Ahead of her now was a big screen with vividly colored warriors using medieval weapons to hack at one another. One split the other in half with an ax, sending splashes of neon-red blood in a shower. Repulsed, Sierra looked away and kept walking. At least she knew where she was now. Beyond Tomorrow was down two aisles to the right.
Alex was talking with two men in business suits, while Elizabeth Longford, Beyond Tomorrow’s hotshot merchandising director, stood alongside him with a clipboard. The young woman was dressed in a designer suit of deep green. It fitted her slender body like a glove. No sign of a single wrinkle or crease, even after a full day of standing on the floor and talking to sales reps. Elizabeth’s long blonde hair was permed into kinked tendrils that tumbled down her back.
Sierra had only met Elizabeth a few times and found her cool and remote. She was very attractive, professional, and ambitious. Sierra felt uneasy around her, even more so when she saw Alex talking with her so easily.
“Yes, she’s young,” Audra said that evening at a party. Sierra stood beside her near the hors d’oeuvres, sipping champagne. “She just turned twenty-six a few weeks ago.”
Alex and Steve stood not far away talking business to several sales reps, who seemed more interested in admiring Elizabeth in her sleek low-cut black gown. The simple, elegant design bespoke money. Lots of it.
“She graduated from Wellesley,” Audra said, setting her champagne down so she could put caviar on a small circle of melba toast. “She took her master’s in marketing at Columbia.” Sierra watched the younger woman move out onto the dance floor with one of the reps. Elizabeth’s graceful undulations were in stark contrast to the enthusiastic gyrations of her partner.
“She’s very lovely,” Sierra said, noticing how Alex and Steve were both watching her.
“Indeed,” Audra said enigmatically. “She knows how to present herself. She went to finishing school in Switzerland and was a debutante.” She took up her glass of champagne again. “I asked her about it, but she disdains the whole thing. Family pressure. Understandable.” She ate the cracker delicately. “Her father is a descendant of one of the crew of the Mayflower.” She looked at Sierra. “She works very closely with Alex.”
Somehow, Audra’s words held warning. They planted doubt and fear.
“Do you like Elizabeth?” Sierra asked Alex later in their hotel room.
“She’s good at her job,” he said, loosening his tie.
Hanging up his suit jacket, Sierra waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, she looked back at him standing near the windows overlooking the lights of Las Vegas. He was so handsome, her heart ached. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to him? He pulled his shirt free of his suit trousers and unbuttoned his collar.
Sierra’s stomach fluttered. How long since they’d come together in passionate need for one another? How long since he’d held her and kissed her and said he loved her? She loved him so much. She needed him. Yet he seemed so distant, so distracted. Whatever thoughts were running through his mind clearly troubled him. Hadn’t things gone as well as expected tonight? Or was it something else?
Her throat ached. She wanted to say something but couldn’t trust her voice. They had been fighting so much lately, usually about the most trivial things. She wasn’t sure what Alex would do if she reached out to him. She wanted to be close to him again, the way they used to be when they could talk about anything, when just being together and touching one another had been heaven. Now it took all her courage to cross the room.
Brushing his hands away, she unbuttoned his shirt for him. “I love you, Alex.” He didn’t say anything. He didn’t touch her. But he didn’t turn away either. When she finished, she looked up at him. “I’ll never stop loving you.”
Frowning, he searched her eyes.
She couldn’t read his expression. Fear suddenly overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t even say why.
His eyes softened. Sighing, he cupped her face. “You’ve always driven me crazy, Sierra,” he said, his voice deep and rough as his fingers stroked her skin. He didn’t look happy about it.
“Te amo muchísimo,” she whispered.
He loosened her French braid. Combing his fingers into her hair, he kissed her.
Sighing in relief, she let the passion sweep through her.
Nothing has changed, not really, she told herself, wanting desperately to believe it.
It has been a long time since I wrote in this journal.
I have had little time to do anything over the past months except complete the work Aunt Martha prepares for me. I am not complaining. She says she has Great Expectations for me. When I do well, she is more pleased than I. While everyone else in this town seems to look upon me as Mary Magdalene still possessed of demons, Aunt Martha sees me as Pure Delight. It is beyond me why. I question everything she teaches me. She listens and makes no condemnations while others would not even give me the time of day.
Aunt Martha tells me I was God’s gift to her. She has never been married and therefore has never had children of her own. Now, she has two, me and Joshua.
Joshua is growing so quickly. Sometimes I am afraid. I can see Sally Mae in him. He has her blue eyes and gold hair. I see Papa, too. But it is the other things in him I see that disturb me. He has Papa’s hot temper and Sally Mae’s lust for life. I love Joshua so much. But I wonder what he will become.
Everyone in Galena thinks Joshua is my child. It is well they do. They think less of me, but treat him kindly. I think they do so for Aunt Martha’s sake. She is a Strong Force in this community. Everyone loves and respects her. She is the Gentlest of Ladies and given to Good Works. They tolerate me for her sake. They love Joshua for his own. He is beautiful like Sally Mae and as charming as Papa used to be. Aunt Martha said it was Papa’s charm and good looks that won Mama’s heart.
I am restless tonight. I dont know why. I have the oddest feeling something is going to happen. Whether good or bad, I do not know.
Thomas Atwood Houghton is what was about to happen. He is an old and dear friend of Aunt Martha’s who has come to visit. Everyone was a twitter when he came to church. He is very Well Known because he has Money and Land and Connections. Why he is here I am not certain. He told Aunt Martha he was in Galena on Business, but what kind of Business is Unclear.
I was a shock to him. He looked at me in the strangest way when first we met. Calf’s eyes, Aunt Martha said. She believes he is taken with me. She is very pleased, but I am filled with Misgivings.
Thomas is as kind as Aunt Martha. Joshua adores him. Everyone in Galena is taken with Thomas. I like Thomas also, but he has made it clear he is thinking in terms of Matrimony. He spoke to Aunt Martha about it and she spoke to me. Why he wants to marry me I do not know. There is not a young unmarried woman in this town who would not be delighted with the prospect of being Thomas Atwood Houghton’s wife. He is a contrary man to court a girl who aint interested.
I gathered my courage and asked him straight out what he was thinking. He said he did not want a simpering maid, but a girl who spoke her mind. I said Aunt Martha speaks her mind. He said Martha is his dearest and best friend. I said he would be wise to marry her. She is more suited to him and closer to his own age. He said it is a matter of love and not practicality.
It seems to me the harder I resist the more determined he is to make me his wife. So I am going to simper and sigh. Perhaps this will shake him loose.
The announcement of my betrothal to Thomas has changed my life completely. People speak to me now. They are even Polite. Some pretend to be friends. Elmira Standish insisted I come to her afternoon tea and visit with the ladies of the Women’s Society. Aunt Martha is a member. She has not gone to any meetings since I came to live with her, but she attended with me yesterday. I am thankful she did.
Several young ladies spoke with me now that I am considered acceptable company. Their mamas watched, but did not call them back. The girls were full of questions, not about Thomas, but about Joshua’s father. I co
uld feel my face go all hot. One girl said they heard my child’s papa was a mountain man who spent the winter at our homestead. Another heard he was a drummer. One girl said her mama was very Upset because I had charmed Thomas the same way Sally Mae Grayson had charmed poor Noah Carnegie. I asked about that.
Sally Mae is remembered. Her poor grandmama died before I got here. One girl said old Missus Grayson passed on to heaven just so she would never go through hell with Sally Mae again. I asked her meaning, and another said Sally Mae was the sort of girl who bewitched men that were her betters. She was looking straight at me when she said it and I got her meaning clear enough. Another said Sally Mae’s last beau was Noah, son of one of the elders in the church. He came confessing to Sally Mae’s grandmama about what they was doing on their Sunday rides together. The other girl glaring at me said you know what a girl like that will do to get a man. The other said Noah was a foolish boy and wanted to marry Sally Mae and make things right. I thought of poor Matthew making things right. But Noah had poor Missus Grayson come to his rescue. She sent Sally Mae packing. After she did, Missus Grayson did not come out of her house again. The doctor went to see her, and people asked after her. But it was clear to everyone that the poor woman pined away out of pure shame over having Sally Mae for a granddaughter. As for poor Noah, he finally came to his senses and realized what sort of girl Sally Mae was. When he did, he was so overcome with shame and grief, he stood up in church and confessed his sins to the entire congregation. That is how everyone in town came to know about everything.
One of them said she wondered if Sally Mae would ever come back to Galena after the Great Scandal she had caused. I held my tongue. My feelings were over large right then. I almost said Sally Mae had destroyed my family. But had I said it, they would have descended on me like a flock of crows pecking and wanting to know the gory details of how and why. If I answered, they would have spread the Terrible Truth all over town like manure on a field.
It is better for Joshua if everyone goes on thinking he is mine than to know he came out of Sally Mae Grayson.
Poor Matthew. I cry every time I think of him. I miss him something fierce. Just like I miss Mama. I wonder where he went after he burned Papa’s fields. I wonder if I will ever see him again. And if I did, what would he say to me about Joshua? Would he hate me the same way Papa does? I think he would. But that does not change my mind about what I did or why.
Aunt Martha says daily God is in control. If that is so, God has made a fine mess of things. Aunt Martha says there is a good reason for everything that happens. She says God has a Plan for everyone. I wanted to scream when she said it. Was it God’s plan that Mama die alone choking on her own blood? Was it God’s plan Papa turn into a drunk? Was it God’s plan Matthew marry Sally Mae who brought grief to everyone? Was it God’s plan Papa father a child on his son’s wife? And what of kind, loving, faithful Matthew? What did he do to deserve what he got? What good reason is there for any of the Terrible things that happened?
Aunt Martha does not know everything. I would be the last to tell her so. She is happy in her Ignorance. I hope Aunt Martha stays blind. I would not like for her to know about the dirtiness and meanness of life. I would rather die than have her know about the shame Papa brought upon us all. Aunt Martha’s Jesus heals the sick, raises the dead, and feeds the five thousand. Just like Mama’s Jesus. Let her hold to that fine fairy tale.
The Jesus I know stands by and does nothing. He dont save nobody or put out fires. He starts them. Maybe he is like the gods on Olympus that I have been reading about. They enjoy playing with people too. When they get tired of someone, they throw him away. Maybe that is what God did. He got tired of Mama and Sally Mae and Matthew and Papa. Maybe our Father who art in heaven is like those other gods. I couldn’t help thinking it would be better if Jesus just sat and watched the play unfold beneath him, but took no part in it, either good or bad.
And then sometimes I wonder if Jesus is just a man in a big black book.
I do not know anymore. I cannot bear to think about it much.
When I was a little girl and Mama and I picked flowers in the meadow, I thought God was there with us. I loved him and talked to him the way Mama taught me. I thought God was everywhere, even inside us. Mama always said it was so. And I believed her. I always believed everything Mama said.
I do not believe in anything now. It hurts less.
Chapter 9
“You’re going to have to get a job.” Alex’s dark eyes were grim.
“A job?” Sierra said, astonished. She hadn’t had a job since they got married. “Why?”
“Because the bills have been stacking up for the past six months, and I don’t see any other way around it.”
“You said we had more than enough money.”
“That was before you started having lunch at the club every day of the week. The bill last month alone was fourteen hundred dollars!” He tossed it onto the desk, where he’d been working on their accounts.
“Fourteen hundred dollars?” she said weakly, feeling the blood drain from her face.
Alex swore in Spanish. “Don’t you even bother to look at the slips you sign or keep track of what you’re spending?” he said in disgust.
Hand shaking, she picked up the bill and looked at it. Running her finger down the column, she saw she wasn’t entirely at fault. “Green fees and dinners account for more than half of this bill.”
“Those are business expenses!” he said hotly.
They still came out of their pocket until the end of the year and taxes. Last year, they’d ended up paying more. That had been a shock after ten years of getting refunds. “Alex, you were the one who encouraged me to go and meet—”
“Not every day of the week! I thought going to the club would give you something constructive to do with your time. You were sitting around every day watching soap operas, reading romances, and feeling sorry for yourself.”
She dropped the bill from the country club back onto the desk. He was making her the cause of all their financial problems. How convenient. “I’m not the one who gave Bruce Davies carte blanche and ended up with eighty-six thousand dollars in decorating expenses. That’s when the problems started.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw and his eyes darkened. “The trouble started when you decided you needed a closet full of clothes so you could keep up with Marcia Burton and the rest of her bourgeois friends.”
“If anyone’s bourgeois, it’s us.”
Alex’s face hardened.
“You’re the one who told me to buy some clothes,” she went on, lowering her voice.
“I want your credit cards.”
“You’re not being fair about any of this! You always blame everything on me! You go out to lunch in expensive restaurants every day of the week and pick up the tab for whoever comes along. You bought three tailored suits and half a dozen shirts just last week. And then you say I’m spending too much on clothes!”
“I work for a living.”
She froze at the look of contempt on his face.
She worked, too, not that he ever noticed. She drove the children to and from school, sports activities, and doctor and dentist appointments. She attended parent-teacher meetings and open houses. She planned menus, shopped, and cooked dinner, though he was seldom ever home to enjoy it. Who did he think kept the house neat and clean during the week? A maid? Who did he think washed and ironed their clothes and saw that his expensive suits were cleaned and hanging neatly in the closet? She ran the hundred and one errands he gave her every day of her miserable life, and he never even bothered to say thank you!
Hot tears filled her eyes. “Fine.” Anger and resentment filled her until she was shaking with it. She got her purse, took out her wallet, and extracted four credit cards. She tossed them on the desk.
“What’re you going to do?” Alex said. “Cry? That’ll solve a lot, won’t it!”
“No. I’m going to get a job.”
Alex raked a hand thr
ough his hair in frustration. “Keep the cards. Just don’t use them for a while. And forget about getting a job. I don’t want Steve getting wind of this mess.” He gave a derisive laugh. “What would you find anyway? You’ve got a few months of business school. Big deal! Any job you’d get would pay a pittance.” He swore. “Just back off on the club for a while until I can figure out how to juggle things around and pay some of these bills down.”
Sierra stood in stony silence. When he left, she cut up the credit cards and tucked them into the bill box, where he was sure to find them. Then she called Marcia. “Do you know anyone who might have a job opening?”
“A job?” Marcia said in surprise.
“I’m sick of being made to feel like a parasite,” she said, her voice wobbling.
“Did you and Alex have another fight?”
“Do bears live in the forest?”
“I’m sorry, Sierra.”
“I’m tired of this, Marcia. Sick to death of it.” She stopped, clutching the telephone so tightly, her hand ached.
“Ron Peirozo was over yesterday telling Tom he’s in dire need of a secretary right now. Judy’s baby is due at the end of the month. Do you have any secretarial training?”
“I went to business college before marrying Alex, but I didn’t graduate.”
“Well, charity organizations should be charitable.”
“A charity? Didn’t you introduce me to Ron Peirozo a few months ago at the club?” Sierra said. He didn’t have the appearance of someone working for a charity.
“As a matter of fact, yes. I’d forgotten.” Marcia laughed. “I can hear what you’re thinking. No, he wasn’t spending charity donations. He has his own money. His grandfather died and left him a lot of money, as well as a heart for philanthropy. The first thing Ron did was give several hundred thousand dollars to his alma mater for scholarships for minority students. Then he set up Outreach. As long as I’ve known Ron, he’s been involved in community work of some sort. He’s generous and brilliant. Besides that, his family connections bring him in contact with some of the most influential and wealthy people in the country. He could charm money out of the meanest miser and make them feel good about writing the check.”