Summer 2012, the Krause family farm
The last thing Kate wanted to do was to attend a party in her honor. For the past two days, the old house had creaked with tension. She still followed Trudy’s instructions, but she was done acting bright and shiny for the woman. She couldn’t forgive Trudy’s lack of empathy toward her over the dead cat.
Joe had tried to make amends. After she’d calmed down, he’d gently explained that the hogs, chickens, and cattle were part of their livelihood and anything that put that at risk had to be eliminated. He also cautioned her against getting attached to any of the animals. Baby calves grew up to be steers that were shipped off to the slaughterhouse. The fluffy baby chicks that had cost the tom his life would one day be Sunday dinner. It was part of life on a working farm and she’d have to learn to accept it.
Kate grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. In a way, she felt sorry for him. In showing compassion to her, he’d driven a wedge between himself and his mother. Yesterday, Kate had overheard a conversation where his mother accused him of coddling his new wife. He was willing to find Kate a kitten and allow her to keep it in the house, but Trudy’s response to Joe’s plan was swift and to the point. She had no intention of sharing her house with a cat.
Kate, of course, had a remedy for that—move Trudy into the retirement apartments. And as soon as this party was over, she’d insist Joe keep his promise.
Leaning closer to the mirror, she put the finishing touches on her makeup. Not that it would do any good. It was so hot that once she stepped outside, it would melt off her face. She cocked her head to the side. The skin underneath her tan looked pasty, but two quick swipes of her blush fixed it.
“Kate, honey,” Joe called up from downstairs, “our guests are here.”
By the time the party was in full swing, some of Kate’s tension had vanished. She’d never remember all the names she’d heard this evening, but everyone seemed nice. The men had drifted off to one corner of the yard, and Kate caught snatches of their conversation while they discussed the current heat wave, crop prices, and sports. Once or twice she’d heard one of the men mention Ed Rodman, but she was too far away to hear Joe’s response.
The women sat clustered in lawn chairs near the back porch and the conversation flowed easily. Trudy hadn’t joined them. She flitted back and forth between the house and the yard, picking up plates and replenishing drinks. A couple of times the women had tried to draw her into the group, but she’d declined their overture. When she’d hustled off yet again, one of the women turned to Kate.
“How do you like Dutton?” she asked.
Kate gave a little shrug. “I really haven’t seen much of it—just the grocery store.”
Another one of them spoke up. “We heard about it. You ran into Rose Clement. What did you think of her? Did—”
“Doris,” another woman interrupted, “you shouldn’t put her on the spot.”
“Oh, come on, Betty. Kate’s living with Trudy. I’m sure she got an earful about Rose.”
Kate squirmed in her chair. “Ah no. Trudy didn’t say much.”
“That’s a first,” Doris replied, rolling her eyes. “According to my mother, Trudy’s been feuding with Rose ever since she married into the Krauses.”
“I know your mother is Rose’s friend, but Kate doesn’t need to hear about that old fight,” Betty chided.
“She does if she’s going to live with Trudy,” Doris argued.
Kate sat forward. “I don’t expect to be living with her much longer. She’s planning on moving into the retirement apartments as soon as one’s available.”
“What do you mean? I heard there’s—”
Betty’s foot shot out and nudged Doris before she could complete her sentence. “That’ll be nice for you, Kate,” she said smoothly. “My dad always made jokes about too many hens in the henhouse,” she finished with a laugh.
A third woman leaned forward and placed her hand on Kate’s forearm. “You mustn’t let Trudy get to you, sweetie. And take anything you might hear about her with a grain of salt. She’s led a hard life and it’s turned her into a hard woman. Ninety percent of the people in Dutton are intimidated by her.”
“Rose isn’t, Marjorie,” Doris interjected, “and that’s why Trudy and her don’t get along.”
Marjorie gave a snort. “I know your family’s friends with her, but there are those who don’t think Rose is all that sweet either.”
The questions that had been troubling Kate since meeting Rose came to the surface. These women wanted to gossip, why not make the most of it?
With a quick look over her shoulder to make sure Trudy wasn’t nearby, she leaned forward. “I really would like to know why Rose and Trudy don’t get along,” she said in a low voice.
Doris and Betty exchanged a look, then Betty shrugged.
“Rose has never liked the Krauses,” Doris said, scooting closer to Kate. “No one knows exactly why, but it has something to do with the murder—”
Kate drew back. “Murder!”
Doris’s glance darted to the side. “Shh, not so loud. Joe and Trudy don’t like it when people bring it up.” She looked over at Joe before returning her attention to Kate. “Jacob Krause was found murdered in his bed.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Right here in this house. Rose’s great-grandfather was the sheriff—”
Kate quickly did the math, then held up her hand. “Wait, wasn’t Jacob the one who homesteaded this farm?”
Doris nodded.
“That was over a hundred years ago,” Kate said, her eyes widening in surprise. “How could that matter now?”
“The Krause family curse,” Doris replied calmly.
Kate shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Doris, I think you’d better leave well enough alone,” Betty said sternly.
“No . . . no . . . that’s okay,” Kate murmured. “I want to hear the story.”
“Well,” Doris said, settling back into her chair as she warmed to her subject. “On July 2, 1890, someone slipped into the house and killed Jacob. Rose’s great-grandfather was the sheriff and the case was never resolved.”
“No one was found guilty?”
“Not exactly. Jacob’s oldest son accused Rose’s great-grandfather of botching the investigation. Shortly afterwards he resigned and moved his family over by Montgomery. According to Rose, those accusations ruined her great-grandfather’s life, and it took her family a long time to regain respect.”
“How does a family curse play into this?”
“The Krause family won’t talk about it, but from what people have pieced together over the years, they’ve always believed Jacob’s restless spirit roams—”
“Whoa . . . wait a second. You’re telling me this place is haunted?” Kate shot a nervous glance toward the house.
“Stop it, Doris,” Betty said, “you’re scaring her.”
Kate shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I want to hear the rest of the story.”
“Not much more to tell . . . because the killer was never brought to justice, they believe his ghost wanders this homestead and any sighting is an omen of bad luck.”
Kate glanced toward the old cabin. Was Jacob’s spirit there along with the mice and pigeons? She stifled a nervous laugh.
“That’s just a bunch of bull,” Marjorie interjected.
“But, Marjorie,” Doris began, “you’ve got to admit the Krauses have suffered a lot of tragedy. Fred was killed in Vietnam; two of Joe’s great-uncles died in World War Two; another great-uncle was killed in a farming accident. And they haven’t exactly prospered. At one time, they were the richest farmers in the neighborhood, but now Joe is barely—”
“Kate,” Betty broke in, glaring at Doris, “your glass is empty. Let me fetch you some lemonade.”
“I’m fine,” Kate muttered, trying to digest all this information about her new family. “I do have one more question—how many people have claimed to see Jacob?”
“Oh, they don’t see him,” Doris replied. “It’s a scream heard at midnight.”
The glass fell from Kate’s numb fingers.
Kate cornered her mother-in-law later that night after all the guests had left. Joe had gone to bed and they were alone in the kitchen.
“Trudy, I know you resent me—”
“I don’t resent you,” she sputtered. “I don’t know how you could think that.”
Kate chose not to remind her of the disapproving stares, the snide remarks, and the way Trudy treated her like a slave. “Okay, but do you agree that we got off to a bad start?”
Trudy’s attention shifted away from her. “Maybe.”
“Well, I’m sorry for the part I played, but I am a member of this family now and I’m going to be the mother of your grandchild. Don’t you think I deserve to know this family’s secrets?”
Trudy bristled. “It was that Doris Hill, wasn’t it? She never could keep her mouth shut, and her and her mother are thick as thieves with Rose Clement. I figured she’d stir up trouble when Joe wanted to invite them.”
“It doesn’t make any difference who did the talking. Do you believe this family’s cursed?”
Her mother-in-law crumpled into a chair and covered her face with her hands. “Joe doesn’t want me talking about it.”
“I won’t tell him.”
Trudy’s hands fell away from her face as her eyes grew hard. “I knew you’d bring trouble to this house from the minute Joe told me he planned to marry you,” she said in a vehement voice. “Finding you on that damn computer, like the women around here weren’t good enough for him. Getting you pregnant. Sneaking off to marry you. I told him then no good could come from it, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“You didn’t answer my question—do you believe there’s a family curse?”
“Yes,” she exclaimed, “ever since Jacob Krause was found murdered, this family has suffered.”
“But every family has problems,” Kate argued.
“Not like ours . . . too many deaths . . . too much loss. And now you’re here, and I see my son pacing the floor in the middle of the night and worrying about losing this farm.”
“I imagine Joe’s money problems started way before I came into the picture.”
“But if he’d have married Denise Michelson like I told him to do, her daddy would’ve helped him. He’s a banker and got plenty of money.”
Kate was shocked. “You wanted your son to marry for money?”
“There’s a lot of reasons to get married and love doesn’t always have to be one of them. It can come later.”
Kate rubbed a tired hand across her forehead. This conversation was going nowhere, but she’d finally learned why Trudy disliked her.
“I’ve seen my son change since he met you.” Trudy’s eyes narrowed and she looked Kate up and down. “You’re going to destroy him, just like Hannah destroyed Jacob.”
“What? Who’s Hannah?” Kate asked, confused.
“Hannah was Jacob’s second wife and you’re just like her. She didn’t fit in any better than you do.” Trudy wagged a finger at Kate. “Mark my words . . . history is going to repeat itself.”
Kate had had enough. She stood tall and glared at her mother-in-law. “I don’t care if I’m not the woman you wanted for Joe. I love him and I will make my place here, whether you like it or not,” she exclaimed. “This family curse is a bunch of crap and you’re crazy to believe in it.” She spun on her heel, then called over her shoulder. “History will not be repeated. I won’t let it.”
Halfway up the stairs, Kate heard the old music box begin to play. She paused and her teeth clenched as the tune skipped. Grabbing the stair railing, she stomped up the stairs.
I don’t care if the music box is an antique. At the first opportunity, that sucker’s getting fixed, she thought as she tromped into the bedroom.