The days began to take on a routine—Anora rising at dawn, making breakfast for Paxton and Hank before they left for work. For an hour or so, she had time to start the bread or wash, mend socks or sew buttons on shirts, before Isabell rose.
Isabell, listless and fragile, unable to endure criticism or take complicated instruction, worried everyone in the house. The little girl spent a lot of time alone, sitting on the back step, rocking and talking to Charity.
Whit came by every other day using the milk as his excuse. After two weeks had gone by, one evening he came right out and asked her, “What the hell are you doin’? You comin’ back, or what? Looks to me like they’ve made you a permanent fixture around here.”
Stepping off the back porch to get farther away from the opened door to the kitchen, Anora waved her arms over her head. “I can’t just leave, not until they’ve time to adjust. Isabel needs me now. I can’t leave her here by herself. No one is here during the daytime.”
“That ain’t your problem, Anora,” he said in a big voice that carried across the dark yard, and worse, probably into the kitchen through the half-open door.
Flapping her hands at him, she hissed and said, “Keep it down, they’ll hear.”
“I don’t give a tinker’s damn,” he said, projecting his voice in the direction of the kitchen window, which earned him a jab to his upper arm from Anora. “Ouch. Well, you got the whole town talkin’. That old cat at the mercantile is puttin’ it out you might’a poisoned Mrs. Reason so you could move in here and take over.”
“Oh, pish-tosh.”
He bent down, taking her by the shoulders to force her to look into his eyes “You don’t know it, Anora, but she says you got powers. You put a spell on those two boobs in there, poor grieving fools that they are.”
Anora brushed his hands off her shoulders. “She didn’t say anything like that. Why would she?”
He followed her farther out into the yard, sidling along beside her, talking in her ear. “Well, she says you did something. It had to be you ‘cause her remedies never fail. I heard her tell the Pooly woman that as soon as she could, she’d get her daughter, Molly, up here to keep house and send you packin’. You mark my words, Anora, if she had her way, you’d be tarred and feathered and run out of town.”
“That’s nonsense. You’re exaggerating, Whit. I know she doesn’t like me. She still thinks of me as Nuttie Norie Talbot, the half-whit wife of the ferryman.”
“Well, you should see her, Anora, she’s sweet as honey when Hayes or Reason is around, but I’m telling you, you got to get back to your place…now.”
Anora stopped to look up at the stars. She wrapped her arms over her chest and closed her eyes, inhaling the sweet smell of new grass and budding trees.
Whit came up behind her and spoke into her ear. “Hayes is working to take it over, you know?”
Her eyes flew open and she spun around. “Take what over?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, toeing the dust with his boot. “I was in the saloon, Bowdin and some of the others were spouting off about Hayes being a cool one, getting you into his bed, making the ferry and the landing into some kind of way station with a hotel and restaurant, maybe a livery. He’s lookin’ to get ownership of property on both sides of the river. That way, no matter which side the town sprouts, he comes out smelling like a rose.”
“I don’t believe it. Paxton is ambitious, I’m aware of that.”
He took her by the arm. “I tell you, he’s a skunk, a cheap, cheatin’, low-down skunk. Not a month gone by since his sister passes on and he’s plotting and conniving, and everyone knows it, ‘cept you. He’s got you all tucked in here fetchin’ and cookin’, playin’ house. I know you ain’t gone to his bed, but a fella like that, he’ll keep workin’ on you, he’ll get you there. Then, one day, after the challenge wears off, he’ll kick you out into the cold with nothing but the shift on your back.”
She hung her head. “I don’t think he’s as bad as all that, but you’re right. I’ve been pretending, pretending this big house with its fine furniture, pretty dishes, and crystal lamps, comfortable beds and warm rooms, are mine. I’ve been pretending Isabell is mine.”
Silently, to herself, she added for good measure, And I’ve been dreaming that someday, maybe Hank could find it in his heart to love me.
Aloud she said to the stars above, “It’s time to go.”
Whit took her by the arm. “Good.”
Deep in thought, Anora started for the house. Paxton hadn’t approached her for days. A few times she’d caught him looking at her in that way of his that made her want to put on more clothes, but he hadn’t tried to hold her or touch her. But every chance he got, he encouraged her to make his house her home. Now she recognized his smiles and compliments for what they were—bribes.
It didn’t bother Anora, what Tamara Gregson thought of her, or what she said about her, but she didn’t want the gossip to get back to Isabell. Isabell needed to be protected.
Coming to a decision, she said, before they reached the steps to the back porch, “I’ll leave in the morning. Do you know where the Pooley place is?”
“I can find it. I ain’t been there. Barney Ambrose would know, I’ll ask him for directions.”
“Yes, good. Do you think you could get out there tonight and have this Molly girl be here in the morning? I won’t leave unless Molly and Isabell get along. I won’t leave Isabell.”
“I’ll go right now,” Whit said. “What time is it?”
“It must be close to six o’clock.”
“Anora,” Whit said, already headed for his horse, “going back across the river, I won’t…it won’t be like before.” He took up Tansy’s reins and brought her over to the steps.
Anora put out her hand and stroked the horse’s velvety nose. “Thank you. I have to learn how to run the thing if I’m going to make it on my own. You were only trying to teach me. I know that now.”
“I put a shelter up for you,” he said. “I put it by Roscoe and Pete’s style, with a fire pit and everything, so you can stay warm and out of the weather.”
Looking deep into his eyes, she smiled at him and kissed him on the lips. With her arms around his neck, she said, “I do love you.”
Whit blushed; she knew it even in this poor light. He had a way of putting his head down and doing a little shuffle with his feet. In a flurry, he pivoted around and leaped up onto his horse, wheeling her around, putting her to a gallop.
“That one will always be riding away,” Paxton said, his voice a purr, his hand going to her elbow.
Tilting her head to the side, she patted his hand, then pulled her arm free to fold it across her bosom and turned to go back inside the house.
“You can’t love a piece of flotsam like that, Anora,” he said, following her into the kitchen. “I took you for a woman of sense.”
Over her shoulder, she said, “You don’t have to tell me about Whit, I know who he is.”
She put the kitchen table between them, then stopped to face him, her hands on the back of a chair. “Despite what you think, he’s quite lovable. I love him…like I love the wind blowing in the trees on a warm summer night or the sound of the whippoorwill just before sunrise. I know I can never control the wind or cage the whippoorwill, but I love them just the same.”
He shook his head at her, and she added, “Whit Comstock doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He’s always been truthful with me. He’s my friend.”
Paxton sneered, and shook his head. “You don’t seem to realize you’re driving me mad? It’s you, you make me crazy, Anora. It’s all your fault, you know. I want you to come to me…want me…need me, Anora, that’s what’s making me behave as I do. When I come out here, and find you cuddling up to a good-for-nothing like Whit Comstock, wasting yourself on the likes of him, I see red.”
She didn’t know how to respond, but now was as good a time as any to break free. “It’s time I went back across the river, Paxton. It’s time I went home.”
He laughed a mirthless laugh. “You are home. You can’t go back over there to that dingy, dank cabin. I won’t allow you to work that damned ferry. It’s too dangerous. It’s not a fit occupation for a woman.”
She made herself look into his eyes, determined to hear the truth, understand where she stood within his plans for his and her future. “What am I to you, Paxton? And what makes you think you have any right to dictate what I may do or not do? You’ve mentioned I’d have a house of my own. You’d protect me. How? Are you asking me to be your wife, or just your well-kept housekeeper…kept woman…chattel? Or maybe you’re thinking, partner—a very friendly partner—you’d expect bedroom privileges, of course. What would…say…Mrs. Gregson, the folks in town call me? Not to my face, of course.”
“Please, Anora, no one would dare insult you. You’d be a businesswoman, a woman of means and status. You are, after all, still a married woman, so marriage is out of the question. You must agree.”
There, she felt the blow and recoiled; eyes half shut, she groaned with shame.
Running a finger up her arm, he said to her, his voice low, “You should have pretty things. When I met you, I was taken with the tone of your voice, your intelligence. You weren’t born to work like a man, Anora. You’re a fine, beautiful woman, you deserve fine and beautiful things.”
The sight of him made her sick, she had to get away from him. “I’m leaving in the morning,” she said on her way to the hall. “Molly Pooley will be here to help with Isabell.”
Paxton reached for her, taking her by the shoulders and turning her around to face him. “You can’t run the ferry. I saw you. You were scared to death. This town needs that ferry. If you can’t run it, like it should be run, I’ll see to it you lose it, and the land that goes with it.”
At last, Paxton Hayes had revealed his true colors. “Whit is right about you. He thinks you’re a skunk,” she said, no longer bothering to struggle, or caring what she said.
He dropped his hands, arms going to his side. “If you’d be reasonable and listen to me, think about this a moment, you’d realize I have your best interest at heart. You wouldn’t have to be scared ever again. Let me take care of you. Let me protect you. You can have a place of your own, as soon as I can get one up. You’ll have a share in the profits, Anora—see sense. I won’t force myself on you. But in time, in time…”
∙•∙
“What’s going on down here?” Hank asked, rounding the landing at the bottom of the stairs. From the hallway upstairs, he’d heard Paxton’s voice, low and unusually threatening.
Anora met him at the bottom step. “I’m leaving in the morning. Whit’s gone to find Barney. He’s going to the Pooley’s to ask their daughter, Molly, to be here in the morning.”
Facing Paxton, squaring her shoulders, Anora said, “It’s time I got to work on my own place.”
Hank stood aside to let her pass. “We’ll miss you. Isabell will miss you. Have you told her about this?”
Anora stopped on the third riser, gripping the handrail. “No, I’ll go find her, and talk to her. Maybe she could come see me sometime, if that’s all right with you? I’ll miss her too.”
Looking away from Paxton’s angry visage, Hank nodded, “Sure. When I go up to work on the house, I bet she’d rather stay with you.”
She offered him a wan little smile before continuing on up the stairs.
With his hand on the newel post, Paxton watched her go. When he turned to face Hank, he wore a sneer on his lips. “She’ll be back, I give her a week.”
Not wanting to discuss this in the hall, Hank marched out to the kitchen. “What makes you think so?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of Anora’s fine coffee.
Humph, “It wouldn’t surprise me if she came back tomorrow morning. I doubt she can get back across the river.” Paxton held out his cup, and Hank filled it.
“I’ll go with her,” he said.
“No, damn it,” Paxton said, thumping his cup down onto the table. “What are you trying to do? Do you want her to leave? We need her here. I should think you’d want her here, for Isabell?”
Picking up one of Anora’s biscuits off the sideboard, Hank came to the table and sat. “Of course I’d like to keep her here. It makes it easier for both of us, and in time we could almost stop missing Lydia, I suppose. But Anora can’t stay here. There’s no other woman in the house. You and I are bachelors now. Your Mrs. Gregson has set tongues to wagging. Oh yeah, I’ve heard the talk. We can’t put Anora in that kind of position. Surely you don’t want to cause her any more distress?”
“Far from it,” Paxton said. “I told her I want to make her life easy, give her things. She can’t run the ferry. Hell, she can’t even look at the river, let alone cross it several times a day. If she’d see reason, I’d run it like it should be run. Build a boarding house or hotel, either over there or maybe put it on the Takenah side, where it belongs.”
Hank sat in silence; eyes narrowed, tongue in cheek, he asked, “So, you asked her to stay here, marry you, and you take over her property…the ferry?”
Paxton crossed an ankle over his thigh, tipping his head to the side. He had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Well…yeah…I asked her to stay. I never mentioned marriage. I never gave her any idea I’d ever marry her.” He looked up then to meet Hanks gaze. “I simply pointed out to her, she’s married. Even if I wanted to marry her, I couldn’t.”
Leaning forward, Hank got in his face. “You don’t want to marry her, even if you could.”
“That’s neither here nor there. Anora is married, Hank, that’s a fact. I can’t change that.”
Hank sat back in his chair and spoke to the steam rising off his cup of coffee. “Yes, she’s married, married to a lying piece of scum, who took everything she had—her virtue, her good name, her future.” Lifting his gaze to look into Paxton’s righteous visage, he said, “She’s been abandoned on a parcel of prime real-estate she doesn’t own but with a ferry she’s expected to maintain and run. And now, because you covet her body, the property, and the business, you thought you could maneuver her, bribe her with some pretty dresses and a roof over her head, and force her to do what you want. Is that about right?”
Paxton pressed his lips together and blinked and adjusted his butt in the chair.
“She told you to go to blazes, I hope.”
Paxton sat up straight, bristling, and said, “She didn’t tell me to go to blazes. She said she was leaving in the morning. I’m betting she can’t get across the river. And even if she does manage to get across, she won’t be able to work the ferry by herself. I give her a week. She’ll come back here, begging for my help. Even if she doesn’t, I still say she’ll never be able to work the ferry. If she can’t do it, then I’ll get the city council to incorporate it into the town limits and we’ll take it over.”
Lurching out of his chair, nearly tipping it over, Hank marched over to the slop pail under the counter and poured out his coffee. For a few moments, he stood at the counter, looking out the window above the dishpan, arms straight, gripping the counter. Putting his thoughts together, he turned to face his erstwhile brother-in-law. “You’re a bastard, Paxton. A bigger bastard than I ever thought you could be. I’m glad Lydia isn’t here.”
Paxton grew red in the face, coming to his feet. “Look here, you can’t talk to me like that. I’m a visionary, a realist, Hank. It’s better than being a big lummox. And Lydia knew exactly how I felt about Anora, she knew I couldn’t marry her. Anora’s not the kind of woman a man like me, a man with big plans, could have as his wife.
“And besides you know, and I know, I’d be doing her a favor taking the ferry over. I’d share the profits with her. I’m not a crook. She can’t do it by herself. She probably won’t even leave this house. If you weren’t such a big-hearted fool, you’d go to her, help me convince her to stay.”
“No,” Hank said, pushing himself away from the counter. “I’d rather be a big lummox.” He started for the back porch and stopped, turning to say, “If I can, I’ll help her, if she’ll let me. I’m not going to build the big house up on the hill. I’ve changed my mind. You’ve helped me come to a decision. I’ll get up a one-room cabin as fast as I can for Isabell and me. I think we can be out of here in a month, sooner if I get some help.”
“Hank,” Paxton said, on his heels, following him out to the porch and down the back steps. “Come on, Hank. You’re making a mistake.”
Paxton’s words echoed out into the chilly night. Entering the barn, Hank prayed he’d made the right decision.