Page 27 of The Scarlet Thread


  I can make no sense of anything. I can not even think.

  God, why do you hate me so much?

  Chapter 19

  “I’m waiting for someone,” Sierra told the waitress. “A glass of water will be fine until she arrives.” Providing Audra came at all.

  It had taken the better part of two days for Sierra to gather enough nerve to call Audra and ask her to lunch. She’d expected Audra to refuse or say something painful. Instead, she had said simply, “Where?”

  Sierra hadn’t been prepared for that. “Wherever you’d like.”

  “The club. One o’clock on Thursday. Is that all right?”

  “Eleven thirty would be better for me, Audra. I’ll be on my lunch hour.”

  “Fine,” she said in a clipped voice. “I’ll be there.”

  Sierra arrived early and saw Meredith sitting alone in the lounge. She joined her for a few minutes, reminiscing and catching up on news.

  “That makes three of us,” Meredith said when Sierra told her she and Alex were getting a divorce. “Eric dumped me for a younger, richer model, and Lorraine finally divorced Frank. Luckily, she got herself a first-cabin attorney. She’s on a Caribbean cruise right now. And guess who’s paying for it?”

  “How’s Ashley?” Sierra said, sorry to hear so many sad tidings.

  “Bulimic. She collapsed a few weeks ago and is in counseling now. She looks like she’s a survivor of the Holocaust.”

  A few minutes before Audra was due to arrive, Sierra wrote out her new address and telephone number. “Please call. I’d love to have you come for dinner. Mondays and Fridays are best for me. Pick a date and let me know.”

  Meredith looked at her with a bemused smile. “I might just surprise you and take up your invitation.”

  Sierra bent and kissed her cheek.

  She was checking on her reservation when Audra arrived. Blushing, she extended her hand. “Hello, Audra.”

  After a brief hesitation, Audra took her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Sierra.”

  “Your table is ready, Mrs. Madrid. Right this way.”

  They sat in a quiet alcove between some ferns. Sierra had asked for a private table and given the young man a healthy tip to ensure it. Audra didn’t say anything after she ordered white wine. Sierra ordered a lemon-lime. Maybe it would settle her stomach.

  Taking a breath, she blew it out slowly and lifted her head. “I’ve had a lot of time to think things over, Audra. You were right about everything. Not the least of which, you were right about the way I treated you. I wanted to apologize to you in person.”

  Audra stared at her for a long moment. “Well . . . ,” she said slowly. “I came prepared to defend myself. I’ve gone over my side of our conversation a hundred times over the last few days. One word of condemnation and I could’ve nailed your ears to the wall. And here you go, taking the wind right out of my sails.” She lifted her wineglass. “Congratulations.”

  Sierra didn’t know what to make of her words. She’d known this meeting would be difficult. Clenching her hands together, she prepared herself for whatever Audra had to say. She’d keep silent and listen if it killed her.

  Audra gave a soft mirthless laugh. “I am a snob, Sierra. I am a social climber. The one thing I’ve always wanted—and found absolutely impossible—is to fit in. The only person in this world who really loves me is Stephen. God knows why. From the time I was a child, I’ve had one great talent: alienating people.”

  She fumbled with her silverware and then, as though catching herself in a terrible faux pas, put her hands in her lap. She looked across the table, directly into Sierra’s eyes, and tipped her chin. “Sometimes, I’d see a look on your face that made me cringe inside. That time on Rodeo Drive, for example, when I bought that ridiculously expensive dress and asked you why you didn’t buy something, too. I don’t even know why I did it. To put you in your place, I suppose. But you looked at me, and for just an instant I saw myself through your eyes. It wasn’t pretty.” Her hand shook slightly as she lifted the glass of white wine again. “So, for whatever it’s worth to you, Sierra, I apologize, too. Truce?”

  Sierra felt a sudden rush of warmth toward this woman she’d always seen as her enemy. She caught a glimpse of Audra’s insecurities and loneliness and ached for her. Lifting her glass of lemon-lime, she smiled. “I think we can do better than that, Audra. We can be friends.”

  When Audra said Alex and Elizabeth didn’t seem to be getting along, Sierra asked that Alex be considered a forbidden subject. “It’s over, Audra. He’s with someone else. It hurts to talk about him.”

  “It’s not over until you’re divorced.”

  “I signed the papers for him last week. It’s only a matter of time.”

  An odd look crossed Audra’s face. For a moment, she seemed desperate to offer some advice. Then, showing uncharacteristic sensitivity, she changed the subject.

  They parted amicably. Audra said lunch would be on her next time. “I’ll take you to La Serre.”

  “You will not,” Sierra said with a laugh. “One of the things that used to bother me most was knowing I couldn’t reciprocate. So you can treat me next time, if you like, but after that, we’re going Dutch and someplace the average Joe can afford or we don’t go anywhere at all.”

  “Oh, all right,” Audra said, pretending to be annoyed.

  Sierra returned to work feeling elated. She had gone to lunch expecting to face Audra’s disdain and condemnation. Instead, she had come away with a new friend, one she might have had three years ago if she hadn’t been so caught up in herself.

  When she arrived home, the children were already there, Clanton working on his math at the kitchen table while Carolyn talked on the telephone to Pamela. “Marcia says to say hi, Mom.”

  “Tell her hello back and remind her we’re going shopping this Saturday.” Alex was taking Clanton to Magic Mountain again. Friday afternoons, he always picked up Carolyn and spent the evening with her.

  Dropping her purse on the counter, Sierra slid onto one of the kitchen stools and began opening the mail. In the pile was a course catalog from a local junior college. Scanning it, she saw several business courses that would help her at her job. While practical, they didn’t look as interesting as one titled “Creative Decorating on a Limited Budget.”

  She chuckled. Now, there was a course that sounded right up her alley. But she’d already done all the decorating she could afford for the time being, and she had several projects that were yet to be completed. The old armoire that had belonged to Alex’s parents was stripped and ready for staining, and she had the fabric she wanted to cover the wing chairs. She’d also bought the acrylics to start on the flower-and-leaf trim she’d drawn for Carolyn’s bedroom.

  Tossing the catalog aside, she picked up the bill for her car insurance. Since she had traded in the BMW for a Saturn, her rates had dropped drastically.

  Carolyn hung up and slid off the stool, opening the refrigerator. “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”

  Sierra grinned. “How about hot dogs with macaroni and cheese for a change?”

  “Aw, Mom. Can’t we order Chinese tonight?”

  “Not tonight, honey,” she said, opening a letter from Alex’s parents. She wrote to them once a week as she’d always done. They were inviting her and the children to spend Thanksgiving with them. María tactfully mentioned Alex had plans to go East this year. When she finished the letter, she left it out so the children could read it.

  It was a long drive to Healdsburg, but it was time. She hadn’t been home since her mother died.

  The telephone rang again. “It’s for you, Mom.”

  She took it. “Hello?”

  “Marcia said you signed the divorce papers.”

  Her heart jumped at the sound of Ron’s voice. “News travels fast,” she said, keeping her tone light.

  “I heard about it the day Marcia did. I waited this long so you’d have a chance to adjust.”

  Sliding off the st
ool, she put the kettle on. Audra claimed there was nothing like a cup of herbal tea to settle jumpy nerves. Ron asked about the children and her new home. She didn’t have to ask where he’d gotten her telephone number. Marcia would have given it to him three weeks ago, along with the news of her divorce.

  “Do you see Alex very often?”

  “When he stops by to pick up one or both of the children,” she said, sensing his caution with her. He was sensitive enough not to ask if Alex was planning to marry Elizabeth Longford.

  Ron told her Judy’s baby was crawling and Arlene had taken two weeks’ vacation in Baja. “She came back tanned and sassy.”

  Sierra laughed. She’d forgotten how easy it was to talk to him. Relaxing, she asked about several of the teenagers she’d worked with while at Outreach. He told her one was back in high school and another had moved to Kansas to live with her grandmother. He filled her in about several others who had entered the program. They talked for over an hour before Ron said, “I’d like to take you to dinner Friday evening,” and obliterated Sierra’s sense of security and ease.

  “I don’t know, Ron. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “I’m asking you to dinner, Sierra. I’m not asking you to marry me.”

  “I know, but I have a feeling the one might lead to the other.”

  He gave a soft laugh. “That was frank. Am I that transparent?”

  “You were open and honest, Ron. I was blind and stupid.”

  “You were trying to keep your life together.”

  “I’m still trying.”

  “Welcome to the human race,” he said. “Look, what if I promise I won’t even try to hold your hand for six months? Unless you give me permission to do so, of course.”

  She laughed. “It would be such a relief not to have to fight men off,” she said dryly. He teased her for the next five minutes, making light of her concerns in order to alleviate them. “Give me some time to think about it,” she said finally, noticing the way the children were looking at her. They knew it wasn’t their father on the telephone.

  “I’ll call you Friday.”

  She had a feeling Ron knew Friday evenings and Saturdays were Alex’s time with the children and her time alone to think. Marcia knew, and it seemed whatever she knew, Ron knew.

  “Who was that?” Clanton said when she hung up the phone.

  “Ron Peirozo.”

  “Hey! Are we going sailing again?”

  She looked at her two children and saw the idea didn’t seem to bother them in the slightest.

  “Maybe.”

  I have been going over it again and again in my mind.

  I want to figure out what could have happened. James said he was going down to the stream to try to catch some fish for supper. When he did not come back by dusk, I sent Hank to fetch him. Hank came running back screaming Papa was in the creek and would not get up. He was dead when I got to him.

  It took the two of us to pull James up onto the bank. He was white and bloated and had a cut on his forehead. He must have slipped on a rock, fallen, and hit his head. He must have been knocked senseless. How else could he have drowned in less than a foot of water.

  Events are plaguing me. I can not think of anything but the Horrible Thing I did to James.

  I had to use the horse to drag James’s body home. I washed and dressed him in clean clothes to prepare him for burial. I was so tired by the time I finished, I could do no more until morning.

  Joshua dug the grave, but it took all of us working together to half carry, half drag James to his resting place. I knew it would be a fearsome thing to get him in it and did not want the children to see. Worst of all, I could not leave the blanket on James. We have none to spare and winter upon us. So I told Joshua to take them back to the wagon.

  I unrolled James out of the blanket and he went down into the earth with a terrible thud. And then I cursed him. I was so mad at him that I had to do it. I cursed him for dying and leaving us. I cursed and wept and covered him over with dirt.

  And now I can’t stop thinking about him down there in the cold.

  How could you leave me like this, James? How could you bring me and our babies two thousand miles and then die at the end of the trail? I should have listened to Aunt Martha and married Thomas Atwood Houghton. I would have been living in a nice warm house with plenty of food. My children would be warm, fed, and safe.

  You never even thought of building us a cabin and now we are left here in the wilderness shivering in what is left of our wagon. You never thought about how few supplies we have left and winter on us. You just had to keep looking west, didn’t you, James? You just had to keep on wondering what was over the hills. You never had a single thought what would happen to us if anything happened to you! And what will happen to our children if I die having this baby you put in me?

  I hate you, James Addison Farr. I hope you rot in hell for what you have done to us.

  I don’t mean it. I’m so scared, James. What am I going to do without you? Where do I go to find help? How are we going to survive in this wild place?

  There is this terrible silence without you, this ache inside that gets heavier every day.

  Better had it been me who died. You would have known what to do to keep the rest alive.

  I used the last of our salt pork and flour this morning. The rain is heavy upon us. The cold goes into my bones. Joshua says we should go on to the Fort. I am too sick to make it. I told him to take the children and go.

  We ate the last of our beans tonight. Joshua leaves in the morning for Fort Ross. Hank, Matthew, and Beth will not leave me. Joshua said he will ride west as far as the ocean and then head north. He is riding James’s horse and taking his own for packing. I gave him what money we had left for supplies. It was the last of what Aunt Martha give me.

  God, please, help him find his way there and back to us.

  Joshua has been gone four days. We have no food and no ammunition. The fish are not biting.

  God, I won’t ask You to help me. But please help my children.

  You must be watching over us, God. I can think of no other reason for the Strange Occurrence.

  A grizzly came into our meadow. I called a warning to the children. The boys made it to the wagon, but Beth froze. I told her to run, but she was too scared to move with that she-demon coming straight for her and making a roar from hell itself. I never even stopped to think. I just started running for her and praying. Oh, God, did I pray. Out loud. The words just came pouring out of me in Pure Terror. I have not prayed so hard since Mama was sick.

  And You answered! You told me to sing to that beast from hell and I did. Oh, I did. I thought I must be going crazy with fear, but I did it anyway. I remember now MacLeod told the men guarding the stock once to sing to the animals during a storm. And we were in the midst of a storm, hard rain, thunder and lightning and that Terrible beast coming from the woods. I sang loud enough to wake James. I sang whatever came into my head, mostly hymns Aunt Martha used to play on the piano and Mama taught me. Hymns I had not sung in years. They come back. The bear was up on two hind legs and only twenty some feet from us. I thought we were dead for sure. That grizzly was eager to tear us limb from limb and there I stood with Beth tucked behind me singing like a crazy woman.

  But that bear stopped! Oh, Lord, she did. She came down and cocked its head, and looked at me. I did not look it in the eyes but up at heaven, singing with all my might. The beast moved its head back and forth. I was afraid my voice would dry up, but it did not. The words kept coming back to me, one hymn after another. The bear stayed right there and listened for so long I thought my hair was turning white! And then she just lumbered off, calm and quiet as you please and disappeared into the woods.

  I sank down on my knees and laughed and wept and held Beth to me. She said—Mama, it was a Miracle. And all I could say was—Yes, A Blessed Miracle.

  I feel changed inside myself. Something gave way or cracked open or something.

  Oh
, Jesus, You are there! Mama was right after all.

  Chapter 20

  Sierra had always loved walking along Mathesen Street in the fall. The trees were orange and gold, the light breeze crisp, the air clear. She’d taken the children down to the Plaza and bought them donuts from the deli while they wandered around, looking in shop windows.

  Now, going up the steps of the old house, she felt the tug of grief again. When they drove up the drive last night, she’d expected to enter a cold, empty house. Instead, someone had turned on the furnace. A fire was going in the parlor, the screen in place and wood in the basket. In the kitchen was a Pyrex dish of warm enchiladas and a note from Alex’s mother.

  We look forward to seeing you and our grandchildren tomorrow. Dinner at three.

  Love, María and Luís

  She called them to let them know she and the children had arrived safely and to thank them for their thoughtfulness. “Your brother gave us the key,” María said. “We left it under the mat on the back porch.”

  She called her brother to let him and Melissa know she’d arrived. “We’ll come by tomorrow morning,” Mike said. “There’s something I need to talk over with you. It’s important.”

  “What time?”

  “Eleven. We’re supposed to go to Melissa’s parents for turkey dinner. We’ll have to leave by one to get there on time.”

  “Eleven it is.”

  She and the children had just shrugged out of their coats when Mike unlocked the door and his family poured in. For a few minutes, all Sierra could hear were the excited voices of reuniting cousins. She kissed her niece and nephews and announced she had brought back a bag of donuts from the deli.

  Mike got right to the point. “A couple wants to buy the house and turn it into a bed-and-breakfast.”

  Sierra’s stomach dropped. “Buy the house?”

  “They’ve been looking for property in the area for over a year. They liked this house. Apparently they stopped by once, and Mom invited them in for coffee and cookies. She gave them the grand tour but said she wasn’t interested in selling. She told them to check back in a year or two. They took her at her word and came by a week ago. When they found out Mom had passed away, they traced me through the church pastor.”