by Jackie Weger
Goldie didn’t have to say her name. I knew she meant Dodie. She had seen her as I had.
I shrugged. “Matt wants nothing to do with her. She’s grasping at air. You said yourself the Reeves are only aligning with us because it diverts attention away from their troubles.”
“Rightly so,” Goldie agreed. “Yet, I wouldn’t turn my back on that woman.” She grabbed her glass. “I’m going for some more tea. Do you want anymore?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
She stopped in the doorway and turned back to me. “Make it right with Otis.” Not waiting for a reply, she walked inside.
I sighed. It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about it. More like, it was hard to talk with Otis before the wedge between us. Now, it was impossible.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed movement. I got up and walked to the edge of the porch and gripped the railing. It was Otis.
The large man wore no shirt under his overalls. His hairy arms were covered in blood. I could tell on a glance he was angry. His mouth was hard.
He looked at me and frowned. “Need you. Lenny’s at his nephew’s,” he said. “One of the heifer’s calves is stuck.”
Goldie never liked calves born late in the season, but she always said, “Sometimes things don’t work out the way you want. Gotta deal with it.”
“Alright,” I said quickly. “I’ll change.”
Otis came up the steps and into the house before I made a move toward the door. He didn’t say another word.
It wasn’t hard to find something to change into. I had left my work clothes in my bureau. Shoes were another matter. I found some of Dickie’s old boots.
By the time I was ready, both Otis and Goldie were out at the barn. I filled up a bucket with water at the well before I walked inside. It felt like old times. There wasn’t time to think otherwise.
I stepped into the hay-strewn stall. The Holstein was tied up to a post. Goldie was at the head of the black and white cow, stroking her head and whispering to her. Otis’s attention was on the legs that had protruded out of the heifer’s back end.
He didn’t have to tell me what to do. Difficult births didn’t happen often but were more likely to happen with a first-time mother like this one.
Otis may have been a rough, grouchy man, but he knew animals. He had a sense about them that came from a love of the farm.
With a rope in his hands, he gestured for me to stand to the back of the cow. I waited until he plunged into the cow’s back end. He had to loop the rope around the calf’s ankles. It wasn’t easy. If it wasn’t done right, it could hurt the calf and mother.
He did it with ease, but we both knew that it didn’t mean the calf would come out alive. A live birth would be a bonus in a difficult delivery. The main objective was to save the mother.
Slinging back the ropes, he commanded, “Pull.”
Goldie came up to my side. I took one rope, she the other. We tugged with all the strength we had in us. My feet grounded into the dirt and straw, straining to get the calf out. Otis came behind us and took Goldie’s rope and she helped me with mine.
Finally, the calf popped out.
“Got the water?” Otis questioned as he leaped down beside the motionless calf.
I handed him the bucket. He immediately threw it on the calf’s head, then began clearing mucus from its mouth with his hand. He stood and grabbed the hind legs and pulled it up. Laying it back down, I saw the first signs of life. It breathed.
Stepping back, Otis untied the mother. He slapped her back. “Okay, Momma, take care of your baby.”
We stood there and watched. There had been times when a mother rejected a baby, but this heifer went right to its calf and began licking. The calf lifted its head at its mother’s touch.
A few minutes later, the calf stood on its own. We stayed there until it began to suckle its mother’s tits.
An amazing sight. Few words could describe the feeling of watching a new life being brought into the world.
“Wow, Pa, a new calf!”
“Heifer, too,” Otis responded.
I looked over my shoulder. Dickie had jumped up on the wooden rail of the stall. A huge smile plastered his face. Behind him, my heart sputtered. Matt was with him.
A sudden realization of my appearance swept through me. I was a mess, covered in all matter of bringing a calf into the world. My hair hung loose about my shoulders. I had wiped my face with the back of my hand at one point.
I caught Matt’s eyes, which sparkled with amusement. I gave him a smile.
Otis walked by me. “Good job.”
“Thanks.”
My spirits soared. I knew things would be okay between us.
Walking out of the stall, I moved toward Matt. He laughed, holding up his arms. “Oh, no, you don’t.” He laughed. “Go get cleaned up.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go wash up,” I said. “What brought you out here?”
“Well,” he said. “Someone was supposed to come back and pick up Mother and me.”
My face fell. I had the car. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I got to talking with Goldie…then the calf.”
“No problem. Mr. Reeves took Mother home. Dodie gave us a ride.”
I looked up.
There Dodie stood on the porch, looking out toward us. She smiled smugly and gave me a small wave.
A dark cloud shadowed my bright day.
Chapter 19
Envy is a sin.
The revelation overcame me that I envied Dodie. She was dressed in her Sunday finery with her hair still set most fashionably in pin curls. She sat on Goldie’s couch, legs crossed, her high heels slipping off and on her heel. I watched with the realization that I could never walk in them without tripping over my own feet. She had the elegance and poise that I wanted.
I, in turn, had bathed and slipped back into my Sunday clothes, but my hair was wet, and my clothes were wrinkled because of the haste in which I had pulled them off. I wore only lipstick. My insecurity surged in her presence.
Goldie had decided that we needed to celebrate. She wanted us to stay for dinner, which meant I would cook. I didn’t mind but was taken by surprise by Dodie’s acceptance of the invitation despite Goldie’s obvious reluctance with the offer.
I threw together some fresh vegetables, cornbread, and cooked up some chicken fried steak. The radio had been turned on and the news report of the updates of the war echoed throughout the house and out the open windows. The news was optimistic. Hope still reigned that the end was near.
Before supper was done, the news had ended, and now music played. Bing Crosby’s Swinging on a Star began while I set the food out on the table. I had no help, but seeing Goldie sitting beside Dodie on the couch, I was content to do it all myself.
Goldie wasn’t going to let Dodie near Matt. Instead, Dickie sat near her, hanging on her every word. I suspected that my brother edged on her every nerve. The thought gave me a semblance of pleasure. There again, Dodie loved the limelight. She might have enjoyed Dickie’s attention.
Supper would have been enjoyable if Dodie hadn’t been there. It was the first time we had sat as a family. Then, there was Dodie. The whole thing had been awkward.
Otis endured the meal. That was evident, but he seemed to be his old self. Gruff and curt. My husband seemed entertained and was pleasant enough, too pleasant at times. I wanted him to feel comfortable and not forced. Though, I supposed, he may have felt the same for me with his mother.
I cleared the table. This time, Dickie helped.
“I miss your cooking,” he said, setting the dirty dishes in the sink.
I believe it was the nicest thing my brother had ever said to me. I couldn’t help but smile. Before I rinsed off the plates, the back door opened. Lenny walked into the room. He looked like he had only just returned.
“The German bastard was caught,” he announced, taking off his hat. “Never figure where.”
His attention turned. Otis and Matt came into the kitch
en on the revelation. He spoke to the men, “They cornered him in Loretta Hopkins’s basement. From what I heard, it looked like he shacked up with her. Said he had nothing to do with Alfie’s disappearance.”
“Good,” Matt said. “Maybe now we can get back to normal.”
Matt’s response pertained to getting the POWs back to work. They hadn’t been allowed out of camp for fear of not only escape, but what could have happened to them by the good residents of Oak Flatt.
My reaction was for poor Loretta. Whatever could she have been thinking?
I was shocked, but not as much as it seemed Dodie was. I saw her saunter into the room. Her expression told of her disappointment. I swore she would have liked to have heard they had shot and killed the man.
Otis pulled out a jug of moonshine he always hid on the top shelf. He poured three glasses.
“Pa, can I have some?”
“Get on to bed,” Otis demanded. “Ya ain’t old enough.”
Dickie grunted. For a moment, I thought he was going to kick the door, but thankfully, he thought better of it. With his head hanging, he walked out. A minute later, I heard his door slam shut.
Otis paid him no mind. He nodded toward the porch. The other two followed, leaving me with the women.
Goldie picked up a dish towel to dry. “Reckon ya were right about the German.”
“I just feel bad for Loretta,” I said. “However is she going to get over this?”
“Not yours to be concerned about, Cady Blue. You worry too much about other people,” Goldie stated without a hint of emotion. “She dug her own grave.”
“Well, now,” Dodie broke into the conversation. “Isn’t this just lovely, but I do believe I have to be going now.”
“Do you now?” Goldie asked. “We haven’t brought out dessert yet.”
“It’s getting late,” Dodie said. “And I find myself quite full from that delicious meal Cady Blue made. It’s been a delightful evening.”
Dodie didn’t even give me time to turn around to say good-bye. She was gone.
Goldie and I looked at each other. We would have burst into laughter if not for the fact that Dodie could probably hear us from the open windows as she left.
“Do we have dessert?” I asked Goldie.
“Nope.” Goldie shook her head.
I smiled to myself and went back to the sink. It felt good to come home.
A commotion disturbed my thoughts. I heard the men mumbling, get up, and then walk off the porch. I exchanged confused looks with Goldie.
Putting my dishrag down, I followed the sounds out onto the porch along with Goldie. I saw the men look at Dodie’s front tire. I reckoned that it took the three of them to declare it flat.
I watched Otis nod and take the key from Dodie. He was going to change the tire. I pivoted around and sighed. Dodie would be here for a few more minutes. The kitchen beckoned.
Goldie didn’t come with me this time. Instead, she watched from the porch.
Busying myself until Dodie left, I began sweeping the floor after I finished the dishes. I bent down to sweep the dirt into the dustpan when the back door slammed. Looking up, I saw Otis standing there with something in his hand.
“I thought you might want to see this,” Otis motioned for me to come outside. “I don’t know what to make of it. I found it in her car when I was getting the spare out to change her tire.”
I threw the dirt into the garbage and left the broom against the wall, then walked outside. The back light was on, but I had to take a second look at it. Goose bumps erupted along my arms. I thought I recognized the child’s shoe, a well-worn brown shoe.
I swore it looked exactly like the one I had seen before…in the woods…almost a year ago.
Whatever would Alfie’s shoe be doing in the trunk of Dodie’s car?
A solemn air of disbelief consumed me. I couldn’t take my eyes off the shoe. I had to be wrong.
Out of the darkness, Matt emerged. “Did she think the same?”
Otis nodded slowly. I looked at Otis and back at Matt questionably. I was confused at their reaction.
“Shouldn’t we go to Sheriff Brawner?” I asked.
Matt shook his head. “With what?” He placed his finger over his mouth to quiet me. He said in a low voice. “We can’t talk about it here. If Goldie catches word of this, Walker is going on another hunt. Can’t have him doling out mountain justice before we have all the answers.”
“Lenny is worse,” Otis put in. “He would have Walker hunting tonight.”
“But it’s Alfie’s shoe!” I exclaimed as loud as I could in a whisper.
“We don’t know that for certain,” Matt reasoned. “Besides, if we went to the sheriff, what would it prove? He’s going to say that it could have come from anywhere. I doubt he’ll believe Otis, much less me now.”
I calmed down a tad, but my heart still pounded. “What do we do?”
“I’ll think of something, but we can’t do anything tonight,” Matt said. “Otis and I can talk in the morning over breakfast.” He glanced over at Otis. “Say around seven.”
“Yeah,” Otis said. “I’ll be there.”
“Let’s say our good-byes to Miss Goldie,” Matt said.
I nodded, but when I started toward the door, Otis stepped between us.
He handed me the shoe. “Take it to Helen,” Otis said. “She’ll know.”
“I will,” I replied, thinking how I would hide the shoe as I left. I needed to get to my purse before Goldie caught sight of it, but she was half blind. It would be easy enough, I thought with growing confidence in my plan.
Lost in my thoughts, Otis grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. “Trust no one.”
His words rang in my ears. He was looking straight at Matt.
Driving home, I sat quietly. The events over the past year flashed in muddled sequence. I shivered.
Matt was my husband. I wanted nothing more than to spend my days making a life with him, a happy vision I held in my heart. With my history, I realized, though, I would be a fool to ignore Otis’s warning.
But my husband loved me.
There again, my father was supposed to have loved and protected me. He had done neither.
Staring out into the darkness, I puzzled over the warning, but in truth, I knew exactly what Otis was saying.
He questioned why Matt married me and thought Matt had done so for a reason other than love. Had I been living in a fool’s paradise? Was I being used by the man I loved? I refused to believe it. I loved him and had sworn to be faithful to him all my life.
“Cady Blue.”
Startled, I turned to Matt. “Did you say something?”
“I don’t want you to go to Helen’s alone tomorrow. I need to figure out what’s going on,” Matt said.
“No,” I said, surprised by my refusal. I had never gone against his wishes. “Someone has to find out what happened to Alfie. If this helps…”
“We don’t know what we are dealing with,” Matt said soundly. “Let me talk with Otis.”
I stared at him for a long moment but said nothing. It would only prolong an argument that would indubitably ensue.
“We can’t go around accusing a person without just cause,” Matt continued. “There could be a million reasons why the shoe was there. Doesn’t mean it’s Alfie’s. Dodie could have donated clothing to the church, and it dropped out of the bag. Other people use the car. I’ve seen her father driving it. What if someone is setting her up?”
I wanted to say we both saw the shoe at Two Oaks. He thought it was the matching shoe when he saw it. Why would anyone set up Dodie about Alfie’s disappearance? Made no sense to me, but for that matter, neither did the shoe.
“First, we need to find out if it is the other shoe. I could go to Sheriff Brawner,” Matt said. “He has it.”
My heart leaped into my throat. “You can’t do that,” I finally managed to say. “He’ll say you had it all along. He’ll lay the blame on you. He already wants to—�
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“Alright. Alright.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. My voice quivered with the panic I felt. “Like I said. It’s best that Otis and I discuss this alone. We’ll figure it out.”
We said no more about it, but I got little sleep that night. I tossed and turned, trying to reason why a child’s shoe would be in Dodie’s car. There was no reasonable explanation.
I stared up at the ceiling, imagining scenarios. I could see if Dodie had accidentally hit Alfie while driving on the road, panicked, and put him in the car so no one would blame her. But Alfie disappeared in the woods. We found his other shoe. We found the brooch.
My mind raced. What could it all mean? Could someone be playing with us? Making us turn on ourselves? Making us cover tracks that weren’t ours? Were we seeing things that weren’t there?
Conceivably, a bear got Alfie leaving not a trace of him in the woods except for a shoe. Maybe the brooch meant nothing, like Sheriff Brawner said. It came from up the creek. Coy was grasping at straws, saying Moria’s death wasn’t an accident. Nobody wants to believe their sister killed herself.
Why then did it feel like the walls were closing in on me?
With the morning light, I decided to do as Matt suggested. I had rationalized it was more for Helen than it was anything else. There was nothing definite. It would only serve to hurt her. The poor woman had been through enough.
I must have fallen asleep at least for a time. When I rose, Matt was not in bed. Surprisingly, I found him in the pink room.
It was quiet. He stood at the window, looking out over the newly lit sky. He looked so alone like there was no one else in the world but him.
The room was in the middle of renovation. New wallpaper had been ordered. The trim was painted. Different pictures were on the wall. Fresh flowers on the end table. I wanted the room to be an escape from the world around us. Just the two of us.
He seemed unaware that the butt of his cigarette was full of ashes. I picked up an ashtray off the table and took the cigarette, extinguishing it. Placing it back down, I moved over to his side.
“Talk to me,” I urged. “Let me help.”
Looking down at me, he gave me a small smile. “You help by being here,” he said. “God knows how much I love you.”