“No, of course not.”
“Well, what is wrong with you, then?”
Jerusalem continued to move the plunger up and down and did not speak for a moment. When she looked up, her lips were drawn into a tight line. “We don’t need to sell any cattle. We’re getting by. And besides that, there’s a lot of work for Clay to do around here. He doesn’t need to be going all the way to Shreveport.”
“Maybe Clay thinks Lucita needs the money. I hear she’s going along to do the cooking.”
Jerusalem applied more force than was necessary to the plunger, and her face grew more tense. “She doesn’t need to be going. It doesn’t look right.”
For a moment Julie didn’t speak, and when she did, her voice was sharp. “Sister, I’ve had about a hundred lectures from you, and I deserved every one of them! So you can take one from me now. Stop that churnin’ and listen.” She waited until Jerusalem looked up and met her eyes, then she said, clearly enunciating every word, “You need to turn Clay loose.”
Jerusalem stared at Julie. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve become way too dependent on him, Jerusalem. It’s not like you. It’s natural enough, since he got us all out to this place when nobody else could, and then he saved you and your daughters from Red Wolf. But I’ve noticed that ever since you came back, you’ve been afraid to let Clay out of your sight.”
“That’s not so!” Jerusalem insisted.
“It is so.”
“No, it’s not! And I’ll tell you right now, Julie Satterfield. I don’t need any advice from a woman who lives like you do!” Jerusalem said, glaring at Julie.
Julie got up and said, “I reckon I’d best go back to town. It’s a little bit uncomfortable around here.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Sister, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known, but all women get a blind spot sometimes where men are concerned. I think you need to wake up and face the truth.” She turned around and walked out the door without looking back.
Jerusalem opened her mouth once to call, but then she closed it abruptly. “It’s not so,” she said. “Julie doesn’t know what she’s talking about!”
For the next two days while Clay and Mateo were getting ready to make the drive to Shreveport, Jerusalem found herself struggling in a way she had never known. Something had happened to her that night in Red Wolf’s camp. It had looked as though she and her daughters could end up as Comanche squaws. Yet when she openly confessed her faith in Jesus to Red Wolf, her spiritual life had been transformed right in the face of danger. And her life had been different since then. She now experienced a deep joy that she didn’t have before. But for some reason, she felt absolutely miserable when she thought about Clay leaving. She went over Julie’s words time and time again but could not bring herself to accept them.
On the morning when Clay was leaving with Mateo and Lucita, she got up early and started to make breakfast. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt an uneasiness that bordered on fear. The more she tried to ignore it, the more it grew. She began thinking how hard life would be if something happened to Clay. She thought about how they all could have died a slow death at Red Wolf’s hands. Out here on the plains of Texas, the Indians were a constant danger.
But then another thought came to her mind. Lucita has always had something in her eyes for Clay. She’s grateful to him, but it’s more than that. She doesn’t need to go. Clay doesn’t know anything about women. He’s weak like all men are.
Finally, this thought became intolerable. She called Moriah and said, “I’m going over to Lucita’s. You take care of Mary Aidan while I’m gone.”
Jerusalem went outside, hitched up the buggy, and left at once. All the way to Lucita’s house, she went over what she was going to say. “It’s not right for him, but he ought to see it. But men are blind. She’s an attractive woman, and she likes him more than he knows. And Clay’s not handsome, but women are drawn to him. I can’t let him put himself in this kind of danger.”
As she neared Lucita’s adobe house, she could see the dust raised by the cattle that had been gathered to drive to market. When she pulled up, Clay left the small herd and came riding over. He looked excited as he came alongside her and the buggy.
“Come to see us off? We’ve made a good selection. They should bring us a good price.”
“No, Clay, I didn’t come for that.” The speech was in her mind, and she knew that if she didn’t make it immediately, she would not be able to. “Clay, I’ve tried to talk to you about this. I think it’s the wrong time to take any cattle to market. There are some things that need doing around the place, so I’ve decided that you’re not to go.”
Clay stared at Jerusalem with astonishment. “But I’ve explained all that, Jerusalem. We do need cash, and what’s more, Lucita needs it a lot more. Look,” he said, “we can get a good price for these cattle, and we won’t be gone more than a couple of weeks. I can bring back some of the things we’ve been needing from Shreveport.”
Jerusalem shook her head and said brusquely, “No, Clay, you can’t go.”
Something changed in Clay Taliferro at that moment. He was an easygoing man with a ready grin, but he had no smile on his face, and his lips drew into a tight line. For that instant, he had the same hard look on his face as when he had challenged Red Wolf. His eyes were fixed on her, and he said, “I’m going, Jerusalem. Make up your mind to that. Besides, there’s something I need to take care of.”
A mixture of anger and fear took hold of Jerusalem, and she said, “Clay, it’s not fit for a single man and a single woman to make a trip like this together.” The words seemed to hang in the air, and Jerusalem knew at that instant that she had said too much.
Clay gave her an odd look and said, “I’m going to take these cattle to market, Jerusalem, and I have an errand of my own to do.”
And then Jerusalem blurted out without thinking, “If you do go, Clay, don’t bother to come back!” She was appalled at her outburst, and she felt the blood leave her face. She had never spoken to Clay like this before.
For a moment Clay did not move, and then he shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t know everything that’s in a man,” he said, then turned and rode away.
Jerusalem sat there, knowing that she had made a complete fool of herself! For a fleeting moment, she was ready to chase after him in the buggy and try to make it right. But the look on his face had been like the closing of a door. She spoke to the horse and turned around, heading back home. Her shoulders were slumped, and she had to blink the tears away.
Why did I say such a thing as that? What a fool I am! As she rode back to the house, she realized she would never be able to face Clay again in the same easy way they had always had toward each other.
For the next week Jerusalem made it a point to keep her feelings to herself. Every night she lay awake, remembering the last scene with Clay and thinking of how she had said things that should never be said by a woman to a man. She had tossed and turned and gone over and over the scene in her mind. The more she thought of it, the more ashamed she grew of her words and her actions. For most of the time, she managed to keep her feelings from showing, but once Mary Aidan asked, “Why don’t you laugh, Mama?” And she knew that even the child had sensed the difference in her. Clinton had not. He was not a discerning young man, and Brodie was too occupied with shining up to Serena to even notice.
On Thursday night she awoke at three o’clock, and after tossing in bed for an hour, she got up and dressed and went into the kitchen. Lighting the lamp, she began to read in her Bible. She was reading the sixty-ninth Psalm, which began, “Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul. I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing; I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.” She felt the cry of the psalmist deeply, and then she read verse five, which seemed to leap out at her: “O, God, thou knowest m
y foolishness; and my sins are not hid from thee.”
The words burned into Jerusalem’s heart, and she bowed her head and began to pray. For a long time, all she could say was, “Oh, God, forgive me. I’ve been a foolish woman.” Finally a peace came to her heart, and she got up and washed her face. She went out on the porch and sat down. The night was cool and refreshing, just like the refreshing she found in her soul. She knew God had heard her prayer and forgiven her. She sat there until the dawn began to break in the east, and she was able, for the first time, to think clearly about Clay.
“I can’t marry Clay because I have a husband. I know Clay’s lonesome at times. If he loves Lucita and she loves him, then it would be good if they married.” Even as she spoke these words, she realized how painful it was to see the truth. She reminded herself to have a talk with Julie. Her sister was right. She also realized how a large part of her life had been influenced by Clay Taliferro. She sat there watching the sun come up and then suddenly stood up, for someone was riding along the road. She stood there peering until she recognized that it was Jake. She waited until he stepped off of his horse and came up on the front porch before speaking.
“Hello, Jake. Surprised to see you here. When did you get back?”
Jake was wearing his buckskins, and there was a nervousness about him as he came and stood before her, taking off his hat. “I’ve been back for two days.”
“Was your trip successful?”
“I guess you might say that,” Jake said as he turned the hat around by the edges. “I came to tell you something, Jerusalem. I’ve been thinkin’ a lot while I was off in the mountains. It’s a good place for a man to think and see things clear. When you’re on the top of a ridge, looking out across a valley, your thoughts have a way of speaking to you. I thought about you and the kids, and I thought about what a sorry, trifling, no-account husband and father I’ve been.”
Jerusalem was shocked at Jake’s words. She had been married to this man for years, and suddenly she realized that she had never really known him. “Jake, I . . . I don’t know what to say. You ought not to be too hard on yourself.”
“Yes, I should. That’s been the problem all these years. I ain’t been hard enough on myself. But we can’t go on like this. I know it, and you know it. So while I was out in the mountains, I made a decision.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I want you to have this. It’s for you and the kids.”
“What is it, Jake?” Jerusalem asked as she took the envelope.
“It’s a deed to the land that I bought. I want you and the kids to have it.”
“Why, I won’t take it, Jake. You paid for that land fair and square, and your family needs it. You’ve got to look out for them. You’ve got a new baby now.”
“I’ll take care of Awinita and the kids, but this is for you. It ain’t enough to make up for all the hard years when I wasn’t much of a husband to you—or a pa to the kids when they needed me . . .”
Jerusalem shook her head. “I can’t take it, Jake.”
“You got to take it. That’s all there is to it. I’m leavin’ here with Awinita and the kids. She’s miserable and wants to go back to her own people. So that’s what we’re going to do.”
Jerusalem could not think clearly. She held the envelope in her hand and looked into Jake’s face. She tried to recall the first time she felt love for this man. They had shared the same house, the same bed, and although it was true he had never been a good husband or a good father, still they had shared life for many years. She realized as she stood there that whatever that youthful feeling had been, it was completely gone, or what was left was only a faint memory.
“I’m gonna say good-bye to the kids, and we’re leaving first thing tomorrow. You take the house and everything that we leave in it.”
“This isn’t right, Jake. I need to pay you something.”
“No, you don’t.” Jake reached out suddenly and put his hand on Jerusalem’s shoulder and squeezed it. “You got to take it, Jerusalem. It’ll make me feel halfway like a man. I can’t leave Awinita now. She’d be helpless, but you’re a strong woman. If you want a divorce, you can sure have it. You deserve a good husband, but it ain’t me.”
“I hate that it’s come to this, Jake.”
“So do I. Well, get the kids up, and this is good-bye. Try not to think too hard of me, Jerusalem.”
“I’d never do that, Jake.” She put her hand over his, and in that instant, she knew she was saying good-bye to a lot of years. “I’ll get the kids. They’ll want to say good-bye to their pa.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Jerusalem had seen Lucita drive up and went out on the front porch. She waited until Lucita was close and then said, “It’s good to see you back. When did you get in?”
Lucita was wearing fresh clothes, but she looked tired. “Just yesterday.”
“Come in and tell me about the trip.” Jerusalem held the door open and then led Lucita to the kitchen. “I’ve got some lemons, and I made lemonade. It won’t be cold, but it’s good.”
“That would be nice,” Lucita said as she sat down at the kitchen table.
Jerusalem busied herself with pouring the lemonade into glasses and then sat down at the table across from Lucita. The two women talked for a moment, and then Lucita reached into her pocket and handed over an envelope. “There is your share of the money for the cattle. Clay got a good price for them.”
“Why didn’t he bring it himself?”
Lucita gave Jerusalem an odd look and then shook her head slightly. “He didn’t come back with me. He said he had something to do, and he told me to give you the money.”
Jerusalem made no attempt to open the envelope. She stuck it in her pocket as if it were of no importance and then sat up straight and cleared her throat. “Lucita,” she said evenly, “I have an apology that I owe you.”
“An apology? For what?”
“I behaved very badly before Clay left on the trip. I told him not to go and . . . I said it wasn’t right for you to go. That was very wrong of me, and I apologize.”
“I know you didn’t want me to go, Jerusalem.” She smiled, and sipped the lemonade while the two women sat silently. Finally, Lucita said quietly, “We are much alike, you and I. We have lost our husbands. Mine is dead, and yours is the same as dead. It’s the way of a woman to want a man to hold on to, but you needn’t worry. Clay never thinks of me as a woman he might love.”
Jerusalem stared at Lucita but said nothing.
“I have seen how you look at him, Jerusalem, as a woman looks at a man.”
“No, Lucita, that is not how it is.”
When Lucita did not answer, Jerusalem knew that her words were hollow. She had thought the apology might make her feel better, but it did not. “Did Clay . . . say when he’d come back?”
Lucita sipped again from the lemonade and then set the glass on the table. “I must go,” she said. She stood up and went to the door, but before she opened the door, she turned and answered Jerusalem’s question. “No, he didn’t say anything about coming back.”
A week had passed since Mateo had returned with his mother from Shreveport. Clay had given him part of the money for helping with the drive, and he had invited Serena to go to town, saying that he would buy her something pretty.
The two of them got dressed, and while Mateo went to hitch up the horses, Serena went to tell her mother they’d be back in a couple of hours. When they entered town, Mateo said, “I’m going to look at a gun that I may want to buy. Where will you be?”
“I’m going to look at cloth. Maybe you will buy me some to make a new dress.”
“Try to find red. You look good in red.”
“I will see.”
Serena entered the general store, and for the next forty minutes, she looked at every bolt of cloth the clerk had to show her. She finally decided on a brilliant red satin and said, “I will go find my brother. He will buy this for me.”
She left the store and turned to go down to the gunsmiths, when she heard someone call her name. She turned to find William Travis walking up behind her. He was smiling and took off his hat as he came to stand before her.
“Well, señorita, it’s good to see you again. You here with your family?”
“Just my brother. He is looking at a gun, but he may be a long time.”
“That’s my good fortune,” Travis said.
Serena continued to speak with Travis. He was a fine-looking man, but she knew that he was married and had a wife somewhere in the United States. She had learned that the day of the celebration and Sam Houston’s speech, when everyone was talking at the dance. She also understood that he was a womanizer, as rumor had it. But he was well-spoken and seemed to appreciate her company.
When Serena finally mentioned that her brother was back from Shreveport and was going to buy her a dress, Travis put his hand out and touched her shoulder. “Why, this is a pretty enough dress right here. Couldn’t be any prettier.”
At that instant Serena heard her brother’s voice coming from behind her.
“Take your hand off my sister!”
Serena turned and saw that Mateo’s face was etched with anger. “Mateo, it is nothing,” she said, but he was not listening.
He stepped in front of Travis and said, “You’ve insulted my sister for the last time, Señor Travis. If you ever speak to her again, I will come for you with a gun.”
Travis blinked with astonishment. “Why, I was just carrying on a pleasant conversation with your sister.”
“I won’t trade words with you. You are a womanizer and a married man. Stay away from my sister, or I will kill you.”
Travis flushed with anger, and for one terrible moment, Serena thought that he might pull the gun that hung in the holster at his side.
Instead, he bowed slightly and said, “I’m sorry that you feel that way, young man. I meant no harm.” He bowed to Serena and said, “Good day, señorita.”
Mateo watched Travis move away, and Serena pulled at his arm. “Come, Mateo. It was nothing.”
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