by Ann Shorey
Ellie followed him down the stairs. When Matthew opened the door, Arthur flung himself inside.
“Is Ruby here?” His eyes cut to the corners of the kitchen, as though he might find her hidden behind a chair.
“It’s barely dawn.” Matthew placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Why would she be here?”
Arthur turned to Ellie. “Did she say anything to you on Thursday?”
“No.” Her jaw dropped. “Do you mean she’s gone?”
“She’s gone all right.”
“Something must have happened to her.” Matthew walked to the stove and tossed several pieces of wood on top of the previous night’s coals. “Did you check along the road to town?”
Arthur stumbled to a chair and sat, covering his face with his hands. “Did more than that. It was just an old man’s foolish hope that she’d be here with you.”
Ellie moved close to Matthew’s side. He grasped her hand and turned to Arthur. “Start at the beginning and tell us what’s happened.”
“Went to that play last night, like half the folks in town, then afterward Ruby said she had to stay and help them pack up. Said she’d have someone bring her out after they was done.” Arthur sighed. “So, I went home to bed. Well, I woke up a couple hours ago, and she still wasn’t back.” He looked at Matthew. “I thought the same thing you did—something happened along the road and she was out there hurt. Saddled up the horse and rode to town, slow-like, with a lantern so’s I could check the hedgerows. Nothing.”
Arthur pivoted in his chair and peered out at the brightening day. When he turned back to them, his eyes were deep pools of pain. “At the hotel, that namby-pamby clerk was all in a dither. Seems them actors packed up and left in the middle of the night without paying their bill.” He paused. In the heavy silence, they could hear the iron surface of the stove tick as it heated.
Tears formed at the corners of Arthur’s eyes and trickled down his round cheeks. “Ruby went with them.”
Matthew waited while Arthur settled onto the seat of the buckboard. He’d already tied Arthur’s horse, King George, to the back of the wagon.
“You don’t have to do this. I can ride home.”
“Course you can. Just thought you might like a little company.”
Arthur stared straight ahead as the buckboard rolled out of the farmyard and crossed the wooden bridge over the creek. “I feel like I been trampled by a team of draft horses. All these years with Ruby and never a notion she’d do something like this.”
“We don’t know what really happened. Maybe she’s been taken against her will.”
“Hah! Against her will, my foot. You don’t believe that, and neither do I. If you could’ve heard all the ‘Mr. Forsythe this’ and ‘Mr. Forsythe that’ the woman’s been prattling, you’d know it was him turned her head.” His voice shook. “You was right from the beginning. That play brought no good to this town—Ruby’s gone, and Jack Bryant is out food and lodging for all the time them folks spent in his hotel.”
In a corner of his mind, Matthew couldn’t help but feel vindicated. But even his greatest fears hadn’t included Ellie losing her aunt, the only mother she’d known. He considered reassuring Arthur that God had a plan in this for everyone’s good, then rejected the idea. Instead, he glanced around at the sprouted corn in fields lining the road. The downy leaves reflected the soft gold of the morning sun. “Feels sticky already. Going to be a hot one.”
Arthur ignored the remark. He sat with his hands clasped on his knees, fingers clenching and unclenching. He shook his head like someone trying to wake from a dream. “Thirty-one years. You’d think you’d know a person after all that time.”
Matthew nodded, holding the reins lightly while Samson trotted down the dirt track. “Yup. You’d think so.”
“She was such a pretty little thing when I met her. Old man Long, her pa, had a passel of daughters, but she was the best looking of the lot.” His voice trailed away. They rode without speaking for several minutes, then Arthur cleared his throat and continued. “Anyways, she said she’d marry me when I came calling. We settled down there in Flint County. I figured we’d have a houseful of young’uns, but it didn’t happen. Ruby kind of watched over her nieces and nephews, but it ate at her, not having any babies of her own.”
“So you ended up with Ellie when her pa took off.” Matthew fought down impatience at hearing the familiar story once again.
“The way she doted on that child, I figured she was enough for Ruby.” More to himself than to Matthew, he continued, “But now that I think of it, she never seemed satisfied-like.”
Matthew thought of countless occasions when he’d heard Ruby harangue her husband about one thing and another. Unsatisfied was a good way to put it. “Um-hmm.”
“Like she was after something just out of reach. Well, guess she’s found it.” Arthur’s voice faded.
Holding the reins with one hand, Matthew guided Samson onto the lane leading to the Newberrys’ house. When they reached the barn, Arthur climbed out of the wagon and untied King George, then led the animal toward its stall.
Matthew followed.
Turning, the older man jutted out his jaw. “There’s no need to hang around me. I ain’t going to kill nobody.”
“I know that.” He gentled his voice. “Thought maybe there might be something I could do to help.”
“Help what? Bring Ruby back? We don’t even know which way they went.” Arthur pulled off his hat and rubbed a hand over his bald scalp. “Just let me be for a while. I got to think on it before I decide what to do.”
Matthew’s feelings of inadequacy taunted him. His father told him he’d fail, and here was the proof. He couldn’t even help his own family. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll come by later today.”
“No need. See you tomorrow in church.”
He raised his hand in a half wave and walked toward the buckboard.
When Matthew arrived home, Ellie looked up from her kneading, the rolled-up sleeves of her black dress bordered with flour. “How’s Uncle Arthur?”
“Poleaxed.” Matthew dropped heavily into a chair.
“I know how he feels.” Her hands stopped moving, and she rested them on the edge of the bread trough. “I can’t believe this is really true. Seems like any minute now she’ll come through the back door to lend a hand with the baking.” Ellie glanced at him, a frown sketched across her forehead. “Now that I think about it, she hasn’t been here to help in quite a while.” She returned to her task, rocking back and forth as she pushed and folded the mound of dough. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
Matthew walked to the worktable and put his arms around his wife’s waist, lightly, so she’d know he wasn’t thinking of anything but comforting her. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t even guess how you must feel right now.”
She turned and pressed her face into his chest, sobbing. “How could Aunt Ruby go away and leave me? She knows how much I need her.” Matthew held her, his heart aching as she poured out her grief. Finally, she drew a long breath. “I thought about this the whole time you were gone.” She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s worse than a death, Matt. Aunt Ruby had a choice, and she chose to go.”
“Maybe she’ll have second thoughts and come back.” He stepped away.
Ellie slid a chair from beside the table and sank into it. “You know what I keep wondering?”
He shook his head.
“Did I drive her to this because I was so angry about my father?”
His heart constricted. “No. Of course not.” He tried to think of the right thing to say. Knowing how weak his words sounded, he repeated what he’d said before. “Maybe she’ll come back.”
Ellie wiped her eyes on a corner of her apron. “Do you think Uncle Arthur would take her in?” She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “It would be like Hosea and Gomer in the Bible.”
Matthew thought a moment. “I don’t know. Hosea took his wife
back because he had a word from the Lord.” He stroked Ellie’s hair, gazing out the window in the direction of the Newberrys’ farm. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see what kind of a word Arthur receives.”
Dismayed, Matthew surveyed the few worshipers gathered in church for Sunday services. Several benches were unoccupied. He had to confess to himself that he’d anticipated many congregants returning with their tails between their legs after the news of the acting troupe’s ignominious departure spread through town. Then he remembered the rumors about God’s judgment on him. The palms of his hands felt clammy at the thought. He wiped them on his trousers.
Ellie sat with their four children on the first bench. In spite of Arthur’s promise, he hadn’t appeared in his usual place right behind Ellie. That worried Matthew.
His eyes traveled to Molly and Karl who sat with their children on the other side of the center aisle. Ben and Charity Wolcott were also present, as well as a dozen or so of the most faithful worshipers. At the rear, Marcus Beldon sat next to his wife with an expression on his face that could only be described as smug.
With a start, Matthew realized people were looking at him, waiting for him to begin the service. He knelt next to the pulpit. “Let’s pray for the Lord’s anointing on this meeting.”
As soon as the final hymn had been sung, Molly hurried toward him, wide-eyed. “Is it true that Aunt Ruby left town with the Shakespeare troupe? And that the hotel bill wasn’t paid?”
“That’s what I understand. I talked to the clerk at the hotel myself, and he said they must have slipped out sometime after midnight Friday.” Matthew glanced at Ellie. “It’s been a blow to all of us.”
“Poor Arthur.” Molly shook her head. “You know I think that woman is a trial and a sufferance, but he never seems to notice.” She looked behind her at the bench where Arthur would normally be sitting. “He probably didn’t want to face folks today.”
“Not that many folks here to face.” Matthew glanced toward the back of the room. Beldon and his wife were already gone.
Ben joined them and clapped Matthew on the back. “One of your best sermons. ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins—but the first step is confession.’ Food for thought.” He grinned. “Speaking of food, why don’t you and the family take supper with us today?”
Matthew wasn’t fooled by Ben’s cheerful manner. He saw concern in his friend’s eyes, and knew the invitation represented Ben and Charity’s attempt to compensate for the emptiness of the church. “Be glad to. I want to look in on Arthur first. Would you mind if we brought him along?”
“We thought he was at your place.” Ben’s voice registered surprise. “We stopped in to take him with us this morning and he wasn’t there. Buggy was gone too.”
Ellie clutched Matthew’s sleeve. “You’ve got to find him. There’s no telling what he’ll do, upset as he is.”
Matthew looked at Ben. “Will you go with me? There’s still plenty of daylight left.”
Following a fruitless afternoon’s search, Ben and Matthew left again at dawn the next morning. Ben planned to ride north to New Roanoke, on the remote possibility Arthur would have passed through there heading for Chicago.
Matthew traveled east as far as Industry Township, asking about his wife’s uncle at every settlement and farm along the way. No one had seen a plump, middle-aged man driving a buggy pulled by a chestnut roan.
Late in the day Matthew followed the scarlet rays of the setting sun back to Beldon Grove. He’d done all he could think of to do. The image of Ellie’s stricken face burned in his mind.
After stopping at Ben’s and learning his search had also been unsuccessful, Matthew turned toward home. Once there, he didn’t need to tell Ellie anything.
She took one look at his expression and dropped into a chair. “Do you think he’s got himself lost on the prairie?”
Matthew pinched his lower lip. “I pray not.”
“No one saw him? You didn’t find any tracks?”
“No.”
Ellie rested her elbows on the tabletop and buried her face in her hands. Matthew laid a hand on her shoulder, waiting for the sound of sobs, but none came.
After a moment, she raised dry eyes and studied his face. “I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of being left. I’m going to locate my father’s family in Texas and bring them here.”
He stared at her, mouth agape. “What does that have to do with your aunt and uncle? There is no family in Texas. Please. Be realistic.” He lifted his hands. “Besides, if we can’t find Arthur right here in Illinois, how on earth can you expect to track down people hundreds of miles from here?”
“I’ll find a way.”
Matthew stood next to his upended plow inside the barn. Stray bits of hay blew along the packed earth floor at his feet. He dipped a brush into a pail and painted the green moldboard behind the plowshare, covering areas scraped bare by spring plowing. The smell of linseed oil rose to his nostrils after each brushstroke.
The familiar sound of his horses crunching hay in their stalls formed a soothing counterpoint for his tumbling thoughts about Ellie and Arthur.
Sighing, he laid his brush to one side and picked up a narrow paddle, stirring the paint to keep it from separating. As he watched green pigment swirl through the oil base, he heard his children approach the barn.
“You ask him.”
“No, you.”
“What do you boys want?” he asked, recognizing Jimmy and Johnny’s voices. When the twins stepped into the dim interior, he saw Harrison and Maria tagging behind them.
“We want to know . . .” Johnny’s voice trailed off.
Jimmy poked him in the ribs. “Come on. You said you’d do it.”
Matthew placed an arm around Johnny’s shoulder. “It must be important to bring the whole pack of you out here.” Harrison and Maria edged closer, and he used his free hand to give one of Maria’s braids a playful tug. He quirked an eyebrow at the twins and waited.
Johnny took a deep breath. “What’s an adulteress?” The words tumbled out with barely a pause between them.
Four pairs of eyes watched him as he fumbled for a response. Without asking, he knew the term had most likely been overheard after church the previous Sunday. He turned to his daughter. “Maria, you go help your mama get supper on the table. Harrison, you go with her.” As he spoke, he bent over and dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. “This is grown-up talk.”
Reluctantly, the two youngest children left the barn. Arms folded, Matthew watched as they passed the black walnut sapling between the barn and the house and climbed the back steps. He couldn’t help but smile. If they walked any slower, they’d be moving backward.
Then he leaned against the side of a stall and answered his sons. “An adulteress is a married woman who lays with a man who is not her husband.”
“Told you so.” Jimmy said to his brother.
Matthew frowned at them. “Now tell me why you asked such a question.”
“One of the town boys said that’s what Aunt Ruby is.” This time Johnny spoke up with no hesitation.
“Listen to me. We don’t know for certain what happened to your aunt. It’s best not to stoop to name-calling, do you understand?”
“But isn’t that why Uncle Arthur went away? Because his wife is a bad woman?”
Putting an arm around each of his sons, he hugged them to him. “You miss your uncle, don’t you?”
They nodded.
“So do I. And I’m worried about him. But listening to gossip and repeating it will do more harm than good. You know what the Bible says about being a talebearer.”
Jimmy’s face reddened. “Yes, Papa.”
“We’re sorry,” Johnny added.
Matthew pulled his watch from his pocket and snapped the lid open. “More than an hour before supper. Plenty of time for you to hoe a couple rows of corn.”
He watched the boys as they walked to the cornfield, his lips pressed in a tight lin
e, wishing that he could protect his children from life’s hurts.
The following week, Matthew drove his family to his sister’s house so Ellie could join Molly and Charity Wolcott for their Thursday afternoon quilting session. Maria sat between them on the front seat, and their three boys rode in the rear, legs dangling over the open back of the buckboard. Taking the children allowed the youngsters an afternoon of play with their cousins while Ellie visited with the women.
She hadn’t brought up the subject of her possible Texas family since the day he’d returned from searching for Arthur. He hoped it had been a passing fancy, brought on by the shock of Arthur and Ruby’s disappearances. “It’s good to see you so pert.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this. I miss having other women to talk to.” She gave him a sideways glance over the top of Maria’s head. “Sundays aren’t as good for visiting as they used to be.”
“No, they’re not,” he said, glad she’d brought the subject of his eroding congregation into the open.
They’d tiptoed around it long enough. Last week, even the Beldons were missing. Matthew intended to seek Ben’s advice while his family spent the afternoon at Molly’s.
When Matthew entered the mercantile, the customer at the counter glanced at him, then dropped his eyes. Matthew walked over to him and put out his right hand. “How’ve you been? I’ve missed seeing you in church.”
After a moment’s pause, Orville Carstairs shook his hand without enthusiasm. “I’m fine. We’ve been, uh, worshiping somewheres else.”
As far as Matthew knew, the church he pastored was the only church in Beldon Grove. Across the counter, Ben lifted his index finger in a “wait a moment” motion. Glancing between the two men, Matthew realized there was something Ben wanted to tell him, and he didn’t want to do it in front of Orville.
“Well, give my best to your wife.” He laid a hand on Orville’s shoulder. “Tell her the lilac start she gave Mrs. Craig is flourishing.”
“I’ll do that.” Clutching his parcel, he fled the store.