The Willows

by Mathew Sperle

  You had done all he could, he thought as he pulled down the bayou. It was in Gwen’s hands now.

  Chapter 21

  Clutching the license, Gwen went into the cabin, trying to figure out where everything had gone so completely wrong. Last night had been so wonderful, yet in a few confusing minutes, the magic had vanished, and they were back to fighting again. Nothing had changed. Making the man love her was hopeless.

  “Where is Uncle Michael?” Christopher asked the minute she stepped inside the room. The other children waited, they’re anxious faces suggesting they heard Gwen arguing with Michael. “Did he get angry at you again?”

  She nodded, crossing the room to sit at the table, she found she was suddenly, overwhelming tired. She felt worn to the bone.

  Jude came up to setting hand on her shoulder. “He did not mean it. He needs you too much to stay angry. You make him smile.”

  With utter dismay, Gwen began to cry. Too late, she saw the thing she could have said, should have said. What happened to her decision to offer Michael patience and understanding? She had reacted as she always had, speaking on impulse and regretting later. A relationship so new, so fragile, could she have done permanent damage?

  She refused to believe it. Hadn’t Mrs. Tibbs told her that anything worth having was worth fighting for? And considering the man was Michael, she should be ready to fight to the death.

  Before the day was done, she meant to give Michael his land, and while she was at the Willows, she’d find someone to file the papers with the parish clerk. No more running away; this time she would fight for what she wanted, even if it meant battling Michael himself.

  Standing quickly, she went to the cupboard to gather a snack for the journey. “You are right about Michael needing me,” she told Jude, “but he has to be shown just how much. Help me pack. I’m going to the Willows.”

  “You can’t leave us!”

  “Startled, Gwen Spun. All five children staring at her with alarm. “I am not leaving alone,” she said, remembering her promise to all of them. “I’m taking you all with me.”

  Jude shook her head. “What about Michael? He will be expecting us here for dinner.”

  Gwen searched through the cupboard. “We have food left over from the party. And we can leave a note. Has anyone seen the Brown jug?”

  “He won’t understand. He’ll think we deserted him?” Jude looked to her brothers. “You go on if you want to, but I ain’t leaving Uncle Michael.”

  Even in her preoccupied station with the jug, Gwen sense the tension in the room. Looking from Jude’s challenging glare to her brothers guilty expressions, she realized the boys wanted to go, anywhere. “You have to come with me,” she said to the girl gently. “I cannot leave you behind.”

  “Why now? Why now wait until Michael is around?”

  For an instant, Gwen was tempted to explain, but she had only vague hopes, no guarantees that her father would give her the land and she hated to raise false hopes. As Michael pointed out, and these children have had too many shattered dreams for her to be adding another. “Try to understand. This is something I must do without your uncle knowing.”

  Jude turned away. “I am not going anywhere,” she said stubbornly. “I have got my gun and the fortress. I will be fine until Michael gets home.”

  “I will stay with her.” Patrick spoke solely, proving this was a sacrifice. “We won’t all fit in the boat anyway.”

  Looking from one to the other, Gwen knew there was no other way to do this, yet she was sad to leave them alone. Maybe she could go quickly and hurry back before dark. Abandoning her search for the job, she turned to the three younger boys. “Go outside and get your boat ready. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return.

  As the boys scrambled off, Jude gave you snort of disgust. “Don’t bother lying. We ain’t stupid. We know your ain’t coming back.”

  Gwen crossed the room to stand before her, lifting the locket off the girl’s chest. “This was once my link to my mother, and it’s now my link to you. You’re an important part of my life, Jude. I can’t ever leave you.”

  “Then why are you leaving?”

  The girl sounded close to tears. In her mind, Gwen could hear Jude saying that grown-ups always leave her. Feeling the pain in her own throat, she did the best to smile. “For reasons I cannot explain now. I have to go home, Jude, but I am coming back. You have my word.”

  It pained Gwen to think of her promise, hours later, as she sat in the boat listening to the twins argue. Short of a miracle, they weren’t going anywhere. Not to the cabin, not even to the Willows-they were hopelessly lost.

  Too late, she recalled how Michael had worn heard never to get any boat with Peter. The twins had been fighting all morning, going one direction than in another. Growing steadily more anxious, Gwen was ready to turn around, when she heard a shout from behind.

  “Gwen. My God, Gwen, is that you?”

  She turned in the seat to seat Edith’s friend, Hamilton, waving to them from his own boat. Standing, waving frantically, the man was one second away from capsizing.

  Afraid that her mission was far become a farce, Gwen told Peter to row them closer. Picking up his oars, Hampton gestured them to follow. “Quick, your cousin needs to talk to you at once.”

  ***

  Hearing a commotion downstairs, Edith race down to hush the hopeless fools before they could wake up her uncle. Though with all the mount of medication he took, uncle John should sleep for a week.

  Nerves strain raw from worry about constant nursing, she opened her mouth to rant at the noisemakers, only to stop at the site of the children. The two oldest arguing with each other, and the little boy holding onto the tattered blue skirt of his… But no, that was not his mother. It was Gwen.

  Edith ran down the remaining steps, taking her cousin by the arms. “Thank heavens, you are all right. I thought… Did he hurt you?”

  Gwen began to laugh. “If you mean Hamilton, no.”

  Edith looked at her old friend. Face flush with embarrassment, wearing mismatched shirt and trousers, Hamilton didn’t look like much of a hero. It had been easy to overlook them in the past, but more and more often, Edith found him quite trustworthy since he got the job done.

  As impulsively as she grabbed her cousin, she took his hands to thank him. Hamilton stiffen, his gaze going direct and intense as the awareness pass between them. Blushing Edith properly dropped his hands.

  “And if you mean these rascals. They didn’t hurt me either, though they did try my patience. Peter, Paul, and Christopher,” she added comment to each boy, “this is my cousin, Edith.”

  Nudged by Gwen, they did into courtesy bows. Edith smiled, for despite the dirt and ragged clothing, they were adorable. “Are they Michael’s kids?”

  “They are his nephews, and my new family.” As each boy smiled at Gwen, she smiled down at them. “So you can see, there was no need to fear that Michael had been hurting me.”

  “Well, he hasn’t been kind to your wardrobe.”

  Gwen twirled in her beat up blue dress. “Is it in amazing? I hardly think about what I wear anymore, not with all the mud and water. It seems when I’m not cleaning up after children, I’m busy gutting fish.”

  Edith’s job drop. This was her cousin, talking so lightly and loud about crazy things. Had the poor girl caught a fever?

  “I can even cook now,” when added proudly. “If you want, I can help out with meals…” She pause, bit her lip. “What am I thinking of? I can’t stay. As soon as I’ve talked to daddy, I have got to get back.”

  “Back?”

  “Yes, Hamilton has very nice he sketched out the route for our return trip. That’s why the boys were arguing. To decide who was rowing us back.”

  “You, Gwen, want to go back to the swamp?”

  Gwen smiled at the children. “The cabin is my home now. Patrick and Jude are waiting for me. So is Michael.”

  Whatever disease Gwen had, even decided, it seemed worth cat
ching. Never had she seen her cousin so happy, so radiant, and so strong about what she wanted.

  “Where is daddy?” She asked, looking past Edith and down the hall.

  Edith knew she must tell her, but in the light of such happiness, it was hard to find the words. Nor was she given much opportunity, for her father marched into the hallway with Bentwood Tillman trailing behind him. So effusive was Jervis in his greetings, only either seem to notice how far from pleased he was to see his niece. She alone saw his tightly controlled theory as Gwen handed a paper to Mr. Tillman.

  “Would you please file this marriage license with the parish clerk? This should make it official. And hopefully, sure everyone that I was not tricked into marrying Michael.”

  “Have you spoken with your father about this?” Jervis held his arms tight to his sides, no doubt stopping his attempt to snatching at the paper.

  “Not yet, but I mean two, at length.”

  Edith admired the way Gwen faced him down. It would be nice to have evening ounce of her courage, but then, Gwen didn’t realize how nasty her uncle could get.

  He gave her a hand, though. “Take care what you say,” said coldly. “I won’t have you pestering John when he’s lying at death’s door.”

  Clearly alarm, Gwen turned you, who could think of nothing to say.

  “Your father is ill,” Hamilton said gently, stepping up beside them. Even so quiet, Edith had forgotten he was there “that is why I went looking for you. For you can talk with him.”

  “Sick?” Gwen’s glare went to her uncle. “I have got to see him.”

  “Leave John be,” Jervis told her, taking Mr. Tillman’s arm to lead him away to the library. “You’re too late anyway.”

  Gwen shook her head in this belief as they retreated.

  That was the difference between her father and cousin, Edith realized. Jervis worried about who would get the Willows, while Gwn was more concerned with her father’s life.

  “Your father is just sleeping now,” Edith reassured her. “But I won’t lie to you. It’s bad, Gwen. He won’t last much longer.”

  Can I see him, talk to him?”

  Edith frowned. “Of course but I had to give him quite amount of drugs for his pain. Could be some time before he wakes up.”

  Biting her lip, Gwen glance at the children. “Maybe the boys and I should go upstairs, to freshen up while we wait. Considering the hourly left this morning, is probably won’t hurt to rest up.”

  There was a chorus of protests, to which Hamilton helped. “Why don’t you go up on and help Gwen get the boys settled in her room.” He told Edith. “I can wait in the parlor until you are done.”

  Watching his face as he shrugged off Gwen’s quite thanks for his help, Edith finally understood Hamilton’s charm. No drama, just patiently standing by, rushing to the rescue when he needed him.

  As he went into the parlor, Gwen nudged her arm “you go and talk to Hamilton. The boys and I can find our own way upstairs.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Go on,” Gwen said gently. “You will gain nothing from being a coward.”

  After Gwen had herded the boys upstairs, Edith went to stand before the parlor door for the longest time, but in the and, she left without going in. She had chores required her attention, she told herself. But worst of all, she truly was a coward.

  ***

  Worried about her father, as well as the children back at the cabin, Gwen bustled about, straining the close sheet let strain about her room. Weeks ago, she’d been in such a of bus or having no servants, she’d tossed her viable dresses to the floor with little regard. No wonder the boys quickly deserted heard to go exploring; the room was a disaster.

  As long as she must wait for her father to way, she decided to wash your clothes, a task she never had dream of doing earlier. Gathering and sorting them, she saw her carpetbag in the corner. Eyed that it never occurred to her to fully unpack it. There might be clean underwear inside, she thought hopefully, or even a dress to change into while she washed her laundry.

  As she dumped the bag on the bed, she saw the clean underwear and the calling card next to it. Lifting of the card, she recalled the day Mrs. Tibbs had presented it. She could see now that she been a terrible snob, too self-absorbed to see that the river own way, the woman had been trying to help her.

  Gwen had a sudden urge to see the impossible woman, to hear some more of her down to earth advice.

  Opening her door, Edith, clearly surprised to find her cousin gathering clothes. “I need to keep busy,” Gwen offered with a shrug as she lifted up the pile. “It is not fair to leave you with such a mess.”

  “I came to see if you have any correspondence to be taken to the city. Hamilton is heading downriver soon, and has offered to take our mail.”

  When thought again of Mrs. Tibbs. Maybe she could write to her.

  “If you want, I can help you in a moment,” Edith went on with a tight smile, “but first I must drop off a letter. Daddy seems to have found himself some trouble again.”

  Hard not to hear her bitterness. “What is wrong? Can I help?”

  Gliding into the room, Edith waived a letter in the air. “He promised that he would quit gambling, but this is the third Bank of this month to call in a loan. I declare, I don’t know where he finds these establishments. I’ve never heard of this Barclay and Tibbs.”

  Surprised by the name, Gwen remembered Eleanor mentioning her connections. “My traveling partner from Boston was named Tibbs. I wonder if she has any relation.”

  “I wouldn’t think there would be too many Tibbs wandering about the city.”

  “Actually, I was just thinking of writing to her. Maybe I can ask if she can make an extension on uncles loan.”

  “You would do that for us?”

  “Of course. Your family.”

  Edith looked suddenly miserable. “Oh, Gwen, how can you be so nice, when I was so awful to you?”

  Gwen set the pile of clothes on the bed. “Come on now. We have both done some silly things-“

  Edith shook her head. “You don’t understand. It’s my fault, what happened to you. If not for me and my jealousy, you would’ve married Lance, I Set Michael in your path, hoping he would distract you. I wanted Lance so badly, I cut his cinch at the competition, just to make sure you couldn’t have him.”

  Gwen found a hard to hide her shock. “But that was so dangerous. He could have been badly hurt.”

  “I realize that now, but at the time-“she shook her head, tears pouring from her eyes. “Gwen, I am not proud of what I did, but I wanted Lance so much. You know what it’s like to love somebody so, you think you will die if you can’t have them?”

  Gwen thought instantly of Michael, of what she might do to have him, and cannot bring herself to resent her cousin. “As long as no one was hurt, I must admit, you did me a favor. I’ve discovered I never really wanted to marry Lance.”

  She expected joy, or even relief, but Edith instead burst did into tears. “Oh Gwen, I could be in a heap of trouble. I think… I think I am carrying Lance’s baby.”

  Though shocked to the core, Gwen reached for her cousin to give her a much needed hug.

  “I thought I loved him,” Edith cried on her shoulder. “But he and father have been, well, it’s gone so I don’t trust them. And then there is Hamilton… Gwen, it’s all so confusing. I no longer know what to do.”

  “I know,” Gwen, patted her back. “Why not try tackling one thing at a time? Have you told Lance about the baby?”

  Edith shook her head.

  “How about Hamilton? Have you spoken with him?”

  Her cousin looks startled. “Why would I talk to Hamilton?”

  Because the man’s loved you for years, when wanted to tell her, but Hamilton might better convince her cousin of the fact. “He is a good friend,” he said instead. “And he has always been there to help you.”

  Edith looked to her as if she had just made an awesome discovery. “Gwen, I am
so glad you are home.”

  Gwen nodded, but in her mind, when she thought of the word home, she saw the cabin. How quickly one’s perception could change, how the Willows can now seem to big and empty and lonely.

  “Go down and talk to Hamilton. And while you’re at it, ask if he will take my letter to Mrs. Tibbs. We can’t have Jervis complicating matters by being carted off to prison.”

  “But you have worries of your own. You don’t need to be dealing with our troubles.”

  “I’m not being entirely selfless,” Gwen said honestly. I have a few things I would like to talk over with Mrs. Tibbs. The women has the knack of saying what I need to hear.”

  Even as she spoke, Gwen realize that the words were as much for herself as for her cousin. The problems were piling up faster than she could deal with them, as were the hours she been away from the cabin. Hold on, Jude, she thought in a mental message to the girl. I’m coming home soon as possible.

  Her thoughts shifted to her father, silently pleading with him to wake from his dream. There would be no going home, she knew, until she had spoken with her father.

  At least she had done part of her mission, she realize what they slowly spreading smiled. Nothing else, she could rest easy, knowing the marriage license was filed.

  ***

  Jervis eyed at the license atop his desk with the satisfaction and relief. It had taken a bottle of his brother’s best whiskey, but he sent Tillman off so plastered, it should take the lawyer a week to realize this license was missing from his case. By then, Lance would have wedded and bedded Gwen.

  Where was that Idiot, that hadn’t get answer his summons? Did not Lance realize that they had it a second to spare? John’s life was wasting away; it would be just like his brother to die before Jervis was ready.

  Hearing a horse approach, Jervis stormed outside, rounding on Lance before he fully dismounted. “Where in the hell have you been?”