The Listening Sky (42 page)

“How did Mr. Kilkenny know about Stella’s mother? The judge hired me right after she died, but a woman came one day who knew
her and said she got sick all of a sudden after her husband got run over by a carriage. It didn’t occur to me that the judge
could have poisoned her, although I found out quick enough how mean he was.”

“I didn’t like his face when he came in the door,” Sunday announced.

“He had one face for the public and one face at home. At times I thought of poisoning him myself. But then if he hadn’t died,
and I’d been caught, Stella would have been alone with him.” Maude wiped her eyes on the end of her apron. “I just never knowed
people good as you.”

T.C. watched from the doorway with a grin on his face.

“Ya made that all up, didn’t ya?” Sunday asked.

“Not all of it. Doc did tell me one time about the puffed-up judge and the sick woman, and he thought there was something
fishy about how she died. But he had no proof. I made up the rest. Had to let him think Doc was still alive and able to go
down there and talk to the newspaper man in Laramie.”

“Mamma!” Stella came down the stairs followed by Polly. “We saw him goin’ with Herb.” She ran to Maude and wrapped her arms
around her waist.

“He’s gone, honey, and not comin’ back. We’re rid of him.”

“Forever?”

“Yes, sweetheart. We don’t have to worry about going back there. We’ll stay here in Timbertown, and you can go to school and—”
Sobs rose in Maude’s throat and she could say no more.

Stella went to T.C. and wrapped her arms around his legs.

“Thank you. Me and Mamma were so scared when we saw him last night. I’ll be good from now on. I promise.”

T.C. reached down and picked her up. She wrapped her arms about his neck.

“Don’t be too good, punkin, or I’ll forget you’re a little girl and think you’re all grown up.”

His eyes were on Jane as he hugged the child.

Tears rolled down Maude’s scarred cheeks.

The new doctor came in the afternoon. After T.C. had introduced him he looked at the swollen bruise on the side of Jane’s
head and then at Sunday’s. He looked at the pupils of their eyes to check for concussion. In his opinion, neither woman was
seriously injured, but he expressed surprise that they were able to be up and about.

“Our women out here are pretty tough,” T.C. said proudly.

Doctor Bate smiled. “It seems so. In Chicago most of my women patients would have stayed in bed for a week.”

T.C., Herb and the doctor spent several hours in the surgery discussing Doc’s equipment and taking note of the medical supplies
on hand.

Doctor Bate stood silently, almost reverently, before the framed medical school certificate that hung askew on the wall above
Doc’s scarred old desk.

“I’ve heard about Little Doc’s heroic feats during the War. Everyone in the medical field is aware of his devotion to his
work. Nathan Foote is held up to young medical students as an example of dedication. I am honored to be offered his practice
here. A man is lucky if he meets a Nathan Foote sometime during his life.”

Before supper a price had been agreed upon, and everything, with the exception of Doc’s desk and his private papers, had been
moved to the newly remodeled rooms above the store where the new doctor would live and practice. The stairway going up the
outside of the building had also been repaired and a supply of firewood was stacked beneath it. A strong new door was hung
at the top of the landing.

Dr. Bate’s quarters would remain relatively bare until the furniture he was having shipped by train from Chicago arrived.
The town, the living area and the surgery were far different from what he had experienced before, but he settled in quickly
and was ready to receive patients by evening should an emergency arise.

It was painful for Herb to see Doc’s possessions being taken over by someone else, but it was a necessary transfer. Herb would
keep the desk, the certificate and the personal mementos to cherish and to pass down to his own children.

That night around the supper table the talk was of Herb’s and Polly’s wedding, which would take place in T.C.’s office. Polly’s
baby was due after the first of the year and they had decided to accept T.C.’s invitation to spend the winter here in the
house rather than be in a cabin some distance away. The surgery would be made into their bedroom.

While these plans were being made, Jane looked with sympathy at Sunday. Everyone else in the “family” was doing so well: Maude
and Stella were out from under the heavy blanket of fear that they would have to go back to Judge Covington. Polly and Herb
held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes. Her own hand was clasped tightly in T.C.’s. Sunday tried to keep up the appearance
of being bright and happy, but while her mouth smiled, her eyes did not. Jane realized she was hurting inside. Not only had
she lost Colin, but she had killed a man, and it weighed heavily on her.

That night, after a wildly satisfying bout of lovemaking, Jane lay in her husband’s arms and they talked about it.

“Killing a man isn’t an easy thing to live with even though her life and yours depended on her doing it. It’s going to take
a while for her to come to terms with what she had to do.”

“She looks so sad.”

“We owe her a big debt.” T.C.’s arms tightened about her as he nuzzled his face in her hair. “Honey, I thought my heart would
burst when I couldn’t find you.”

“It was a danger I didn’t expect. Not from
him.
What in the world was he thinking of he? It was insane of him.”

“It was insane of him to think I’d ever give up looking for you. If he’d hurt you, I’d have hunted him down if it had taken
me the rest of my life.”

“Do you think he could have been the one sending the notes? I’ve thought about it. I started getting them at the station,
and he was there.”

“Tennihill doesn’t think so, and he seems to know quite a bit about Fresno. I’ve looked into the face of everyone who came
to town at that time and I don’t have a clue as to whom it could be. And until we find out, I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Sunday is getting restless. She feels she must work to pay her way. I wish that Colin hadn’t gone away. Even if… he did do
what Mrs. Guzman Cabeza says he did, maybe Sunday could have forgiven him… in time.”

“It will work itself out. I’d stake ten years of my life with you on it. The baby is
not
Colin’s. How he’s going to prove it, I don’t know. But enough about all of them, Mrs. Kilkenny. Pay some attention to your
husband.”

Jane laughed softly, put her arms around him ana brought his head to her shoulder. He sighed contentedly and caressed her
soft breast. Her hand smoothed the hair at his temples. Her lips played along his forehead.

“You’re getting spoiled, Timmie, my love. And I’m loving spoiling you. Have I told you today how much I love you? And how
proud I was of you when you stood up to that horrid man, and kept him from taking Maude and Stellar

“I don’t remember. Maybe you’d better tell me again.”

A
FTER the first light snowfall had melted away, a week of beautiful late fall weather followed. Work on the first group of
store buildings was completed. When new merchants arrived and more space was needed, more building would be undertaken. Repairs
were started on the funerary and an addition was being constructed for the hotel. The church and the schoolhouse were nearby
ready for use. T.C. had sent to Laramie for school supplies, and a notice had been put up in the store asking parents to list
names and ages of children who would attend classes.

Two things stood in the way of Jane’s complete peace of mind: the fear of her unknown enemy and the threat of perhaps being
an embarrassment to her beloved. She was always accompanied by either Sunday or T.C. when she went out on the street; she
went to the privy only during daylight hours. Even then T.C. insisted that one of the women go with her.

Since there had been no untoward incident since the smearing of the sign, she was inclined to believe her tormentor might
have been Bob Fresno. T.C. tried to tell her that the outlaw’s attempt to kidnap her could have been a retaliation against
him
for refusing to give the man work. But she remembered that Fresno had singled her out for his attention that first day at
the stage station. She hoped that he had been the note-writer, or maybe it had been Milo Callahan, who had disappeared from
town the night of the dance after he’d tried to rape Bessie.

Jane trusted only the members of her “family” and looked into the face of every other person she met and asked herself:
Could it be you?

Sunday’s despair over loving Colin so desperately and being disappointed by him was also worrisome to Jane. Loving T.C. as
she did, she could understand Sunday’s pain.

Polly and Herb were married quietly with only the “family,” Sweet William Wassall and Tennihill present. Polly was beautiful
and weepy in a white dress she and Maude had hastily made on the sewing machine T.C. had brought down from the store. Theda
Cruise generously lent her violin to Sunday, who played several selections before and after the ceremony.

The morning of the wedding Herb had visited the tonsorial parlor for a bath, shave, and haircut. After he had dressed in a
white shirt, stiff collar, black string tie and new duck britches, he went into the office, where T.C. was making a list of
out-of-pocket expenses to send to Garrick Rowe.

“Can I talk to ya a minute?” Herb asked, and closed the door.

T.C. put down his pen and leaned back in the chair.

“Getting cold feet, Herb?” he asked with a grin.

“Horse-hockey. Ya know I ain’t. I want to marry Polly more’n anythin’ in the world. It’s just that I’m scared I won’t… know
what to do.”

T.C. thought a minute, then asked, “What to do in bed?”

“I know
what
to do, but don’t know if I ort to. I was with a woman… once. She was a whore. When I told Doc about it, he said I could get
the French pox from messin’ around with old whores and my pecker’d rot and fall off. Scared hell outta me. I never done it
again.”

“Good advice.”

“The thin’ that worries me is that feller that forced Polly hurt her. I don’t want her to think I’m like him, and I didn’t
know if I ort to touch her… there, because she’s already been caught.”

“That’s something I can’t tell you. Jane or Maude would know.”

“I couldn’t ask
them
.”

“I’ll ask Jane and let you know. But I’m thinking that Polly may have to get used to being in bed with you. Maybe if you just
held her for a few nights even if you hurt so bad you think you’ll die from it. Be gentle with her and when the time is right,
she’ll be more likely to accept you.”

“I want her that way real bad, but I don’t want to hurt her even if she says I can,” Herb said worriedly. “She’s just a little
girl and hasn’t had nobody to look after her.”

“She’s got you now.”

“Yeah. And ya can bet yore boots nobody’ll hurt her ever again.”

Jane had to speak with Maude and Sunday before she had information for T.C. to relay to Herb.

It was the measure of her growing sense of freedom with him that she could engage in talk of this kind in the light of day.
At first his half-teasing attacks on her modesty had wrought havoc with her ingrained inhibitions. When they whispered to
each other in the dead of night, no word was unseemly, no act offensive. Now she was able to talk with her husband about the
delicate subject wholly without embarrassment, and it proved to her just how completely their minds and bodies had merged.

“Both Sunday and Maude, who know more about this than I do, said that women usually can sleep and do other things with their
husbands up until a month before the baby is due. Sunday, in her plain-talk way, said, ‘that kid’s in there tight as a pea
in a pod and he ain’t goin’ to knock it out less Herb gets downright mean about it.’” “Jane’s repeating of Sunday’s words
brought a smile to T.C.’s face. “Of course, Polly isn’t very strongly built, although she’s much stronger than when she first
came here.”

“Shall I tell him it’s all right if he’s careful?”

“Tell him it would be better to let Polly decide. She loves him. She’ll want to give him all the pleasure she can.”

“Like you give me?” T.C. kissed the side of her neck.

“And like you give me, love.” She kissed him back.

The wedding supper was more joyous than the one following T.C.’s and Jane’s wedding. Herb was as happy as a puppy. Polly glowed.

There was, however, a sadness, behind Sunday’s jovial behavior. She had mentioned to Jane earlier in the day that she was
considering taking die stage back to the rail station when it again went south, which would be in a few days.

“I’ve got no future here, Jane. I need to be rippin’ and rearin’. It isn’t my nature to sit in a room and sew all day long,
or stand behind a stove and make bear claws or behind a counter and show ribbons and doodads to flitter-headed ninnies like
Paralee. I don’t know why I ever thought I could.”

“Give it a little more time. Please, Sunday, I don’t want to lose you.”

On a cold bat bright sunshiny day several weeks after Potty and Herb were married, Jane and Sunday washed clothes and hung
them on me line behind the house. There woold ant be many more days when clothes would dry outside without freezing first.
In the middle of the afternoon they took the laundry inside, where Maude was heating the flat irons on the cookstove.

Stella and Buddy Winters were playing on the swing Herb had hung from a limb of the big tree beside the house. Mrs. Winters
had loosened her tight rein on the boy, and he was out and around town most of the day.

“She’s lettin’ that boy run wild,” Maude exclaimed at one time. “And he’s a bright child. His curiosity is what gets him in
trouble.”

“She works hard and does a good business.” Jane dipped her hand into a pan of water dampened a shot and rolled it tightly.
“Although, according to Bill, her bread and rolls are not as good as yours.”