The next day, when Nellie tried to broach the subject of Will, Jessa backtracked. “I like him and he likes me back, and that’s all.”
“But you said you’re gonna marry him.” Nellie pursed her lips like the schoolteacher she hoped to become.
“I said maybe I’d like to, some day.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“It’s what I meant. A storm in a teacup, Nellie. Not a thing to fuss over.”
“But Papa—”
“Now I’m sorry I even told you.” She turned her back on her sister. Nellie hadn’t done anything wrong, but Jessa had to stop this line of inquiry. She’d apologize later, explain how she had to keep it secret until Will could make his way to the Shinnery, get permission from Papa. Surely Nellie’d understand then. Jessa wondered if he’d gone that very morning. Perhaps soon he’d come through the gate to celebrate, permission granted.
Only he didn’t come that day, or the next, or the one after that. Each day the pit in Jessa’s stomach grew larger. What if he never came back?
By the fourth day, she couldn’t shake the thought that he’d gone to their place and Papa had refused him. But then she wondered, if that were the case, wouldn’t Papa have come to fetch her by now? Then there was Levi. What he had asked was impossible. Maybe he’d been drunk when he said it. Drunk people were unreasonable; she’d seen that at a barn dance or two. Will probably didn’t know anything about it. Still, Jessa had been watching. Mr. Martin carried the pocket watch on his person every day, and Jessa had no cause to be in his bedroom at night when he removed it—just the thought of seeing the mister in his nightshirt gave her the willies. Besides, that watch was from his father. His dead father. It’d be like stealing from a corpse, and she wasn’t a thief. Will wouldn’t want any trouble with the Martins either; they were his employers too. Anyone who wasn’t family would be suspect and likely fired—and once word got ’round to the church folk about it, he’d likely be let go there too.
It’d been a full week since the party. Papa had come for Nellie but said nothing to indicate Will had ever been to the Shinnery. Will had also failed to show up for lessons or coffee. Every day, Jessa’s worry grew. On Tuesday, a half hour before lesson time, she had installed herself on the back porch to wait. Sweeping imaginary grit, she saw Will in the distance. Something about his countenance troubled her. His eyes were downcast. Gone was the wide smile he usually wore, gone were the dimples. He trudged up the porch stairs. It seemed as if he aimed to walk right past her and into the parlor to begin the lesson.
“Mercy, what’s wrong?” she said, her voice on the edge of breaking. Mistake, mistake, mistake, mistake, ran through her head.
“Nuthin’.” His eyes were red-rimmed.
She got between him and the door. “My eye! Tell me.”
As if in surrender, his face seemed to collapse a little. “It’s bad, Jess.”
“What’s bad? Did my father—?”
“Your father?” His voice went low. “Is that what you’re thinking about?”
Her cheeks flushed. “No,” she said.
“Those men from Galveston, they want their money. Sent a couple of devils up here to beat the tar outta Levi. Broke his arm, cracked some ribs, and took every bit of cash he had. Now he can’t pay the liquor men, or Pinch-face, or . . .” Will stopped and pulled out his handkerchief; he wiped his face then blew his nose. “And he still owes three times what they took.”
Jessa didn’t know what to say. She’d thought seeing Will would allay her fears, but now they were magnified. Was it really as bad as all that?
“At least tell me you have it,” he said.
“Have what?” she asked but knew as soon as she said it. Will was after the watch. Not an ally, but a collector. “No, I can’t. The mister’ll know.”
“Maybe it fell off its chain.”
“It wouldn’t.”
“Sure it would,” he said. “Just make sure to break the chain. Leave it where he’ll find it.”
“It was his daddy’s.”
“That’s a shame,” he said, sounding like he meant it. He took her hand. “I’m with you, I don’t feel right about it either, but we’re in what you call desperate straits. Levi—” His voice choked up on his brother’s name. “I owe him my life, honey. He got me outta Indiana, saved me from getting the tar beat outta me every day. Then in Galveston, when I had that malaria, he nursed me better than our mama would’ve. Doc said I was a goner, but Levi, he never left my side.”
She couldn’t picture Levi looking after anyone, but it’d do no good to say so.
“We need that watch, and any cash you can get your hands on. They’ll bust me up next. You don’t want ’em breaking my arm or smashing my ribs, do you?”
Of course she didn’t. Not a pinky, not a hair on his head.
“I can count on you, right, partner? You my girl?”
Girl. On Saturday she’d been his bride. He slid his hands under her skirt, one hand headed for her most private place. That feeling almost caught her, the one where she wanted him to stroke her in that spot, but she resisted, pulled her legs together tightly. “What about the ring?” she said.
“Ring?”
“The one you gave me. You can take that.”
“Wouldn’t fetch a tenth of the watch, Jess.”
“Anything it’ll fetch. I don’t need a ring. We can go over to Haskell, to the clerk, and marry, or ask the Reverend Burchett, the Baptist minister. I bet he’d do it, real quiet.”
“I tell you Levi and me got a price on our heads and all you can think about’s getting married? I never pegged you for selfish.”
Selfish? He’d never been anything but sweet to her before this day. Jessa was thrown into a daze, like when she was a kid playing in the river and would lose her footing on the slippery rocks. Everything water and bubbles, searching for the wavy rays of the sun to discern up from down. They’d gone too far, and she was trying to secure her footing. “I’m sorry,” she said, although she didn’t know what for.
“Look, I want to get out to your folks’ place, make things right, but we’re in a heap of trouble right now. This mess is a hindrance to any future plans. You can see that, right? We gotta get clear of it.”
It did make some sense. At least the way he said it.
“That watch will buy us some time,” he said. “Can you get it tonight?”
She shook her head.
“I’m sorry to tell you, but Levi might show up here and cause you trouble if he don’t get it.”
“Why would he do that?” she said. How would that help Levi?
“He owes the mister money. Trade a scandal for debt maybe. Like you said, Mr. Martin wouldn’t like how you come out to the saloon.”
“But . . . Levi pulled me inside.”
“Still, Jess, you run off that night.”
He said it in a way that made her feel ashamed, as if he weren’t the one who’d asked her to come. She thought about the two of them naked in that room, how it hadn’t bothered her then, how it’d felt familiar somehow, a matter of course, the twain, one flesh. Now though, it didn’t even feel quite real. Had she really done that? Her throat went tight, and the heat of the day pressed around her.
“I’m not saying it’d be right for Levi to do it. I asked him to leave you out of it, I did, but he sees things I can’t sometimes. Bottom line is we’re not safe unless we’ve got something to offer those boys, so he’s lifting every rock he can find.”
“All right,” she said. “I’ll get the watch.” The depth of what she’d done that night was dawning on her.
“Leave it behind the privy. Under a big rock or something. I’ll find it.”
Later that afternoon, the missus invited Jessa to walk to town with her and the children. The missus jabbered about some fanciful hairstyle called the Newport knot, and how feathers and flowers were now déclassé. Jessa only half listened, such a stew she was in over the mister’s watch. She noticed that the purple groundcherry, growing flat along the road, had only a few scraggly blossoms left. The fair days of fall were spent.
Once they reached the mercantile, Jessa asked to be excused to go to the post office, saying she needed to collect the mail to take home to the Shinnery. Her hope was that Mrs. Posey might tell her more about what had happened at the saloon, if the situation was as dire as Will made out.
“In broad daylight, them fellers come in the saloon.”
Jessa walked in on Mrs. Posey midstory. Didn’t even have to ask.
“Charlie, that’s the bar dog, he was polishin’ some glasses, and Mr. Levi Keyes was settin’ at a table.”
Mrs. Posey had an audience of four, all men, none of whom Jessa recognized.
“He was eatin’ his scrambleds, when these three fellers ambled in, like regular customers. One came to the bar and the other to a table. Charlie poured a couple a shots and went back to yawnin’ on the glasses.”
Ting, ting, went the little bell over the door. A lady Jessa recognized from the Martins’ party came in. Jessa resented the interruption. She wanted to know the details of the beating.
“Nothin’ today, Mrs. Meyer,” said Mrs. Posey. The postmistress seemed eager to return to her gossip—gossip that apparently wasn’t appropriate for the refined ears of Mrs. Meyer. She crossed her arms over her large bosom and put her chin to her chest as if to say move along.
“No letter from my folks in Georgia? You’re sure?” Mrs. Meyer started to tear up.
“Bime by, it’ll get here.” Mrs. Posey came out from behind the counter, placed a hand on Mrs. Meyer’s back as she walked her out the door. “Texas women can’t afford such tears. What do we save ’em for, Mrs. Meyer?”
“Snake bites and widowhood,” she said, dabbing her eyes.
“That’s right; you’re learnin’.”
Mrs. Posey picked the saloon story back up without taking a breath. “So Keyes does some evalu-tatin’, decides these fellers is fine, only one sneaks up and grabs him from behind. The other feller pulls a pistol on my friend Charlie. They ask about the money Keyes owes, sumthin’ ’bout gamblin’ and bets he didn’t cover. Keyes says he ain’t got no money ’cept what’s in the till, so they beat him: smash his nose, kick his ribs, and break his arm.”
Jessa felt her bowels seize like she’d eaten a bushel of green peaches. So Will had been telling the truth. He was next in line if these roughs didn’t get their money. She couldn’t imagine someone hurting Will like that, though she didn’t feel too bad on Levi’s behalf, probably got what was coming.
“They took the till money and some more hidden in the icebox. Keyes gave up the location when he had his own Colt pointed at his head. To add insult to injury, them Galveston fellers stole that pistol as well. Charlie subsequently terminated his employment there.”
“Those the only two that were there?” asked Jessa. “Nobody else?” She wanted to know if Will was implicated in any way but didn’t want to ask outright.
“Nope. And a good thing too. Could’ve been a right nasty gunfight. Folks are already grumbling ’bout shuttin’ down the place. Any more trouble and they will. The captain won’t abide it.”
Jessa left the post office only to realize, when she got back to the store, that she’d never asked about the mail. What would happen if Levi were driven out of Rayner? she wondered. Would Will go with him?
That night after supper, Jessa could hear through the walls of the kitchen that the Martins—minus the children—were discussing events at the saloon. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hear well enough to glean any information about whether Mr. Martin was on the side of closing the establishment. When she hurried in with coffee, the missus was speaking.
“Matthew is progressing so well on the piano. Don’t tell me you would interrupt his studies on the hint of a rumor?”
“It’s no rumor.” The mister turned to Jessa. “I feel for some cream.”
Jessa practically leaped to the kitchen to grab the cream and get back.
“—a leader in this town,” the missus said. “Your employment of him speaks volumes.”
“Exactly. You, of all people, Charlotte, should know how one becomes tainted through an ill-advised acquaintanceship.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. No matter how much Jessa concentrated, she could not stop her hands from shaking. Was he alluding to the missus’s secret fiancé, Mr. Broussard?
The mister stood, bumping the table with his thigh, the coffee sloshing onto the saucer. “I’d like to cease this discussion. There are things you do not know, things I recently learned. Things of such a nature that I cannot discuss them with you.”
“Oh!” the missus said, as if suddenly understanding something significant. The problem was, Jessa had no idea what that thing was.
“So the boy—as you call him—will no longer be under my employ.”
Jessa felt like the roof was caving in. No chance now for Will to get the watch himself.
That night Jessa crept into the Martins’ bedroom. Two dark mounds in the dim light. One lightly snoring. As she neared the bed, she saw the missus with her mouth open, a white halo of hair. Jessa went to the tallest chest of drawers. An inlaid rosewood box rested on top; from Switzerland the missus had said. She lifted the lid. The watch gleamed in the dim light. She picked it up. “EJM” was etched across the top in elaborate script. She imagined her own father having such a thing to pass down. The war had stripped the Campbells of all their valuable possessions—the few they’d had. This was a treasure. She couldn’t do it. She put the watch back in the box. She had nineteen dollars of her own earnings, which she’d leave behind the shed. That’d have to do.