With a final look at the family, Addie blotted the wet spot on the photograph again and put the picture facedown in the trunk. She felt all around inside the empty trunk, but there was no sign of money. Mindful of the way Welcome had repacked Emma’s trunk, Addie folded Ned’s things and closed the lid. She was about to search the rest of the room, but the horse in the stall neighed. Addie quickly left the room, locked the door, and replaced the key. Then she stroked the horse for a moment and left the barn. Welcome was sitting beside the chicken house, watching her.
“You been in there a long time,” she observed.
Addie started to tell Welcome to mind her business, but she stopped. Welcome was her friend now, maybe her only friend, she thought with a surge of self-pity. Besides, after the two of them had gone through Emma’s things, Addie’s snooping in Ned’s trunk didn’t seem so bad. Of course, Welcome didn’t know that’s what she’d been doing. Addie didn’t reply.
“Looks like you forgot to put out the lamp.”
Addie spun around and saw light coming from between the cracks of Ned’s room. She hurried back for the key, opened the door, and blew out the lamp. When she returned to Welcome, Addie said, “I guess it’s my business what I’m doing in my barn.”
“Guess it is,” Welcome replied. “What you want for supper? I was thinking sage tea and chicken gruel.” She laughed good-naturedly.
“How about a beefsteak? You feel like beefsteak?”
Welcome grinned at her. “I always feel like beefsteak. It fits my insides easiest. I’ll make you a cake, too. You come along, and I’ll let you sop out the bowl, just like in your coming-up time.”
“I never had anything to sop in my coming-up time,” Addie said.
Welcome gave a short bark of a laugh. “Neither did I, child. Hell and damnation, by God, neither did I.”
Addie didn’t see Ned for two more days. She didn’t see Emma either, although at night, whenever Addie went into the kitchen, she noticed the bedroom door was closed and knew the woman was inside. Then on Sunday noon, after a slow Saturday night that she blamed on Emma’s presence at The Chili Queen, Addie locked up the house, sent the girls to bed, and went into the kitchen, where she found Ned and Emma waiting for her.
“I wondered maybe you moved out,” Addie said to Emma.
Emma eyed her, then said with a hint of annoyance, “I know I am a burden to you. I will leave as soon as my brother sends the money.”
“We got an idea,” Ned said.
Addie considered him a moment, then said, “Let’s talk about it in the parlor. I could use me a drink.”
The three of them started for the front of the house, followed by Welcome. “You’re not wanted,” Ned said.
“Oh, I don’t have secrets from her. She can stay,” Addie told him.
Ned started to protest, but after looking from Addie to Welcome and back again at Addie, who had put her hands on her hips, Ned said, “Suit yourself, honey.”
Addie sat down, taking up the entire sofa, which was red and slightly soiled. Ned and Emma seated themselves on chairs facing her, while Welcome blended into the semidarkness next to the long plush curtain that spread out on the floor like the train of a dress. Addie poured herself a glass of whiskey and handed the bottle to Ned, who poured one for himself. Emma reached for the bottle and two glasses, filled one and handed it to Welcome, then filled another. Before Addie could raise her glass, Emma had drunk hers.
“You don’t usually see ladies take their whiskey like that,” Addie observed.
“You don’t see ladies take whiskey at all,” Emma replied. She added softly, “I suppose I do not fit the classification of a lady anymore. You said it yourself.”
“What are you going to do with that money when you get it?” Addie asked her.
Emma lifted her glass to her lips, then realized it was empty and set it down. Addie pushed the bottle toward her, and Emma filled it again, but this time she only sipped the liquor. “I have not decided,” Emma replied. “I have always fancied seeing San Francisco.”
Addie nodded. “Me, too.”
Ned cleared his throat, and the three women turned to him. He seemed nervous, but Addie didn’t especially care about putting him at ease. She toyed with a strand of hair that had come out of the knot at the back of her head, then pinned the loose hair in place. “Well, what is it?”
“Me and Emma have an idea, about that bank in Jasper you told me about.”
Addie had indeed told him about the Jasper bank. She had had it in mind that Ned should rob it ever since the bank president had visited The Chili Queen in the spring and sweet-talked Addie into giving him a free time with Broken-Nose Frankie, promising to let Addie have a business loan at a favorable rate. Addie had wanted the money to do a little work around The Chili Queen, so she’d dipped into her own pocket to give Miss Frankie the fifty percent she would have earned from a paying customer. But when Addie had taken the train to Jasper and called on the banker to make good on the loan, he’d denied he was ever at The Chili Queen and refused her. Of course, Addie shouldn’t have asked him for the money when his wife was visiting the bank, but how was she to know he was married to the sharp-nosed woman in black merino? No matter what the circumstances, there’d been no call for him to say she was “the spit of the devil.”
Addie’d been itching to get even ever since, and she’d told Ned about the bank, but Ned hadn’t been keen on robbing anything that close to home. Now, however, after spending all that time with Emma, Ned must have figured out a way to get away from her—by going off to Jasper to rob the bank. Addie almost smirked as she cocked her head and leaned back against the settee. “And?”
“Me and Emma thought we’d take it.”
“What!” Addie jerked upright and stared at Ned. “What do you mean you and Emma?” Welcome let out a sound like a growl.
“Me and Emma, we’re going to take it,” Ned repeated. He glanced at Emma for confirmation, but she was staring at Welcome.
“Emma doesn’t know as much about robbing a bank as a dog does about Sunday,” Addie snorted. She glared at Emma.
“You said it would be as easy as honey to knock over,” Ned persisted.
“Yeah, as easy as licking honey off a thornbush—with her along.” Addie gestured with her head to Emma. “Oh, that’s a fool idea all right.” She stood up, but the room was too small for pacing, and she sat back down and asked Emma, “What do you know about taking a bank? You think it’s as easy as getting a money order, do you? You just walk in and say, ‘Give me your money, if you please?’”
“Ned will do the robbing,” Emma said quickly. “I’m just going along with him so people won’t be suspicious. I’ll pretend to be his sister. Who’d expect a bank robber to take along his sister? Ned says there’s no danger in it at all. At all.” Before Addie could reply, Emma added, “I am of a mind to do it. I have already strayed. One more transgression won’t matter much. You need not worry about my soul.”
“I won’t.”
Ned set his glass on the table, sloshing the liquor over the side. He had not touched it. “We talked it out. We’ll say we’re farmers going into town to buy supplies. If it looks too dangerous, we’ll turn around and come on home.”
“It’s against my wants,” Addie said. “You’ll get caught.”
“We’ll be careful. I’ll be all right since I won’t leave the wagon,” Emma said. Then she added with a touch of iron in her voice that Addie had not heard before, “I believe I can do anything I set my mind to.”
“I’m not so worried about you getting caught. I’m worried about Ned.”
Before Emma could reply, Welcome blurted out, “No! God, my deliverer, no!”
The other three turned to her in surprise. “Oh, hush up,” Ned said. “It’s not your business.”
“’Tis,” Welcome replied. She twisted her dark hands in her white apron. “’Tis if you get caught. Then where’s my two hundred and fifty dollars?”
“We won’t
get caught, neither of us,” Emma told her softly.
Welcome stepped forward so that they could see her better and shook her head. “It’s devilment. You will get caught, and they’ll come after us, come after me.”
“What have you done that you don’t want anybody to find out about?” Ned asked.
Welcome stared him down. When Ned looked away, Welcome said, “The only real sin I committed was I was a dancer.” She looked at the others to see if they would challenge her. They didn’t.
“I will not be found wanting,” Emma said quietly, looking at Welcome. “I performed in amateur theatricals at home and believe I can act a little. I’m not so good, but I’m not so bad, either.” She looked down at her hands. “I—we—will not get caught. I promise you.”
“Oh, promise, la!” Addie said. “How can you promise? I bet you never did anything in your life against the law.”
Emma didn’t answer.
“You’d risk everything—?” Welcome asked, but Emma interrupted.
“I’m not risking anything,” Emma said, sending Welcome a look Addie didn’t understand.
The four of them sat there for a moment, not saying a word. Addie could hear Miss Tillie and Miss Belle upstairs arguing and knew she should see what the fuss was about. Miss Tillie could turn mean, and when she fought with Miss Belle, she would commonly smack her over. Something dropped on the floor above them, and Addie raised her eyes to the ceiling. She sighed. The business overwhelmed her sometimes.
“Then I guess it’s settled. Me and Emma will leave at sunup tomorrow.”
“What?” Addie asked, forgetting the two boarders. “We have to think on this some more. Besides, you don’t have to leave so soon.”
“I’m done thinking,” Ned said.
“We want to be back by the time John’s letter arrives,” Emma added. “I shall not impose any longer than I have to.”
Before Addie could respond, there was another thump on the ceiling. Addie turned to Welcome. “You go up there and swat their behinds.”
The hired woman straightened her long skirt, then smoothed her apron. “Don’t you mess this up,” she said, although it was not clear whether she was talking to Ned or Emma. Then she took the stairs two at a time as she called, “You stop that racket or I’ll cut your ears off.”
Addie glared at Ned and Emma. “No good will come of it. No good at all.”
“Oh, I feel lucky,” Ned told her.
“Well, I don’t,” Addie said, thinking she had the damndest luck of anybody she knew.
Ned
Four
Ned was always an admirer of sunrises. From his first days in the West when he was a runaway boy, he had been gladdened by the dawn over the prairie. He loved the beauty as the day began to break, the black sky softening into gray, the faint streak of yellow light, then flash following flash of violent color—rose and purple and magenta—as far as the eye could reach. He never failed to hold his breath as the sun slid over the horizon like a giant gold watch. If he rode late at night, he waited until sunrise to bed down. And when he stayed at The Chili Queen, he sometimes rose at dawn just to watch the day begin, going back to bed only when the color in the sky faded into blue, the pale shade of a shirt that had been washed again and again. Once, when the sunrise filled the heavens with streaks of pink and orange, Ned awakened Addie to see the wonder of it, but she muttered she had never seen a sunrise that was worth missing two minutes of sleep. She’d take a sunset any day. Not Ned. Sunset was the beginning of darkness; sunrise meant a whole new, glad day ahead, filled with the gift of surprise. From the first time Ned had seen the western sunrise, with the daylight washing over the prairie, turning the brown grasses to gold, he had felt his boy’s heart lift and was filled with a sense of freedom he’d never even dreamed about at his father’s farm on the Mississippi.
Ned turned to look at the sunrise over his shoulder that morning, as he drove west in the wagon with Emma beside him. He didn’t say a word, but gestured behind him with his head, and she twisted about to see the spectacle.
“The orb of day,” Emma said, as the orange ball popped up over the horizon, all but blinding Ned when he turned to look again.
“What’s that?” Ned asked.
“It’s what the poet calls the sun,” Emma explained.
She was a smart one. Ned liked sitting beside a woman who read poetry, not that he’d ever read any himself. Still, he appreciated an intelligent woman.
“It’s the best time of day. The world is deserted. I can believe I am the only one about,” Emma continued.
“Well, you are,” Ned said, “except for me.” He turned to smile at her, but it was too dark for Emma to see his face. Besides, she was looking straight ahead now, down the road, away from Nalgitas.
They had been in the wagon for two hours. Ned told her they would leave early because the drive was a long one. That was true, but he was anxious to be on the road before Addie awoke with another reason why robbing the bank at Jasper was a bad idea. So he’d gotten up at three, put on a new shirt, hitched the horses to the wagon, then gone to The Chili Queen to awaken Emma. When he reached the house, he found her fully dressed, arguing in heavy whispers with Welcome. The two grew silent when they heard Ned’s footsteps on the back porch, and he wondered if they had been talking about him.
“I’m short of gladness to see you here,” Welcome told him.
“She had hoped you’d oversleep and not awaken until it was too late for us to leave,” Emma laughed. “But never mind her. I, for one, am glad to see you, glad to be going.”
“You haven’t no right to taken her,” Welcome told Ned.
“You just want Emma around to do your work,” Ned replied. He was even more cheerful than usual.
Welcome sniffed. She finished packing a dinner in a basket and gave it to Emma. Then she picked up Emma’s carpetbag and handed it to Ned. “If you let her be captivated, I’ll raise revolution.”
“I reckon she’s not your concern,” Ned said. “For a hired woman, you sure do mind other folks’ business.”
“It’s terrible dangerous what you are setting out to do, and I got money on her,” Welcome responded. “What if she don’t come back?”
“Welcome is only being protective. Women alone are like that. They look out for each other,” Emma explained to Ned. She had put on the black traveling dress and bonnet she had worn on the train, but had draped a cape over her shoulders, since early mornings on the prairie were cold.
“Why’s that?” Ned asked, wondering how Emma knew such a thing. He started for the door.
Emma seemed to read his mind. “A woman knows,” she replied vaguely. She turned to Welcome. “Now don’t worry. We shall come back as good as ever.”
“And quicker than a chicken can fly, I expect,” Welcome muttered sourly. She followed the two out onto the back porch and watched them make their way to the barn, wringing her hands under her apron.
“You tell Addie not to worry, either,” Ned called softly, so as not to awaken her. He knew Addie never worried about his safety, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
In the end, Addie had agreed to Ned’s plan, maybe because she realized there was no way to stop him. But she’d refused to let him take her horses. Somebody might recognize them and then where would she be? Ned knew that wasn’t the reason. Addie hoped that if he had to arrange for horses himself, Ned would reconsider the robbery. But he was stubborn, and his pride was at stake, not just with Addie but with Emma. He wasn’t much of a man if he let the madam of a whorehouse tell him what to do. Ned wasn’t sure why, but it mattered to him what Emma thought. So, he’d gone into town the night before and bought a couple of nags—black ones. Addie shuddered at the sight of them, although Ned didn’t know why.
Addie hadn’t said anything about not using her wagon, so Ned had hitched the horses to it.
He opened the barn door and led the horses out. Then he helped Emma onto the wagon seat. She turned and waved to Welcome
as they pulled out, but Ned couldn’t tell if Welcome waved back, for the woman was hidden in the darkness with only her white apron visible. He could see the apron like a flag until The Chili Queen disappeared from view.
Ned and Emma didn’t talk much the first couple of hours, and when they did, they kept their voices low, as if they were afraid someone would overhear them. Ned felt Emma shiver beside him, and he reached for a blanket and handed it to her. She took off her bonnet, and wrapped herself in the blanket, with the fold over her head. When he glanced at her, Ned thought she looked purely Mexican. It was a good thing she could change her looks like that. When you were on Ned’s side of the law, you wanted to confuse people about your appearance. As good-looking as he was, Ned, too, could make himself unmemorable. That was why he was daring to rob a bank so close to home. With the Santa Fe bank, he’d been foolish to brag about the haul. This time, he would keep his mouth shut, and no one would connect him with the robbery.
The horses plodded along, and Ned remarked that he did not believe they would out-travel even a man on foot. He explained to Emma that they had been the only animals available. The blacksmith had just bought a pair of fine horses, but he’d run them to ground before he’d sell them to Ned or Addie, even at a good profit.
Emma didn’t ask why. Instead, she said, “I am reposed in the belief these horses are fine. People would wonder about dirt farmers with animals as good as Addie’s. And a wagon is the ideal mode of travel. It would be unseemly to arrive on horseback.” It was uncanny that Ned was also thinking there was an advantage in traveling as they did. He nodded and slapped the reins over the animals’ backs, although the horses kept on plodding.
“You can change your mind anytime,” Ned told her. He’d been saying that ever since they’d agreed to rob the Jasper bank. “I mean, you can change your mind right up till we walk up to the bank door. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
Ned had expected Emma to back out even before they left Nalgitas. But she had told him, “You shall not find me a reluctant companion.” He was surprised that she had agreed to the plan in the first place. But then, he had already decided Emma was not altogether what she seemed.
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