by Liz Harris
Phebe stood up. ‘I reckon I can manage without the carrots,’ she said stiffly.
‘Sit down, Phebe, gal,’ Martha told her, her voice softening. She stood up. ‘I doubt you’ll want to take dried carrots back with you and start soakin’ them – not this late in the day – so you can take some stew home with you.’ She went over to the dresser, lifted down an earthenware crock and took it across to the stove.
‘I’m obliged to you,’ Phebe said. She hesitated, and then turned to Charity. ‘I won’t pretend I’m sorry you’re goin’,’ she said slowly, ‘’cos you know I’m not. But I feel for you havin’ to leave the place that’s always been your home, and I hope you find a job it pleases you to do, and in a place where they like the Chinee more than Carter folk do.’
‘That was real prettily spoken, Phebe,’ Martha said, coming over with a crock of stew. She handed it to her with a smile. ‘You’re a good gal at heart.’
Phebe stood up and took the crock. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She nodded to Charity, turned and went to the door.
When Martha had closed the door behind her, she returned to the table and stood staring thoughtfully down at Charity, who’d resumed her mending.
‘Is there anythin’ you wanna add to what you said before?’ she asked at last.
‘Nope,’ Charity said, looking up from the camisole. ‘I’m leavin’ on Monday week, and that’s the truth.’
‘This feels real good, Martha,’ Hiram said, stretching his injured leg out as much as he could. ‘It’s a fine feelin’ to be able to sit outside the house in the evenin’ again. Sure, there’s a chill in the air, but there’s also a feel of spring, and the breeze is gettin’ warmer each day.’
Martha glanced across at him and smiled. ‘Sure is,’ she said, and she turned slightly to look to her left. Her gaze settled on the hills opposite Carter where Charity and Joe had occasionally walked in years gone by, charcoal-grey shapes that stood proud against the darkening sky. She stared at their jagged outline, her expression thoughtful.
‘Where’s Charity?’ Hiram asked after a while.
‘Sortin’ out her things for when she leaves.’
‘You’ll miss her help.’
‘That’s for sure. But I’ll miss her for more than that. She never became that daughter we wanted, but nevertheless I’ve gotten real fond of the gal. I hadn’t realised how much.’
He nodded. ‘I know you have, and so have I. But we’ve got our Joe back now and that’s gonna help.’
‘But for how long?’
He looked at her in surprise. ‘What d’you mean? For always, I reckon. He’s gonna take over the livery stable, isn’t he?’
She turned her head and stared hard at him. ‘Is that what you truly think, Hiram?’
‘Yeah, it is.’ He frowned. ‘Don’t you?’
She looked back at the darkness gathering ahead. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What d’you mean?’ He twisted in his chair to face her. ‘Look at me, Martha.’
She turned to him. ‘I know my Joe, and I know what he’s like,’ she said slowly. ‘I remember him when he was workin’ for Seth, a lad between hay and grass, neither man nor boy. He liked the work well enough, but he still talked of leavin’. The times he was happiest was when he was out in the corral with the horses or ridin’ them hard across the plain, exercisin’ them for Seth.’
‘I know that. So what are you sayin’?’
‘That I never heard him say that if the livery stable was his, he’d never leave. Think about it, Hiram. He’s always wanted the open fields. He only worked in the stable to bring in money and that was the best job for him in Carter. But it was never anythin’ more than a job – it wasn’t his dream.’
‘So you think that first Charity will leave, and then at some point next year, when Seth’s fit and well again, Joe will ride off, too? And we have to be prepared for it. Is that what you’re tellin’ me?’
‘Maybe. To speak the truth, I’m not sure what I’m tellin’ you. When Joe came back to Carter, you could see he was a man ready for a woman, and I don’t mean in the passin’ through town kinda way, the kind cowboys look for when they’ve money in their pockets – not that sorta woman. He already knew Charity was lovely inside, and when he saw her again on the night he returned, and saw how lovely she was outside, too – well, I reckon he fell for her real hard.’
‘And what about Charity?’
‘You only had to look at her to know it wasn’t just Joe feelin’ that way, and I’ve been scared about what could happen ever since. Whatever Charity says, I can’t see the Joe I know givin’ her up without a fight.’
‘Can you see the Joe you know settin’ up home with her without them bein’ wed? You’re always sayin’ how like you he is. What would you do if you were Joe?’
She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I only have to look back at what I did do. I wed a man I hardly knew, a man with dreams, who was full of charm and sweet-talk. I took him to the home I loved, and when he didn’t like the life I wanted to live, and told me to choose between stayin’ there or followin’ him to some godforsaken place or other, I packed my bags, picked up the kids and followed him.’
‘If he loves Charity, he’ll do what’s best for her,’ Hiram said quietly. ‘I know that, and in your heart, so do you. Them bein’ killed is what could happen if they decided to do what you fear they might, but Joe would never put her in any kind of danger.’
Martha nodded. ‘Not deliberately, he wouldn’t. But I reckon he might just think he could get away with somethin’. I’m not too sure what that could be. But I reckon he won’t just sit back and do nothin’, and that’s what makes me afear’d.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rain fell from the sky in sheets of silken grey, gathering in the moonlight-pitted pools that formed in sunken patches of ground, overflowing into rivulets of glistening grey-black water that raced down Main Street.
Her coat drenched and the hems of her skirt and petticoats muddied, Charity ran into the livery stable and came to a stop inside the barn. She stood there, looking around for Joe as the rain hosed noisily on to the wooden roof, its insistent beat reverberating in the hollow space beneath. One of the horses whinnied. And then another.
Water ran off her coat and pooled around her feet on the wooden floor. ‘Joe,’ she shouted, unbuttoning her coat and moving further into the barn. She shook her coat and then squeezed the water from the end of her braid.
‘Joe!’ she shouted again, more loudly this time to be heard above the sounds of the rain and of the horses kicking against the wooden walls of the stalls.
He’d be somewhere nearby, she knew, and she just had to talk to him.
For the whole of the last two days, she’d been watching for a moment to ask if he’d been able to get to the priest, but to her intense frustration there hadn’t been one. Martha had been up early each morning, before either of them had left their rooms, and Hiram had taken to sitting with them at night. Although clearly exhausted and hardly able to keep awake, he hadn’t retired to bed until after they’d gone to their rooms.
She’d begun to despair of ever having a chance to speak alone with Joe when Phebe had hammered on the door that evening, frantically pleading for help with Thomas. He was flushed and sweating and had a bad cough, she’d said, fear on her face. Martha had thrown on her coat to go down to Sam’s house, and Charity had seen her chance.
She’d told Martha she’d run into town for a chicken. If Thomas turned out to have pneumonia, she’d said, they’d need a fresh chicken, and it’d be better to get it while there were still people at work in the stores rather than have to disturb someone later at night if he took a turn for the worse. Martha had nodded her agreement, and had then hurried down to Sam’s house.
She’d grabbed her coat and had run to the livery as fast as she could, heedless of the mud and the rain, fearful that Martha might not be with Thomas for long.
She glanced round the stable again, wondering where Joe coul
d be. A moment later, she heard the back door click shut and footsteps come along the corridor towards her.
‘Joe,’ she called again.
‘Charity!’ he exclaimed as he came into the barn and saw her. His face broke out into a broad smile. ‘I thought I’d imagined hearin’ you call me,’ he added with a laugh, and he pulled off his hat and oilcloth duster coat, slung them over a nearby stool and came across to her, bringing with him the earthy smell of damp hay and wet leather. ‘What in tarnation, you’re soaked!’
‘It’s nothin’ that won’t dry,’ she said, laughing. The horses neighed in unison, and she glanced anxiously towards the stalls, then back at Joe. ‘The horses seem restless.’
‘They’re always like this in a storm – you should’ve seen them in the corral this afternoon; they just couldn’t be settled. It means we’ll have thunder and lightning before the night’s out. But if you think horses are noisy, you should hear cattle lowin’ when there’s a storm on the way. Which I hope you will hear one day,’ he added, with a grin.
‘Me, too,’ she said, gazing up at him.
‘Anyway.’ He came closer, and raised his hand to brush away a cloud of tiny black flies that hovered around her damp face. ‘What brings you here in weather like this? It’s rainin’ pitchforks.’ He ran his fingers slowly down her wet hair, and she felt the touch of his love. ‘Your eyes are as dark as the sky’s gotten,’ he said huskily. ‘They’re beautiful, Charity. You’re beautiful.’
At the expression in his eyes, a sigh of happiness ran through her, and she moved closer to him, her face raised to his, her lips parting slightly.
He put his hand to her cheek, and trailed it lingeringly down the side of her face, and down the slender column of her throat.
Then he let his gaze fall to the line of her body beneath her dress, visible between the flaps of her open coat. ‘You’re so lovely,’ he said softly. ‘Wet or dry, with the sun on your face or when you’re covered in mud, you’re never anythin’ but real beautiful. I wanna hold you right now and never let you go.’
‘Oh, Joe.’ She reached up to him and brushed her lips against his, then she stepped back. ‘That’s as close as I’m gonna get to you for now,’ she said, laughing. ‘You won’t want to be covered in that mud you mentioned.’
He held out his arms at his side and grinned at her. ‘Come as close as you want. I don’t mind; not one little bit.’
She gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘If only I could, but there isn’t time. I doubt your ma will be with Phebe for long, so I must get back soon. And I’ve gotta get a chicken first.’
He lowered his arms. ‘What’s Phebe want this time?’
‘Advice about Thomas. She said he wasn’t well, and she and Sam were worried. It sounds like a bad cold and nothin’ more, but it gave me an excuse to come out and see you. Your folks have clearly decided we’re not to be left alone together,’ she added with an amused smile, ‘so I’ve not yet been able to ask if you’ve been to the priest.’
He nodded. ‘I have and it’s fine. He was pleased to be able to return the favour I did him, and he was also real keen on doin’ somethin’ that asserted the right of the Chinese to sort things out for themselves, whatever the laws of the whites said.’
She clasped her hands together in glee.
‘And he had a grand suggestion to make. We can’t do it here in Carter, but we might be able to do it in Sheridan as Sheridan’s a sight bigger than Carter. He said we could get a lawyer to draw up a marriage contract. We can never be wed in the eyes of American law, but with a contract, and a Chinese weddin’, we’d be as wed as we can be.’
‘That would be wonderful. So where and when’s the weddin’ gonna be?’
‘In the tong in just over a week; on the Monday like we wanted. He’ll use one of the downstairs rooms. It’ll be early in the mornin’, when the Carter women are doin’ their washin’. He asked if we wanted food afterwards – some cake and wine perhaps, as that’s a real important part of the weddin’ for the Chinese – but I’ve told him there won’t be time.’
She shrugged in dismissal. ‘We don’t need any food.’
‘What we’ll need to do is get out of town as fast as we can. I’ll load the wagon the night before, and then just before sunup on the Monday, drive it out to the plain and leave it there with one of the horses. I’ll ride back on the other. I’ve ordered the horses through some drovers I know. I’m not usin’ Seth’s contacts, as I don’t wanna risk him bein’ blamed for any part of this.’
‘I’m real pleased about that. Seth mustn’t be in any trouble for what we’re doin’.’
He nodded. ‘As soon as you’ve had breakfast,’ he went on, ‘you’ll tell Ma and Pa you’re goin’ to the station and that you’d rather go alone. When you’ve said goodbye to them, go straight to the tong. When we leave the tong, you’ll walk out to the plain. I’ll collect the horse from the stable and ride out of town, lookin’ like I’m exercisin’ it. I’ll hitch it to the wagon and drive the wagon to meet you when you’re far enough out of town.’
‘I do hope nothin’ goes wrong,’ she said, biting her lip anxiously. ‘I keep thinkin’ back to the Chinaman who was lynched in Denver, and the violence you stopped here. But for you, the priest would’ve been lynched.’
‘It won’t go wrong, Charity. By the time anyone realises you didn’t get on that train and that I’ve gone, too, we’ll be far away, and we’ll not have left any sign of where we’ve gone.’
‘Suppose the priest says somethin’ to someone before the weddin’ and they tell the Marshal?’
‘He won’t. He made a point of sayin’ that neither of us should tell anyone. He knows that tensions are high and he doesn’t want to risk what might happen in town if we were found out. And the Chens have friends. There’ll be people in both communities who’d try to get us thrown into jail at the very least if they knew, and the priest knows that. And also he’ll be encouragin’ us to break American law, so they could put him in jail, too.’
‘D’you think they’ll come after us when they find we’re gone?’
‘I don’t rightly know. I guess it depends on how soon they find out. The Marshal could easily round up a posse with all the anti-Chinese feelin’ in town. But if they do come after us, they’ll most likely think we’ve gone due south towards the Rockies or west to Evanston. They’re likely to think we’d hide in the forests south of Evanston and then head out of Wyoming. I’d be surprised if they thought we’d stay in Wyoming Territory.’
There was a distant rumble of thunder.
‘I must go,’ she said quickly.
He nodded. ‘We’ll speak again as soon as we can.’
Turning away, she started buttoning up her coat. He caught her arm. She stopped moving and stared up at him. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, their eyes filled with a powerful yearning.
Somewhere outside, thunder rumbled again; this time closer.
As they stood there in thrall to love, a jagged bolt of lightning streaked through the stormy sky and cracked it open. A pristine white light lit up the town and fell through the stable entrance on to them.
Momentarily blinded by its shining intensity, Joe put his hands to his eyes and rubbed them.
When he opened his eyes again, Charity had gone.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lifting her boots high with each step to avoid kicking up more water and mud than was necessary, Charity made her way carefully across the ground which was coated with a thick layer of soft mud that had oozed from the ridges of dirt when they’d collapsed beneath the violent onslaught of the weekend’s rain. Reaching Second Street, she stepped on to the damp boardwalk, and started to walk more quickly.
As soon as she turned into Main Street, she crossed over the track to the bakery side to avoid walking close to the mercantile, and with her head down, went quickly through Chinatown towards the railroad depot.
Every so often, she glanced ahead to the railroad, which ran across the end of
Main Street, its metal-topped rails silvery grey in the light of the morning sun, and to the wood-frame depot that lay on the other side of the track. Going to the depot to find out the time of the trains to Green River the following Monday, which Joe’s folks would expect her to be able to tell them, had been the right thing to do that morning, she thought.
When she’d told Joe’s ma she was off to the station, his ma had nodded and then, on an impulse it seemed, had squeezed her lightly on the arm and stared at her with eyes full of sympathy and concern. Guilt had welled up inside her, and she’d left for town as soon after that as she was able.
‘Charity!’ She heard her name being called from behind by a breathless voice. ‘Charity, you stop.’
She turned in surprise and saw Su Lin hurrying up to her.
‘Su Lin!’ she exclaimed, and she beamed at her. ‘I’m so glad to see you.’ Then a thought struck her. Her smile faded and she glanced nervously over Su Lin’s shoulder towards the mercantile store, but there was no sign of anyone else in the Chen family. Smiling again, she turned back to her friend.
‘How did you know I’d be comin’ this way at this time?’ she asked, her forehead creasing in amazement.
‘I did not know. I watch for you every day. I sit in the upstairs bedroom and look at Second Street. Today I see you coming.’
‘Doesn’t Chen Fai mind you not workin’ in the store or helpin’ with the cookin’?’ Charity asked in surprise.
‘No. He is very kind. He sees that I am very sad as I am not speaking to Charity friend for a long time, and he say I need not work for some days, not until I am happy again. But you come with me – it is not good to talk in the street.’
Beckoning to Charity to follow, she hurriedly led the way to the narrow passage between the Chinese laundry and Chinaman Doc’s herb store. Halfway down the passage, Su Lin stopped and leaned back against the cold stone wall of the laundry.