by Kari Trumbo
“Did she say anything to you, girl?” He stared down at his liver and white dog, with giant brown eyes.
Gracie laid her head on Elias’s knee and glanced at him for a few seconds, then shifted her gaze away.
“How was your first night with the cat? I didn’t hear any trouble.”
Elias didn’t really expect the dog to answer, but the house was too full to be so quiet, and he couldn’t stand it. Daisy was here. He wasn’t supposed to feel so alone anymore. Yet, here he was, talking to his dog when the woman he loved was just up the stairs, ignoring him.
The kitchen was tidy, neat as a pin, and much cleaner than when he’d left it the night before. He couldn’t just leave his dirty plate for her to wash, not when she already felt like an unpaid housekeeper. He washed his own plate and tossed out the wash water for her.
There wasn’t a peep from up the stairs and finally, he went back to his room to trim and shave and finish preparing for his day. Just as he’d lathered his face for his shave, the front door opened and closed quietly. Daisy had left for the day without speaking a word to him. His chest filled with lead. He’d been mocked and disdained for his size for the entirety of his life, but Daisy’s silence hit the hardest.
To make it to work on time, Daisy left the house a full hour before her scheduled start time. She’d been awake for hours, anyway. Elias hadn’t been able to answer a simple question. Why had he married her? There were many possible answers that were pleasant enough, but to come up with nothing…not even the same old answer he’d always given that they wouldn’t be alone…was revealing and painful. She couldn’t face him.
He didn’t want to kiss her, or hold her, he didn’t want to be near her, but he needed and wanted her to stay at home. There was nothing else she could possibly believe except that he wanted her to cook and clean for him, to look after his dog and keep her cat out of the way. She’d have to find time to do his shopping and his laundry, all for the honor of sleeping under his roof, but never with him as a wife should. It made tears well up behind her eyes. While she’d always known she was plain, it had never been so abundantly and blatantly clear as the morning after her wedding night.
She wasn’t a wife, not really. She’d signed her name, but had never said her vows before God, there hadn’t even really been vows. The tears that had threatened a moment before released.
“What have I done?” She swiped them away, though no one would see. Beau and Ruby had always told her that she had the choice to marry whomever she wanted, they wouldn’t stand in her way if she’d found love. It was one of the biggest decisions she would ever make, one not to be taken lightly. Her father, the one she could barely remember, had threatened to arrange all of their marriages. She’d done just that. Now, she wished Beau and Ruby had taken more time to guide her. They may have talked some sense into her. It was too late now; the papers were signed. She was a married woman.
Daisy looked down at her plain narrow skirt that she’d tailored to match the fashions she’d seen in the catalogs. She’d always been somewhat small compared to her sisters, and the store never carried clothes that fit her well. She was a few inches shorter and often had to stand on her toes to reach things others did not. She’d never been called pretty, though her sisters were.
Her sisters, Hattie and Eva, had golden hair, while hers was merely blonde. Lula’s curls were beautiful, her own hair was only a little curly, not to the fashion of tight spirals. It seemed no matter what she tried, nothing quite worked out. Not with her looks, her education, her job, and now with her spouse.
Daisy rushed up the front stairs of the courthouse, the white concrete gleaming in the morning sun. It reminded her that even cold things, like the halls of justice, could reflect light. She had to find the light, the good, in her marriage and make that better.
Since she’d reached the courthouse before her usual start, she set to typing up the unfinished files from the day before. Now, she regretted leaving early the day before. What had the night given her besides tension in her belly? She should’ve had a lovely wedding evening. Instead, she’d gone home with her husband to find out that no matter how nervous he was around her, it wasn’t because he wanted her affection as she wanted his. She’d only managed to disrupt the quiet of his house.
He was handsome enough to find a beautiful wife, yet he’d yoked himself to her. Out of some distant loyalty that he should’ve forgotten the moment he left Deadwood. Hadn’t she done the same? She’d made that agreement under the tree because she’d been so infatuated with Elias that she couldn’t say no. Even knowing the contract was a farce, she wouldn’t break it. What good was her word if she did? Yet, she’d offered him freedom from it and he’d refused.
There were no answers and he wasn’t offering anything. What option did she have? She’d agreed to be a good and dutiful wife, that included doing all those things he expected of her. But what of her own needs and desires? Didn’t they account for anything?
Alma Potters, a graying historian, who used to take dictation in the courthouse before Daisy, waited for her at her desk. “Daisy, I just had to come find you. Martin is missing.”
Daisy pulled another chair over into her alcove and took Alma’s hands in her own. She could think of someone else’s problems, which would take her mind off of her own.
“When did you see him last?” Martin was Alma’s husband and sometimes got it in his head that he was capable of doing things that he’d done as a much younger man, like ride unbroken horses … through town.
“He was at home when I left yesterday morning. I kissed him goodbye and told him I’d be home by my usual time, but he wasn’t there when I returned. I usually get an idea when he’s going to go on a lark, but this time he said nothing. He usually starts talking about doing things and then I’ll get him settled down. Sometimes it works, sometimes not.” Alma wrung her hands in her lap. “I don’t even know where to begin looking. The sheriff warned me not to let him out again. If he pulls something, I’ll lose my job, because they’ll tell me I need to be home with him. How do we eat if I can’t work? Martin can’t farm anymore.”
Daisy bit her lip. The man that Elias was representing, who’d been taken into custody two days before, was Martin’s cousin, and they were rarely apart. “Do you think he’s gone over to the jail to visit Saunders?”
Alma shook her head. “I checked there already. The bailiff said that they haven’t seen him.”
It was possible they weren’t telling the truth at the jail. Everyone in town looked out for Martin and assumed that Alma would be angry. The town had known about Martin’s episodes for a long time before his wife was involved, and Daisy had learned, from quietly sitting in the courtroom where people gossiped, that this had been happening for years.
Daisy handed Alma a kerchief. “Let me ask around quietly today and see what I can find out. Perhaps when you get back home tonight, he’ll be waiting for you.” Though she doubted it. Martin never seemed to return to normal without a little help, and things had gotten much worse the older he got.
“Thank you, dear. Please, don’t tell the judge. He’ll either tell the sheriff and I’ll be in trouble, or I’ll lose my job. They’ve already said there may not be much of a need for me anymore.” Her bony jaw trembled. “I don’t know anything else.”
“Don’t you worry, Alma. If you can’t work here, we’ll see if the city would be willing to pay for you to help at the Henry Way Museum. You could work there with Martin by your side, where you can keep an eye on him.”
Alma ducked her head. “Thank you, Daisy. I didn’t know who else to turn to. You’ve always been so kind.” She dabbed at her eye and sniffled loudly.
Kind. That’s what she would need to be with her husband, and exactly what she hadn’t been that morning. She had to show him kindness to win his love, not ignore him because she was in a pique she couldn’t talk to him about. She had to be herself, the Daisy she was with everyone else. Her husband deserved her best, not what was lef
t. She could never expect his love if she didn’t.
“Don’t worry about it a moment more. I’ll be discreet, and we’ll find Martin. Someone must have seen him. I’ll talk to you later today and we’ll see if I can figure anything out.”
Alma stood and pushed Daisy’s chair back under her desk, leaving her kerchief on the edge. “I’ll do that. I’d best get back to work. I don’t want them to find even more reasons to replace me.” She tried to smile, but it quivered and faltered. Poor Alma worked so hard for the man she loved, and he never thanked her or ever realized what he put her through.
“Men can be such infernal creatures,” Alma said, as she turned to leave.
“Amen,” Daisy mouthed back as she pushed the other chair back into its place.
Chapter 9
Patches was from the Devil, Elias was certain of it. From the moment Daisy left, the cat tormented Gracie. She would hide in the smallest of places until his poor dog would walk by, then she would jump out, claws extended, and make a horrific noise, landing on Gracie’s back and screeching. His stalwart companion would race in a circle to attempt to unseat the beast, and when that had been accomplished, Patches would hide yet again for the whole scene to replay.
Elias had finally locked the cat in Daisy’s room and prayed she wouldn’t wreck anything, but he couldn’t abide another moment of the cat. That was one aspect of a wife he hadn’t bargained for. Yet, he’d expected Daisy to move to his home, take his name, accept his furniture and his rules. He should put up with the thing just to even the score. The cat had seemed like a little issue, until he’d had to chase her.
The beast sat up in Daisy’s room, howling as if it were dying. It wasn’t, though he’d almost hoped. When he’d gone up to check on it, it had dashed out of the room between his legs and raced around the house faster than the chickens he’d had to catch when he was a boy. It was a nuisance, and now that it was safely behind the door once again, he could finally relax and work on his case.
Saunders would go before the judge the following day, for making a threat against a neighbor. The neighbor had purchased a new car and the engine was louder than Mr. Saunders wanted to hear, so he’d told him to shut it off, or he’d make sure it never ran again. He was now in jail to keep him from making good on that promise.
Problem was, a threat meant nothing, at least not until he was armed and ready to make good on it. People made threats all the time, it didn’t mean they would actually do anything. His client had a right to peace and quiet as much as his neighbor had a right to his car. Therein was the problem. He’d have to think on it some more, but that would have to come after Daisy returned home and quieted down her cat. He couldn’t think with all the howling.
Gracie laid under his chair, her head draped over her paws, with scratches behind her ears. She’d never asked for such treatment in her own home and it hurt his conscience to look at her, knowing it was his invitation that had earned her the wounds.
“I’m sorry, girl. I wonder if I haven’t made the biggest mistake of my life. I was so sure I wanted Daisy here and thought just having her with me would make me happy. But, she wasn’t happy last night or this morning. Being with me doesn’t please her as much as it does me, and now I feel selfish for following through with it.” He leaned over and gently patted the dog on her back, avoiding her ears so the scratches wouldn’t hurt. The dog grunted and sprang up at the attention, resting her chin on his leg.
Gracie looked up at him with her big, brown, plaintive eyes that were shiftier than a humming bird in a flower patch.
“I know you don’t like the cat, and I don’t like making Daisy unhappy. Maybe I should talk to her tonight. If being here makes her unhappy, we could get an annulment. The judge would think that we’d wasted his time, but I won’t force Daisy to stay here and I can’t keep that cat.” The offending beast let off a howl fit to wake the dead, and Elias sighed.
Someone rapped gently on his door and he tugged his pocket watch from its chain. He should’ve gone to pick up Daisy an hour before. If he had, it would’ve allowed her time after her regular day to type up all her documents. He rushed from his chair to answer the door and grabbed his driving jacket as he went to see who’d knocked. He’d have to rush to pick her up.
He swung the door open and Daisy stood on his stoop. She hadn’t called him, hadn’t even felt comfortable enough to walk into her new home. She was both his wife, and a stranger.
“I’m sorry. It still doesn’t feel right to just walk in... I had to knock, it’s not my home yet.” She blushed and ducked her head as she rushed past him.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve gone to pick you up, but—”
Patches took that instant to screech from the confines of Daisy’s room. Daisy’s eyes went wide as she rushed through the house. She yanked off her coat and tossed it on a chair as she dashed toward the stairs, leaving him at the door.
He raced after her, hoping to explain. If Daisy were mad at him, he’d beg for her forgiveness. “Nothing is wrong with her, please don’t let her out. She’s been tormenting Gracie all day long.”
“Tormenting?” Daisy stopped for a moment mid-stride, halfway up the stairs, and she turned back to him, her eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me my poor cat has been locked in my room all day with nowhere to do her business?”
He hadn’t thought of that. “I didn’t know what else to do. Look at Gracie’s neck.” He stood back so Daisy could see from the stairs. The red gashes stood out, harsh on the against the white fur on Daisy’s back.
“There has to be some other way, some compromise we can come to, that won’t involve locking her up all day in my room, my poor baby.” Daisy opened her door and all the caterwauling stopped immediately. Patches rubbed against the door jamb, then against Daisy’s legs as she slowly exited. It was smart enough not to go anywhere near him.
“I don’t see how Patches could do such a thing. She is so sweet and kind. I’ve never had trouble with her.”
He wouldn’t argue with her. He’d been there all day and she had not, but he wouldn’t start an argument with the first words his wife had spoken to him all day. “You’ve never left her alone in a strange house with a dog before,” he pointed out.
She picked up the cat, burying her face in its neck, and Elias couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Daisy closed her eyes and smiled as she brushed her cheek over the cat’s head, and Patches purred. Daisy would never be that close to him, that happy with him, that comfortable with him. No one would. He wasn’t able to ever make her happy. It was best that he let her go.
Daisy glanced at him and flushed pink, letting the cat jump from her hands. She crossed her arms over her chest and put on a defensive mask of indifference. The one he was used to seeing from all other women.
“I’ll go downstairs and start supper. I may be home a little late tomorrow, if I need to do the shopping. Do you have an account anywhere or should I just take cash and a list?”
She was so cold, so matter of fact. Was this what marriage was like? He hadn’t thought it would be.
“Daisy, before you make anything, let’s go down and talk at the table.”
She waited for him to move first, instead of trying to brush past him. Was he so terribly big and horrid that she couldn’t even get by him in the stairwell? Once they’d reached the kitchen, he held out her chair and she sat.
“Daisy, I think we need to talk about yesterday, last night, and today. I’m not so sure we, either of us, thought this through. After much deliberation today, I don’t think this will work. Look at how unhappy you are, after just one day.”
Her eyes snapped with fire. “Are you divorcing me…over my cat?” Her chest heaved, and she looked like she might either pummel him or scream. He didn’t much like either option.
“No, Daisy, this isn’t about the cat. It’s about me. I can’t make you happy. I thought you would be, just being here with me. I thought we would be just as comfortable as we once were. But I can see that’s n
ot enough. There’s no sense in us being married if we both want different things.”
“You don’t want me anymore? After being married to me for one evening, you haven’t even kissed me yet and you want to get rid of me? Am I such a horrible wife that you would toss me out after one day?” Her lip trembled. “I’ve been thinking all day about how I could win you over, make you think I was attractive and worthy of being your wife, and you don’t even want to try … at all?” She stood and paced to the other end of the house, avoiding him.
Her words rained hot coal on his head. Daisy stood so far away from him, shuddering with her arms wrapped protectively about her waist. She was so small and fragile, yet, she’d been thinking about him all day, worried about him and what to do to make her more desirable. It wasn’t possible. He’d never desired anyone more.
“Daisy. You couldn’t be lovelier. I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first time I talked to you under the oak tree when we were twelve.” He couldn’t tell her why he couldn’t love her as her husband should, it was so obvious. She had to know. All she had to do was look at him to see he was a monster. “But I just can’t.”
“Can’t,” she repeated. “You keep saying ‘can’t’ but you never tell me why.”
All day she’d fought against the ever-present tears that sprang up when she thought about her wedding night. Since walking to work far too early, then talking to Alma and the judge, and finally the whole walk home, she’d had to blink away the tears that wouldn’t stop. She’d been sure he would come and pick her up after work, so they could get a few more things from her room, but now she knew why he hadn’t come.