Rush

by Jayme Mansfield

  “It’s me, Louisa. Come back to life, according to some.”

  “Mother, Tuck was about to tell us why he came all the way here.”

  “Ain’t it obvious? To find my wife and son. A man has a right to his family. No one can argue against that. Ain’t that right, Louisa?”

  Mother glared at Tuck. “How about telling us the full reason?” Her frail body stiffened. “There was a time in my life I liked you, Tuck Roberts, proud to call you son-in-law. But when your life turned sour, you rotted away with it.”

  Tuck smirked, apparently devoid of any obvious guilt for his motives. “According to the law, since I’m obviously not dead, the land Mary claimed belongs to me, being head of the household.”

  “How dare you! You think you can—” I lunged forward, only inches from his face before Daniel pulled me back.

  “Take what belongs to me? Looks like you have plenty of good things going your way, and I got nothing.” Tuck staggered sideways.

  “You’re drunk … like you always were. I want no part of you, and nothing I have belongs to you.” Like fire lashing out from a pit, the words came from a place deep and wounded, intent on destroying anything they could reach.

  He laughed—a sick and cackling sound—as if he had gone mad. “There’s not much you can do since the law is what it is. Got me some legal advice before making the trip this way. Your marriage this morning was nothing but an act since you’re still bound by the law to me.”

  Bart stepped forward and spoke up. “I’m afraid your legal counsel was incorrect, and your logic is misguided. Once Mary was a widow, she became the head of the household. She registered for the race in her name and signed the deed of ownership under her name as well. She married Daniel under the honorable impression of being a widow for more than a year.”

  “But I’m not dead, and there lies her problem,” Tuck shot back.

  “Mary, did you ever receive a certificate of death or any statement that your husband was deceased?” Bart narrowed his eyes, confirming the seriousness of the situation.

  “I can’t remember. It was such a difficult—”

  “Mr. Reid,” Mother said. “I have the document. Sheriff Murphy gave it to me the day he came to my house and told us about Tuck. It’s signed and dated.” She turned to me. “Mary, you were upset, and I didn’t want to make matters worse. It was put with my other papers and kept in my closet. One of my friends back home could mail it to us.”

  “Even if that’s true and you have the paper, Murphy forged it.” Tuck began to shake, and tears filled his eyes. “More than anything, I want my wife and son back.”

  All of us stood silent as the distraught Tuck held his face in his hands and wept. When he settled down, I asked if he would speak with me privately for a few minutes.

  Daniel remained nearby, but the others walked toward the yard, following the melody of the fiddle as the notes carried over the plains.

  It was surreal to talk with someone who was supposed to be permanently gone from my life. There would remain a small, reserved place for Tuck with the other fond memories that made up the past. To some extent, even the drinking and lonely nights when he didn’t come home and had most likely found temporary love in another woman’s arms had been forgiven. My head swirled with confusion and ambiguity in a vain attempt to make sense of his return.

  Looking at him now, I tried to find a glimmer of the old Tuck—the one from when we were first married—in those once wide, brown eyes. But somewhere between the drink, his lustful wanderings, and a false sense of striking it rich with little or no hard work, he had fallen into an abyss that was too deep to ascend. Together, my eyes, mind, and heart tried to make sense of the tattered and weathered man I once believed would be in my life forever. “What happened to you, Tuck? You aren’t the man I knew. Not on the inside or the outside.”

  He shot me a stern glance, and his cheek twitched. For a moment, it seemed possible he would be bold—or ignorant—enough to harm me. But then his face relaxed, and a crooked smile appeared. “You always were the better of the two of us. Strong and determined you were.”

  “I tried to do what was right.” My throat tightened at the memories. “I was faithful, and you weren’t. You left your family like a coward, and it looks like the drink and your false dreams got the better of you.”

  Tuck put one hand in his pocket while his other arm remained limp. “Whiskey makes a man do things he shouldn’t. Those other women kept me warm, that’s all. But my dreams were real. If it hadn’t been for you and the boy, I would have left sooner. Yep, woulda caught the lodes before they were emptied … been a wealthy man by now.”

  It was surreal standing in the field with Tuck, adorned in my wedding finery like a shiny pearl, and longing to be loved by the man I had married just hours ago. “Tuck Roberts, I don’t love you and never will again. You need to go.”

  He stared into the distance as though my words had far to travel to transcend his distanced heart. After several minutes, he spoke. “Earl’s needing help farming in California. You remember my old friend, don’t ya?”

  The name was vaguely familiar, but maybe this was another of Tuck’s misguided notions.

  He glanced around. “More fertile than this godforsaken land.”

  “So why exactly did you come here?”

  “Guess to see it with my own eyes. Pathetic. To think you left Adair for this.”

  “That’s why you came? Not even to see your son?”

  He rubbed his scraggly beard as he kicked at the dirt. “Yeah, to see him too.” He glanced toward the house and the gathering of people. Fiddle music drifted over the open field as laughter and friendly talk weaved its way through the notes. “Seems like he has a good life here. You’re a good mother. Knew how to keep loving even after the twins …” His voice trailed off as he again stared into the distance—perhaps the clouded and painful past.

  My emotions were battling within me. More than anything, I wished this to be a disappearing nightmare. “I’ll be sure to tell Wesley you love him, but you have to be on your way with the next train.”

  “I need to see him one more time. Gotta tell him myself that I love him. He needs to know his father isn’t all bad.” His voice was strained, and he sounded sincere. “Just for a few minutes, and then I’ll be gone.”

  I looked to Daniel for his approval. He had become strangely silent but nodded his consent.

  “Agreed. But only for a short time.” My heart ached, wondering if this was the right decision. “He’s confused and scared. What do you suppose he’s thinking after going through losing his father, just to have it happen again?”

  I started to walk away to get Wesley, but then turned and faced Tuck. “And our marriage. It needs to be ended legally.”

  “You mean a divorce? We’ll see about that. Maybe I still love you and don’t want one.”

  “You were dead to me, Tuck!” My hands cupped over my heart, the only thing possible to protect it. “I loved you once, but you threw that love in my face. And in your son’s face. I married Daniel today. We love each other. He loves Wesley like a father should.” Tears came again. “This is my … our home now, our future. It’s not yours, Tuck. This isn’t what you want. I’m not what you want.”

  He was quiet for a long moment. “That’s it? This is how our story ends?” He smiled a brown-stained, crooked-tooth smile. “But you always liked happy endings in all those books you read.”

  “I still do. But you’re not my happy ending.”

  When we walked into the yard, the music stopped. Except for the children who continued to play, the rest of the party stared at us. This would make for lively dinner talk for weeks to come.

  With Wesley close by my side, the three of us went into the house. In his own awkward way, Tuck did his best to explain things. My son nodded several times as if trying to understand. When Tuck opened his arms, Wesley fell onto his chest. He held his son until Wesley wiggled free and took my hand.

  I sw
allowed hard and searched for the right words before walking Tuck out the front door and onto the same path from which he had arrived like an apparition.

  “You look like you could use some food. Here, let me get you—”

  “I’m fine.” He ran his fingers over a mangy beard. “Better get back to town and be on a train headed further west by tomorrow’s end. Got some extra time before helping Earl. Just may find what the others have missed. Must be plenty of gold still hidden in the hills.” He cupped his hand to his ear. “I hear it calling my name.” He took my hand, lifted it, and kissed the tip of my fingers. “Take care of yourself and my boy.”

  As he turned and walked away, there was only one last thing to say. “Tuck Roberts. Take care of yourself as well.”

  Tuck raised his hand in the air and continued walking until Daniel ran past me and stopped alongside him. Their voices were out of range, but nods and a handshake were shared before Tuck ambled away and disappeared in the distance.

  “What was that about?” My arm slipped under Daniel’s, and my head leaned into his shoulder.

  “Had to thank him.”

  “For what?” This day continued to be full of surprises.

  “For trusting me to take care of you and Wesley. The man’s clearly had a hard life, mostly by his own doing. But at least on some level, he realizes it.” Daniel turned toward me. “He knew he would never be able to be the husband and father you and Wesley deserve.”

  “He said all that?”

  “Some of it, but I did tell him Bart was taking care of the paperwork to dissolve the marriage and would have him sign before he leaves town. Also promised him a little incentive money if he makes sure to stop by the law office before hopping a train. Bart’s having his father contact the justice of the peace in Adair to assure everything is taken care of and see what needs to be done on that end—just in case Tuck ever changes his mind and decides to stir up trouble.”

  “For some reason, I believe his leaving this time is forever.”

  “You’re probably right. Even though I don’t really know him, when a man turns his back and walks away like he did, he’s already closed and locked the door to that part of his life. The way he shook my hand, he threw away the key as well.”

  As we returned to the reception and our guests in the yard, we held hands.

  “Forever is a long time, my love.” I stopped and gazed into Daniel’s eyes, silhouetted by the colors beginning to brush across the sunset sky.

  “Forever and a day is even more, and I plan to spend it all with you.” He pulled me closer, and we kissed to the music of the fiddle and the distant laughter of those who had become our family and friends.

  CHAPTER 44

  Mary ~ Future, November 22, 1894

  After the wedding, I convinced Mother to stay until the end of November when winter would deliver its first breath of cold air. The soddy was clearly too small for the four of us. Fortunately, the Cooleys offered an extra room with a comfortable bed for my mother. Wesley even spent a few nights at the ranch house, allowing Daniel and me time to enjoy easing into our marriage.

  Daniel had already spent time sketching plans for additions to the sod house. A separate room for our bed and a studio space would expand to the east. Wesley would sleep in the main area near the stove so he would easily stay warm on bitter cold nights. Daniel and I would have to keep each other warm without a stove nearby—a welcomed inconvenience.

  Before the expected snows would arrive sometime in early December, we enjoyed rocking side by side in the cool, late autumn air. The suffocating heat of summer had lifted like a blanket tossed aside. Now, the dried grasses danced in the field.

  “While we’re at it, should we build another room?”

  Daniel looked pensive. “For your mother? Have you talked with her about staying?”

  “Not really. I mentioned it a few times, but she said she’d miss her house and garden. Besides, she has plenty of friends, and the store owners tell her she can work for them as much as she’s up to it.”

  “Then she’ll have to visit more often. The trains are coming through all the time. This big country is getting smaller by the day.”

  My own thoughts kept me quiet until Daniel spoke, “Then why another room if your mother isn’t …” His eyes widened. “You’re—”

  My hands went to my stomach. “It’s too early to know for sure. But I think so.” I leaned back in my chair. “We’ve never really talked about having our own child, have we?”

  “No, we haven’t.”

  “I’m getting old, Daniel. What if I can’t carry a—”

  “Mary, if God’s giving us a child, it will be a blessing beyond my wildest dreams.” He knelt in front of me and laid his head in my lap. “But if He doesn’t, just having you and Wesley is more wonderful than I ever imagined.”

  *****

  We celebrated Thanksgiving around Stanley’s large dining room table, set with Flora’s elegant china, crystal goblets, and silver flatware.

  “She would be happy to see everything looking so perfect.” Stanley kissed Anna on the top of her head. “She loved pretty things, just like her daughter.” He sat proudly at the head of the table. Before we began eating, he shared a prayer of thanks.

  “I’m beginning a tradition in my home.” He surveyed the eight of us gathered around the table. “Before we enjoy this lovely meal, each of us has to share something we are thankful for.” He nodded at Nate to begin.

  “I’m thankful that the livestock are healthy, and it looks like we’ll have a profitable year.” Nate poked his brother to follow.

  “I’m thankful for Susan Billings. She’s the cutest thing that’s arrived in the county in a long time.”

  “And she has her eyes on you too,” Nate chimed in, making us all laugh.

  Mother was next, and she seemed determined to hold back the tears. “I’m thankful for all of you—for making me feel like part of the family. Daniel, I thank the Lord you came into my daughter and grandson’s lives. And, Mary …” Her eyes moistened. “You have grown from the daughter of my dreams to my closest companion and friend. You’ve reminded me, in the words of the Lord, to forget those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.”

  “I’ve never forgotten that verse, Mother, and I still have the note you gave me.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Life is to live, and I thank the Lord for you every day.”

  “Touching, Mary.” Stanley tapped the table as if to keep order of the proceedings. “Is that all you want to say?”

  I shook my head, and through my own tears and sniffles, added how much I loved everyone at our table and thanked God for blessing each of us.

  “This wasn’t intended to be so emotional,” Stanley growled and pointed at Daniel. “You’re next, so help me out with this.”

  “I’d like to say I’m most thankful for the twelve cattle you gave us for our wedding gift, and of course I am, but …” Daniel hesitated. “What I’m most thankful for is my wife, and …” He leaned over and placed his hand on my stomach. “Our new addition—set to arrive in early summer.”

  “Praise God.” Mother held her napkin to her mouth and began to weep.

  “That’s the most wonderful news yet. Congratulations to the three of you.” Stanley nodded at Wesley who was smiling ear to ear. “That deserves a toast.”

  We raised our glasses, and the soprano clink of the crystal brought music to our ears.

  “Now the children. What do you have to share?” Stanley nodded at Wesley.

  “I was going to say Anna ’cause she’s my best friend. And I love the puppy you brought me, Mr. Cooley.” He scrunched his lips together as if in deep thought. “And I’m still thankful for those two things, but I’m excited now that I get to be a big brother.”

  Before it was Anna’s turn, she slid off the chair and disappeared into another room.

  “What in the world is she doing?” Stanley leaned to the side, straining to
see the whereabouts of his daughter.

  Anna reappeared, half carrying and half dragging a large picture frame until she leaned it against the wall next to her father’s chair.

  I nudged Daniel. “Did you have something to do with this?”

  He winked but didn’t answer.

  “I’m thankful you gave me Mama’s paints and brushes.” She stepped to the side of the frame. “It’s for you, Pa.”

  No one spoke. We were all mesmerized by what we saw. Slowly, we left our seats and gathered around the painting. It was the ranch house and barn. On the porch was the row of rocking chairs, one occupied by a man in a brown hat. Next to him sat a little girl with dark, bouncy hair.

  “That’s me and you.” She pointed to the chairs. “There’s Wesley riding the pony, and Nate with the cows.”

  “Look,” I said. “That’s me reading a book on a picnic blanket, and there’s Daniel painting at his easel in the field.”

  “Where am I, Anna?” Ben came closer to get a better look. “Oh, that’s me on the wagon. Probably going to town to see Susan.”

  A blue sky with puffy white clouds filled the space around a tall windmill, and the rooster weathervane pointed to the west. Cows, horses, goats, chickens, dogs, and even a horse with long ears that I figured must be Jim, filled the painting. A creek ran along the bottom. Along its banks, dots of blue, yellow, pink, and orange paint covered the canvas with flowers. To the side, Anna had signed her name.

  Stanley remained silent, too busy wiping tears from his eyes.

  “Do you like it, Pa?” Anna climbed into his lap. “Daniel taught me how to paint. You know, he’s a pretty good artist.”

  Stanley laughed and hugged his daughter. “Yes, I know that, and you have a gift like your mother. She would be so proud.”

  *****

  Like my growing belly, the number of children swelled in our tiny schoolhouse over the ensuing months. On warmer days, we spilled onto the area in front of the soddy, but most days found us packed inside with little room to move.