The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove

by A. B. Michaels

  “Not too late for what?”

  “To change your mind. To stay here. With him.”

  Lia looked up at her friend, tears pooling. “I miss him so much,” she whispered.

  “So, talk to him. See what you can do to work things out.”

  Lia shook her head. “There’s nothing to work out. Only a choice to make. Do I sacrifice my self-respect and thumb my nose at society? Do I give up on the idea of children?”

  Sandy put her face in his hands. “Or do you stand with the man you love and face those problems together?”

  “I don’t know, Sandy. I don’t know that I’m strong enough.”

  “It’s your decision to make, dear one. But know this: you are strong enough. Believe me.”

  A short time later Sandy left, promising to take her to the port when it came time to leave. “And yes, I’ll take care of your little cottage here, and your storage, and all the other ‘honey do’s’ on your list.”

  Lia playfully slapped him and then grabbed him, burying her face in his coat. “I’m going to miss you most of all, I think.”

  He patted her on the back. “Same goes, darling. Same goes.”

  Sandy’s words stayed with Lia for the rest of the day. Should she at least talk to Gus one more time? He no doubt knew she was leaving—she was a passenger on one of his ships, for goodness sake—wouldn’t he want to see her? She went back and forth until, in a spurt of courage, she dialed his home number. Mrs. Coats answered.

  “No, I’m sorry, Miss Starling, Mr. Wolff has gone off on a business trip. I don’t know when he’ll be back. I’ll let him know you called.”

  Lia turned numb at the housekeeper’s words. “Oh. Oh, don’t bother, Mrs. Coats. That’s all right.”

  “Miss Starling, I just wanted to let you know your mural is magnificent. Mr. Wolff greatly admires it as well, although why he keeps it in the dark most of the time, I don’t know.”

  What did Mrs. Coats mean? Lia couldn’t help asking, “If he keeps it in the dark, then why do you think he likes it?”

  “Because he dragged his favorite chair into the room a few days ago and up until he left he would just sit there in the evening looking at it. If you don’t mind my saying so, he’s a good man, Miss Starling. It’s just a run of bad luck that tore you two apart, and that’s a fact.”

  Lia smiled as tears began their familiar journey down her cheeks. “Thank you for saying that, Mrs. Coats. I’ll say goodnight now.”

  The conversation left Lia more conflicted than ever. If Gus cared about her, why had he left town knowing she was sailing in two days? Was he running away from his feelings, or did he really just admire her for her work and that was all? She looked for any silver lining: it seemed as if he had understood the idea behind her painting. At least she hadn’t been wrong about that.

  But was there anything more to them, at least on his side? She went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep, images assailing her from all sides: the Chinese beggars of Grant and Kearny streets; the children of Mulberry; George and Emma and babies; her father, stern and selfish and unyielding; and Gus, strong, supportive, but just out of reach, beckoning her with one hand but turning away whenever she got too close.

  She woke up feeling exhausted, knowing that time was running out to tidy up her life in one place so that she could start again in another. It filled her with nothing but sadness and the shadow of regret.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “What time did you say the Cormorant leaves, again?”

  “Nine o’clock tomorrow evening. You’ve got time.”

  Gus and Will had turned onto the long drive that led to the Double J ranch house. As they tied off their mounts, Gus noticed something different about the place. He looked around and after a moment realized it was the silence. No birds were chirping. No dogs were barking. It was a reverent quiet, as if the ranch had taken a break from the normal goings on that happen day after day.

  “Something seem off to you?” he asked Will.

  “Yes. Seems a bit too hushed around here.”

  Gus tied off his horse and unpacked the box and bag he’d brought for Annabelle. He and Will knocked on the door and after a few minutes old Mr. Jones came out. He looked dead tired, as if the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders and wasn’t goin’ anyplace soon.

  “We’ve been expectin’ you,” Mr. Jones said. He stood aside to let them in the house.

  Gus looked around and noticed the door to the dining room was closed. It sounded like someone was crying. “Is your daughter feeling poorly this morning?” Gus asked.

  “No. My daughter’s feelin’ nothing. Not anymore,” the old man said. “The Lord finally saw fit to take her up with Him in heaven.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Leastwise He better have, or He’s gonna answer to me.”

  Gus had to hand it to the old man. He was clearly broken, but he simply reached for a handkerchief in his back pocket and wiped his eyes.

  Gus and Will glanced at each other. Will raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “What now?”

  “Sir, I know this is hell of a bad timing,” Gus said, “but you know your daughter said she wanted to talk to your son and…daughter-in-law…and for us to come back this mornin’.”

  “Yessir, I know all about it.” He sighed. “Damn sorry business. If you’ll wait in the parlor, I’ll go tell them you’re here.” He led Gus and Will to a small room to the right of the front door. A small, uncomfortable-looking horsehair sofa shared space with two equally inhospitable chairs.

  “Perfectly suited to host both traveling salesmen and church ladies,” Will commented. “Guaranteed to punish the butt and minimize the visit.”

  Gus smiled briefly at Will’s attempt at levity and drummed his hat impatiently on his thigh. He wasn’t sure what to expect or how he should react. He was just grateful Will was on hand to step in in case Gus started to make a damn fool of himself.

  After several minutes the door opened and a young man entered, dressed in mourning clothes. He was tall, light-haired, and boyish looking, not much older than Mattie. His sinewy body was testament to hours spent working hard in the outdoors. A lot of emotions seemed to play over the man’s face: grief, trepidation, anxiousness. But defiance too. The man had a family and looked willing to defend it. Gus couldn’t help but admire his grit.

  “You probably know already. I’m Nathan Jones.” He held out his hand for Gus to shake it, but Gus didn’t react. Will stepped in to keep it civilized.

  “Then you know why we’re here,” Gus said.

  “I’m sorry we had to come at such a bad time,” Will added. “Sorry to hear about your sister, but under the circumstances…”

  “Yes, I know the circumstances,” Nathan said curtly. “Look. We’re as shell shocked as you must be. Mattie never heard from you. For months. She thought…she assumed…you were dead and gone. And, well, you know the rest. I want your assurance you aren’t going to harm my…Mattie…in any way before I let her see you.”

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” Gus said coldly. “I know you’ve been living a lie these past six years. I know you’ve been acting the father to my daughter while I wondered if she was living or dead. And I know I better see Mattie and my little Annabelle in the next five minutes or you’re not going to be standing upright and those pearly whites won’t be gracin’ your mouth.”

  Will put his hand on Gus’s arm to stop the escalation. “Listen, none of us can change the past, but we can make this right moving forward.” He looked directly at Nathan, his tone both smooth and authoritative. “We’re going to pretend you didn’t just insult Gus by implying he might hurt his wife and child. I know you’re being protective and that’s admirable, but be sensible, Mr. Jones.”

  Gus continued his staring contest with Nathan, but Will’s words caused the young man to blink. Nathan turned as Will spoke again.

  “Now, I take it you are willing to cooperate in order to effect an expeditious divorce?”

  Will asked.
r />   Nathan nodded warily.

  “All right, then. Under California law it’s much more difficult and time-consuming to obtain a dissolution of marriage, so you, my friend, are going to move temporarily to Nevada. We will handle the paperwork, there will be a six-month waiting period, and once the decree is finalized, you’ll be free to marry Mattie once again.”

  Nathan scoffed. “I can’t leave the ranch. That’s way too inconvenient. You’ve seen my father…”

  Will continued in a deadly calm voice. “Yes, I’ve seen your father, and I’m sure it will cause you some hardship to make up a story to your friends and neighbors and get some help running the ranch in your absence. That, however, isn’t my partner’s problem, it’s yours.” He paused, looking at Gus, who nodded. “But consider the alternative: we’ll tell your story to all who’ll listen. The papers adore scandal, you see, and Gus is well known. You and your poor so-called wife will be labeled home wreckers and bigamists, your poor son a bastard. And the little one still to be born? Well, he or she will bear the brunt as well.”

  “You would do that? What kind of men are you?” Nathan ground out.

  A small part of Gus felt sorry for the man. He must be feeling pretty flaccid right about now. But—

  Gus’s thoughts were interrupted by Will’s fiercely cold tone. “We’re the kind of men who don’t steal other men’s wives,” he said. “We’re the kind of men who own up to our mistakes and do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it’s ‘inconvenient.’ So what’s it going to be?”

  Nathan didn’t respond and for a long minute Gus and Will waited silently while the young man glared at them. Gus was on the verge of grabbing the pup by his lapels when finally, as if he couldn’t hold any more air, Nathan let out a long breath. He nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Smart man,” Will said lightly. “Now Gus here would like some time to reconnect with Mattie and his daughter, alone. So you and I are going to get them and bring them here. Understood?”

  The young man nodded again; he’d finally gotten it into his thick skull how much worse things could have been. Inside, Gus heaved a huge sigh of relief. After all those days and nights of wanting to punch out his frustration at the way his life had gone, he’d suddenly lost the will to lash out anymore. Now all he wanted to do was finish his business here and get back to Lia, before she sailed away.

  A few minutes later the door to the parlor opened and Mattie came in holding a little boy by the hand who looked to be on the young side of five. Even though she was wearing a dark gray dress, Mattie still looked like a fresh-picked jumbo peach; ranch life clearly agreed with her. Annabelle stood shyly next to her, a tall, sturdy girl of eight, dressed in a pretty pink pinafore with a matching bow in her soft blonde ringlets. She wore a little bracelet from which a small gold nugget sparkled.

  “Gus, this is my son, Nathaniel August Jones. We call him Nate.”

  Gus tore his eyes from Annabelle. He glanced at Mattie, surprised. She’d named her son after him? She must have honestly thought he’d died. The little boy had his father’s light brown hair. He rested his head on his mother’s leg as he watched Gus with sleepy blue eyes.

  “And…and of course, this is your Annabelle.” She didn’t have to coax the little girl forward; Annie seemed to be a confident little thing.

  “Are you my dada, come back from the dead?” She stood in front of him, looking directly up at him and saying the words with more curiosity than emotion.

  Gus squatted down to meet her at her level, his own eyes pooling with tears. “Yes, I’m your dada, Annabelly, but I was never dead. I just…had to be away for a long, long time, is all.”

  His daughter continued to examine him, reaching over at one point to trace the cleft in his chin and then touch her own. She then looked directly at his eyes, the same color as hers. “We look the same,” she said.

  It took all of Gus’s control not to crush her to him. All those years of wondering, the agony of not knowing, fell away. He wasn’t a prayin’ man, but he made a mental note to thank God for watching over his little girl, keeping her healthy and happy and safe. “Yes we do look the same, although you are much prettier than I am.”

  Annabelle giggled. “That’s what Papa Nathan says too. He says he’s gonna need a big ole stick to chase off all the little boys who will want to kiss me, but I just tell him he’s a silly willy.” She put her hands on her hips. “I will not have time for boys because I am going to be a fairy princess one day…or maybe a teacher.”

  Gus swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t doubt it,” he said gently. “You can be anything you want to be. But your…Papa Nathan is right about those little boys. He might just need to keep that stick.” He looked up and saw Mattie watching him, tears escaping her eyelids.

  “I am so sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Gus, I really thought—”

  Gus stood up straight. His mind reached for the anger and resentment toward Mattie that should have been inside of him, but he just couldn’t find it. She’d been duped just the same as him, and he didn’t doubt that she’d grieved him, at least for a little while. Instead, he felt a sort of calmness, as if all the tumblers had finally clicked into place and things were the way they ought to be. “I have something for Annabelle and Little Nate, if you don’t mind,” he said to ease Mattie’s discomfort.

  She smiled and said to her son, “Mr. Gus has something for you. Would you like that?” Nate nodded and smiled shyly. She gestured to the bag that Gus had brought so far and kept for so long.

  “Go ahead and see what’s inside,” Gus said. Nate reached inside the sack and began to pull out the blocks that his old friend Shorty had made, back in the Klondike. He immediately began to stack them up. Gus squatted down next him. “You see, if you stack them one way, they make a house, and another way they make a tree. Or you can do your numbers or your letters,” he explained. He stood up again and turned to Mattie. “I trust they won’t be too heavy this time around.”

  Mattie pressed her lips together as if to keep from crying.

  Gus then handed the brightly wrapped gift box to Annabelle.

  “For me?” Annabelle asked, her eyes round as gold coins.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Open it up.”

  Annabelle opened the box carefully and pulled out an exquisite porcelain doll, complete with gold ringlets, dark eyes that blinked, and a lovely pink and white dress with tiny white socks and shiny black shoes. The doll came with several colorful outfits, all hand sewn.

  “Oh Mama, look!” she cried. She showed her mother the doll before turning impetuously back to Gus and reaching up to him with the doll in her hand, reminding him of the times when as a toddler she’d insisted he pick her up. He leaned down to her and she grabbed him around his neck and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you thank you thank you, Dada,” she sang into his neck.

  He couldn’t help it; he held her tight and breathed deeply of her fresh, soapy smell. She was his little girl and he was hugging her again at last.

  After a moment, Gus looked up at Mattie. He could tell she remembered the other doll from Annabelle’s first birthday. “I gave it back to Janey Fortuna,” he murmured. “Bill struck it big the next year, took his family back to Illinois where I heard he’s got a big spread. They made it through okay.”

  Mattie bit her lip and nodded. Gus couldn’t help but wonder if she ever had second thoughts about giving up the ghost too soon. By the way she looked at Nathan, Gus figured those thoughts, if she had them, didn’t last long. He could tell she was happy. And it surprised him that knowing she was satisfied made him happy too.

  Mattie got her emotions under control and told the children to go show “Papa” what Gus had given them. After they left, she turned to Gus. “What happens now?” Her voice held a touch of trepidation.

  Gus motioned for her to sit down. “I can’t pretend it didn’t make me mad as hell to hear that Bethany Jones had lied and thrown me off your trail
so many years ago. But I am sorry your friend died before her time.”

  “Thank you,” Mattie said, reaching for a handkerchief in her apron pocket and wiping her eyes. “I remember Bethany coughing a lot from the first time I knew her,” she explained. “I guess sometimes there’s a lung weakness that just keeps getting worse.”

  “But Nathan and you and…the children are all fine?”

  “Yes, fit as fiddles. We all expected Nathan’s father to go first because he’s been so weak the last several years. Who knows, maybe Bethany wore herself out taking care of him. We all have our crosses to bear, I suppose. But Nathan’s done a real good job running the Double J. He has a real talent for it.”

  Gus could hear the pride in her words. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said.

  Mattie twisted the piece of linen in her hand. She was obviously worried about what Gus intended for her and little Annabelle.

  “I’m not gonna turn you in as a bigamist, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he assured her. “But you’re gonna have to do what my partner Will in there says, so that we can get the divorce finalized as soon as possible.”

  The relief on her face was plain as day. “Yes, yes, of course. Anything you need us to do. We’re just grateful you…you aren’t going to make a big fuss about it. I mean, going to the papers and all.”

  Gus shook his head. “I don’t want that kind of hullaballoo either, believe me. But I do want to get it done. I…I met someone and I aim to marry her.”

  “Oh, Gus, that’s wonderful.” Mattie reached out to touch his hand. “I’m happy for you. What’s her name?”

  “Amelia. Amelia Starling. I call her Lia. She’s…well, she’s soon going to be a very, very famous painter.” His own pride wrapped itself around his words.

  Mattie smiled. “I guess you did it,” she said. “You did what you set out to do. And now you’ve got a whole new life and it sounds to be a pretty fancy one. Good for you, Gus.” Her voice held no trace of irony or bitterness. He could tell she genuinely admired what he’d done, but held no envy or jealousy about it. Yes, the tumblers were all falling into place.