened the door.
“The bathroom is across the hall. If you want supper, just come downstairs. Emma has made plenty,” she said, holding back the door.
I made my way inside. The room was masculine with dark cherry furniture and a matching sleigh bed. The theme carried through with a deep-green pattern wallpaper and heavy drapes. A fireplace sat to the left side of the bed across from the window.
The chandelier had three lights to brighten the room, but there was still a need for more light. I thought that during the day the curtains needed to be drawn and fresh flowers on the night table to lighten the gloom.
Lost in my thoughts, I had forgotten Mrs. Pritchard was still at the door. I looked over at her.
She gave me a smile. “You know why he married you, don’t you?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean?”
Her smile broadened. “He had no choice. He couldn’t have your reputation ripped to bits and take the chance of your account being discarded.”
My account being discarded? Did she mean my statement that I saw Moria with Dodie the morning she died? It was the truth. Did he believe I had made it up, but needed my version to be believed? Why?
Her insinuation was that no one could question me now. I was Mrs. Matthew Pritchard. No one would dare.
“Welcome to the family.”
She closed the door.
Time passed slowly after I refreshed myself. The room was rather dark and shadowy, but it was clean and tidy with no dust or spiderwebs. There were also no personal items that reflected Matt’s personality except for a lone picture of an older man with a young boy. I assumed it was of Matt and his grandfather.
I sat in an upholstered chair by the window. Pushing back the curtains, I watched the sun fade into night. After a while, I decided to go and retrieve my suitcases. I knew that Matt wouldn’t want me to, but I needed my clothes.
Quietly, I made my way down the hall and stairs. The cases still sat where Matt had left them, but it was the voices that held my attention. Matt and his mother were having a rather loud conversation.
“It’s done,” Matt’s voice carried throughout the foyer. “What else do you want me to do?”
“Not to have married her,” she replied. “It has only fueled questions. It was too soon.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to lose her.”
“You know what is whispered behind her back. She’s not quite right in the head, Matt.”
“You’re wrong about her, Mother.”
“Am I? You know people talk.”
“She’s shy. That’s all. Besides, she makes me happy.”
The voices paused for a moment. Then I heard Matt. “You can’t go
on what the Reeves say…”
“I believe they would know her best.”
“Damn it, Mother. I have too much on me right now. I don’t need you at me. You know it wouldn’t take much for the sheriff to open an investigation on Moria. He’s itching to come at me.”
“Perhaps you should have donated more to his reelection campaign.”
“As a bribe? I refuse to do that. The lazy shit needs to get off his ass and do his job.”
“Matthew Joseph! Watch your language.”
“I’m not going to live in fear because Coy is going about trying to stir up trouble. Coy needs to accept Moria killed herself. Plain and simple. I can’t explain her actions any more than I could when she was alive.”
“Dodie came to me and told me that Coy wants her to change her story. He’s trying to convince her to get to the bottom of what truly happened; law enforcement needs to do a deeper investigation. She says she’s torn, wanting to do the right thing.”
“There is no earthly reason to change a story from the truth. Not to mention that I saw her go after Cady Blue myself, which means she’s coming after me as well.”
“Not everyone is against you, Matthew. Dodie is trying to help. She’s letting me know what Coy is trying to do.”
“I doubt that. If she told Coy the truth about how Moria was acting not only that day, but for a while, he wouldn’t be coming after me.”
“Are you really so blind? She’s in love with you. She has always been…even before Moria.”
“Dodie and I have never been more than friends.” Matt’s voice lowered, but still carried in the night’s stillness. “You can’t trust her, Mother.”
“She warned me that with this marriage, you have fueled rumors that you had a hand in Moria’s death.”
I had to grip the railing to maintain my balance on the landing. I was stunned—scared. There was more going on here than his mother’s dislike of me.
Silently, I eased back up the stairs to our room. As I closed the door, fear gripped me that Matt was in trouble.
He had told me that our marriage would silence any questions. I accepted that because I knew what I had stated was the truth. Now I was confused.
The confidence I had gained becoming Matt’s wife faded quickly. I was left with a sense of insecurity, a hopeless feeling that I didn’t belong here.
I was standing by the window when Matt returned to me. I turned around to see him place our suitcases on the floor, then kick the door closed with his foot.
He came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’m sorry I left you. I was worried about the stock, but it was good news. Dave handled it appropriately like he always has.” He turned me to him and pulled me closer. “I never should have left you with Mother on our first day home.”
For a long moment, I stood with my head against his chest. Finally, I leaned back to look into his eyes. “Why did you marry me?”
He clasped my face in his hands. “Because I love you.”
His amazing gray eyes mesmerized me. I was unable to look away from him. His expression showed confidence, but behind all that strength, I saw a hint of vulnerability, an uncertainty that came from the situation he found himself in.
I lost the courage to press him for more answers. I wanted only to be in these arms.
“How much do you love me?” he asked.
“You’re my life,” I answered honestly.
He kissed me and swung me around to the bed. He made love to me ferociously. I met his desire with my own.
Afterward, with his arms around me, I realized I had a desperate need for this man. I knew only that there was nowhere else I wanted to be but with him, and he had told his mother that he loved me.
If only I knew why he and his mother were so worried about the sheriff reopening Moria’s case. If what had happened was the truth, then why all the secrets? And where did I fit in?
Chapter 11
The morning light brought with it clarity of my new circumstance. I was Matt’s wife, but it would mean little if I couldn’t carry out the responsibilities that came with it. I wanted nothing more than to prove I was worthy of being in this position.
It concerned me that I was already judged, and that impression couldn’t be undone. To even make such an attempt, I had a major obstacle to overcome: I had to silence the bells.
But they had been ringing in my head so long, and I didn’t have a clue how to make them stop. A random thought crossed my mind: what if I had used the bells as a wall to hide behind reality?
They always seemed to emerge when I became scared or unsure of a situation. I couldn’t focus on the world around me with the bells ringing.
I rose before dawn and readied. I wore one of the new outfits that Matt had bought me. A short-sleeve floral button-down shirt and light-weight green pants. I pulled back my hair with a snood and put on make-up. I looked at my reflection with satisfaction.
One thing I knew was how to cook. I wanted to prepare Matt’s breakfast before he headed to work. I eased down the stairs and headed into the kitchen.
With a good night’s sleep, I was determined to make an effort with his mother. This was going to be my life. Moreover, family was family.
My attempt at normalcy was not to be. I was to learn early on that this was a different household than the one where I had been raised.
The Pritchards had a staff of three. Mrs. Emma Holbrook was the housekeeper and lived in an apartment over the garage. She was an older woman whose husband had passed many years ago. Renee was a young girl from Oak Flatt that came in a couple of days a week to help Mrs. Holbrook clean. Pete was a handyman who drove Matt’s mother around if needed.
When I arrived in the kitchen, I discovered Mrs. Holbrook had already begun breakfast. She was a nice enough woman, short and stout with gray hair. She greeted me warmly but looked at me strangely when I asked if I could help prepare breakfast.
She shooed me out of the kitchen. “You go out in the parlor, Mrs. Pritchard. I’ll bring you some coffee.”
Being inexperienced in dealing with staff, I didn’t make a fuss and did as she suggested. I went into the parlor and found I was glad to have a few minutes alone to myself. The room sat in the turret and was warm and inviting. There were built-in shelves on both sides of the fireplace. The furniture was dark with floral carpet and competing draperies.
The couch was upholstered in a large white hydrangea pattern. There were two leather bound chairs. I chose to sit in the matching upholstered chair by the large windows that encircled the turret.
As she had promised, Mrs. Holbrook brought me a cup of coffee. I enjoyed it while looking out over the lawn.
Staring out the window, I thought how little I knew of my husband’s life in Oak Flatt. Before our relationship began, I knew him as the owner of the Pride. His family was the elite of our small community. I had only seen a glimpse of an elite life at the Reeves.
It was in that moment that I realized that my mother must have experienced a similar situation as I was dealing with now. We both married above the perceived assigned status of our births. I swore to myself I would be a better wife to my husband, a better mother to our children.
I had been ill-prepared for his mother’s reception of me. He had told me that his mother had known of his intention to marry me and even told me she was planning a party for us.
The truth was she hadn’t known about us. Moreover, she wasn’t happy with our marriage to the extent she had made up the story about the crisis at the Pride. She had purposely interrupted our honeymoon. The previous evening, she’d tried to intimidate me.
Yet, she was his mother.
Goldie’s words echoed in my head, “Don’t come between a man and his mother.”
I leaned back in my chair and glanced around the room. Everything seemed surreal. This was now my home. I just had to find a way to make it feel like home.
“There you are.” Matt walked into the room. He wore a black and olive striped short
-sleeve shirt with tan trousers and his work boots. He was going to the Pride. It wasn’t a surprise. He had told me he needed to get back to work. “I have let things go for the last few weeks.”
I swallowed my disappointment. Rising, I accepted Matt’s hand to help me up.
He leaned down and gave me a light kiss. “Good morning, Mrs. Pritchard.”
I frowned. “I wanted to make you breakfast, but Mrs. Holbrook insisted I leave the kitchen.”
He smiled broadly. “Woman, I love you.” He kissed me again. “You will have plenty of mornings to make breakfast.”
“But I don’t know what I’m expected to do.”
“Mother will help you until I get home. Why don’t you surprise Goldie this afternoon? Take the car. You don’t have to rush into taking over responsibilities of running the house.”
I felt my spirits lift on the suggestion. Then the realization struck me I had never driven a car, only a truck. “I haven’t….” My words faded. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a figure in the doorway. I turned on her entrance and met her dark sober eyes. There was no sympathy or compassion in them. They betrayed her dislike for me with a long cold stare.
My nervousness returned.
“Breakfast is ready,” Mrs. Pritchard said. “Mrs. Holbrook has gone all out this morning. I hope you are hungry.”
The meal was awkward. The food was delicious. At least, it looked scrumptious. I wasn’t hungry. I kept moving the eggs around on my plate.
“I was thinking, Cady Blue,” Mrs. Pritchard said, “that it would be nice to invite your family over for dinner this weekend.”
I placed my fork down. I was touched. “Goldie will be so pleased.”
“I’m sorry, dear.” She grimaced. “I was referring to the Reeves.”
Immediately, I looked at Matt. My heart skipped a beat.
He shook his head. “Mother, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Cady Blue feels Goldie and Dickie are her family…The Reeves were the reason…”
“I know.” Mrs. Pritchard waved him off. “We need to put out fires, son.”
Mrs. Pritchard looked at me closely, watching my expression. I had the impression she had carefully chosen this moment and wanted to see the effect on me. I realized that she did believe I was slow and could be manipulated to her will.