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* * *
Lucille could not sleep. That much was clear. Leonard felt every toss and turn she gave as she rolled around in bed until well past midnight.
“What’s wrong?” he finally asked her, his eyelids wishing they could close but utterly unable to with the way she was thrashing about.
“Nothing,” she said, letting out a heavy breath.
He looked at her in the darkness and saw the whites of her eyes glinting off a sliver of moonlight.
“Just tell me,” he said. “Maybe then we can both get some rest.”
In truth, he would have traded all his sleep for the next month just so he could lay next to her in this bed. He’d missed her warmth more than the anything, even the comfort of the mattress. His office had felt cold and sterile next to the heated body lying beside him now, her soft breath inhaling and exhaling in a steady rhythm, even if that rhythm was tinted with frustration.
She let out a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m worried,” she said.
He wasn’t sure that was quite enough information. There were a lot of things to be worried about right at the moment.
“About Decker?” he asked.
“No... yes. About what he plans to do with Effie.”
Now it was his turn to sigh. “We’ve already been through this. She’s fine. At least for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll figure out our next step.”
“But you know perfectly well that you can’t trust a word Decker says. What if he’s changed his mind about holding off from shipping her out to Jefferson City? What if he means to go through with it even after what Dr. Harcourt said? What if he’s decided he ought to act sooner rather than later because he’s afraid she might die before she can stand trial, so he’s moving her out right now? Tonight?”
“I doubt it.”
“Yes, but you don’t know it. Do you?”
He hesitated then admitted he did not “know.” Not for sure. But no one could know for sure with Decker. He was an inconsistent man.
“That is precisely my point,” said Lucille. “You can never know what a man like Decker is thinking.” She threw back the covers and sat up, bringing her legs around to the side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” he asked, alarm ringing in his brain.
“I’m going over there,” she said.
“Over where?”
“To the sheriff’s station.”
Now Leonard sat up and brought his legs around. He jumped out of bed and hurried around to Lucille’s side, pushing her gently but forcefully back onto the mattress when she tried to stand up.
“No,” he said.
She looked at him. “No?” she asked. “I am not a dog. You cannot simply bark orders at me and expect me to obey.”
“You are my wife,” Leonard said, trying to sound reasonable. He was having a difficult time keeping his voice calm. “More than that, you are a deputy’s wife. You cannot go traipsing through town in the middle of the night with the intention of... of what exactly is your intention anyway?”
Lucille blinked back at him. “To free Effie, of course.”
Leonard threw his hands up in the air. “Are we back to that again? I thought you said you would not help her attempt an escape.”
“I won’t,” she said. “So long as Marshal Decker remains true to his word and does not try to transport Effie out. If everything looks all right to me when I get to the station, then I shall simply turn around and come back home. No harm done.”
“And what if Decker is there? What if he is trying to transport her? What then? Are you going to fight him with your gun that does not contain any bullets?”
Lucille shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, her bottom lip pouting out. She was staring hard at him. “You’re not going to back down, are you?” she asked.
“No.”
She groaned. “I suppose you’re right,” she said settling back down.
Leonard’s shoulders relaxed. “I am?” He did not entirely trust this sudden change in Lucy’s attitude and prayed it was not all an act.
“You are,” she said. “I don’t know what I would do if Marshal Decker were actually there, let alone attempting to load her into a coach to cart her off to Jefferson City. I’d have no way to stop him, really.” She laid her head back down on the pillow, frustrated for certain, but also clearer in her thoughts.
Leonard watched her for a few moments longer than slowly made his way back to his side of the bed. He got in and pulled the covers over them both. He continued to watch her though.
“You think you can sleep now?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll try. Maybe in the morning, I’ll have some new ideas.”
She was giving in too easily. Though there was nothing in her manner to suggest she wasn’t telling the truth, he knew her better than to blindly trust what she said. Lucille was not the sort of woman who gave up until she got what she wanted.
“I admire your desire to help Effie,” he said. “I want to help her as well, it’s only that... well, you are more important to me that she is. I’m simply not willing to compromise your safety for hers.”
Lucille turned on her side and looked at him, one soft hand brushing against his cheek. “I admire so many things about you,” she said. “You wants to protect everyone, especially those you love. There are men in your position who would rather flaunt their power than use it wisely. I’m so glad you’re not one of those men.”
She started to pull her hand away, but he held onto it, unwilling to let her go. He kissed her palm, a light film of salty-sweet sweat on her skin.
“Are you warm?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m just nervous, I suppose.”
“Nervous?”
“About the future. About what tomorrow might bring.”
“Whatever it shall bring, we shall face together. Of that, you should be certain.”
She smiled at him and inched closer, closing the gap between them. She started to open her mouth and say something, but then quickly shut it again. Leonard almost asked her what it was she meant to say but then thought better of it. His heart was pounding in his chest, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk. Especially if it was more talk about Marshal Decker.
He pressed his lips to hers and caught her mouth by surprise. She parted her lips for him, allowing him entry. His hand moved up and down her arm, caressing it gently as her eyes closed and she began to purr.
He moved even closer now, allowing no air between their bodies. Her hand moved under his shirt, sliding up his back. He let out a soft moan letting her know how much he appreciated her touch. He kissed her again and knew he would not be able to stop. He could tell from the way she pressed back against him that she did not want him to.
In the morning, as the sun started to climb in the sky, Leonard reached out for her and found the bed empty. His first thought was not alarm, but disappointment. She was already awake and probably making breakfast for them. He had hoped to have a little time together beneath the warmth of their covers before rising for the day.
He rolled over and opened his eyes, realizing that he did not smell bacon or eggs cooking as he normally did. He inhaled deeply and could detect no scents at all. Where was the bread? Where was the pork? He sat up now, alarm slowly building within his chest. It was later than he’d realized.
“Lucille?” he called out. She did not answer. “Lucille?” he called again, louder this time.
When there was still no answer, he got out of bed and quickly dressed. He found the house deserted, the only evidence that Lucille had even been there this morning was a note she’d left for him on the kitchen table.
Dear Leonard,
Always remember how much I love you. I cannot let Effie take the blame for what I’ve done. I hope you can forgive me for what I must do. Never forget that I’m yours, even if I cannot always be with you.
Love,
Your Lucy
* * *
