Beneath The Texas Sky

by Jodi Thomas

  Ben ate in the dining room, and to everyone’s surprise, insisted Bethanie join him. They talked very little.during the meals, but slowly Bethanie lost most of her fear of him. He constantly referred to her as Beth, which bothered her, but she felt it would have been rude to comment. Though he never complimented her, neither did he criticize her as he did Allison. The only subject she and Ben both seemed to enjoy was horses. Bethanie would have thought, since a horse put him in a wheelchair, he’d hate the animal. Yet he bore no resentment to the creatures and seemed to enjoy Bethanie’s stories of growing up on a farm where horses were bred.

  On the fourth evening of Bethanie’s stay, a storm darkened the spring sky. Thunder rattled the house as she sat mending one piece of clothing after another from a large pile Ruth had given her to finish. Ben worked at his desk as usual. A comfortable silence rested between them. Allison was in bed and Ruth had retired to her small room off the kitchen.

  Ben broke the hour’s silence. “I got a telegram from your uncle today.” His voice was completely void of emotion or interest.

  Bethanie glanced up, trying to hide the fear she felt growing inside her. “Is he coming?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes,” Ben answered, his mahogany eyes now watching her closely. He pulled at the short hair of his beard as he studied her.

  “When?” Bethanie asked, dropping her sewing in her lap. She hated having to pry information out of Ben, but he seemed unwilling to volunteer any.

  “Three, maybe four days.” Ben returned to his papers, ending the discussion.

  Bethanie tried to steady her fingers and continue sewing. She had nothing to fear from Uncle Wilbur now. Josh was near. Yet even the thought of seeing Wilbur again sent icy chills up her spine. She’d never forget his pawing fat fingers pulling at her clothes. The simple sewing task now seemed impossible as the memory of his assault invaded her thoughts.

  Bethanie excused herself quickly and disappeared into her room. She was thankful to Ben for giving her a room alone. The fearful nightmares she always dreamed hadn’t plagued her here. The room was warm and inviting, with a beautiful patchwork quilt on the bed and a hand-carved rocking chair beside a tiny fireplace. The only rug in the house circled in front of the fireplace and a lovely full-length mirror, also hand-carved, stood in one corner. Everything in the room had been left untouched as if the woman who decorated it might return any day.

  Bethanie felt more at home in this room than she had anywhere since she had left Ohio. Tonight, as always, she left the door open slightly. It was comforting to know Ben was just across the hallway. Though he barked a great deal, he was no threat as a man to her. Yet his nearness seemed to keep her haunting dream at bay.

  As Bethanie turned up the lantern, she noticed something dark lying over the bedspread. She lifted the material to discover a dress of chocolate brown.

  Ben’s harsh voice sounded from the doorway. “I had Ruth wash it for you. It was one of my mother’s.”

  Bethanie turned to face him, holding the dress like a treasure. “It’s wonderful, but I can’t accept it.”

  “Nonsense, Beth, you’re earned it ten times over these past few days. It’s nothing fancy, just warm and serviceable. I hope it fits. My mother was tall, but not as tall as you are. I asked Ruth to let the hem down.”

  Bethanie was moved by his unexpected kindness. Not one man in a hundred would think of the details, but Ben’s sharp dark eyes apparently missed little.

  She knelt beside his chair. “Thank you, Ben.” She would have touched his hand, but he wheeled backward, out of reach.

  “I just hate seein’ a woman dressed like a man. You’ll find undergarments in the chest. Help yourself to them and if you need anything else, you’ve only to ask.” He seemed embarrassed at the whole conversation. “Say no more about it. Good night, Beth.” He wheeled across the hall and went into his bedroom.

  The next morning Bethanie bathed and put on her new dress. Ben had been right; it was nothing fancy, only a plain wool, but it was far nicer than anything she’d worn in months. The bust was snug and the waist a few inches too big, but Bethanie thought it was grand. She brushed her hair to a shiny gold, then hurried to join Ben at breakfast.

  “Good morning.” Bethanie smiled as she neared the table.

  Ben’s only reaction was to lift his maverick eyebrow. “Not much good about it, or hadn’t you noticed? Rain still coming down in buckets.”

  Bethanie slipped into her chair. She’d slept wonderfully last night during the rain, dreaming of the stormy night in the cave. She awoke once and could almost feel Josh’s arms around her. A memory now flashed through her mind as she thought of something she’d seen in the darkness. She remembered rolling over and seeing the shadow of Ben in his wheelchair at her door. Bethanie cleared her mind. She must have dreamed it. She helped herself to some eggs and began to eat in silence.

  Ben bumped the table leg as he moved to refill his coffee cup. Bethanie glanced up from her plate. “I’ll refill that for you,” she offered.

  “I don’t need any help,” Ben snapped, “and I never ask for anything.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bethanie answered, embarrassed and surprised at his outburst.

  “Don’t ever be sorry for me. Understand, Beth?” Ben yelled as he slammed his fist hard on the table.

  Bethanie’s green eyes flashed fire as she forced herself to remain silent. She stared at Ben’s angry face and wondered how she could ever have thought he looked like Josh. He was a cold, bitter man, crippled more in his mind than in his body. His dark eyes never left her as she stood and moved toward the kitchen, her food barely touched.

  “You didn’t finish your breakfast!” Ben shouted after her.

  “I’ve work to do,” Bethanie managed to retort before she reached the comfort of the kitchen. Nothing would have made her return to her place. He seemed to be watching, waiting for her to make a mistake. He looked for bad in everyone, she decided, even her. Well, she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of seeing her angry.

  Ruth greeted Bethanie with her usual nod and handed her a clean apron. Bethanie rolled up her sleeves and began the baking. All day the rain pounded as Bethanie baked loaf after loaf of bread. She did her best, knowing some of the bread would go to the men at the roundup. She ate a quick bite in the kitchen with Ruth at lunch. The housekeeper asked no questions, but Bethanie guessed she’d heard Ben’s outburst even in the kitchen. Allison wandered in to watch several times but offered no assistance.

  As evening came and the rain continued, Bethanie grew restless. Every afternoon she’d walked the few hundred yards to the small, hidden falls nestled along the same ledge that protected the house. The area was overgrown and a small waterfall splashed loudly among the rocks. Bethanie remembered Josh telling her of the falls. He was right when he’d said it was separate from the world. She frowned as she worked, for today the path would be knee-deep in mud, so she must keep busy in the house.

  Allison retired early, as usual, and Bethanie set the evening meal before Ben. She’d thought of eating in the kitchen with Ruth, but decided she might anger Ben more. How would it look when Josh returned if she and Ben were at each other’s throats?

  As Ben rolled his high-backed wheelchair into his place at the table, he nodded his usual greeting. He looked tired, and Bethanie wondered if he felt as cooped up as she did tonight. Even if his outings were only to the bunkhouse and barns, they’d been canceled today. He seemed on edge, as if the storm had wound his nerves tightly.

  They ate in silence with only the rain clamoring above them. Ben pushed away his plate just as a pounding sounded at the door. Before either could move, the door flew open and Dusty entered along with the storm. He fought briefly to close the door, then stood dripping wet, staring at Ben. He was such a little boy, trying to stand tall like a man, Bethanie thought. His fight with the weather left him looking battered and defeated.

  “Get him a towel and blanket,” Ben ordered Bethanie. “Boy, come over by the
fire. You look half drowned.” He rolled toward the fireplace, and she ran to get towels.

  When Bethanie returned, she helped Dusty dry his hair until he pushed her away reluctant to accept more mothering. His chin was held high and strong though his eyes were puffy from crying.

  “I come here to tell Mr. Ben somethin’,” he said, pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders. “I wanted to stay out, but they wouldn’t let me.”

  “It’s all right, son,” Ben said with more kindness than he’d ever shown Bethanie. “Tell me, how’s the roundup?”

  “It was fine, sir, till yesterday. We brought several hundred head around to brand. Then the storm must’ve stampeded them. The thunder sounded like gunshots to me. Those longhorns went crazy. We was tryin’ to stop them, but could hardly see, ‘cause it was rainin’ so hard.” His speech was coming in gulps now. “They headed into the river. It was overflowin’ the banks and mighty swift. Mike yelled for me to stay out of the water, but him and Josh went in.”

  Dusty buried his head in his folded arms as he curled into a ball. Bethanie sat beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. Such small shoulders to bear the load of one who thought he was a man.

  Ben moved closer. “What happened, son?” he asked, just above a whisper.

  Dusty raised his head. “The cows went crazy. We was all so tired, ’cause we slept in our saddles the night before.” Tears rolled down his eyes as he bit his lip and sniffed loudly. His voice faded. “An hour later, maybe more, only Mike came out of the water.”

  Ben’s voice was low, barely above the crackling fire. “What about Josh? What happened to my brother?”

  Bethanie’s hands knotted into fists, and her eyes closed tightly as Dusty said painfully, “He must’ve drowned. We found his horse downriver, badly cut up by horns. They looked ever’where, but his body must’ve been carried off in the river.” Dusty crumbled, and Bethanie covered him with the blanket. He was only a boy, and he’d used every ounce of energy to tell his heartbreaking story.

  Bethanie hugged the boy to her and fought an internal battle to break and run screaming from the room. From this place where all she saw was Josh. From the shattered remains of her future without him. From life and all its pain. But her mother hadn’t run. Her mother had fought life’s long battle without support, without tears, and without a man. Bethanie silently reminded herself she was her mother’s daughter.

  The three sat in silence for a long time. Ben, hands folded, stared at the fire, deep in his own private grief. Dusty lay curled half asleep on the couch. Bethanie sat erect, listening to the rain. She twisted her ring that had once belonged to her grandmother. The matching ring was on Josh’s finger somewhere in the river. And there in the river also was her heart. She didn’t cry, but closed her eyes and returned in her mind to her mother’s kitchen. She pictured each detail of the room, down to the smell of the bread that her mother always made. Josh had lied. He had said he’d come back and he didn’t, just like her father. Bethanie mourned his lie silently and closed her heart to all men. She would survive. She would make it, but alone.

  Chapter Eight

  Two days passed like a slow-moving fog over Bethanie’s mind. She worked continuously, trying to tire herself, hoping she’d no longer think, wanting to wear her body numb so she could sleep. The sun returned, drying the land, but the wound across her heart seeped in slow pain. She bore her heartache inside. Even Allison was unaware of her suffering as the tiny blonde wandered about the house, waiting for Mike’s return.

  Most of the ranch hands drifted in after the storm, disheartened at watching their hard work scattered. Large meals had to be prepared and constant chores attended to. When the stampede ended, two bodies were found, but neither one was Josh. The men went about their work with Mike serving as foreman and Ben making all decisions from his desk. A preacher was summoned to perform the burial service, while the household passed the hours in silence. Ben grew moody and remote from the others, withdrawing into his thick shell. He turned to his work, allowing all other parts of his life to die with his brother.

  On the second morning after Dusty had brought his news, Bethanie watched from the dining-room window as Mike finally returned with the dead men’s bodies. He rode slumped in the saddle with fatigue as he pulled two horses along behind him. A corpse was slung over each horse, with only threadbare bedroll blankets to cover them. Bethanie’s breath caught in her throat at the sight even though she’d been expecting the bodies since dawn. She rubbed her forehead against the glass as if to draw the cool feeling into her brain. For a moment she was glad they hadn’t found Josh’s body. She couldn’t have weathered seeing him tied across his horse as these men were.

  Mike spoke with Ben for a few minutes on the porch and gave Allison a more-than-brotherly hug. Bethanie turned back to her work in the kitchen. She could think of nothing to say to Mike. He’d always given Allison his undivided attention, and the frightened woman-child needed him now more than ever. Ruth offered to prepare the bodies, leaving Bethanie alone with her thoughts. She could dream that the stampede never happened, or relive the night in the cave one more time in her mind.

  As Bethanie worked, she thought of her mother and wondered if Mary had dreamed of Mariah long after he left them. Could that explain why she never talked about him? By answering her daughter’s questions, she would have had to face the fact that he was gone forever. Bethanie remembered many times watching her mother smile as she worked, unaware that she was being observed. Were her daydreams of Mariah as Bethanie’s now would be of Josh?

  Bethanie was busy making pie crusts when Mike came through the kitchen door. He looked thinner, and his skyblue eyes bore a sadness about them. Without his billowing brown robes to disguise his lean form, he seemed stronger, more in charge.

  Mike began with small talk, not knowing how to say what was obviously on his mind. “The preacher arrived a few minutes ago.”

  “I know.” Bethanie nodded and pushed back a curl from her forehead with a floury finger. “We’ll have the service in the morning.”

  “Yeah, the two fellows never mentioned any family, so we’ll bury them here.” He paused playing with a metal piece in his hand. “Bethanie, I wanta tell you something.”

  “All right,” Bethanie answered, not stopping her work.

  “Josh and I talked the night before he drowned. He said he wished he’d been straight with you about somethin’, so guess I’ll tell you now.”

  “There’s no need to say anything.” Bethanie wasn’t sure she wanted to know something Josh had left out about himself. Nothing really mattered now, anyway.

  Mike leaned against the table. “I know, but he’d want you to understand. You probably figured out I ain’t a priest.”

  Bethanie knew her smile never touched her eyes. “I never really thought you were.”

  Mike’s boyish dimples dented his cheeks. “Well, Josh and I were trying to stop a gang of cattle thieves.” He laid a metal star on the table. “He was a Texas Ranger. He rode with Colonel Ross before the war. When Ross was made a general in the Confederate Army, Josh served under him once more. Ross used to say Josh was the most honorable man he ever met. Don’t know if it would matter any, but he wasn’t a no-account like your uncle believed.”

  Bethanie turned the badge of the Texas Rangers in her fingers. The pointed star was worn, but still glinted in the morning light. “There was no need to tell me. I knew all I needed to know, but thanks for clearing up a few mysteries.”

  “He said he never meant to deceive you, but at first he had to know you weren’t in league with your uncle.” Sadness filled Mike’s blue eyes. “He told me he loved you, Bethanie. I ain’t never heard him say that about any woman, and I’ve known him for years.”

  A tear rolled down Bethanie’s cheek. She rubbed her hands on her apron harshly, as if the cleaning could rub away the pain in her heart.

  Mike stood and touched her cheek. “He told me he knew you loved him even though you never sa
id the words.” Mike patted Bethanie’s shoulder gently. She rested her forehead on his chest, as she fought for control. Mike smelled of leather and horses, as Josh had. She forced back the. tears as her mind hid away the one tiny joy Mike had given her to cherish amid the sorrow. Josh had been so sure of his love, he’d told someone. Bethanie knew she would never love again, but the knowledge that Josh was so sure was comforting.

  “Thank you, Mike,” she whispered as his arms encircled her in warmth.

  Bethanie hardly noticed the door from the dining room open as Allison slipped in. “I can’t believe it,” she shouted, startling them. “First you tell me you’re not a priest, and next I find you in the arms of my cousin. Color spotted her normally pale face as she dug her fists into the sides of her tiny waist. For an instant, a slight resemblance to her mother showed in Allison’s manner.

  Bethanie stepped back, aware that Mike covered Josh’s badge with one hand and slipped it into her apron pocket.

  “Allison,” he shrugged. “I was comforting Bethanie, that’s all. You know where my affections lie.” His distraught face revealed much of his feelings for Allison.

  “Mike, really. Bethanie is no sadder at our leaving than I am.” Allison’s rosebud lips pouted. She was enjoying Mike’s distress.

  Bethanie and Mike exchanged glances, both realizing Allison knew nothing about Bethanie and Josh. With a slight nod, they agreed to let it remain so. Bethanie couldn’t have faced Allison’s questions about Josh and their relationship.

  Mike’s blue eyes danced with mischief as he looked at Allison. “Isn’t she lovely when she blushes, Bethanie? Like a little china doll.”