Miriam Penfield put two pieces of oak into the firebox of her wood-burning cookstove and closed the little door. She pushed the bean pot to the far corner of the cookstove top where the temperature would be the lowest, then put a skillet directly over the firebox and added a slab of salt pork. Salt pork and milk gravy was what Nate had always expected to eat for lunch on Saturdays. For herself, she couldn’t have cared less, but it had become a family ritual. The brown bread was steaming on the back of the stove and a blue enamel pot held brewed coffee. When her boys came in all hungry from the cold, she would be ready for them.
Her family had originally included three sons. The oldest, William, would have been close to forty if he hadn’t died in Vietnam. His picture hung in the living room mounted on a souvenir he had sent her—a map of Vietnam embroidered in red and gold glossy thread on a background of shiny black silk. He was nineteen in that picture, and he looked just like Nate had at that age, the year she had married him. It was a shrine to both of them now, for she preferred to remember Nate when he was young and their life together was just beginning.
Blake and Sonny came in from outside where they had been working on her barn. Sonny brought an armload of stovewood with him and refilled the box beside the stove. The two men sat down at the table, and Miriam served them. It never occurred to her that they might fill their own coffee cups or go to the beanpot themselves. Her life had been spent waiting on her family, and she was grateful to have them now.
Blake had plans for the afternoon and left immediately after dessert. Sonny sat at the table with his ma and pushed the last of his bread pudding around the plate. She watched his dark countenance out of the corner of her eye but said nothing, for she knew him well. When it was time, he would talk to her; that’s the way it had always been.
“Ma, I’ve got a problem,” he said at last, resting the spoon on the edge of the plate. “I don’t know what to do.”
Miriam set her coffee cup down and waited for him to go on.
“There’s this person I’d really like to be with, but I don’t know. Without a car, I can’t do anything. And even then, I’m not sure what we would do.”
“It’s not Cassie?”
“No. I don’t see Cassie anymore. She’s got somebody else. This is Shelby, the one who bought the Dayton farm.”
Miriam frowned at him. “Isn’t she already married?”
“No.”
“But isn’t she rich?”
“I suppose.”
“Sonny, that doesn’t sound right to me.”
“She’s got money, Ma, but she’s not rich like that. She was in a car accident, and she was hurt pretty bad. In fact, she’s blind.”
“Oh my.”
“She’s a nice person, and I think she’s very lonely. I like her a lot, and I think she likes me. But I don’t know what to do about it.”
“She’s the one Cassie takes care of?”
“Yes.”
Miriam sighed. “Sonny, you don’t need a blind girl who can’t do anything. You need someone who can work alongside you. You’ll be getting this farm someday and you’re going to need a wife who can work.”
Sonny turned to look at her, his dark eyes cautious. “What do you mean, I’ll be getting this farm? What about Blake and the girls?”
“Your pa wanted you to get the farm. He said you were the only farmer in the bunch. There’s land for the others, but the house and barn and eighty acres are going to be yours.”
Dawson was stunned. He had been the only one to work alongside his pa ever since he could remember, but he never thought the old man noticed or cared.
“Does Blake know?”
“No, nobody knows yet. But it’s legal and it’s in writing. In fact, to make sure it happens right, I’m planning to put it in your name real soon. All I want is that you let me live here until I die.”
Dawson’s eyes were stinging, and he fought to hold back the tears. “It’s not right, Ma. You worked just as hard as he did. Your children deserve their share.”
Miriam reached across the table and rested her hand on his. “You don’t think you’re mine? Don’t you ever think that! Blake’s got his trailer and the land it’s on and he never paid us anything for that. The girls will share the back thirty and I’m sure none of them will ever see fit to do anything with it. You’re the one who always loved the land and won’t let it go to some developer. I’m afraid Blake would sell it off in a minute, and neither your pa nor I could stomach that.”
Dawson didn’t know what to say. He had always assumed the farm would be sold and the proceeds divided five ways, if he was lucky. To own it himself was more than he had ever dared to dream. His ideas for improving the farm might actually come to fruition. “If I can get some money together, “ he said slowly, “we could get some bred heifers in the spring. Maybe get the herd back up to twenty milkers for a start. I know Buster Wyman wants to sell out half his herd.”
Miriam smiled at the immediacy of his response. “I have some money put aside from selling quilts. Don’t shake your head. I can’t think of a better way to use it. And there’s your pa’s insurance money. Don’t worry, I’ll make you pay interest. But it will get you started.”
Dawson was grinning now. He squeezed Miriam’s hand, then rose to his feet and gave her a hug. “I’ve got to get out to the barn to see what it’s going to take to repair that watering system. Thanks, Ma!”
Dawson couldn’t keep his mind on pipes and watering bowls. The farm was going to be his. Incredible. He fidgeted with the soldering iron until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to talk to someone, to tell them his good news. But who would appreciate it the most? At one time the question would never have arisen. But Cassie didn’t want to hear from him anymore. Marcia would understand what it meant to him, but Teddy was around this week, and Dawson couldn’t very well show up to chitchat with his wife. He wondered if Shelby could even realize the significance of his news, since she had simply bought a sixty-five-acre farm herself. Still, the thought of Shelby had a calming effect on him as he thought about the afternoon they had spent together on the hayride. In spite of what his ma had said, he felt a special connection with her, and he knew she would be happy for him, even if she didn’t recognize this news to be the miracle it was.
He cleaned up his tools and went into the house for his warmer clothes, then pulled out the snowmobile. Another month at most, and he would be looking for a different means of transportation. He could kick himself now for losing his license. August was a damn long time away.
The afternoon was beautifully sunny, warmer than the day he had hitched up Royal Chilcott’s team and driven over to the farm. As the snowmobile traveled over fields and along the shoulders of roads, he relived that ride with Shelby. He had never expected to enjoy it so much; he had originally conceived of it only as a means to get her out of the house where Cassie was ever-present. But she had intrigued him, and now there was so much more about her that he wanted to know. And, amazingly, she seemed to have an interest in him, responding in both words and actions with a tenderness he had never anticipated. The memory of his arm around her brought an ache to his groin. He didn’t understand her relationship with Shane, nor did he savor encountering the man again. He only know that if there was a chance she wanted to see him again as much as he wanted to see her, it would be worth facing whatever difficulties might arise.
He came up the back way where the slopes were more gentle, traveling the trails he had followed with the team that day. The big gray barn loomed straight ahead, and he made a wide swing to the right after coming through the bar gap on the far end of the rock wall. He parked the snowmobile beside the rock wall and started on foot toward the house. When he reached the barn, he heard music coming from inside – hammered dulcimer music. A lively Irish jig was being played as a duet, the distinctive harpsichord-like sound of the dulcimers ringing out the joyous dance tune. Dawson followed the sound until he reached a small window he knew to be located in one of t
he workshops.
The room was brightly lit by sunshine pouring in the large windows on the backside, and he could see two silhouettes he recognized as Shane and Shelby. They were side by side in front of two hammered dulcimers that rested on three-legged stands. Shane was standing, and Shelby was seated, and they were striking the strings with little carved hammers held in both hands. Shane’s hands were moving more rapidly than Shelby’s, and Dawson could see she was laughing as she tried to keep up. The song ended, and Shane moved over to stand behind her, reaching around to hold both her hands and move the hammers along the strings. Then he bent to kiss the top of her head, and she reached up to touch his cheek with the fingers of one hand.
Dawson turned away from the window and walked back to his snowmobile.
Neither of them was aware of his presence, and now he wanted to keep it that way. He took his helmet from the handlebars of the snowmobile and pulled it on over his head, then picked up the front of the machine and dragged it around until it faced the way he had come. They might hear it start, but they would never know it was him, for only Cassie would recognize his suit. He pondered stopping in to see her instead, but he had no idea how she would respond to him, and his heart was no longer in the visit anyway. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared and sputtered, sending fumes into the air around him. He pulled the shield down over his face and straddled the machine, then put it in gear and roared out into the open field and away from Shelby’s house.
Cassie and Shane sat alone in the living room. It was only eight in the evening, but Shelby had gone to bed early with a headache. Cassie was leafing through a magazine, not seeing a thing; her pounding heart was making her dizzy. Shelby had arranged this on purpose, of course, to give them a chance to be alone. Now Shane sat in the overstuffed chair, his eyes on the pages of an open book, but she had not seen him turn a page and she knew he was not reading.
“Shane?”
His beautiful pale eyes looked up from his book, and her heart did a wrenching twist in her chest.
“Can we talk? About us?”
Shane drew a deep breath and sighed as he closed the book. “Cassie, we have a real problem.”
Encouraged by the “we,” Cassie smiled. “It’s okay. Shelby knows. She’s okay.”
“Yes, I know. I talked to her about it this afternoon.”
The distressed look on his face caused Cassie’s smile to fade. “But she told me you’ve already talked about one of you needing someone else,” she said earnestly.
“Cassie, you misunderstood the conversation. Shelby … she’s the one who is … normal. I’m not.”
Cassie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“This isn’t easy,” Shane said in irritation. “Can we just leave it that I wouldn’t be right for you?”
“No!” Cassie answered hotly. “No, I’m not going to be put off that way! I took a chance opening up to you, Shane, because I love you! I think you can at least tell me why I’m being made to feel like a fool!”
“You shouldn’t feel like a fool for loving someone, Cassie! I’m the one who feels like a fool! I should have seen it coming and stopped it!”
“Why? Is it this baby? I’ll give up this baby, Shane! I don’t want it! I’ve never wanted it!”
“Cassie, stop it!” The book slid from Shane’s lap as he sat forward in his chair and glared at her. “It’s not about the damn baby! Okay, I’ll tell you why! Because I’m impotent, that’s why! I could never make love to you! Now, are you satisfied?”
Cassie stared at him, appalled by his bold-faced lie. “I don’t believe that, Shane! Shelby herself admits you used to be lovers.”
“Used to be, not anymore. I wasn’t always … this way.”
“You weren’t ‘that way’ two days ago,” Cassie said sarcastically. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Shane frowned, then apparently remembered. He sat back in his chair and looked steadily at her. “Cassie, things are not always what they seem. Look, I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want you to leave. I enjoy your company, and I would miss you if you weren’t here. But I love Shelby. It’s that simple.”
Cassie sat in mortified silence, wanting to die. Why had it come to this once more? What was wrong with her? “What do you mean, things are not always what they seem?” she said bitterly. “Are you impotent or aren’t you? Did you fuck Shelby two days ago or didn’t you?”
Shane looked startled at her language. “I have never fucked Shelby,” he said quietly. “I have always made love with Shelby. And many times we’ve made love without ‘going all the way’ as they say. It’s a frame of mind, Cassie.”
Cassie stared at him in despair. “Am I ugly, Shane?”
“Not at all.”
“Am I crude? Disgusting? Too ignorant for you?”
“Cassie …”
“What’s wrong with me, Shane?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you! You’re very attractive, you’re a great person, you’re fun to be with. I’m just not the right guy!”
Cassie leaned toward him, angry now. “I don’t believe that! Shelby’s going to leave you some day for someone else! You said yourself you plan to move out to the barn. Give me a chance, Shane!”
“Oh, Christ!” Shane rose to his feet and started for the stairs.
Cassie’s heart leapt into her throat. “Shane, please! Don’t walk out on me …”
“Shane!” Shelby’s angry voice rang out across the room, startling them both. They turned to see her standing tall in the doorway of the music room, her face grim and her sightless eyes cold. “Tell her the truth, Shane! She deserves that much!”
Shane stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at her in surprise.
“Tell her now, Shane. She’ll understand, and she’ll keep it to herself. It’s the only way, and it’s the right thing to do.”
Shane stood immobile, his handsome face angry, his body tense.
Shelby’s voice softened, and now she just sounded weary. “Tell her and get it over with.”
Cassie looked back and forth between them, her heart pounding wildly. What was going on?
Shane turned to face her. “I’m gay,” he said bitterly, his eyes hard. “Now do you understand? I’m gay.” He turned on his heel and went up the stairs without looking back.
Cassie was stunned. She sat without moving, her eyes trained on the spot where Shane had been. He was gay. It had to be true. No man would say that if it wasn’t true.
She turned to look at Shelby, standing in the doorway to the music room. She was leaning against the doorframe with her eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. When Cassie’s own tears started, she realized they were for Shelby and not herself. She rose to her feet and went to put her arms around her friend. “I’m sorry, Shelby.”
Shelby shook her head. “No, I’m sorry for you. I made my peace with this a long time ago.”
Cassie stepped back and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “Did you always know?”
“I knew almost from the beginning.”
Cassie glanced back toward the stairs. “And it doesn’t bother you? What he … does?”
Shelby shook her head. “I love him. I love … the person. I love him for what he’s done for me and … and what he does for me now. I love him because he loves me. I can’t explain it.” She turned away from the living room and started back toward the kitchen. “I don’t think about what he does with someone else. If I did, I’d go crazy. But I also know he’s got to be himself. It’s like loving a child who’s growing up and being forced to let him go. You still love him and wish he was yours, but he’s got to be himself.” Shelby stopped and turned back toward Cassie, and her smile was tinged with sadness. “You feel differently about him already, don’t you?”
Cassie closed her eyes. The thought of Shane in bed with another man made her sick.
“You see, I never fell in love with Shane’s face,” Shelby said kindly. “but I’ve seen this happen be
fore. Perhaps I’d have been better off if I loved him for more superficial reasons. Then I could let go easier.”
She resumed her slow walk into the kitchen. Cassie followed behind her. “He’s lucky to have you.”
Shelby shook her head. “Not really. He doesn’t need me as much as I need him. I could never have moved here if I hadn’t convinced him to come with me and open the school.”
Cassie’s mind went back to Larry Dumaine’s accusation that Shane was using Shelby. How wrong the man had been. “I’m sorry I forced Shane to tell me the truth,” she said quietly. “That must have been hard for him.”
“It’s hard, but it’s something he has to face. We all have things about ourselves we have to face.”
Lonely Souls Page 18