CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

Their surrey turned into Ravenwood.

“Thank you for coming with me to break the news to Virginia,” Justine told Harland and Goosie.

“You know someone’s always in need of something medical at Ravenwood,” he said.

“And I have little to do at home with Dorthea gone.” Goosie lifted a single finger. “Besides, Virginia’s a survivor. That’s the sort of woman I want to meet.”

Justine slipped her hand around Goosie’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll like meeting you too. And I can use the moral support.”

The surrey stopped out front and Harland helped the ladies down then offered them his arms. “Shall we?”

Mr. Sutton greeted them and was introduced to Goosie. He told the ladies that Virginia was out in her garden, then led Harland to a patient who was having severe headaches.

On the way toward the garden, Justine showed Goosie Virginia’s mural.

“She has true talent,” Goosie said. “But . . . it seems wasted here.”

“Perhaps.” Justine gave Goosie a short tour, saying hello to the residents who sat in the parlor or the ones they met in the hall. As they went out a side door, Goosie commented under her breath, “They don’t seem insane.”

“I agree. They just seem eccentric. You’ll find Virginia as sane as you and I.”

Goosie chuckled.

Justine spotted Virginia on her knees, planting in the garden. She helped Goosie walk across the uneven terrain.

Virginia saw them and stood, waving. “Justine! So glad to see you.”

They walked between the rows of plants. “Virginia, I’d like you to meet my dear friend, Goosie Anders. Goosie, this is Virginia Meade.”

They each bobbed a little curtsy. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Meade,” Goosie said.

“Virginia. Please.”

Goosie nodded.

“Goosie . . . how did you get that name?”

“My given name is Agatha but as a child I used to play with the geese.”

“Goosie it is, then.” Virginia surveyed her garden. “I have the beans in. Cucumbers and squash are next.”

“I miss my garden back in New Hampshire,” Goosie said. “I especially liked rhubarb.”

Virginia made a face. “Never did take to that one. Such a funny-looking plant.

Justine patted Goosie’s hand. “Goosie makes delicious rhubarb pie.”

“And strawberry-rhubarb.”

“Now that sounds tasty.” Virginia nodded toward two chairs in the shade. “Shall we?”

Justine deferred and let the other women sit. Virginia wiped her dirty hands on her apron and sighed. “I was due to sit a spell. My knees aren’t as young as they used to be.”

Goosie laughed. “We can talk more about knees when you’re nearing ninety.”

“Ninety?” Virginia looked impressed. “I wouldn’t take you for a day over–”

“Eighty-five?”

They all laughed.

Virginia brushed dirt off her dress. “I agree that being thirty-four does not give me the right to complain about aches. And you didn’t come here to talk about them, either. To what do I owe the honor of this visit—though you don’t need a special reason.”

Justine looked at Goosie, wishing there was a subtle way to do it. “I have some interesting news for you about your husband, Spencer.”

She froze a moment. “Spencer. Really?”

Justine decided to say it plain. “He’s in Lawrence.”

Goosie chimed in. “He returned a few years ago.”

Virginia leaned back in the chair and just sat there a few long moments. Then she sat upright. “Why hasn’t he come to check on me? Say hello? I’d like to know how he is. Wouldn’t you think he’d want to know about his own wife?”

I doubt he’s given you a second thought. “There’s something else you need to know about him.” But before Justine could say more she saw Eddie walking toward them, carrying a chair.

“Eddie, how sweet of you,” Virginia said.

He set the chair down and looked to Justine. “Sit a spell.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie began to leave, but Virginia stopped him. “Stay. Justine says Spencer is back.”

His eyebrows rose. He didn’t look pleased. “Is he coming to get you?”

How interesting that Eddie was worried about Spencer coming to get Virginia, yet Virginia had only mentioned a visit. “Actually, I don’t think you’ll see him at all.”

“Why not?” Virginia asked.

Justine looked to Goosie for support and received a nod. “Spencer lives in Lawrence under a new name and has a new appearance. He’s become someone else. His name is now Uriah Benedict.”

“I’ve heard of him!” Eddie said. “I’ve never met him but I’ve heard his name around town. He’s a big muck-a-muck. He’s friends with the mayor.”

There’s one more detail you need to know . . . “He’s married.”

Virginia’s face struggled with the news. “But he’s married to me.”

“Which makes him a bigamist.” Justine didn’t say more. It was Virginia’s crisis. She needed a moment to let it sink in.

Finally she spoke. “I’m happy for him.”

“Happy for him?” Justine could not have been more surprised if Virginia had danced a jig. “You’re not angry with him?”

Virginia shook her head. But then she peered into the canopy of branches above them. She stood. Then she looked to the ground and wrapped her arms around herself.

Eddie put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all right to be mad.”

Virginia nodded once. Then her forehead furrowed. She choked. She gulped a breath and released a sob. She collapsed to the ground with Eddie’s arms easing her way.

This was the reaction Justine had expected. “I’m so sorry to tell you all that.”

Virginia let herself be fully enfolded by Eddie’s embrace. She mumbled into his chest expelling eight years’ worth of pain and heartache: Left me . . . abandoned, afraid, confused . . . children . . . Cole . . . alone . . .

Goosie and Justine stood nearby, their arms linked, wishing they could help, and sorry to have caused the pain.

Then suddenly Virginia sat erect, letting Eddie’s arms fall away. “Help me up.”

Eddie did so, then handed her his handkerchief. She dried her eyes. She breathed in and out, still not seeing the here and now, but looking within toward an inner struggle.

The three onlookers felt helpless and unsure. They said nothing, just waited. Justine felt as though Virginia was at a crossroads. Choices were being made.

Finally her gaze turned to Eddie, then Justine and Goosie. “Thank you for telling me.”

Justine let out a puff of air. You’re welcome? “I’m sorry to be the one—”

“No, no,” Virginia said, “I am glad to know. They say the truth shall set you free.” She took a deep breath and smiled as if it was the freshest breath she had ever taken. “I am finally free.”

Free? Justine had never thought of that reaction.

Eddie touched her arm. “You’re free.”

The two exchanged a look that spoke volumes. And then they embraced, deeply and fully, finally at liberty to express their affection.

“Look at that,” Goosie whispered as she squeezed Justine’s arm.

It was mesmerizing to witness the love between them.

Virginia and Eddie finally released each other, but stood close, an arm around each other’s waists. “I can never repay you for telling me the truth, Justine.”

It was not the reaction she’d expected. “You’re welcome.”

“What are you going to do now?” Goosie asked.

Virginia smiled at Eddie. “For now I’m going to bask in the happiness that comes with having options. I’ve had so few choices in my life.”

Goosie nudged Justine and glanced toward the road.

Yes, yes, she was right. “We’ll leave you then,” Justine said.

Before they left, Virginia rushed toward her, encasing her in a hug. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

You just did.

 

**

 

Harland helped Goosie and Justine into the surrey, took his place on the seat, and drove away from Ravenwood. “So,” he said, “was your visit with Virginia dramatic?”

—“In a very unexpected way,” Justine said.

“Did you tell her that Spencer had moved back to Lawrence, had a wife, and had changed his name?”

“We did. And it made her happy,” Justine said.

Harland gawked. “That’s not a normal reaction.”

“The news made Eddie happy too,” Goosie said. “They embraced.”

“It’s clear they love each other,” Justine said.

Harland turned onto the county road leading home. “You saw an attraction the first time you met them. I didn’t see it, but you did.”

“And I was right. Virginia said she was finally free.”

Harland did a double-take. “Free from Spencer, as in she wants a divorce?”

“Perhaps,” Justine said. “Eventually. But I think the freedom she’s feeling involves being emotionally free of the hold Spencer had on her.”

Goosie nodded. “She’s lived with uncertainty for eight years. Finding out he’s moved allows her to move on.”

“That’s a happy result,” Harland said. “Unexpected and happy.”

Justine agreed. She hated to bring up another subject, but it had to be addressed. “Her happiness leaves me wondering what to do next. We know more about Spencer’s past. Considering her reaction to the Uriah-news, does she need to know that he was the man who shot her father?”

Neither Goosie nor Harland had an answer.

Justine continued. “I’m hesitant because she has this calm about her now. She has gone through so much loss and pain and she’s finally happy.”

“She was beaming,” Goosie said.

“I fear telling her such an awful truth will destroy that happiness, with little good to come from it.”

“Then why were you shown that truth?” Harland asked.

Despite wanting to avoid the telling, Justine knew what had to be done. “I have to tell her everything I find out.”

“I agree,” Goosie said. “But in that regard . . . perhaps we should have the two of them to dinner. Perhaps such hard truths can be told best in a homey setting.”

Harland nodded. “I have to go back to Ravenwood tomorrow. I could ask them then.” He looked at Justine. “Yes?”

She nodded.

“Wednesday then,” Goosie said.

It was as good a day as any.

 

**

 

Justine forced herself to sit on the porch swing. There’s nothing more to do right now. Relax.

She heard the front door open and Harland came out. “What are you doing?”

She made the swing rock up and back but its path was crooked. When she tried to right it, it swung wildly. “I’m relaxing. Can’t you tell?”

“Clearly. Can I come and not-relax with you?”

She stilled the swing with a toe to the porch. “Please do. I’m a flittering flurry.”

He sat beside her and gently pushed back. The swing submitted to his command. “See? You just have to be gentle with it.”

She tossed her hands in the air. “I’m so agitated I can’t even drive a porch swing.”

He took one of her hands and rested it upon his leg. “You need to stop driving your thoughts. Just let them sit for a while.”

She sighed. “I wish I could but I feel such a huge responsibility. I thought it revolved around Uriah and Virginia. But I’m the only one who’s upset about it. Why should I pursue this if it will only upset her? I’m not sure she will care if he is brought to justice.”

“I admire her peace.” He squeezed her hand. “Maybe some of it can rub off on you?”

She stood and faced him. “I’d love to feel peace and calm.” She pointed at the house. “I’d love to spend my days having tea with new friends, or help out at church, or learn how to cook or sew or knit, or assist you with patients, or become the Canasta champion of Kansas.”

His smile was understanding. “I am the Canasta champion of Kansas.”

“You can be overthrown.”

He laughed. “All those visits to the past . . . remember that’s not the woman you are. That’s not all the woman you are. For you can do all those everyday things.”

“And get justice against Uriah Benedict and right the wrongs of his past?”

“That too. In your spare time.” He drew her back to the swing and put his arm around her. “Yours is not an ordinary life, Jussie. Your life is meant to be extraordinary. It already is.”

She leaned against him and closed her eyes. “So what do I do next?”

“This,” he said, pulling her even closer. “Next, you do this.”

 

**

 

Justine managed to relax for thirty-five minutes. But then Harland needed to get back to his office. He asked her to join him and she’d been tempted. But during the last thirty seconds of her thirty-five minutes she got an idea.

“Not today,” she told him. “I’m going to bring some tea cakes over to the Benedicts today.”

“For what purpose?”

“I want to thank their cook and reinforce the story I told Uriah that I’d been at his house to get the recipe.”

“And while you’re there you can happen to see Caesar?”

“Maybe. Though mostly I will be there as a show for Uriah. As such I’m going to have to ignore Caesar, yet I can’t overly ignore him, and . . .” She sighed deeply.

“Or else Uriah will be suspicious of your non-interest?”

She began to doubt her plan. “It seemed more logical in my head.”

“It’s very logical,” he said, putting on his hat. “But Alva and Dorthea are home tomorrow. Why don’t you wait? Seeing Alva would be a good reason to visit.”

Perhaps. Yet the stirring in her stomach pushed her to go today

They kissed each other goodbye and Harland went back to his office. Justine gathered some teacakes in a basket and walked toward the Benedict’s. As she turned onto their street, she had the sudden thought that Uriah might not even be there, which would mean she might be able to speak with Caesar ag—

She stopped short when she saw two men carrying somebody out of the Benedict’s house by the feet and under their arms. The person was obviously hurt.

She hurried forward. It was Caesar!

Justine ran. “What happened? Is he going to be okay?”

But even before she received an answer, she saw the mass of blood on his head. Saw his arm hang oddly as though broken.

“He’s gone, miss. I’m sorry.” They put Caesar into the back of a wagon.

Gone. Dead? Caesar was dead. Caesar, her friend, her source, her—

Two other men came out of the house. One was Uriah. One, carried a medical bag like Harland’s.

She ran up the steps. “What happened to him?”

The doctor ignored her and said a quick goodbye before leaving Justine with Uriah. “Come in, Miss Braden.”

She went inside and saw a pool of blood at the foot of the stairs.

“As you see, our dear Caesar suffered a tragic fall.”

She looked at the blood, then at Uriah. There was a slight smirk in his eyes and she wanted to yell, he didn’t fall! You pushed him!

“You brought tea cakes,” he said. “How nice.”

She’d forgotten the basket of sweets but quickly composed herself. “For Mrs. Russo. As a thank you for the recipe.”

He took the basket from her and put a hand on her back, turning her toward the door. “I will make sure she gets them.”

She pushed against his hand, not ready to leave. “How did he fall? He was an able man. Able men—”

“Die all the time.” He had the audacity to shrug. He applied a look of consternation that did not fool Justine. “Alas, I will miss him.”

“Alas, you will miss him? That’s all you can say? After he’s been with you for decades?”

His expression changed. His jaw tightened. “How do you know how long he’s worked for me?”

Her throat tightened and she spun on her heels toward the door of her own accord. She had one more thing to say to him. “He was a good man.”

She was on the sidewalk to the street when she heard his parting words. “Good men often die, Miss Braden. Often.”

Shivers coursed up her back as she hurried away.

 

**

 

“Uriah killed him,” Justine told Harland. “Because of me.”

Harland showed Justine to a chair in his office. “We don’t know that.”

She gave him a look.

“We can’t prove that.”

Justine had thought about it on her walk to his office. “Perhaps I can prove it. Perhaps I’m the only one who can.”

He peered out the window, then at her. “You want to go back into Caesar’s life?”

“We have to catch Uriah in the act.”

“Even if you see him do it in the past, you can’t change anything. You’re only there to observe.”

Justine hated this limitation. “But if I see who else saw Caesar be pushed, then maybe I could get them to turn Uriah in. It’s not a coincidence he killed Caesar while Alva was out of town.”

Harland scoffed. “The only person who might have seen what happened would be a servant and they aren’t going to tell and risk losing their job—or worse.”

She sighed, fully frustrated. “The police won’t investigate. They’ll take Uriah at his word.”

“You’re right.”

She burst from the chair and began pacing. “I don’t want to be right! Caesar cared about Alva and worried for her safety. That’s why he was telling me about Uriah’s past.” She remembered their conversation at the stables. “Caesar had many regrets about his life, about staying with Uriah.”

Harland strolled to his office window and watched a wagon drive by. Then he turned toward her. “Maybe you can’t prove Uriah killed him, but maybe Caesar’s headstone will provide a way for you to go back and see details about Uriah’s other crimes.”

“Beyond the raid and Virginia’s commitment?”

“He’s had four names. Caesar mentioned a bank robbery, right?”

“I don’t want to be a witness to that. He mentioned the Younger gang and Jesse James.” She shuddered to think about being around such awful men.

“Maybe you wouldn’t go back to that,” he said. “Your trips have involved someone you know, namely Virginia. Although I can’t predict what God has in mind, He seems to send you to events that are more personal.”

His words made her feel more at ease about the prospect of another trip. “I guess I’ll try to go after Caesar’s funeral. He can’t talk to me in this time, but maybe he can talk to me in past times.” She felt tears threaten. “But one fact remains.”

“What’s that?”

“If Caesar hadn’t talked to me, he’d still be alive.”

Harland pulled her into his arms and she let herself cry.