"I'm so sorry little one." Adeline covered her face with both hands and sobbed quietly, rocking back and fourth in the chair.
She'd bide her time, and as soon as she was able she would run. Billy would never see her again. Even if she ended up at Mae's brothel, anything was better than existing in this hovel in Memphis with the man who's shabby treatment of her had resulted in her baby's death.
Adeline knew Jolene was Billy's lover, and it didn't bother her. As a matter of fact, she was almost sad when she overheard Billy and Jolene in a drunken argument and the woman left, telling him she was through and never returning. With Jolene gone, Adeline feared Billy would keep her under closer scrutiny.
It was late, sometime between midnight and dawn. Cold wind blew without resistance through the gaps in the small window and under the doorway. Shivering under the thin blanket, Adeline tried her best to sleep, but the icy room showed no sign of warming. Finally not able to withstand it, she got up and lay down on the floor, closer to the ebbing fire in the small hearth.
From another room, there was a loud crash followed by two men arguing, and Adeline slid closer to the hearth trying her best to ignore the now-common ruckus. Billy and whoever he played cards with would usually end up arguing and, more times than not, throwing punches. Afterwards, the one who managed to defeat the other would leave with the spoils of their game. How sad that this was her life now. The already-shabby house was practically destroyed by their scrambles.
A yelp sounded, followed by laughter and then an eerie silence.
Seconds turned into minutes, and Adeline strained to hear, but didn't dare go see what happened. She kept her distance from inebriated men, a useful lesson she learned from living with her father. She heard the scrambling of feet, followed by an immediate cooling of the house. They'd left and not closed the front door. Low moans came from the front room. One of the men must have remained behind. Cold wind whistled as it slid toward her. Why didn't he close the damn door?
The house grew quiet, and Adeline waited until she couldn't take the icy room any longer. With the blanket wrapped securely around her, she tiptoed to the doorway, pushed the door open, and peered into the front room.
Near the brick hearth, Billy lay sprawled on the floor. Beneath his head, a dark red puddle grew larger and larger.
Adeline must have screamed for hours, until her throat became so raw she finally had to stop. Someone had wrapped another blanket around her shoulders. A number of people were in the house, some just standing around staring at Billy, who remained on the floor.
"I need to ask you some questions, ma'am," a deep voice said. "I am Sheriff Miller." The man crouched down and his kind eyes met hers. "Mrs. Johnson, can you tell me who was here with your husband tonight?"
Adeline shuddered, and she raised her eyes to meet the sheriff's again. "Pruitt. My name is Adeline Pruitt."
Something flickered in the sheriff's face, his eyes narrowed at her and then shifted to Billy. "All right, Miss Pruitt, can you answer the question?"
Although she'd never gotten to know the men who spent time with Billy, she'd overheard them enough to know their names. She told the sheriff about Jolene and how she'd been there earlier and argued with Billy. Lastly, Adeline told the sheriff about the men arguing and the fight. Sheriff Miller was silent the entire time seeming to take mental notes as she spoke.
"That's everything I know," Adeline told him. "I don't know anything more."
The sheriff reached for her and hesitated, but finally he patted her shoulder in an awkward gesture, as he appeared to want to say something else to her. Instead he watched silently as Billy's body was taken.
When the sheriff went to speak to the landlord, who'd walked up just as Billy was carted out, and Adeline strained to hear the conversation. Both men regarded her and then bent their heads together to speak again.
The landlord was the oldest man Adeline had ever seen, and his back was hunched. He shuffled to her, his white, bushy eyebrows pinched together with concern. "Miss Pruitt, Sheriff Miller assured me what happened was none of your fault." He scanned the room, probably taking in all the destruction, but didn't say anything about it. "You're paid up for another ten days. After that..." He didn't have to finish.
Adeline nodded. "I understand, thank you, Mister..."
"Earnest Barnaby," the landlord told her. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll see about getting the front door patched, and then I'll be on my way."
For the first time, Adeline noticed the front door hung lopsided. Whoever had left after killing Billy must have torn the door off one of its hinges in their haste to get away.
A solemn Jolene came and helped her clean the bloodstain. From the sheen in her eyes, Adeline took that she'd cared for Billy. After Jolene left, Adeline sat in the front room and stared at the bright fire in the wood-burning stove. Several neighbors had brought over firewood and some food. She ate a hearty stew and drank strong tea. It was probably the best meal she'd had since she'd come to Memphis.
In the middle of the table was a small coffee tin where Billy had stashed what was left of the money he'd won at poker games. Surely he'd not blown it all drinking and gambling. Adeline put her cup down and reached for it.
There was enough money for her to return home.
A sad smile curved her lips upward slightly. Where was home? Which place did she belong most? Texas or Virginia?
Both elbows on the table, Adeline covered her face with her hands at the realization her meager options were not good. Virginia held nothing for her, but if she returned to Texas, Jackson in all probability wanted nothing to do with her, and she wasn't sure she would ever trust him anyway.
Ten days. She had less than two weeks to plan the rest of her life.
"Your room is ready, Mr. Pruitt." The woman's smile and the sweep of her lashes were an open invitation for more than hospitality. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long, but we wanted to ensure it was cleaned up good for you."
Jackson had not minded the wait. He'd been in town for two days already, going down street after street searching for any sign of Adeline. After so many days sleeping out of doors, he needed a room where he could clean up and get some rest. As soon as he finished his meal, he'd do just that. "Can you have a bath set up please?" He asked then turned his attention to the front door.
He spotted the familiar face before the man's gaze locked to him. With a flicker of recognition, the man made his way to his table. The reception clerk watched on with open curiosity as the sheriff leaned closer.
"Mr. Pruitt, can you come outside please? I have something to talk to you about."
Apprehension bound a tight grip round Jackson's chest, and his heart began to pound as he followed the man outside. Jackson had spoken to Sheriff Miller when he first arrived in town to inquire about Adeline. Had something happened to her? They exited the hotel and walked for a few feet before the sheriff turned and gave Jackson his full attention.
"A man was killed just a few hours ago. I believe you know him. The name is Billy Johnson." Sheriff Miller's concerned-filled eyes met his. "I spoke to the hotel clerk and the woman who cleaned the room. Both assured me you've been here for the better part of the evening. I had to check before I could give you the news. I know where your wife is."
Jackson opened his mouth, but could not form any words. Sheriff Miller seemed to understand his stunned silence.
"She's fine, just a bit shaken up. Seems Mr. Johnson was killed in a fight inside their dwelling. We're holding several suspects, thanks to Mrs. Pruitt's statement."
"Where is she?" Jackson asked, already eyeing the stables where his horse was kept. "How far?"
"I'll walk with you," Sheriff Miller replied, and motioned across the street with his arm. "It's about a ten-minute walk."
Jackson wanted to argue, to sprint to his horse and go to Adeline quickly, but he held back when the sheriff cleared his throat. "Mr. Pruitt, it's obvious the lady's been through a lot. Let's take our time walking ther
e, so you don't burst in and make things worse for her. Think about what you need to say and do. She might be in shock and not able to cope with your sudden appearance well. You need to be prepared."
Jackson closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm not sure I can ever be prepared enough to beg her to forgive me."
Sheriff Miller didn't ask for specifics. Hands in his pockets, he began to walk with Jackson alongside in silence.
Chapter Seventeen
Neither he nor Sheriff Miller spoke for the few minutes it took to get to an aged lopsided shanty. "Have you thought about what you're going to say?" the lawman asked.
The entire walk, Jackson had spent processing different scenarios after Adeline opened the door. Each time he considered what his first words to her should be and still he was at a loss. "I have no idea," he finally admitted. "I'm just going to give her some space and allow her to adjust to my presence I suppose."
A slight curve at the sheriff's lips, told he'd responded correctly. "I'll wait a few minutes just to be sure all is well and then I'll be on my way." The man took a breath as if to say something, but instead stuck his hand out. After they shook hands, the sheriff walked across the street and leaned on a tree within earshot and waited for Jackson to approach the front door.
Jackson's hand shook when he lifted it, his knuckles barely made a sound when he rapped on the feeble excuse for a door. No one answered or came to open it to allow him inside. He knocked again louder the second time and waited. Jackson glanced across the street to find Sheriff Miller regarding something past the house in thought. Jackson pounded a bit harder and he thought the door would fall in. If Adeline didn't open the door he would kick it in, sheriff or no sheriff.
The door creaked as if someone leaned on it.
"Who is it?" A weak voice asked.
"Adeline?" Jackson replied, his voice louder than he'd expected. "It's me, Jackson, please open the door."
There were few moments of silence and Jackson glanced to where the sheriff stood before speaking again "It's me, Jackson. Adeline, please open the door."
It took all his willpower to not shove the door open when it cracked just a few inches. Adeline didn't peer out, instead she stood away from it not responding, her blank stare downward cast.
"I'm coming in. It's just me okay?"
There was no reply.
Jackson pushed the door wider. He was greeted by the site of a pile of blankets next to a fireplace on one side of the room. On the other side a makeshift kitchen with a small uneven table and two rickety chairs.
A frail woman stood next to a doorway into another room. She had her arms wrapped around a too thin body, her back to him. With her face turned just enough to stare into the fire, it gave Jackson just enough time a catch a small glimpse of the face.
The sad figure trembled under his perusal. Was this his Adeline? He took a step closer and her anxious eyes snapped to him. There was no mistaking the deep green pools. Although dimmer now they remained beautiful.
But this was not Adeline, how could it be in a few short weeks she could become the pathetic creature standing before him shaking and huddling further toward the fire.
Jackson finally reached her and lifted his hand toward her. Adeline shrunk further into the corner as if seeking whatever safety the hovel could offer.
"Adeline, I've come to take you home." Jackson spoke softly, not wanting to startle her. He feared she'd try to run away. Although in her current state, he didn't think she could get very far. Her sunken cheeks made her large eyes engulf her entire face. Her once rosebud lips were dry and cracked, her hair was now a tangled disaster. He noted she wore a long gown of some type, the ill-fitting grimy garment hung sadly on her skinny frame.
There was no spark of recognition and for a moment Jackson wondered if perhaps he was mistaken. Guilt tore through him when his poor wife, who'd obviously, been through so much turned away and stared into the fire again.
"Home?" She finally whispered not turning to him. "Texas or Virginia?"
"Texas." Jackson told her and took another step closer.
"Oh," Adeline replied and crumpled to the floor.
She'd passed out. Jackson picked her light figure up and carried her the entire way to the hotel. He refused the sheriff's offer to help, when he reappeared, not wanting to chance Adeline waking to find herself with yet another stranger.
When he arrived at the hotel, Jackson rushed to his room after asking the hotel clerk to send someone for a doctor. Ever so gently, he laid the limp woman on the bed and watched over her. His eyes brimmed with tears until they overflowed and one slid down his cheek. What had his poor wife been through?
He went to touch her, but stopped when her eyes jerked open. She did not react to his presence and somehow oblivious to her new surroundings. Instead of looking at him, she focused past him to stare at the flames in the fireplace.
The hotel clerk knocked and Jackson stepped out into the hallway to ask for more hot water since the bath water he'd ordered earlier was now cold. He also told the clerk to send the doctor straight upstairs upon his arrival.
As soon as the clerk made his way back towards the lobby, Jackson stepped inside the room and found Adeline sitting on the floor, huddled by the fireplace, her blank gazes still locked to the flames. He sat in a chair and watched over her, without talking. He'd let her be until the bath arrived.
After Jackson ensured the water was the perfect temperature, he took great pains to be gentle in his approach to her.
"Adeline, I'm going to help you bathe, all right?" He lifted her to her feet and she fell against him. "Let's get you out of these dirty clothes." She remained motionless as he slid the discolored and tattered nightgown down from her thin shoulders, he lifted her and took her to the waiting bath.
He bathed his wife with extreme care. His movements gentle and slow not wanting to scare her. The entire time, he spoke to her softly about arbitrary subjects in hopes of keeping her at ease. He told her about Peggy Ann praying for her and how the first snow had yet to fall in Four Winds. She didn't speak, but her eyes followed his every motion, the only reaction was closed eyes and a sigh when he washed her hair and rinsed it repeatedly. Afterwards, he carried her out of the bathtub closer to the fireplace and dried her hair.
Tears threated again at the site of his once curvy wife now so emaciated. Her hipbones stuck out emphasizing her concave stomach. Keeping his eyes on her face, he placed a new dressing gown over her head and carried her to the bed. Once she was settled on the pillows, Jackson set about feeding her some chicken broth with pieces of bread. She ate but a couple bites before her eyes began to droop.
He used a leftover small tub of tepid water to wash up and waited for the doctor to arrive.
Once the doctor came, Jackson paced by the fireplace while the older man examined Adeline. Not surprising, the doctor pronounced her malnourished and in shock. Jackson watched as the man gave her a couple of drops of remedy and then placed a vial and dropper on the night table.
Adeline began to tremble under the doctor's ministrations; the appearance of a new person was no doubt more than she was prepared for. Finally done, the doctor beckoned a reluctant Jackson from the room. When the door closed, the physician spoke in a quiet tone. "Your wife will need a lot of rest Mr. Pruitt. Ensure she takes a drop of serum, twice a day. I suggest you remain here for a few days, get her well fed and give her time to get a bit stronger before you travel to Texas.
"What about the baby?" Jackson asked. The elderly man shook his head sadly at his question. "Mrs. Pruitt is no longer pregnant. I'm sorry."
At Jackson's silence, the doctor gave him an understanding grim smile. "I will stop by in a couple of days to check on her." He walked away while Jackson stood outside the room for a few moments. Tears accompanied by a clenching in his chest threatened to take over. After a shaky breath, he squared his shoulders. This was not the time to lose control; right now his Adeline needed him. Questions assailed him. Was Adeline aware of losing
the baby? Would he know when and how to tell her?
Once back inside the darkened room, he could barely keep his eyes open and realized how exhausted he was. Yet he was reluctant to sleep. More than anything right now, he owed Adeline to watch over her, to protect her and ensure for her safety and health. It had always been his task as her husband, yet what he had done instead was fail her in every way possible.
A yawn escaped him and he began to undress. After folding his clothes and placing then on a chair, he slipped into bed next to his slumbering wife. He ensured to leave distance between them not wanting to make Adeline uncomfortable. But when she whimpered in her sleep, he couldn't help but to draw her into his arms and hold her. Adeline let out a soft sigh and snuggled against him continuing to sleep.
Things were different but familiar at the same time. Adeline recognized the scent of the man who held her, the sound of his rhythmic breathing and the comfort of his arms. Yet it was like a dream, a hazy illusion she could not move from. Not that she wanted to, she would revel in this temporary haven for as long as possible. If only she never woke but instead remain in this beautiful fantasy forever.
Adeline took a deep breath and delved further into her dream state. A picture of a sunny day came into view. She sat on a blanket and watched as Jackson waded in knee-deep water. He carried a toddler and bent down to allow the child to splash in the water. The child's gurgles of laughter intermingled with Jackson's deeper voice as father and child enjoyed the moment.
As if on queue they both turned to her and she waved to them. Two sets of identical cornflower blue eyes met hers before they returned to their game. Happiness so complete filled her when she raised her smiling face to the sky. The scene continued to unfold, and she joined them at the waters edge enjoying their antics.
A jostling dragged her from the dream. "Mrs. Pruitt wake up now, you have to eat."
Where The Four Winds Collide Page 12