Jesse’s visits dwindled as the newspapers reported another series of robberies. Any time a reporter named Jesse as a suspect, Jesse would send the paper a letter claiming his innocence, or an article written by James Edwards would appear, who minimized the event and said the men were only continuing a daring war to avenge the South. In one such story, published in November of 1873, Mr. Edwards claimed to have interviewed Jesse and Frank. He wrote that Jesse spent a long convalescence at our boarding house in Harlem.
Had Mama read it, she would have collapsed in horror, but unlike Papa, she, thankfully, chose not to seek out information on what latest outrage her nephews may or may not have committed.
I read the newspapers that came my way, but secluded myself at home and abandoned any effort to see Catherine or the other women who had once been my friends. The thought of answering questions about my cousins, now so blatantly made public, would be more than I could stand. I found myself meeting each day with a fevered energy that did not burn out until sleep claimed me at night. I could not allow even a moment for my mind to be unoccupied. But after days of operating in such fashion, darkness arrived within me again, this time bringing such a heavy weight that I once more retreated to my bed.
Mama brought a bowl of broth to me. “Dr. Lykins is coming. I am worried your illness may overcome you.”
I rolled onto my side away from her to face the window. Gray clouds billowed in the sky, and a few raindrops spotted the glass. “There’s no need to leave the broth. I’m too tired to eat.”
She did not respond, and I heard the door to my room shut. Within the hour low voices murmured in the parlor. Soon Dr. Lykins entered my room, took my hand, and gazed at me with kind brown eyes.
“Zee, I know you have been through much, but you must make an effort to free yourself from worry over things you cannot change. Such musing is not good for your mind. Instead of burying yourself here, you should see people with whom you can develop friendships.” He nodded. “It might be wise to consider someone who could make you a loving husband.”
His words brought my head from the pillow. “It sounds as though Mama has spoken to you of things she wants for me rather than my own desires.”
Dr. Lykins laid a calming hand on my arm. “It’s true your mama has wishes for you, and since you’re a woman grown, I will speak frankly. Your mother fears your attachment to your cousin will harm you. You must remember Jesse James is a hunted man and will never be able to lead a normal life. I am sorry to be blunt, my dear, but I’ve seen cases such as yours, where a woman who has lost a love pines away until death. If you don’t forget about him, this situation could even affect your nerves to the point that someday you might be committed to the state insane asylum.”
My eyes widened at his harsh words.
“Now then, Zee, before things become so difficult, I believe it is in your best interest to leave the boarding house and its memories. If you think about what I’ve said, you’ll soon see I’m right.”
He patted my arm as though comforting a child and prescribed more of the same tonics as he had before.
The next morning, through long habit, my thoughts turned to Jesse. I counted the time since we first pledged to marry. Nine years! It shocked me to realize how long it had been. Rubbing my aching head, I considered the possibility that even if he wanted to, Jesse might be unable to abandon the notorious life he led. The thought made me want nothing more than to curl back under the covers, but I remembered Dr. Lykins’s words and forced myself to rise. My hands shook as I fastened the buttons of my dress, and I tried to think past the fog that gripped me.
Work had always been my consolation, and I used it again to make sense of my conflicting emotions. Upon considering Dr. Lykins’ words, one thing stood out to me above all else. At the age of twenty-nine, I needed to leave Mama and be out on my own. I’d already been hoarding whatever money she gave me and kept it wrapped in a handkerchief hidden in my dresser drawer. If there would be no wedding, at least I could use the money to help me go—but to what destination, I had no idea.
In the kitchen, a kettle bubbled while Mama peeled skin from potatoes.
“I need to speak to you, Mama.”
She paused a moment before her knife moved again. “Yes. What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about looking for work. Perhaps as a teacher or governess.”
Mama put the knife down and turned to me with brows arched. “What did you say?”
“I said I’d like to find a job.”
“Have you not enough duties here?”
“I’m stifled and close to losing my mind, as Dr. Lykins has been so eager to tell me. I need to leave this place.”
Mama’s eyes softened. “If you could find the right man to marry, your life would soon change. It’s a joyful thing to have a reliable man and children in your life. You and your husband could stay here with me and make a decent living. After I am gone, the boarding house would belong to you.”
“We’ve been over this many times already, Mama. I have no intention of marrying merely for the sake of gaining a husband.”
“But I’m afraid I cannot manage this place alone.” She rubbed her forehead. “Perhaps if you had a little time away, it would refresh your spirit. Let me consider the matter.”
Mama picked up the knife and continued to peel potatoes, her back straight as a poker.
I sighed and went to the garden, where I could sort my muddled thoughts. A mockingbird scolded while I pulled weeds with my bare hands until my back ached, and my nails were stained with dirt. I pulled and tossed and pulled and tossed, until a row of scraggly weeds were left to wither on the ground.
There were few options open. Nancy and her husband weren’t sympathetic to my plight and I didn’t want to beg from my brothers. The thought of going to Lucy tempted me more than anything else, but the stern hand of reason stayed my impulse. Lucy and I saw each other so rarely now. Boling feared my relationship with Jesse would bring trouble to their door. If I begged to move in, he would be apoplectic, and I couldn’t ask Lucy to intervene on my behalf. Her loyalty belonged to her husband. Yet there had to be a way.
On a morning so cool and wet with dew I needed a heavy shawl over my shoulders, I went outside to sip my coffee. The grass sparkled as though someone had sprinkled it with diamond dust. A train whistled, and I remembered the tracks ran both east and west. Either direction could bring a new life for me. It was then that I noticed the buggy traveling on the road moving slowly toward the boarding house. A large figure held the reins of a horse that plodded. I stared as they came closer. My mouth dropped when I recognized the driver.
Zerelda. The bonnet shading her face had wilted, and her clothes were damp and rumpled.
Mama joined me outside, a line puckering her brow. Zerelda drove the rig to the porch before she pulled back on the reins. I helped her step down, and her scowl deepened.
“I can’t stay for anything more than a sip of water before I go on my way. The Pinkertons have been sending men all through the county to hunt down my boys. Some brown-suited fool came to the farm asking questions, but left soon enough when he caught sight of my rifle. Others have been nosing around with the neighbors. You need to take care. It would not surprise me if a stranger came here pretending to be someone else. Mark well that such a person could be a rattlesnake in disguise.”
Mama nodded, her eyes shadowed. “We never talk to anyone outside family about the boys. You can trust us to help in whatever way we can.”
“Yes, I know that, Mary, and I thank you. We have always been able to depend on you, and that fact will never be forgotten. As for you, Zee,” she added gruffly, “you hold a special place in my heart. I give you credit for saving Jesse’s life. He’s spoken to me often of his deep affection for you.”
It was a bold statement to make in front of Mama, when Zerelda surely knew of Mama’s opposition to our relationship. A small part of the weight on my shoulders lifted at what I deemed to be her support, and my lips turned up.
She spared me a brief smile before fixing a sterner eye on Mama. “I hope sometime soon my boys will be free from persecution and able to live a normal life without the harassment that comes my way and theirs. Nearly every day someone is watching at the edge of the farm or trespassing on my property. They’re keeping my family from me. I want to see Frank and Jesse without worrying one or both of them will be hung from a tree like the Federals did to Reuben.”
“I understand your feelings.” Mama pointed at the porch. “You look exhausted. Perhaps you should come and sit with us in the shade for a while. I can fetch you something cool to drink.”
Zerelda shook her head and turned toward the wagon. “Never mind. I can’t linger here any longer. There are other places to stop before I can take the train for home.”
My brow furrowed. Given Frank and Jesse’s increasing infamy, I wondered if Zerelda’s dream would ever be possible. She nodded briskly toward Mama, and I helped her climb back into the wagon. Zerelda moved stiffly as Mama sometimes did. She had aged so much in the last few years. Perhaps we all had.
She lifted the reins, and the horse broke into a trot, wagon wheels drawing ruts in damp earth. I knew she would spread similar warnings to our neighbors. It wouldn’t surprise me if she sharpened her warnings with implied threats for those less sympathetic to her cause. Mama glanced at me and then trudged into the house.
The increased interest of lawmen fanned my fear for Jesse, and for us as well. An odd prickly feeling settled on me that I couldn’t shake—as though someone had walked on my grave.
Within days after Zerelda’s warning, a rider approached the boarding house. I half-turned, wondering whether to run inside for Papa’s old pistol, when I recognized our neighbor, Jim Lindell. A sigh of relief left me.
He reined in his horse. “Zee, can you get your ma? I have news for you both.”
Mama must have heard the horse hooves because she stepped outside, wiping her hands on her apron. “What is it, Jim?”
“The town is buzzing with news from Independence that I knew you’d want to know. A Pinkerton detective got himself killed in a shootout. I hear John Younger was shot dead, too. I reckon Zerelda was right when she came by to warn us trouble was coming.”
Heart skittering, I couldn’t keep myself from asking, “Mr. Lindell, was anyone else wounded?”
“One other detective got hurt pretty bad, but it sounds like he’ll live.” He scratched his stubbly chin. “They say the war’s over, but it sure feels like the fighting is never going to end.”
My fears deepened, and sleepless nights returned. More often than not, I left my bed to count the stars. In light of the latest round of violence, the thought of leaving Mama alone to cope with whatever might come next made my stomach clench. I couldn’t desert her now. Until I knew more, I decided to delay making any final decision about my future. Surely after so much time already had passed, a few more months wouldn’t matter.
As it happened, news came sooner than I expected. On a day when Mama drove into town with Mrs. Lindell to buy supplies, a solitary messenger rode to the house. Even after he stopped his horse, the animal pranced about as though he were accustomed to running. The rider had a silver-striped beard and a hat sat low on his forehead, keeping his face hidden. The horse blew heavily when the man leaned down to hand me a small piece of paper.
“A message for you, miss,” he said.
I took the note, and the man loosened his reins to let his animal charge away. I watched until he was out of sight, and then my fingers fumbled to open the paper. I scanned the few words scribbled on it and inhaled sharply.
Dearest Zee,
I cannot bear to wait any longer. It’s time we fulfill the pledge we made so long ago. Be ready, for I will arrive very soon so we can make a plan to start our new life together.
With love and much anticipation,
J.J.