The Right Wife

by Beverly Barton

  “Delicious lemonade,” Wesley said after finishing his second glass while sitting at the kitchen table. “Most refreshing on such a hot day.”

  Maggie had listened with great relief to the sound of the buggy leaving. If Phineas and Daisy were finally on their way, tragedy could be avoided, at least for the time being. No doubt, Phineas and Aaron both suspected the truth about Wesley, and she wondered just what Daisy’s new husband might do.

  “How could you have come here, today of all days?” Maggie demanded, standing beside the seated man, her cat-eyes afire with hatred.

  “I’m sorry, Margaret. I simply wanted to give Daisy the Bible before speaking with you about our own marriage.” He reached for the large pitcher, pouring himself a third glass of lemonade.

  “Our marriage?”

  “Mama isn’t pleased, but, if you will agree for us to live with her and Chester, she’ll give us her blessings. She thinks that, under her guidance, you and Judith have a chance.”

  “Wesley, I have no intention of marrying you.”

  “Now, my dear, I know you must feel yourself unworthy, but I’m a forgiving man.”

  “A forgiving man? I thought I knew you, but I was so wrong. I had no idea what you were really like.”

  He sipped the cool liquid, removed a linen handkerchief from his coat pocket, and wiped the perspiration from his florid face. “Surely you’ve always known of my fondness for you? I will admit that your indiscretion with Mr. Stone hurt me deeply. And that it became public knowledge made me heartsick.”

  “You were heartsick?” Maggie hissed, glaring down at him. “If you were, it was because this whole town knew you wanted to marry me. You had even told Brother Osborne. Then I did the unforgivable. I offended Eunice Arnold by spending the day alone with a man she considers her private domain.”

  “Margaret, Margaret. You can redeem yourself.”

  “Can you redeem yourself, Wesley?”

  “What?” His silver eyes hardened as he reached out to grasp Maggie’s wrist. “You must explain yourself.”

  “There’s no need for you to deny it. I know. I know what you did.”

  The good reverend released her wrist, raking her from head to toe with his cold, gray stare. “And of what are you accusing me?”

  “Daisy told me. You beat her. You . . . you . . .” Maggie could not bring herself to say the word. The thoughts it conjured up in her mind were too painful.

  “She has lied to you!” Wesley bellowed, easing his bulky frame from the chair.

  “No. No, she didn’t lie. Why, Wesley? Why? What kind of a monster are you?” She stepped away from the wide-eyed man reaching for her.

  “She’s evil,” he shouted. “The devil’s child. I saw her there by Auntie Gem’s cabin, letting her lover paw her. When he left, I went to her to try to save her soul. I told her to repent and pray. She refused.”

  “Oh, dear Lord.” Maggie had no doubt that this man was insane. She suddenly felt alone and frightened. Where was Jude? And where was Aaron?

  “I had to beat the evil out of her. I had to cleanse her soul so she could repent. But the devil was strong in her. She forced me to do the unspeakable.”

  Maggie gradually backed away, but he followed and pinned her against the wall, his meaty hands grabbing her shoulders. “No, Wesley.”

  “There is evil in you. I and I alone can save you. You must repent.”

  Maggie’s scream echoed through the stillness of the town house as she watched, horrified, when he drew back his hand to strike her. Her eyes closed tightly, she struggled against her attacker, and screamed again.

  The expected blow never came. She swayed and opened her eyes when she was abruptly released. Aaron Stone had jerked Wesley away, his big fists landing blow after blow to the other man’s jowled face and flabby body. Wesley staggered, and then fell, his rotund form sprawling across the floor.

  Aaron stepped over his defeated opponent to pull a trembling Maggie into his arms. She went willingly, clinging to him, tears streaming down her face.

  “Hush, Maggie mine. It’s all right. I’m here now.”

  He held her securely within the safe haven of his strong arms. He would have liked nothing better than to have killed Wesley Peterson. It would have been easy to have snapped the fat swine’s neck, but that would have terrified Maggie even more.

  “He . . . he’s the . . . one . . .”

  “Hush, sweet love, hush. I know.” His big hand stroked her, yearning to soothe away all the pain and fear.

  Wesley struggled to his feet, standing unsteadily as he glared at the couple holding one another. “You’re no better than your nigger. Whores, both of you. Seeds of the devil.”

  Aaron pulled away from her, longing to strike the reverend’s already bruised face.

  “No, please, Aaron.” Maggie held on to him slightly. “Get out of here, Wesley, and don’t you ever come back.”

  “I shall go, but His vengeance will fall upon you both, like fire from heaven,” the madman roared. “There are those of us who do our Lord’s bidding. We know how to rid the world of evildoers and troublemakers. Be on watch, Aaron Stone, and warn your nigger. You won’t know the hour when we shall strike.”

  Maggie clung to Aaron while the two of them watched Reverend Peterson stagger through the kitchen door.

  “Jude?” Maggie cried.

  “It’s all right. I sent her upstairs when we heard you scream.”

  “Thank God Phineas and Daisy left when they did.”

  “I want you to wait here,” Aaron said, pulling away from her to follow the other man.

  “No, Aaron, please.” She ran after him as he hurried through the hallway and foyer to the open front door where Wesley stood, bracing himself against the door frame.

  “Stay here,” Aaron told her.

  She threw her arms around him, slowing his stride. He could move no farther without dragging her. “Don’t. Not now, not like this.”

  “He’s dangerous, Maggie. He’s like a mad dog. He needs to be destroyed.”

  “No. No. What are you saying? Daisy isn’t the first woman he’s . . . ?”

  Aaron stopped and held her, not wanting to answer her unfinished question. For long moments, they stood there while the reverend made his way outside to his buggy.

  “I’ve heard talk at Loretta’s,” Aaron admitted. “I never paid much attention.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “That the saintly preacher occasionally arranged for Loretta to send him a woman over to the church building at night.”

  “No, not the church.”

  “Rumor was that he beat the girls so badly that none of them would agree to go back.”

  “Oh, Aaron. Please hold me.”

  She rested her head on his chest and cried while he held and comforted her. Where would it all end? Her life had become a nightmare, her hopes and dreams destroyed, her plans all gone awry.

  What kind of man was Wesley? He had been gentle and kind, taking time to help Jude with her schoolwork, insisting on paying for Micah’s tuition. He had stood against his mother to help the Campbells time and again. But then he had chased her down Main Street that night, spouting sin and salvation and repentance. And today he would have struck her, perhaps beaten her as he had Daisy. As he had those other women.

  “Try not to think about it,” Aaron said, kissing the top of her head.

  “Daisy’s carrying his child.” Maggie wondered how the woman could endure having a baby by a man so demented.

  “I know. Phineas told me that the child belonged to the man who had forced himself on her. He loves her enough to accept the child. He’ll raise it as if it were his own.”

  “Phineas is a rare man indeed.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  Aaron wondered if he were in his friend’s position would he be able to watch the woman he loved grow bigger each day with the child of a man who had raped her. There was no doubt in his mind. He would kill Wesley Peterson. So, was it only
a matter of time?

  “Don’t let Phineas do anything crazy,” Maggie said as Aaron led her over to the table where he sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

  “He’s not stupid. He knows how to handle himself.”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything.”

  “All I want to do is help you. I’ve already caused you so much pain.”

  He could not resist the sweet temptation of her lips. They exchanged a kiss as gently loving and gossamer light as a kiss could be. He rubbed the back of his hand across her smooth cheek. “Let me help you, Maggie. Let me pay for Jude’s school. Let me buy you a house and give you enough money to get by until you can earn a living as a seamstress.”

  She gazed into his dark green eyes. “Has anything changed? Have you decided not to ask Eunice to marry you?”

  Taking her face in his hands, he looked directly into her golden eyes. “Nothing has changed. Next month, I’ll propose to Eunice.”

  Her breathing quickened as she glared at him, placing an arm around his thick neck. “Are you asking me to be your mistress?”

  “No, Maggie. I wasn’t asking that kind of sacrifice from you.”

  “Will you be able to give me up?”

  “I don’t know.” The very thought of giving her up was unbearable. But what kind of life could he hope to have with Eunice if he started their marriage being unfaithful to her?

  “Thayer has offered me his assistance.”

  “He’s done what?”

  “If you don’t want me as your mistress, perhaps Thayer does,” she lied. She hated being dishonest with him, but desperation could make a woman do strange things.

  “The hell he does!”

  Maggie could feel the big man’s body stiffen, his hands grabbing her waist.

  She removed her arms from around his neck, twisting to free herself. “Thayer isn’t ashamed of me. Who knows, he might offer me marriage.”

  “Thayer’s not in love with you. Bewitched maybe, but not in love. He’s not ready for marriage.” He held her firmly as she struggled to get out of his lap.

  “If that’s true, then maybe I’ll settle for being his mistress. At least he won’t have a wife to betray.”

  “Stay out of Thayer’s bed. You belong to me.”

  “How do you know I haven’t already been in his bed?” she taunted, her gleaming eyes filled with defiance.

  “I know. I know because you are mine.” His mouth took hers in a kiss of pure possession, verifying his claim.

  She tried not to respond, but her lips betrayed her, parting to accept the thrust of his ravaging tongue. He kissed her long and hard, the very savagery of it arousing her passion.

  And then the kiss was over, and Aaron pushed her from his lips as he stood. “If you want to be a mistress, then you’ll be mine. Think about it. When you decide, send me word.”

  He walked to the door, hesitating briefly. “If you need anything, I’ll provide it. Don’t involve Thayer in what’s going on between the two of us.”

  He turned and walked away. Maggie stood staring at the closed door for quite a while. Had he meant what he’d said? Was he the kind of man who could marry Eunice and keep a mistress? She hadn’t thought so. But then she had never suspected the kindly minister who had befriended her family was capable of inhuman brutality.

  Covering her face with her hands, she began to cry. Things could not go on this way. She had to make some decisions, decisions that would affect the rest of her life and Jude’s. Micah had taken control of his own life so she no longer had any responsibility for his destiny, but she still had her sister to think about and, now, her unborn child.

  She could not stay on here indefinitely accepting Thayer’s charity. In a few months her condition would begin to show, and she would be forced to either tell Aaron the truth or leave town. What would Aaron do if she told him? Would he give up his dream, marry her for the child’s sake, and spend the rest of his life hating her? And if she told Thayer, what would he do? Could she risk telling either man?

  Perhaps she should pack up and move away from Tuscumbia to someplace where nobody knew her. Maybe she could pass herself off as a widow and try to make a new life, find new dreams to replace the old. But how would she be able to take care of herself and Jude and a baby? She was a woman alone, with no money and no man of her own.

  Where can I go? What can I do?

  Chapter 15

  Maggie pulled her shawl tightly about her shoulders as she stepped down from the buggy, the cool autumn breeze blowing her already disheveled hair about her face. It had turned cold sometime during the night, and everything was blanketed with an unseasonable wintry frost on this late September morning. As soon as Judith jumped down, handing Auntie Gem her small valise, the black manservant drove Aaron Stone’s cabriolet away.

  “How is she?” Maggie asked, taking hold of the woman’s trembling hands.

  “She ain’t none too good. I’m mighty worried about her.” Tears filled Auntie Gem’s tired, dark eyes.

  “The baby?”

  “She done lost it, about an hour ago. I’d say it was a blessing, except for what it’s done to her. I ain’t never seen a gal lose so much blood.” Auntie Gem looked at Judith as if just remembering the child’s presence. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said so much.”

  “It’s all right,” Maggie assured her. “Has anyone sent for a doctor?”

  “Mr. Aaron did, but we ain’t heard nothing. I don’t figure there’s much a doctor can do. Things like this, a woman just heals up right or she don’t.”

  “Is she asleep?”

  “She’s been sleeping on and off. Phineas done give her some laudanum, but she’s been calling for you. Mr. Aaron sent Moses for you as soon as Daisy took sick before daybreak this morning.”

  Auntie Gem led the Campbell sisters into Daisy and Phineas’s neat, one-story frame house, the frost-covered tin roof almost as white as the building itself.

  When Maggie walked through the warm kitchen, she could smell the spicy aroma of cinnamon and overripe apples. A pot of fresh coffee sat on the cook-stove, a plate of day-old fried pies on the nearby wooden table. Crystal bright sunshine filled the room with a soft pink glow as it streamed through the red-gingham-curtained window.

  “Jude, you stay in here,” Maggie said. “Maybe Auntie Gem will fix you something to eat. I know you must be hungry after our long ride.”

  The old woman nodded, putting the valise on a corner table, and urging the sleepy-eyed child to sit down. “You go on, Miss Maggie. I’ll scramble some eggs and cook up some biscuits. You see if you can get Phineas and Mr. Aaron to come out here and eat.”

  Maggie opened the bedroom door, stood on the threshold, and peeked into the shadowy room. The bleached muslin curtains had been pulled, filtering the morning sunlight. Daisy lay on an iron bed, her still body covered with several quilts. Maggie moved slowly into the room. She immediately noticed Phineas sitting in a cane-bottomed chair on the far side of the bed, his dark eyes staring down at the sleeping woman. A few feet away, in the corner, Aaron Stone stood leaning against the wall, one big booted foot propped behind him.

  “Phineas,” Maggie whispered.

  Looking up, his eyes red, tears wetting his long, dark lashes, the man stood. “Miss Maggie. She been asking for you. She’s been so sick and half out of her mind.”

  “She is going to be all right.” Maggie moved to the bed, wanting to see Daisy and hoping she could comfort the woman’s husband. “She’s young and strong, and the Lord will take care of her.”

  “She wants me to bury the baby, Miss Maggie, and there ain’t no baby. There ain’t nothing but . . . a tiny lump of... How can I bury her baby when there ain’t no baby?”

  Maggie walked around the foot of the bed and placed her small hand on Phineas’s arm. “You get Auntie Gem to find a box, and you put that tiny lump in it. And you dig a hole and bury it. When Daisy’s better, you can show her the little mound where the baby is buried.”

  “B
ut Miss Maggie.” Tears cascaded down his dark cheeks as he stared at his wife’s sleeping form.

  “It’s what she wants,” Maggie told him. “Go on and do it now. I’ll sit here with her in case she wakes up or needs anything.”

  Aaron removed his foot from the wall. Standing big and tall, he walked forward. Maggie looked up into his face. Even with a day’s growth of beard and weary eyes, his coat wrinkled and his shirt half unbuttoned, he looked wonderful. She had missed him unbearably in the weeks since he’d stormed out of the town house kitchen. “She’s right, Phineas. It’s what Daisy wants. Come on. I’ll go with you.”

  Phineas turned to his friend, nodding agreement.

  “Maggie’s here now. She’ll take care of Daisy.”

  When the two men left the room, Maggie paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, and prayed that the Lord would see fit to spare Daisy’s life. She had already suffered so much in her short twenty-four years. It wasn’t fair if death claimed her now.

  Maggie felt betrayed, betrayed by life that promised and gave so much to others. Betrayed by a God who would allow the innocent to pay for the sins of the guilty.

  The days were going so quickly, and she had solved none of her own problems. It was almost October, she was three months along, and nobody knew, save her and the Lord. She would have to do something soon, make some important decisions. If only Aaron had made some move to contact her, but he hadn’t. Obviously he could live without her. She hoped he was as miserable as she was.

  On several occasions she had almost told Thayer and asked for his help. He stopped by the town house often, always assuring her that she and Jude were welcome to stay on there as long as they wanted. Since his family had left Silver Hill the first of the month, he came to town at least twice a week. Maggie was sure he missed living in town, being close to all the things a young bachelor enjoys.

  Martha Coleman had paid her a visit a few days before returning to Franklin, Tennessee, with her daughter’s family. She wanted Maggie to know that she prayed for Aaron to come to his senses and marry Maggie before he destroyed himself. Then she offered Maggie and Judith a home with her if Aaron were stupid enough to actually marry Eunice Arnold. Should she go ahead and accept the offer and leave Tuscumbia? No, she couldn’t. Not yet. There was still hope. Aaron hadn’t proposed to Eunice.