"How can I repay everyone?"
"You don't have to. That's the beauty of it, Sadie. Don't you see. Did you ever expect anyone to repay you all those years?"
Sadie shook her head slowly…"I guess not…no."
"Just accept. We want to help you Sadie."
She nodded, but had to turn her head so Jim couldn't see the tears wash down her cheeks.
He pulled her chin around with a finger and smiled. "It's simply your turn…"
Sadie's eyes went to the floor. A shuddering sense of humiliation flowed over her. As much as she tried to help others, she'd never taken charity herself. She didn't like the feeling it gave her. She would owe everyone. Is that what she had done to the people of Cross Timbers? Silently she fretted.
She glanced at Jim, a compassionate caring man, and the urge to go into his arms and let him comfort her overwhelmed her. But she couldn't. She didn't want to appear weak. She had to stand on her two feet and handle her own life. Depending on anyone else was out of the question. Pride held her still.
Her mind was flooded with things she wanted to say, but wasn't sure she should. Everyone was being so nice, she wasn't sure she could ever make anyone understand. She rocked for a moment, and lifted her head in acceptance. "Okay Jim, I guess I should be thanking you. But it's hard to take charity when you've done nothing but hand it out most of your life. I guess Claire was right, I done the people of Cross Timbers a disservice. You really do live and learn, don't you?"
"You helped those people, Sadie. Never doubt that. It is their fault that they never stood on their own two feet and did what had to be done. It's all gonna be okay Sadie…I promise. Now you just take care of yourself." Jim instructed finishing his coffee and heading for the door. "We are all concerned for you and the baby. So…if you need me, just holler."
She nodded and rocked. He closed the door and left and the loneliness of the moment homed in on Sadie. Rocking was good, it calmed her, for she was full of confusing thoughts and apprehensions.
No one would ever understand, she couldn't tell the truth, no matter what! Her repentance was keeping her secret from everyone. She had to do this…alone.
Chapter Eleven
John's wedding was only days away. Everyone in Hard Tack was excited for him. Every morning he got up with great anticipation. He had a life, a good life now, and he wouldn't let anyone ruin it for him.
He gazed into the small mirror that Penelope had given him and stared at the man he had become. He didn't like staring at himself. When he stared too closely, memories flooded him. He had to remember the man he'd become and stay true to that character, for it was that character that made him so happy.
He had to learn how to forget his former life. At some point, he had ceased to be Elmer Martin any longer. He had wiped the man from the face of the earth.
He looked nicer, he held himself with pride, he took immense pleasure in his work and the appreciation others bestowed on him. He was proud of himself. He exuded confidence.
The ignorance he had lived with once, tried to sneak up in that mirror to destroy him, but he squashed it. He actually got better at forcing it away. There was no reason to remember any longer. He had a life here.
Somewhere though, in the dark recesses of his mind, he did worry about Sadie. He hoped she had found happiness for herself. He hoped she had moved on too. He hoped she would have a life of her own. Because deep down, he knew he would always love Sadie. But that love was destructive and he had to stay away from it, for her sake as much as his.
Penelope was his life now. Penelope loved him and he loved her with all his heart. He could hardly wait to claim her as his own. And the best part was, there was no shame there. He really loved her, and she would soon be his wife.
It was while he was butchering a fresh cow that morning that George stood by watching him. It was the way he stared, the way he stood there, as though waiting for something. The ways his beady eyes went over John made him uncomfortable. "Are you getting' nervous about the wedding John?" George asked, his expression bland.
"Not at all. I'm looking forward to it." John glanced over his shoulder at George. George shifted his weighted and leaned on the doorframe. It was so unlike George to be wasting time before the dinner rush. But there he stood, smoking a cigarette and staring at him with a snide smile.
Annoyance hovered in George's face. "A lot of things change when you take a wife, John."
John wondered where this was coming from. Even though George was a bachelor, he hadn't expected such cynic remarks.
"The way I look at it, it makes a man more stable, more dependable, more responsible." John countered.
"The girl sure has changed," George remarked. "Why, she used to be an old maid. I mean she looked the part, acted the part. But you came to town and changed all that. Now she's radiant as a flower in bloom. Never seen her like that."
"Who?" John was trying not to pay too much attention to his remarks.
"Penelope. She used to be shy, quiet, non-assuming." George frowned.
"Sounds as though you paid more attention to Penelope than you ever let on." John remarked.
"I was sweet on her once…when she was young. Things were different then. Very different."
John turned to look at him. "Really, you never said as much. Why didn't you speak up about it. Are you sore that I'm seeing her?"
"It was a long time ago. And I got over her easily enough. And no, I'm not sore at all."
"Was she sweet on you?" John asked.
"No, not really. She was hanging out with the other old maids in town, and she acted as though I didn't exist. She was a total snob. At the time…" He amended.
"I'm sorry." John murmured, trying not to step on George's feelings.
"I thought about marriage a time or two, but I guess running this place was more important to me than anything. It takes up most of my time. Now more than ever. You’re an excellent butcher John, and you've made it possible for me to expand the business because of your work. I've never bothered to thank you." George said coming toward him. "And I want to thank you, John."
There was no one around, just the two of them, and George came straight toward him, and kissed him on the side of the mouth. Had John moved a half inch, George would be kissing him on the mouth.
John gasped and wiped his mouth. He backed up and stared long and hard at George. John felt an urge to strike out at him, but he knew better. Control was what he needed but he found it hard to get past his actions.
He'd never guessed that George was like that. It presented a great problem for him, as he loved Penelope. He did not care to indulge with another man, and he was appalled by George's move. He'd never met a man like George, but he'd heard of them.
Not wanting to offend, he backed away. Trying his best not to create a problem just days before his wedding, he tried to chuckle and make light of it.
"Well thanks George, but a handshake would do…"
George stared into his eyes with piercing accuracy. The desire John recognized in George's eyes scared him witless. "The wind blows a lot of directions, John. If Penelope disappoints…"
John's eyes widened but his mouth hung open.
George, reached to close his mouth with his finger. His finger running loosely over John's lips. The intimacy of the moment shocked John. He was speechless.
John gulped, he didn't know what to say. He needed to put distance between himself and George. He moved to the other side of the beef he'd just hung.
But he realized he had to let George know that he would never encourage a relationship with him. "My wind blows straight, George. I'm sorry…"
George glanced up and down at John, as though sizing him up. As though looking at him pleased him. "Me too…" And he walked away.
John was stunned.
Fear sliced through him. How had this happened? Why had it happened. Even if George was peculiar, why had he approached him? Everyone in town knew he was about to be married. It made no sense.
Even though George never approached him again like that, John had a creepy feeling about working with him now. He caught George staring at him off and on, and it made him terribly uncomfortable. He'd been so careful not to involve himself with scandal. Now this.
He decided to ride out and talk to Penelope.
When she saw how distraught he was she asked. "What's troubling you, having the wedding jitters, are you? Second thoughts maybe?"
"No, not at all. I want to marry you Penelope. I love you." John reassured her.
"Then what is wrong. I can tell something is bothering you and I want you to know you can always come and talk to me." She assured him. "No matter what."
"I know my love. That's why I'm here. Can we go for a ride in the buggy?" John asked looking about to see who was in the house.
"Of course…" She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Miles from the ranch, he stopped the buggy and put his arm around Penelope. "I love you so. I will be so happy when we marry. I can hardly wait. I know we will have a wonderful life together."
She swooned when his lips caressed hers hotly. The way his lips feathered across hers and then swooped down to take her, made her putty in his arms.
Pulling gently away he looked into her warm eyes. "I must talk to you about something, though. It's George…"
"George?" Penelope repeated, surprised obviously by his announcement and his timing. "What about him?"
"He's…different." John said gently.
Penelope didn't understand. "How?"
John took her hands in his and with a furrowed brow he blurted it out. "He likes the company of men."
Penelope raised up and stared. "George Stanley?"
"Yes."
"My God. Have you told anyone else this?" Penelope's eyes were wide with surprise now. She hadn't known.
"No my darling. I feel bad that I told you, but…I had to talk to someone, and I trust you more than anyone…"
She smiled, and her gloved hand touched his cheek. "Are you sure. I mean…how do you know? Did you catch him with someone?"
"N-no…he…well he…approached me…"
"Oh dear God, he didn't?"
"Did you know about this?"
Penelope's cheeks bloomed a bright red. "Well, I suspicions a time or two when I caught him staring at other men so much. I mean a girl does wonder at times about men like that. But this is serious. Why would he approach you?" She asked innocently. "He knows we are to be married in just a few days."
John got out of the buggy and paced. "That's what bothered me so. I've never given him cause to think I was interested in such a liaison."
"Oh John…no! We must tell father about this."
"No…I don't want to cause trouble for George. It is all his own doing. I don't want to be involved. It is his business, not mine. But I simply had to tell you." John confessed coming back to hold her hands together. "I'm not comfortable working with him any longer."
She kissed him, hotly on the lips and he climbed up into the buggy to take the advantage she offered. "A man that kisses like you do, could never love another man. But darling, if he approached you, don't you think he might start doing the same to others?"
John's brows knitted. "I hadn't thought about that. It never occurred to me."
"This is not good news. But my father would know how to handle things, I'm sure." She insisted.
"There's nothing to handle. He hasn't done anything, as far as I know."
"But the threat of him doing something is there. Even to you, since you work with him."
"I know that. And I'd like to figure out how to work somewhere else. I just don't know who to approach about it."
"I do…" She said
"Who?"
"My father of course. He could use you out here. He often has need of a butcher himself and the other ranchers could easily keep you busy. They all know and respect your work. It would also look right, as you will soon be his son-in-law." Penelope concluded on her own. "No one would questions the why's of it."
"Do you think he'd consider it?"
"You let me handle that. I'm sure of it. Now quit fretting. We must concentrate on our wedding. We can't let something like this distract us from having the best wedding in this county, now can we?" She laughed and pulled him into her arms.
"I guess not…" He whispered as he kissed her and put his arms freely around her. His hand going to her breast and then down her skirt where he stopped and moved it over her.
She swooned once more. "Oh my…we better go, if we want to make our honeymoon the best night of our lives…" She giggled.
"It would be so easy to make love to you, my sweet." He whispered. "I need you so much."
"And I you…" she whispered. "I like your hand there, perhaps you could keep it there until we return to the ranch."
"No…I can't." He pulled away. "I would want to make you mine…"
"Hmm…sounds heavenly."
He was glad he had talked to her about George, just getting it off his chest made him feel better. He also liked the idea of working here on the ranch. For one he'd be closer to her, and for two, he'd be away from George.
But letting Penelope handle it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Mr. Carver to respect him and he felt he should talk to him directly.
"Please, I must tell your father…" He insisted as he kissed her goodnight.
"Alright darling, as you wish…"
"Good," he said. "I'll talk with him tonight if he is not busy."
"He's not, the house is lit up, he must be up." She glanced at the house as it came into site.
~*~
Mr. Carver was reading the newspaper when they came in. He still had his work clothes on. But he looked relaxed, especially on seeing Penelope. He smiled up at them. "Did you two have a nice ride?"
"Yes we did. I'm going to retire now, I'm tired since I have been working so hard on my wedding dress." Penelope said.
"Goodnight, darling," she called over her shoulder.
"Goodnight." John smiled at her.
"Well now John. You look like a man with something on his mind. What can I do for you?"
John stammered a moment, then gestured for a seat. Mr. Carver nodded.
"I wanted to talk to you about George…" John began.
"George Stanley?" Mr. Carver frowned.
"Yes."
Mr. Carver set his paper aside as the maid brought them both some coffee. "That will be all Patrice." He said.
The maid quickly disappeared.
After taking a long swig of coffee he sent a galvanizing glance at John. "Alright, what is on your mind. His expansion plans?"
"No sir. Did you know…had you any idea…what I'm trying to ask is did you realize that George…was different?"
"Different?" Mr. Carver considered his choice of words.
"I really don't know George that well. But different how?"
John squirmed, finding it hard to talk about. "He-he prefers other men, to women."
Mr. Carver's face drained to a starch white. His frown was thunderous. His fist fisted. "How do you know this?"
"He approached me…" John admitted under his scrutiny.
"Good God. I cannot believe it. He actually came out and said something?"
"Yes."
Mr. Carver rose from his chair, paced the small area between his chair and the dining room. "No…I did not know. What did you do?"
"Well, one minute we were talking about Penelope and I getting married and the next he was offering to be with me if she wasn't enough for me." John explained. "At that point I was tongue-tied for a moment."
"What did you say?"
"I told him I was not of that kind." John said lowly.
Mr. Carver nodded. "Was he satisfi
ed with that?"
"I guess, but ever since he has been staring at me. I can't work around him any longer, knowing this. I just can't." John explained. "It's very uncomfortable."
Mr. Carver saw the tension in John's face. "Of course you can't. Give him your leave and you can work for me. I've got plenty for you to do. Being my son-in-law no one will think twice about it."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I am. I don't want you exposed to such a sort." Mr. Carver explained. "You must come to work for me tomorrow, I'll do the explaining to Stanley. You've got a wedding to worry about. That's enough. I'll take care of everything, don't you fret about this any longer. I'm glad you had the gumption to come and tell me."
"It wasn't a pleasant task." John admitted.
"I'm sure. Does Penelope know?"
"Yes…I felt I needed to tell her. She suggested me working here, but I wouldn't impose unless you could really use me here."
"I could. Don't fret about that, John. The other ranchers could give you enough business to keep you busy for a long time."
The way Mr. Carver said that had John worried. He didn't want any trouble. And yet he'd seen the rage in Mr. Carver's eyes.
Perhaps now that he had unburdened himself, and he had another place to work, he would quit worrying. At least that is what he told himself.
But deep down, he knew he was wrong.
Chapter Twelve
It was John's wedding day. Already he'd been working for Mr. Carver for most of the week. He had even taken to the bunkhouse with his hands. He hadn't been to town in days.
His nerves tingled with excitement. Never had he wanted to be with a woman so much as with Penelope. He'd dreamed of the wedding day. He hoped she felt the same.
There was a lot of activity going on at the ranch house but Penelope had let him know that she didn't want to see him on this day until the wedding had begun. He respected her wishes.
The men had celebrated with him the night before, breaking out the finest of Mr. Carver's whiskey for the occasion. Mr. Carver had made a toast in the bunkhouse and everyone teased and razed John.
Bad Day for a Killing (Book Three of the Western Serial Killer Series) Page 10