She stopped stitching. Her eyes remained downcast. The needle moved on.
“I’ve always had feelings for you, Robert.”
“Then would you...” He reached over and covered her right hand to stop it. “Would you look at me, Addie?”
She wouldn’t. He waited several seconds, but she wouldn’t. He left his chair, removing the work from her hands, placing it on the table before going down on one knee beside her chair. He took both her hands and looked up at her beautiful, pale face.
“Addie, I came here today to tell you I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t true.”
She lifted her beloved green eyes. They were brimming.
“You do?”
“Yes. And I want to marry you.”
She swallowed once, trying very hard to hold her tears in check. “Oh Robert,” she whispered, “what took you so long?”
Their reunion was swift and fierce. He caught her hard against him, so hard the impact sent her tears spilling. Her arms doubled around his neck and for a moment they merely clung, their eyes closed, his bearded cheek pressed against her pale jaw. At length he drew back and lifted his face to kiss her, kneeling yet with his trousers lost in the folds of her white apron. She held his face in both her hands, forgetting she still wore the thimble on one of them. What a long, long, long-awaited kiss, flavored of coffee and geranium vegetal, open and wet and tempered by all those years, and all that history that had brought them to this moment of truth. When the kiss ended he laid his face against her apron bib and breathed, “Oh Addie, I love you so much. I’ve been so miserable these last three weeks.”
“So have I.” She continued caressing the back of his head, his neck, his shoulders, while he pressed kisses wherever his lips touched her starched clothing. “I thought I’d have to marry him to finally get you to realize you loved me.”
“You’ve known it?” He drew back to see her eyes.
She nodded, stroking his hair back from his temples, the expression in her eyes loving and uncomplicated for one of the first times in their fives. “For quite some time.”
“Noah gave me a good talking-to yesterday. He told me I was going to lose you if I didn’t pull my head out of the sand.”
“Hooray for Noah,” she replied softly.
They kissed once more, Robert still kneeling while Addie’s palms covered his silken beard. They tasted each other shallow and deep, letting time drift by unheeded. When the kiss ended he remained for a while with his forehead against her chin, her left hand softly skimming his shoulders while he held her right and discovered the thimble still on it.
He sat back and looked down at it, fitting and refitting the thimble on the tip of her finger.
Finally he looked up into her eyes. “You haven’t said you love me.”
“But I do.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Oh Robert, in all my life I’ve never loved another man but you.”
“Then you’ll marry me?”
“Of course.”
“Even though Birtle Matheson will have to perform the ceremony?”
“Even though.”
“He won’t like it.”
“He knew all along how I felt about you. I told him the very first day he took me out walking that I loved you.”
“You did?”
She nodded, lifting one hand to sculpt the hair above his right ear, following its contour with her fingertips while his face was lifted to receive the love in her gaze.
“We’ve come through some hell to get here, haven’t we, Addie?”
“That’s all over now.” She kissed him as if to promise only heaven ahead, leaning down and slanting her mouth over his, running her palms over the scratchy new wool covering his back. He rose, drawing her to her feet, fitting their hips together and holding her close while his head tipped and their open mouths joined. He made a sound, throaty and passionate, an ode to the end of their separateness while he locked her ever tighter to his mouth and body.
The thimble dropped to the floor. Ruler shot out from beside the stove and batted it against a chair leg while above her the man and woman went on kissing. On and on the thimble rolled—across the bare floor, against a mop board, across the floor again—creating the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.
In time Robert lifted his head. His face was flushed and his breath sketchy. He touched Addie’s face—as flushed as his own—and, looking into one another’s eyes, they laughed.
In joy.
And wonder.
And relief.
“Won’t we have some stories to tell our grandchildren?”
“Robert, you wouldn’t.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t. But it would be a convenient threat to keep you in line with,”
“You won’t need to keep me in line. I’m in it and I’m staying.”
“We should tell Noah and Sarah.”
“They’ll hardly be surprised.”
“Did everybody in this town know how I felt before I did?”
“Just about.”
“Should we tell them tonight?”
“Let’s. I’m trying not to ruin an elk roast. Why don’t you run and find Noah and ask him if he can come up here for supper and we’ll tell them then.”
He beamed, happier than he had ever imagined being.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”
CHAPTER
20
Robert brought champagne, which was plentiful, given the number of saloons and the amount of wealth in town. Addie’s elk roast turned out passably good, accompanied by roast potatoes and carrots and surprisingly light cornbread. The mood around the supper table was festive even before the announcement was made. The foursome had spent many hours together before Robert and Addie’s rift, making the reunion in itself cause for celebration.
When their plates were full and the meal in progress, Robert refilled their glasses and lifted his own in one hand while capturing Addie’s hand on the corner of the table.
“Addie and I have an announcement to make, though it may not come as much of a surprise to either one of you. But we wanted you to be the first to know...” His eyes lit on Addie and stayed.
“We’re going to he married,” she finished.
Sarah and Noah spoke at once.
“Oh Addie... Robert... this is wonderful!”
“Well, it’s about time!”
“Congratulations! I couldn’t be happier.” Sarah rose and circled the table to hug them both.
Noah followed suit. “The same goes for me. I spread it on a little thick yesterday, Robert. I figured I’d either lose a good friend or shock some sense into your head. So when’s the big day?”
“When is the big day?” Robert asked Addie. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet. We just decided three hours ago.”
“Soon.” Addie smiled. “I hope.”
“So do I,” Robert seconded.
Sarah said, “You’re going to be married in the church, I suppose.”
“Yes.”
“By Matheson?” Noah asked.
“He’s the minister,” Robert replied.
“Well, I propose a toast.” Noah lifted his glass. “To Robert and Addie, who absolutely belong together if ever two people did. May your wedding day be sunny and your lives be the same.”
They had a lot to talk about—two weddings, two homes, four futures which would be inexorably entwined, to the delight of all. They discussed dates and celebrations and the disposition of the house in which they presently dined, deciding it would work out beautifully for Robert and Addie to be married the week following Sarah and Noah’s wedding and make this their home after Sarah moved out.
They laughed about Robert’s stubbornness, and how long it had taken him to pop the question to Addie. They speculated on what Birtle Matheson’s reaction would be when asked to perform the service for the girl he’d been sparking. They even talked about Rose’s—all of t
hem felt it was a healthy sign they could do so—and the possibility of inviting some of her girls to Addie’s wedding. Wouldn’t all those doves have stars in their eyes? Wouldn’t Mrs. Roundtree have venom in hers?
Their meal was long finished, the dishes removed to the dry sink, awaiting washing, and the four of them were still lolling at the table sharing lazy and pleasant conversation, winding the evening down. Robert leaned forward, half-sprawling on the table, his jaw propped on the butt of one hand, comfortable and relaxed with his friends. He turned his glass round and round with his fingertips, watching it catch the tablecloth and drag it into a pinwheel.
“What you said is true, Noah. I can’t think of another couple who belong together the way Addie and I do. We’ve been through it all and put it all behind us—her running away, her working at Rose’s, what her father did to her—what could be tougher to face than all that? But we did it, and the way I see it, after overcoming all those hurdles, marriage will be a breeze.”
Into the silence that followed, Sarah spoke with an edge to her voice. “What her father did to her?”
Robert gave up his preoccupation with the glass and lifted his head off his hand. Addie was making surreptitious shushing motions, a horror-stricken expression on her face. He straightened slowly.
“What did her father do to her?” Sarah asked Robert.
He glanced from one sister to the other. “Doesn’t she know?”
Addie’s face had gone ashen. “Let’s just forget it, Robert.”
“Know what?” Sarah’s glance darted between her sister and Robert.
“Nothing,” Addie said, reaching for her dirty cup and saucer and jumping to her feet.
“Addie, sit down,” Sarah ordered quietly.
“The dishes are getting all dried on.”
“Addie, sit down.”
Noah sat unmoving, wondering what the hell this was all about.
Addie returned to her chair, set down the cup and saucer and fixed her eyes on them.
“Would you care to explain?”
Addie said, “This is something between Robert and me. He shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“But he did. Now I want to know what it’s all about. What did Father do to you?”
Addie’s eyes grew glittery. She banged a fist on the table, making the cup and saucer dance. “Robert, damn you! You had no right!”
“Addie, I’m sorry. I assumed you told her a long time ago, right after you told me. Why, hell, if she doesn’t know, how could Noah have found out?”
Noah spoke up. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do. You alluded to it one night when you told me you were going to marry Sarah, remember?”
“No, I don’t, Robert, I’m sorry.”
“You told Noah?” Addie cried, aghast.
“No, I didn’t tell Noah. I thought he knew! I thought Sarah had told him. We were talking about you women, that’s all.”
“Enough of this!” Sarah put in. “I want to know what it was Father did to you that’s causing all this distress!”
Addie pinched her folded hands between her knees and dropped her eyes to the cup and saucer. “You don’t want to know,” she whispered.
“Robert?” Sarah snapped officiously.
Robert said quietly, “I can’t tell you. Addie has to.”
“Very well then, Addie.”
Addie continued staring at the tabletop with tears lining her eyelids. Noah sat with his arms crossed, an innocent observer.
“Will somebody tell me!” Sarah shouted, again banging a fist on the table.
A massive silence followed.
After several seconds Robert’s contrite voice broke it. “This is my fault, Sarah. I’m really sorry. Please, just let it ride.”
“I cannot any more than you could if it were your father being discussed in such dire tones. Now what did he do?”
Robert reached over and squeezed Addie’s shoulder. “Tell her, Addie. Tell her and be done with it.”
Noah began to rise. “If you’ll excuse me, this seems like a family matter.”
Addie caught his arm. “No, stay. If we’re all going to be related you might as well hear it, too.”
Noah glanced at the faces around the table—Sarah’s, looking pinched with displeasure as she stared at Addie; Robert’s, looking penitent and concerned for his fianceé; Addie’s, looking sad while asking him to remain. He sank back to his chair.
Addie rested her forearms on the table and wrapped both hands around her empty cup. There was a silvery track from a tear on her right cheek, but she was no longer crying. She appeared outwardly calm, resigned, studying the cup. “When Mother ran away, Father forced me to take her place... in bed.”
Robert laid a hand on Addie’s wrist and stroked it with his thumb.
Noah spread a hand over the bottom half of his face and gripped the hollows of his cheeks.
Sarah gaped at her sister.
“I don’t believe you!” she whispered at last.
Addie met her eyes for the first time. “I’m sorry, Sarah. It’s true.”
“But... but you were only three years old!”
“That’s right,” Addie said sadly. “I was only three years old. And then I was four, then five and ten and eleven and twelve. And when I was sixteen I knew I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I ran.”
“But our father was a good, wholesome, God-fearing man. He wouldn’t do such a heinous thing.”
“He was a good, wholesome, God-fearing man around you, but he had two sides, Sarah. You only saw the one he wanted you to see.”
Sarah shook her head, her eyes wide with shock. “No. I’d have known, I’d have... you’d have...”
“Given it away somehow? He made me promise not to at first and later I was too ashamed to.”
“But how could he...” Sarah’s lips hung open. She seemed to be silently begging for help.
“He pretended he wasjust comforting me because I missed Mother so much. He said it was our little secret and I must not tell anyone. He made you believe he was moving me into a room of my own because I was wetting the bed, but the real reason was so he could slip into my room without being suspected. Why do you think he never let Mrs. Smith live in with us? She would have—”
“No!” Sarah screamed, leaping to her feet. “I won’t listen to any more! You’re lying!” Tears rained down her face. Her eyes were wide, her face blanched. “Father wouldn’t do such a thing! He loved us and took care of us! You’re... you’re defaming him and he’s not here to defend himself!” She was sobbing as she ran from the room up the stairs.
“Sarah!” Noah ran after her, taking the steps two at a time, ignoring the fact that he was trailing her to her bedroom. He followed the sound of her weeping and found her in a room to the left. She had thrown herself across the bed in the dark.
“Sarah,” he said gently, sitting down beside her.
“Get away!” Twisted at the waist, she struck back at him blindly. “Don’t touch me!”
“Sarah, I’m sorry...” He found her shoulder and tried to turn her over so he could take her in his arms.
“Don’t touch me, I said! Don’t you ever touch me again!” she screamed. He withdrew his hand while she sobbed into the mattress and made the entire bed tremble. He remained awhile, uncertain, aching for her, wanting to hold her and help her through this ordeal.
“Sarah, please... let me help you.”
“I don’t want your h-help. I don’t w-want anything. Just leave me alone!”
He rose and stood looking down at her dim form while she wailed and sobbed by turns. He went and stood by a window, looking out at the night, feeling bereft and helpless and shocked himself. Her father, sweet Jesus, her father. The man she’d patterned her entire life after, the man she quoted and imitated and adulated. He’d been more than a parent to her, he’d been her mentor and emancipator as well. Not only had she learned his trade, she had adopted his strict c
ode of morality in that trade—she thought.
My God, how devastated she must be.
He thought of Addie, below. Poor, beautiful, abused, un-bright Addie, who had carried that knowledge all these years and protected her sister from it. She had run from a father into a life of degradation and he, Noah, had been one of the men who’d compounded her self-abasement. What should he say to Addie when he went downstairs?
And to Robert, who unwittingly had uncovered this nest of maggots? Robert was a man who would not knowingly hurt a soul.
Noah wanted to remain here in the dark until harmony had been restored and the sorrow in this house had been eased, but what kind of friend hides in times of need?
Sarah’s keening had become high and grieved and had begun a queer, resonant quaking in his stomach.
He tried again. “Sarah,” he said, returning to the bed, sitting beside her and touching her heaving back. “Sarah, what he was to you can never be changed.”
She shot up, swinging on him, screaming, “He was my father, don’t you understand! He was my father and he was a liar and a filthy hypocrite! An animal!”
He didn’t know what to say, so he sat on the bed and tried to put his arms around her.
“Get out!” she screamed. “Le... ea... eavvve... meeeee allllooooone!”
Her vehemence abashed and terrified him. He withdrew and stood uncertainly beside the bed while she sat on the edge of it with her entire body drooping and her frame convulsed by great heaving sobs.
“All right, Sarah. I’ll leave. But I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you’re feeling. Would that be all right?”
His only answer was her continued weeping.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She remained as before, drooped and crying as he left the room.
Downstairs, Addie was huddled in Robert’s arms near the dry sink with the dishes forgotten beside them. A dish towel was slung over Robert’s shoulder as the two exchanged murmured conversation. When Noah entered the kitchen they turned to watch him cross the room but remained linked with their hands upon one another, as if afraid to break apart.
Noah stopped near them and the three stood in a tangled silence.
“She’s in a bad state,” he said quietly.