Secrets & Charades

by Cindy Ervin Huff

  ***

  As the sun rose, Evangeline entered the infirmary. She wanted to visit with her friend before the household awoke and the charade was set into motion.

  Isabel sat with her theatrical makeup case in her lap and a mirror in her hand. Her face was transformed. The careful application of gray coloring gave a ghostly appearance. “For dramatic effect is all,” she said.

  “Looking at you now, I would say you died last week.” Evangeline helped Isabel change into a clean nightshirt. Tucking her back into bed, she looked closely.

  “What?” Isabel squirmed under her gaze.” Is something amiss?”

  “No. It’s amazing. You look—very dead.”

  Isabel’s eyes appeared sad. “Remember, you must bring Juliet first.”

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “Her genuine sorrow upon seeing me dead will help with the pretense.”

  Evangeline dreaded upsetting the child. “I wish there was another way.”

  “Wishes are like fairy dust. They do nothing for our real lives. My friend, I truly believe everything will be fine.”

  Evangeline went to join the others at the table.

  “How is Señor Artie?” Selena’s somber expression spread to the others.

  “It won’t be long, I’m afraid,” Evangeline said.

  “May I go see him?” Juliet played right into the drama. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Go ahead, but don’t stay long.” Jake’s voice gave nothing away.

  “I’ll go with her.” Evangeline hugged Juliet to her as they walked into the room together. The girl stared at her friend who was covered up to her neck in blankets with her eyes closed. Juliet started to step toward the bed, but Isabel’s appearance drove her from the room.

  Evangeline closed the door and followed Juliet through the dining room into the kitchen. Selena, her arms elbow deep in dishwater, turned at the sound of Juliet’s sobs. The housekeeper wrapped her soapy arms around the girl. Juliet seemed to take little notice of the wet embrace as her tears dampened Selena’s shoulder.

  “Mi pequeño, por favor no llores. Dios está en control de todo,” Selena cooed.

  “If God is in control, why is Artie dying?” Juliet pushed away and ran out the door.

  Evangeline’s heart ached at the deception.

  Selena looked her way as the screen door creaked, and Manny came in. “I hear Artie is bad.” His eyes were full of tears. “Me Puedo despede mi amigo?”

  “Say your good-byes, mijo, then go back to work. Work is the best thing for sadness.”

  Manny went to see Artie and in a short time, came out wiping his tears, not looking at his mother as he left the house.

  Around mid-morning, Isabel was in pain. Evangeline had refused to give her any laudanum, not knowing how it would interact with the strange drug she would be taking.

  “The pain only makes my death more believable, I suppose.”

  Selena knocked on the door. “Señor Duke and Señor Tony are here.”

  “Give me a few minutes before you let them in,” Evangeline said.

  “I am ready now for the final act. Administer the potion,” Isabel said in a brave voice.

  “May we pray first?”

  “Of course.” Isabel led the prayer, and Evangeline added her agreement, drawing courage from her friend.

  Taking the bottle from her bag, she placed exactly two small drops on Isabel’s tongue. She put the bottle away, then leaned down and kissed her friend on the hand. “Thank you for your help and friendship in this strange place. I will see you soon, Lord willing.” She wiped a tear from her face as she let the men in.

  Duke and Tony said nothing. Evangeline’s tears and Selena’s expression must have fueled their heavy hearts. She remained quiet as the men paid their last respects. Isabel’s moans drew the men to the bedside. This time, there was no acting—the pain and the strangeness of the drug had captured her body and mind. Her speech labored, she fought hard to sound like Artie. “Hey, glad to see ya.”

  “Hey, amigo, what you go and get shot for?” Tony’s lighthearted attempt fell flat.

  Duke struggled to find his voice. “I wanted to say … I wanted … thanks for saving my life. I owe you one.”

  “I’ll collect someday.” As she tried to laugh, pain appeared on her face. “I need you both to promise me somethin’.”

  “Anything, kid,” Duke said.

  “First, forgive Farley and Bart.”

  The men stared at their friend, disbelief etched on their features.

  “I can’t go before my maker with any unforgiveness in my heart. I want to see you both in heaven someday. Don’t hold nothin’ against ‘em. God will bring ‘em to justice.”

  Still, the men were silent.

  Evangeline could see the request weighing on them. Isabel was wise to exact a promise. Otherwise, these men would go to any lengths to get revenge for their friend.

  “And please promise to treat my sister Isabel right when she comes. Evangeline sent her a telegram to say I was dyin’. She ain’t gonna make it to say good-bye. Tell her about me. Tell her I ain’t no thief.”

  Duke found his voice. “Sure thing.”

  Tony leaned against the wall. “Ah, my little friend, you know I am always nice to the señoritas.”

  “You’d better be nicer than that.” Isabel tried to smile through the pain.

  “Sí, I shall be the perfect gentleman.” Tony doffed his hat.

  “I’ll tell Jesus how good you both have been to me.” Isabel gasped and became very still. Duke and Tony rushed forward. Evangeline joined them.

  “He’s dead,” Duke said flatly. He stared for several seconds, turned, and left the room.

  Tony followed without a word.

  ***

  Jake met the Farleys at the gate on his return from town. “What brings you around here?”

  “We have come to pay our respects to your cattle thief. A couple of your men came to tell us he died.” Farley pointed at one of the men escorting the wagon. “I brought another of his friends.”

  Jake ignored Bart lest he say something he would regret. He suspected Bart’s motives for coming along. Artie’s death insured the man’s lies stayed hidden. Lord, I hope you got a plan to bring that hombre to justice.

  “Afternoon, Mrs. Farley.” Jake’s words were stiff and formal. “Evangeline is in the house. I’ll join you shortly.” He tipped his hat and maneuvered his horse ahead of the wagon toward the stable.

  When Jake got back to the porch, Thomas was helping Violet down from the wagon. She fidgeted with the ribbon on her bonnet, looking like she would rather be anywhere else but here.

  ***

  Evangeline’s tone was formal as she opened the door for her guests. “Violet, please come in and have some tea.”

  “Thank you, I think I shall.” Violet looked around, then at the floor. “I really do not wish to view the deceased. I shall leave that to Thomas.”

  Jake went into the room with Thomas as Bart sat in a kitchen chair.

  Evangeline had washed all the theatrical makeup off Isabel. The young woman looked quite deathlike without it. She invited Violet into the parlor.

  “Oh my, this room is breathtaking. Where did you get such beautiful fabric?”

  “Mr. Wong’s store.” She saw the uncomfortable expression on Violet’s face and was surprised she made no derogatory comment about the Chinese. Instead, she accepted the tea and said little.

  “You look pale, Violet, are you well?”

  “I am with child.”

  “Congratulations. I wish you God’s blessing with this child.”

  “You are still my friend after all my husband said about you? Your husband was so upset, he bloodied Thomas’s lip.” Violet looked frail and vulnerable, her shoulders slouched.

  Evangeline smiled tenderly to reassure her. “Yes, you are still my friend. Let’s put that behind us, shall we? Your husband is not the first man to inform me of his strong opinions on wome
n. I have learned to take those opinions, as they say, with a grain of salt.”

  “May I ask you something?” Violet placed her cup and saucer on the small table. “I understand you have stitched up the ranch hands and even tried to save Mr. Weaver. Do you know anything about childbirth?”

  “Are you asking me to help when your child comes?”

  Violet stammered. “I am … I am asking you to watch over me from now on, as a doctor would back East. I am afraid I shall lose this child. I have already miscarried twice since coming to this godforsaken place.”

  “How far along?”

  “I calculate four months.”

  “You wanted to wait to tell anyone until you felt life?”

  “Yes. I told Thomas yesterday.”

  “I am sure he is happy.”

  Violet’s lip quivered. “Actually, he told me not to get my hopes up in case … you know.”

  “When the men leave for the cattle drive, we can arrange a check-up.”

  “That’s only a week away. I can wait. Forgive me for my self-centeredness. How are you doing? I know Mr. Weaver was your friend.”

  “It is difficult, especially since he has been falsely accused.”

  “I am afraid my husband is of another opinion. But we won’t speak of it.” Violet took up her tea again.

  Farley emerged from the infirmary with Jake. “It is probably for the best your wife could not help him recover. A hanging is not a proper thing for a lady to see. With your permission, Bart would like to pay his respects.”

  “As long as he leaves his guns outside.”

  Evangeline bit her lip to keep from saying something she would regret.

  “I assure you he won’t shoot a corpse. Actually, he may not be able to shoot again. I had Javier try removing the bullet, but he only succeeded in causing further damage to the hand.” Farley stepped to the door and signaled. Bart entered, and Farley directed him to the body.

  Evangeline stepped into the room with the men and saw an expression of shame briefly pass over Bart’s face. He knelt down next to the bed, speaking softly, but she caught remnants of his words. “Hey, kid … sorry … wrong place … nothing personal.” Rising from his knees, he took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow.

  “Mr. Vickers, let me take a look at your hand.”

  “It’s fine,” Bart mumbled.

  “It is most certainly not fine. Let Mrs. Marcum look at it. Perhaps she can help.” Violet’s objection seemed to surprise everyone, including the woman herself.

  “Yes, sit in that chair and let her look at it,” Farley commanded.

  Bart obeyed with a snort.

  Evangeline took off the dirty dressing. “You have quite an infection.”

  Bart said nothing.

  “If I remove some of the infected muscle and clean the wound, we may be able to avoid gangrene. If the bullet had been removed properly, you would have been well on the mend by now.” Evangeline derived a certain amount of satisfaction scolding him.

  Again, Bart kept quiet and stared at his hand.

  Evangeline’s tone was stern. “Here are your choices. We can use chloroform, and you will be unconscious and feel no pain, or you can have something to bite down on while I work.”

  Farley spoke for the man. “He’ll take the chloroform.” He glared at Bart. “Violet is too delicate to hear your screams, as I am sure there would be.”

  “Go into the infirmary and lie down on the table,” Evangeline instructed.

  “But there’s a dead body in there,” Bart protested.

  “I’ve no place to move him until Solomon finishes the coffin.” Evangeline’s words left him no choice but to follow her.

  ***

  By the time Evangeline had finished, Bart was coming around. The Farleys had already left, leaving Bart on his own. “Is my hand gonna be better?”

  “Time will tell. I removed some tiny bone fragments. I was able to preserve most of the muscles in your hand. Your biggest problem is infection. I stitched your hand but left a small hole for the wound to drain. Get someone to change the bandage daily. I’ll give you laudanum, but use it sparingly. If it gets redder or develops a bad smell, come to me immediately.”

  “Will I be able to go on the cattle drive?” Bart’s words were emotionless, but his eyes pleaded with her.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it. Using your hand too soon or getting it dirty could result in gangrene. I’ve placed your hand on a wooden splint and wrapped additional bandaging to secure it. Keep that splint on your hand for two weeks. Our hope is the wound drains well this week.”

  Evangeline put bandaging, laudanum, and a bottle of carbolic acid in a parcel for Bart. “Cookie has the wagon ready to take you back to the Farleys’ place.” She held up her hand against his protests. “Don’t even try to ride your horse until the chloroform has completely worn off. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

  Jake escorted Bart to the waiting wagon.

  Evangeline went back to clean up the surgery table but stopped to touch Isabel. Her skin was clammy, yet warm. Too warm for someone who was supposed to be dead.

  “Lord,” she prayed. “I sure hope no one else was the wiser.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Evangeline sat at the dining table with her journal.

  May 6th

  The house is empty this morning. Juliet is helping Manny in the barn, and Selena is in her garden. It has been difficult to find the private time to give an account of the past few days while it is fresh in my mind.

  We found a place to hide Isabel. Jake’s family homestead served nicely. It is hidden in the trees, and overgrown weeds disguise the entrance.

  Artie’s coffin was laid to rest in the family cemetery yesterday much to the objection of the community. There were those who wanted his body placed on public display at the undertakers. Tony managed to deliver his cousin’s body to his family, depriving the community of the opportunity to display and photograph the local bandito in his coffin. Although it had only been a day since Artie’s death, people came from miles away for the wake, mostly the curious. It could have been a carnival sideshow the way people stared and commented.

  Mrs. Hanks was one of the few people who reached out to touch the corpse, but Duke stood guard and wouldn’t allow it. He had no idea how much he was not only respecting his friend but protecting the ruse. People really hate cattle rustlers out here. They are second only to horse thieves. I think murders come in a distant third.

  A few hours before the funeral, Jake and Cookie managed to smuggle Isabel out while she was still unconscious. The coffin was nailed shut, weighted with rocks, no one the wiser. Fortunately, the funeral was short and attended only by the Double M crew. Apparently, the curious had their fill at the wake, including the Farleys.

  Having no minister present, all the men had many kind words for Artie, and Duke tried hard to hide his tears. Bo’s emotions ranged from bitter sobs to silence. The others aren’t speaking to him because of his friendship with Bart. My heart breaks for the young man. Bo needs a friend right now. Jake sent him to check the North Slope for strays, giving him time alone to grieve.

  Instead of two, it took almost three days for Isabel to wake from the drug, leaving me frightened to the bone. Mr. Wong came at my request and reassured me she would revive soon. Isabel was rather flippant when she regained consciousness, declaring it had been her finest performance. She insisted I tell her every detail since her death scene. She delighted in it all.

  Theatrical people are an odd lot. Isabel told me although the drug paralyzed her body, her mind remained alert. She heard everything that was said around her, but could not respond. What people say to the dead intrigued her. How she could remain lighthearted about it amazes me.

  Dog is walking around rather well with only three legs. He attempted running when all the wagons came down the lane for the wake. Juliet is thrilled her friend can get around. She told everyone I performed the lifesaving surgery. A Mr. Carter approached me about seeing
to his ailing hogs. I told him I knew nothing about livestock, and I had done the surgery on the family pet only for the sake of Juliet.

  I am blessed by Jake’s encouragement to resume my medical practice. I am still not confident to begin again. I should be drawing my confidence from Jesus, but I find myself losing the battle with doubt more often than not. Besides, there is still so much to learn about this man and this place.

  It is time to tell him my secret. I am praying Jesus will show me how and the truth will be freeing as the Scripture says it is. My heart has one burning question—will Jake reject me as Richard did?

  I think I see love in his eyes. I know I see desire, but such is the way of men. I thought I could bear it if he turned from me. Had I told him my secret the first day in Hardyville, I could have. After all, I had a plan for going on alone. Now I know it would be death to my heart. Here with Jake is where I want to be. Jesus will have to give me words and wisdom.

  Evangeline paused from her writing when she heard Dog’s excited yelps. She looked out the window to see Jake riding into the yard. A smile formed on her lips as the dog circled happily around the patient Traveler. After putting her pen aside and sprinkling sand on her journal entry to dry the ink before closing the book, she rose from the dining table and quickly returned the book to her trunk.

  “Anyone home?”

  Evangeline emerged from their room. The longing in Jake’s eyes caused a flutter up the back of her spine. “Why are you here?”

  “I live here.”

  She dropped her eyes and looked about for something to busy herself. The words she had just written burned in her mind. As much as she wanted to revel in the joy of them, she condemned herself. What right did she have to be loved? Guilt wrestled with her pleasure. His closeness reminded her of the wall she struggled to tear down.

  “Can’t a man come see his wife?” Jake wrapped his arms around her. Evangeline placed her head on his shoulder to hide the emotions in her eyes. She found comfort in his habit of breathing in her scent and kissing the top of her head. Aromas of the outdoors and hard work surrounded him. “I wanted to spend time with you since I leave tomorrow.”