The Widows of Braxton County Page 14

  Her thoughts drifted to Joe. She’d had no contact with him since their last appointment with Dr. Mike. No phone calls, no text messages, nothing but silence. Was he ashamed of the way he’d broken down after admitting to the violence he’d witnessed as a child? She hoped that wasn’t the case. If anything, it made him more of a man in her eyes.

  Her cell phone rang. Joe. He wasn’t avoiding her after all.

  She hit the Answer button. “Hi, Joe.”

  “Kate,” he said without preamble, “I saw Dr. Mike again after our last appointment . . .” His voice trailed away.

  She was stunned. “And?”

  “And we had a long talk about why I get angry and what I can do about it. Well . . . I . . .” He cleared his throat. “I wanted you to know that I’m not going to press you about moving home again. Dr. Mike helped me see that I need to work some things out before I can ask that of you. I think it’s good if you stay with Rose for now. Ah, I do have one question.”

  She heard him draw a deep breath.

  “After all that’s happened, do you still love me?” he asked quietly.

  Kate hesitated. Did she? She knew the man underneath all the anger was worth saving, and that was the man she loved. But Joe needed to find that part of himself on his own. She couldn’t do it for him.

  “Yes, I do,” she finally said, “but I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

  “That’s okay.” His voice sounded relieved. “I understand. I’m not the man you need right now, but I’m going to work very hard to become him. Dr. Mike’s given me a prescription for antidepressants and I’m taking them. Ma and I also need to fix some things about our relationship.”

  He’d shocked her again. “You’re going to persuade Trudy to go to counseling with you?”

  A warm laugh sounded in her ear. “Come on, we’re talking about my mother. She’s not going to change, but I can.”

  “If it’s important to you, I know you can do it.”

  “It is. Dr. Mike helped me see that growing up, it was always me and Ma against a common enemy.”

  “Your father.”

  “Yeah, and I’ve always felt guilty that I couldn’t protect her, but I was a kid. It wasn’t my job to keep her safe.”

  “Maybe your mother felt she had to stay with him. Maybe she thought she had no other choice.”

  “You might be right but, damn it, Kate,” he said, his frustration apparent, “I grew up feeling like I owed her. That somehow I had to make it up to her for all the beatings he gave her.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Get her into her own place.”

  “Do you think she’ll agree?”

  “It might take some talking, but I think she’ll come around. We’d both be happier. And with her out of here, I’ll have a better shot at working on my problems.”

  “Your plan sounds good, Joe.”

  “You think so?” His voice sounded excited, like a little kid’s. “If I carry through with all of this, do you think our marriage has a chance?”

  “I hope so. It’s what I want, too, Joe.”

  “God, Kate,” he exclaimed, “there’s so many things that I want to say to you, things that I should’ve said weeks ago. Is there any chance you’d agree to see me this afternoon? I swear, it’s just to talk.”

  “Where? It’s not a good idea to come here.”

  “Right,” he replied, then chuckled. “Rose standing over me with a shotgun makes me nervous. Could you come to the farm?”

  “I wouldn’t want to run into your mother.”

  “You wouldn’t have to. You could pull in the back drive and meet me in my office.” He paused. “Tell you what—if it doesn’t rain, we could have a picnic in the apple orchard.”

  Kate thought for a moment. She didn’t know if she felt comfortable being alone with him, or that Trudy wouldn’t spot them and confront her.

  Joe caught her hesitancy and broke in before she could answer. “I don’t blame you for saying no.” He sounded disheartened. “I haven’t given you any reason to trust me. Maybe we can do it some other time.”

  “A picnic sounds fine. When do you want me to meet you?”

  “You’ll come?”

  “Yes, I’ll come.”

  “I’ve got to take care of some business first so would one o’clock work?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, Kate . . . I love you and I’m going to prove it. See you then,” he said, ending the conversation.

  Kate stared at the now-silent cell phone in her hand. “I hope this isn’t a mistake,” she muttered to herself.

  “What’s a mistake?” Rose asked, suddenly standing next to her.

  “I didn’t see you. Did you hear my side of the conversation?”

  “No. I noticed you were on the phone and didn’t step out until I saw you were finished.” She pointed to the phone. “Was it something important?”

  Kate placed the phone on the porch railing and ran her fingers through her hair. “It was Joe. I’m meeting him at the farm this afternoon.”

  Rose touched her arm, alarm written on her face. “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate tilted her head back and sighed. “He had an appointment with Dr. Mike—”

  “He went without any prodding?”

  “Yeah,” Kate replied, facing Rose. “He’s also started on antidepressants.”

  “That’s a good sign.”

  “I thought so, too, and here’s the real zinger—he intends to move Trudy out.”

  “Humph, that’ll be the day,” Rose snorted.

  Kate shook her head. “I don’t know. He sounded pretty determined. He sounded like the man I fell in love with.”

  “Do you think he’s trying to manipulate you into coming back to him?”

  “Maybe I’m being stupid, but I don’t think that’s the case. In fact, he’s promised not to force the issue and even said it’s good that I’m staying here.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Yeah . . . yeah, I do.”

  “For your sake, I hope it works.” She looked thoughtful. “I guess for his sake, too. When he was a boy, he always struck me as different from the rest of them. He always seemed kinder, more sensitive than his grandfather or his father.”

  “So you think this is a good idea?”

  “I guess you’ll find out.” Rose brushed a strand of hair away from Kate’s face. “Just be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  Kate decided to leave for Joe’s early so she could stop by the office and finish the billing. She parked in the rear lot and slipped in the back door. Able to work uninterrupted, it didn’t take her long to complete the last of the bills. In a way, she wished it had taken more time. As the minutes ticked by, her nerves accelerated. So much had happened and so much had changed since she’d first come to Braxton County. She sighed. One thing hadn’t changed: she still loved her husband.

  Kate shut off her computer and straightened the papers on her desk. It was only a quarter after twelve. Catching up on the billing didn’t take as long as she’d expected. If she left now, she’d be too early and there’d be a greater chance of running into Trudy.

  For the next thirty minutes, she futzed around the office. She watered the plants, dumped the wastebaskets, and dusted off her shelves. Finally, she realized that she’d wasted enough time and headed out the door. Looking up, she noticed the sky had darkened. The storm that had threatened all morning was moving in. No picnic in the apple orchard today. She hoped Joe had a Plan B.

  A few minutes later, Kate pulled in the back driveway by Joe’s office and saw his pickup. After parking behind it, she got out and glanced up as thunder sounded in the distance. Not wanting to get caught in a sudden downpour, she hurried into the building.

  “Hey, Joe,” she called out as she came through the door. “I don’t think we’re going on a—”

  The room was empty and the lights were on. She crossed over t
o his desk. His computer was on, too. Strange. Joe usually didn’t go off and leave it running. She picked through the papers on his desk, checking for a note indicating where he’d gone. Nothing, then a paper with an envelope attached to it caught her eye. Kate picked it up and started reading.

  It was a lawsuit naming the plaintiff as Joseph J. Krause and the defendant as Edward A. Rodman. Rodman? The name sounded familiar, then Kate remembered. He was the farmer whose fence line encroached on Krause land. A notation on the document stated when the papers had been filed at the clerk of court’s office. Joe was carrying out his threat and suing him. She wondered if the business Joe had mentioned this morning had anything to do with this lawsuit. She looked at the envelope. It was addressed to Ed.

  A flash of fear overcome her. Had Ed showed up with his letter and confronted Joe? After the last meeting Joe had with Ed Rodman, he’d struck her. Her attention darted to the door. She should leave.

  She had taken a step toward the door when a rustling sound came from over by the filing cabinet. Rats? Kate moved another step away from the desk. Then she heard a pitiful mewling. Rats didn’t sound like that. Cautiously, she rounded the desk.

  An animal carrier sat next to the cabinet, and Kate watched as a tiny yellow paw with soft pink pads came out from between the bars. She went to the carrier and crouched down. Two amber eyes peered back at her. The carrier held a kitten with a big red bow attached to its collar.

  As Kate watched, the kitten began twisting its head back and forth while tiny white teeth tried to gain purchase on the red bow. It was so intent on getting at the bow that it lost its balance and tumbled over. Not giving up, the kitten continued its wrestling match, rolling from side to side.

  Kate laughed. “Poor thing. You really don’t like that bow.”

  After unlatching the door, she scooped up the kitten, and holding it close, removed the bow. Then she saw the note attached to the ribbon.

  “Hi, Kate. My name is Topaz.”

  Joe had got her a cat. She clutched the kitten gently to her chest and rubbed her chin on its head. The kitten began to purr and snuggled closer to Kate’s body.

  Touched and amazed by his thoughtfulness, Kate prayed Rose liked cats. She wanted to thank him for his gift. Where is Joe?

  She grabbed her cell phone and quickly dialed his number. “Country Boy,” Joe’s ring tone, sounded from the top of the desk. He went off without it. Another oddity. He usually had it clipped to his belt. He had to be returning soon.

  For the next twenty minutes, she amused herself by playing with her new pet, then she began to worry. Should she go or should she stay?

  A boom of thunder made her decision for her. The storm was getting closer and she needed to leave before it hit. Kate placed the kitten in the carrier, securely fastening the door. With the carrier in hand, she swiftly crossed the room but paused at the window. Too late. The rain came pouring down, pinging against the metal roof and sheeting across the windows. Wind rattled against the door while lightning flashed.

  Kate watched the branches of the apples trees whip back and forth until a bright flash made her draw back, away from the window. She rubbed her eyes. Right before the burst of light, she thought she had seen a shape standing under one of the old trees. Drawing closer to the window, she peered out. Whatever had been there was gone now.

  The lights flickered twice, then went out. Kate stood in the darkened building, clutching the cat carrier while a shiver prickled the hair on the back of her neck. This was a bad idea.

  Her cell phone rang and showed Rose’s name on the display.

  “Hello,” she answered quickly.

  “Kate,” Rose exclaimed, “where are you?”

  Kate could barely hear her above the raging storm. “I’m still at the farm,” she said loudly.

  There was no response.

  “Rose? Rose? Are you there?” The phone crackled in her ear.

  “ . . . hospital . . . Joe . . .”

  Kate felt a rush of panic. “What? You’re breaking up.”

  “I said Joe’s in the hospital in Flint Rapids.”

  Kate ended the call and rushed into the storm.

  As Kate drove into the parking lot of the hospital, she spotted Trudy’s car. She pulled up next to it, parked, then ran through the rain to the entrance for the emergency room. Once inside, she tore up to the counter, her loafers squishing across the floor. Wiping the rainwater out of her eyes, she searched for someone to help.

  “Excuse me,” she said, taking the arm of the first nurse she found. “I’m Kate Krause. Is my husband, Joe, here?”

  “This way,” she replied, motioning for Kate to follow.

  The nurse led Kate down the long hallway, then stopped in front of a door marked Family Waiting Room.

  “In here,” she said gently as she opened the door.

  As Kate stepped inside, the faces turned toward her. Trudy sat on a couch with a handkerchief held tightly to her mouth while a man dressed in a sheriff’s uniform knelt before her. Another man, also in a uniform, stood next to them. The man standing stepped forward.

  “You must be Kate?”

  She nodded, her eyes traveling from one face to the next.

  “Why don’t you take a seat, Kate? I’m Sheriff Tom Shaw and this is Detective Mark Shepherd.”

  “Joe?”

  “I’m sorry, Kate. Joe passed away.”

  At the sheriff’s words, Trudy bent at the waist and sobbed into the handkerchief. A sense of unreality settled over Kate and she sank into the nearest chair. The sheriff sat in the chair next to hers.

  “Kate, do you understand what I said?”

  “Yes,” she answered in a monotone. “My husband’s dead.”

  The sheriff and the detective exchanged a look.

  “We’ve been trying to reach you. Can you tell us where you’ve been?”

  “The farm.”

  “We understand that you and Joe are separated?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Why did you go to the farm?”

  “Joe wanted to talk.”

  “Was he there when you arrived?”

  Kate shook her head. “I—I didn’t see him.” She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I saw the kitten.” Lifting her face, she stared at the sheriff with stricken eyes. “The kitten!” she cried and shot to her feet.

  Spots danced in the corners of her vision and her eyes rolled back. Her knees gave way as the blackness folded in on her.

  Chapter 24

  Summer 1890, the Krause homestead

  A low early-morning mist drifted over the fields while the rising sun colored the sky with threads of pink and gold. The damp clung to the hem of Hannah’s black cotton dress. Unconsciously, she smoothed the gathers at her waist as she watched the sun rise. Thank God Ida had thought to bring her two day dresses for her mourning. Without them, she would have been forced to wear the silk dress that she had worn two days ago at Jacob’s funeral. Life on a farm doesn’t stop because the master is dead. The silk dress wouldn’t have withstood Hannah’s chores.

  At least she wasn’t expected to wear the heavy crepe veil. A small smile played across her face as the ridiculous image of gathering eggs while encased in the veil came to mind. The frightening sight would have been enough to make the chickens quit laying. She let out a long, steady breath. The stench of the dyed veil had clogged her nose and throat during the funeral. She’d gladly stay out of the public eye for the next year if it meant never wearing it again.

  A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her thoughts. Glimpsing Ida out of the corner of her eye, she reached up and clasped her sister’s hand. In their teens, they’d been the lovely Dunlap sisters, but Hannah knew the years hadn’t been as kind to her as they had Ida. Only eighteen months separated them, but she now looked at least five years older than her elder sister.

  “Are you upset about the article in The Braxton County Journal?” Ida asked with a slight squeeze.

  Hannah stepped
away with a slight shrug. Louis had brought home a copy yesterday, and though Ida had insisted she not read it, she had. Fannie had been right about Harry Rosenthal. The article was peppered with his quotes. He’d started out by stating what a heavy duty it had been for him to sit at the inquest investigating the death of such a dear friend, then continued to almost deify Jacob. He’d ended by promising that the community would not rest until this heinous crime was solved.

  “Harry sounded like he would be the one to solve Jacob’s murder.”

  Ida gave an unladylike snort. “I imagine Sheriff Winter would have something to say about that, and he wasn’t quoted.” She eyed Hannah. “How do you feel about the way the article portrayed you?”

  “A lot of half-truths and misrepresentations.” Hannah rubbed her temple. “Their veiled references to our ‘problems’ were correct, but I’ve never been involved in the Women’s Christian Temperance Union or the National Women’s Suffrage Association. Jacob wouldn’t allow it.”

  Ida’s lips twisted in a frown. “They insinuated that you weren’t a proper wife.”

  “The neighbors have been saying that for years,” Hannah replied, her tone short.

  Ida settled her hands on her hips. “Humph. They were one step away from declaring that Jacob’s treatment of you was justified.”

  “I can’t help what they write.”

  “Well, it’s not fair,” Ida shot back with a toss of her head.

  Hannah twirled to face her sister. “What is fair?”

  “Stop,” Ida said, holding up her hand. “You may not have been involved with those organizations, but I know you agree with some of their principles.”

  “And you don’t.”

  “A woman’s sphere is in the home,” Ida replied with a sniff.

  Hannah stifled a groan. Ida might claim to believe that, but her life said differently. Thanks to a childless marriage, she’d always been involved in Louis’s mercantile business. She had a voice that so many women didn’t.

  “At least no one repeated my remark to Joseph,” she said in a grim voice.

  “That was unwise.”

  Hannah looked to the horizon. “I know, but when he brought up separating me from Willie, my tongue ran away with me.”