by Reece Butler
He hadn’t thought of his mother in years. A memory surfaced, and his gut twisted. She caught him alone and grabbed his arm so tight it hurt. Her face screwed up, and she spat horrifying words at him. That he was the spawn of the devil, the fires of hell were burning for him, and he would scream in pain with Lucifer for eternity.
Then Uncle Pat rushed into the room. He had on the maddest face Jed had ever seen. His mother picked up her skirts and rushed from the room. Uncle Pat knelt and pulled Jed into his arms and said his mother was a sick woman. That she would lie about anything to get what she wanted. That Jed was a good boy, and God loved him.
Then he looked into Jed’s eyes and said, “That witch, and the man she married, are not your parents anymore. Aunt Chrissie and I love you, with all our hearts. We want you to be our son, just like Clint.” They never talked about back then, but he remembered Clint telling him about the nightmares. He didn’t like thunderstorms, because they brought them on. He never remembered a damn thing, so couldn’t tell why.
He knew Victoria was his wife. His whole life had changed because of her. Instead of working for someday, he was building a life for his family. Victoria, Riley, Clint, and their children. He wanted to build a wide porch so one day they could sit out and watch their grandchildren play. He’d watch Victoria rock grandbabies and tell them stories. Stories that they hadn’t yet had a chance to live.
A piece of paper wouldn’t change anything. Not to him. But if Victoria cared more about what others thought of her, rather than what they shared, she wouldn’t let him be her husband.
Victoria couldn’t look him in the eyes, yet her fingers clutched his shirt.
“They’ll say we’ve been living in sin,” she whispered. “They’ll say I’m a…a loose woman. Then they’ll—”
“What? No!” Riley pushed his way between them. Jed let her go. “Don’t even think that.”
“They’ll what?” asked Jed. “Look down on you when you know you’re better than they are?”
Victoria pulled away from Riley. She tilted her head at Jed and frowned. “I don’t say I’m better, but I believe I’m as good as other people. I won’t have them treating me like a”—she searched for words—“a loose woman. Pulling their skirts away so my disgrace won’t rub off and tarnish their reputation.” She finally met Jed’s eyes. “I want to be a woman people look up to, Jed. I want to be someone important.”
Her words hit him between the eyes, blinding him to everything else. He felt his lip curl. There it was. Having influence with others was worth more to her than being in his arms. He stifled the surge of regret and let in bitter memories of his mother’s rejection.
“You’re just like her.” He forced the words out.
“Oh, Christ,” muttered Riley.
“Whoa, folks,” said Barstow. “Let’s not say things that don’t need to be said.”
“It’s too late,” said Jed with a harsh laugh. “I’ve said all I need to.”
Victoria cried out, and Mary put her arm around her. No, not Victoria. She was Miss Edison to him now. No matter that he knew every inch of her body, inside and out. How her breath caught when he—No!
“I’ll go pack my things,” said Miss Edison. She turned toward the house.
“What for?” Riley tugged her arm to stop her. “Aren’t you staying here, with us, until we get this all worked out? You’re Jed’s wife!”
“The judge in Helena, the seat of the Montana Territory government, said my marriage was annulled. According to law, I was never married.”
“None of us who signed that paper care,” scoffed Riley.
“I do, and so will a lot of others. I won’t be spit on for the rest of my life.” She pulled her elbow out of Riley’s grip and walked away, back stiff and head high. Mary shot her husband a look Jed didn’t understand, and followed.
“What’s stopping Jed from marrying Victoria again?” asked Riley, watching the women.
Jed wanted to hear the answer, not that it mattered anymore. He knew what type of woman Victoria, Miss Edison, was. It was good that their marriage was dissolved. He didn’t want to spend one more hour with a witch like his mother.
“Nothin’,” said Barstow. “They can do it again, but this time it has to be in front of a gospel sharp with a Bible.”
A faint memory hit Jed. A voice roared, lights flashed, and a rod struck his back. Pain exploded. He hunched, unable to stop the automatic flinch. Was it real?
No matter, he had to escape!
Ignoring the shouts around him, he ran to his horse, pulled the reins free, and threw himself into the saddle. He kneed the horse. Startled, it shot away, into the wind.
Chapter Thirteen
Life was good.
Though he was bruised, battered, and exhausted, Clint whistled as he rode home. They’d gained at least thirty cow-calf pairs in the gather. As suspected, the mayor hadn’t been too worried about cattle wandering onto his land. But now all of them, old and new, had a J–C brand and were settling down.
Victoria was settling down as well. She’d fretted all the way to the spring picnic last week. Whether her pies would be good enough, if they thought her dress was right. Beth and Jessie Elliott pulled her away, and next thing he knew, all three were looking at him and laughing. He didn’t know why, but he blushed. That set them off again.
Women!
Victoria later accused him of running away, but he’d gone to help the men get the tables ready for all the food that was arriving. Walt Chamberlain’s Running W ranch had nothing much on it other than a small cabin Walt spent summers in. By the beginning of August it should be filled with tired longhorns. Walt and his new hand, Zach, would have no time to flirt with the women. Zach had tried to horn in on the dancing with Victoria at the picnic, but Jed soon set him straight. He went off with the other bachelors to grumble.
Because all they had was a flat green field, everyone brought barrels and boards, as well as food and fixings. There was so much food, he was sure there’d be heaps left over. But it all went. Even Daniel and Billy, with their hollow legs, finally insisted they couldn’t eat another bite.
Victoria brought meat pies, strawberry-and-rhubarb pies, cornbread, and even fudge. Because of all the bachelors Jed didn’t let Victoria more than a couple of feet from him unless she was in a crowd of women.
Everyone was there, except the woman they’d found at the mayor’s fancy cabin. Someone had cut the tip of her tongue off so she couldn’t talk. Rosa said she’d refused to come, even though they promised to protect her. She couldn’t tell them a damn thing, of course, and she couldn’t read or write. Rivers insisted her tongue was cut when he hired her, but Doc said some of her bruises were recent. Maybe she was clumsy, but Clint doubted it. Mayor Orville Rivers had not been seen in Tanner’s Ford since he found out about the new Mrs. Jed Adams. Ben Elliott said he glimpsed Rivers in Bannack City. He was heading into the Nugget Saloon, owned by Smythe.
Clint washed up in the barn, taking off his shirt to clean as much as possible. He had far more important things to think about. It was late, but their wife would be holding supper for him.
Finally, their life was on track. He’d always had it easier than Jed, of course, and even Riley, because he had wonderful parents. Jed was smiling now he had a wife that suited them all. She’d fill some of the empty corners of his cousin’s soul, and smooth out some of Riley’s rough edges.
As for him, all he needed was Victoria’s love. He figured she was well on the way to accepting his. Grinning like a fool, he opened the door and walked in. He shut it behind him, turned, and stopped. His cousin glared at him from the stove. Riley lifted the pan of biscuits. One fell on the floor. It landed with a thud as loud as Clint’s heart.
“Is Victoria sleeping?”
“Doubt it,” said Riley. He picked up the biscuit, brushed it off, and put it back in the pan.
“Is she sick?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Then where is she?”
<
br /> Riley picked up the pan of biscuits and heaved them. Clint whirled, turning his back. One of the missiles hit him in the head. “Ow!” He turned back. “What was that all about?”
“She’s not Jed’s wife!”
Riley hurled the words at Clint as fast as he’d sent the small, burned rocks of dough. He’d never seen his cousin so wild. Not since his parents dropped him off at Grandpa Fortune’s farm and washed their hands of him. Riley was twelve at the time and, according to Grandpa, the laziest boy he’d ever seen. Clint and Jed had thumped him into shape. But he was all bent again. Clint held up his hands.
“Whoa there, Ry. Jed married her all proper. Judge Thatcher said the words, we signed the paper, and the sheriff witnessed our names.”
Riley kicked the pan. It clanged across the floor. He cursed and hopped on his other foot. Because Victoria kept the floor so clean, they didn’t wear their boots in the cabin anymore.
“Judge Thatcher ain’t no judge!”
“Since when?”
“Since he retired and moved here.”
“I thought judges keep their titles, like in the army.”
Riley sagged onto the bench. He leaned forward, set his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head. “Title doesn’t matter. Rivers wrote to the new judge in Helena, named Stickley. Told him about the wedding contract. Stickley ruled that anything Thatcher signed since he left Helena isn’t legal.” Riley looked up. “Guess what? He’s a very good friend of Rivers, Jennet, and Smythe. And he’s made it very clear he’s not going to be performing any ceremonies for us, except a funeral.”
“Miss Lily’s marrying Judge Thatcher in a bit,” said Clint. “Maybe he’s got a line on a real judge from somewhere else. I doubt they’d mind sharing the day. Everyone’ll be coming to town for the celebration anyway.”
Clint didn’t like the way Riley shook his head.
“If Jed and Victoria want to marry again, they have to use a preacher with a Bible. Thatcher’s got one coming for his wedding, but you know Jed.”
The exhaustion that Clint had kept at bay, thinking of Victoria, hit him like a buffalo at full speed. He dropped beside Riley.
“Too well. He won’t have a damn thing to do with anyone carrying a Bible. Not after the way his father…” Clint wiped his hands over his face, but it didn’t wipe away the pain. He blew out his lungs and looked for something positive. “What’s Victoria think about all this?”
Riley grimaced. “Said she didn’t want her reputation tarnished by what people thought. Then Jed said she was ‘just like her.’ No one but me knew what that was about. I told her we didn’t care about a piece of paper.”
“But she does? Even after everyone congratulated her on her wedding at the picnic, and know we’re about as married as four people can be, she’s worried about what some strangers think?”
“Yep. She said something strange, about being spit on. I think the lady has a few skeletons in her closet.”
“So does Jed,” said Clint. “Any good news?”
“After Jed stormed off, she told Barstow she’d be happy to become Mrs. Adams again, as long as they had a respected pastor with a Bible to swear on.”
“Well, that’s not likely to happen.” Clint looked around the room. Crisp curtains, fresh flowers in a jar on the table, bread in the pie safe. How long would it take before evidence of Victoria faded along with her scent? “Where is she?”
“Sheriff and his wife took her to Smythe’s place so she can finish setting his house up. She wants to finish up her contract with Smythe and then move out.”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere but here, I guess.”
Clint groaned. “That must’ve burned Jed’s ass like moonshine on a three-day-old ulcer.”
“Yep. He lit out so fast he could be heading to Texas for all I know.”
“Why Texas?”
“To get more cattle? Hell, I don’t know what he’s thinking. If he is.” All the energy seemed to seep out of the usually happy man. “She cried when she left, Clint.”
“Victoria? Cry?”
“Not out loud.” Riley tapped over his heart with two fingers. “In here. She barely sniffed, but tears flowed down her face. I think she really likes us.”
“Yeah, well, I more than like her.” Clint wondered about slamming his fist against the wall. But pain wouldn’t solve their problem. “How’re we going to get Jed in front of a Bible-thumping preacher? It has to be someone that even Jennet and Smythe will believe is a true man of the cloth.”
“You’ve known him longer than me. What do you think?”
“He’s got to have a reason to do the very thing he swore he’d never do.”
“Was his father that bad?”
“No one ever told you?”
“Not the whole story. I know he beat Jed pretty good, but so do a lot of fathers.”
Clint ran his hand over the day’s stubble. No use shaving if he wasn’t going to be kissing anyone.
“I was barely four when my father brought Jed home. I don’t remember too much, but I’ve heard my parents talking over the years. Remember how my father used to take us behind the barn and use a switch on us?”
“I think my ass is still smarting from the first time he did it,” said Riley. He shifted on the bench. “I didn’t want to sit down for a week.”
“You know why he did it?”
“I insulted Aunt Chrissie. Never did that again.”
Clint used a finger to draw a pattern in the flour spilled on the table. Was Victoria making bread when she was interrupted?
“Yeah, but that wasn’t it. Father had to knock off a few of your sharp corners so you’d fit in the family without ripping everyone apart.” He tilted his head to Riley. “You were twelve years old. I was eleven and Jed had just turned fourteen. You wore store-bought clothes. Even though it was warm, you had shoes. Not even boots, but shiny black leather shoes. You turned up your nose at a meal my mother had spent hours working on.” Clint butted Riley with a shoulder. “You remember when you thought you were the most important person in the whole damn world, and everyone should bow at your feet?”
Riley butted him back, harder. “I learned otherwise pretty damn fast. Working all day and going without dessert, while you and Jed shoveled it in your mouth. Trying to sleep in the same bed as you two stinkers after having one all to myself.” He shrugged. “I acted bad because I wanted my parents to notice me. They were always away, doing fun things. They bought everything for me, but all I really wanted was for someone to say I was important. They lectured me for days about how strict Grandpa Fortune was, and to be polite to Uncle Pat and Aunt Chrissie because they were taking me in out of Christian charity.”
“It wasn’t charity. My mother and father took you in because they loved children but couldn’t have any more after me,” corrected Clint. “Yours were too wrapped up in each other to notice you, and then got angry when you turned out the same way.”
“Didn’t last long. Every time I did something bad, Uncle Pat or Grandpa Fortune would use a switch on my behind.”
“They ever made you bleed?”
Riley shook his head. “’Course not. It stung, but that was all. I deserved it.”
“Did they beat you with a stick, again and again, until your bones almost broke? All the time telling you that they were doing this because God loved you? That God told them to beat the devil out of you so you could be pure, and only then would you be worthy of their love?”
“Hell, no!” Riley gaped at Clint. “Is that what they did to Jed?”
Clint nodded. “Jed’s father was pure evil. I think the fact he spouted the Bible as an excuse for all the things he did, made it worse than if he’d just beat Jed for talking back.”
“Why would a woman let her husband do that to a child?”
“Jed’s the reason they married.”
Riley coughed a sarcastic laugh.
“Yeah, that sanctimonious preacher seduced his mother,” said Clint
. “Pa told Mother all about it. He said when his sister got pregnant, the preacher insisted it was her fault, that she temped him like Jezebel. They married, of course. Mother thinks he tried to beat the baby out of her, but it didn’t work. When Jed was born, the preacher said that because he was conceived in sin, he was the devil’s child.”
“His father blamed Jed, when he was the one who sinned?”
Clint couldn’t sit still and talk about this. The coffeepot was low so he added some water to it. “His father baptized him Jared Lucifer. As in ‘descendant of the devil’. My father had it struck from the records and replaced with Jedidiah Lavi, ‘beloved lion of God.’” He looked up at Riley. “This all came from my mother, before we left home. She said someone had to know, in case Jed ever needed to learn about his past.”
“He doesn’t know?”
Clint shook his head. “He still has nightmares sometimes, when he’s alone. Thunderstorms brings them on. He wakes up terrified, covered in sweat, but says he can’t remember what happened. It takes him days to get over it.”
“I remember his mother making sure her hair and dress and everything was perfect before going out,” said Riley. “She would scream at me for making one of his sisters smile, yet look so innocent in public.”
“She was so worried about what others thought that she’d do anything to keep her position as a pious, devoted, dutiful wife. Even let her husband beat Jed to death.”
Riley looked at Clint and grimaced. “Jed meant Victoria’s just like his mother, who rejected him because she cares more about what others think. So Jed thinks Victoria’s the same type of woman.”
Clint nodded. “We have to find out all about their skeletons, haul them into the light, and help bury them.”
Riley looked around the cabin. “Already, it feels empty. I miss her.” He knocked on the table and stood up. “Since I’m so good with the ladies, I’ll go after Victoria.”
“I think I know where Jed might have gone.” Clint looked out the door. Clouds were moving in. “We’re bound to get a thunderstorm in the next day or two. If Jed’s out there alone and there’s thunder and lightning, I might be able to break through to him.”