The Scarlet Thread (28 page)

I told him when something sounds too good to

be true, it most likely is.

But all he said to that was—Free land, Mary

Kathryn. Think of it.

I said—Free land two thousand miles away.

Free land we have not seen and know nothing

about. We have land right here already.

He said—Poor land full of rocks and roots and

heartache.

Sometimes James sounds just like he did when

he was talking about going off to New York and

England and China.

I am sick of hearing about Oregon.

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3

The Surrender

S

13

in, lugging their suitcases through the kitchen and down the hallway to their bedrooms. Sierra set her own down in the living

room and wandered through the house.

Something didn’t feel right. Sierra couldn’t put her finger on

it, but a strange foreboding filled her. At first, she wondered if

the house had been burglarized, but nothing was missing. She

opened the drapes in the living room and let the spring sunshine

in, but that didn’t help dispel the dark atmosphere.

Picking up her suitcases, Sierra went down the hallway to the

master bedroom. Her brows lifted slightly when she found the

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bed. The rugs had been vacuumed. Clean towels hung in the

bathroom. She put her hand on the doorknob to the walk-in

closet and then hesitated, irrational fear gripping her. Taking a

deep breath, she opened it and breathed in relief when she saw

Alex’s suits hanging to the right. The shelves at the back were

neatly stacked with shirts.

She went back into the bedroom, where she had put her suitcases. Hefting one onto the bed, she unlatched it and began unpacking. As she tucked her clothing back into the dresser and

put her toiletries into the bathroom, she couldn’t shake the

doubts and fears that had been building since Alex had left

Healdsburg.

The children had raised them.

Over the past two weeks while she’d remained in Healdsburg

to make some decisions with her brother, little things had come

out in conversations with the children. During the time Sierra

was in Healdsburg by herself, Dolores had spent the night

babysitting four times, and Clanton and Carolyn had spent one

weekend at Marcia Burton’s.

“Daddy!” Carolyn cried out in the other room, and Sierra

heard Clanton chattering away as their father returned early

from work. Sierra’s pulse skyrocketed. She looked around the

bedroom again and bit her lip. Had he hired a maid service? If

so, why now when he never had before? Closing the empty suitcases, she lifted them off the bed and set them near the door. She

would put them away in the garage later.

Her stomach knotted with tension. Trying to calm down, she

sat in the chair by the window. Resting her hands on the arms,

she waited.

It seemed an hour before Alex stood in the doorway. “I’m glad

you made it back safely.” His tone and expression were enigmatic.

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“Thanks.” Her heart drummed harder, not in the way it used

to when she looked at him, but with something deeper, something primeval. “Where are Carolyn and Clanton?” she said,

keeping her tone neutral.

“Carolyn’s on the telephone with Pamela, and Clanton’s down

the street playing soccer with some friends. He’ll be in before

dark.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s the matter?”

“You tell me, Alex,” she said without inflection. When he said

nothing, she drew in her breath slowly to keep herself from shaking. “I heard Dolores had to spend four nights with the children

while I was gone.” His expression flickered slightly. “And they

spent a weekend with Marcia.” A pink hue seeped up from his

collar and filled his face.

Sierra closed her eyes.

Alex came into the bedroom and closed the door quietly behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, saying nothing.

When he spoke, his voice was low and heavy. “I didn’t want to

talk about this. Not the first day you got home.” He sat down on

the bed and leaned forward, clasping his hands between his

knees. “Things aren’t working between us anymore.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyes grazed hers

and shifted away.

“You don’t understand what’s important to me,” he said.

“What is important, Alex?”

He looked at her then, coolly. “My work. You’ve resented

what I do from the beginning.”

“Can you tell me truthfully it’s
work
that kept you away for six

nights while I was gone?”

The small lines around his mouth deepened. “We’ve got nothing in common anymore. Our marriage started disintegrating a

long time ago.”

“We have two children in common,” she said quietly. “We’re

married to one another. We have that in common.”

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anymore.”

Sierra hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to have Alex

say those words straight out. She remembered listening to

Meredith talk about her ex-husbands.
“They always say you never

understood them, that you don’t have anything in common anymore. But

it usually boils down to one thing. Another woman.”

Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Sierra. I—”

“Who is she, Alex?”

He looked away from her and sighed. Standing, he moved

restlessly, finally stopping near her dresser. “What difference

does it make?”

“I’d like to hear the news from you before I hear it from someone else.”

Alex pushed his hands in his pockets, reminding her of the

night Roy Lubbeck had given him a letter from her mother. Had

he ever bothered to read it?

“Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth?” Her heart plummeted. “Elizabeth Longford?”

she said weakly, cold clarity washing over her like a tidal wave.

“The woman from Connecticut?”

“Yes.”

“The one who graduated from Wellesley?”

“Yes.”

Alex said she didn’t understand him. Oh, but he was wrong, so

wrong. She knew him better than he knew himself. She saw him

so clearly in that instant. It was as though all the veiling had been

ripped away, leaving his soul bare for her to see.

“You finally made the grade, didn’t you?” she said softly, hurt

beyond anything she could ever have thought possible.

Alex turned slowly and looked at her. Sierra watched her husband’s face change. Shock. Pain. Rage. She knew her words had

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struck true, right to the very heart of the matter. He knew exactly what she meant. The poor farm laborer’s son who had

never felt good enough had finally bagged himself a worthy trophy. Beautiful, well-educated, accomplished Elizabeth Longford, daughter of the American Revolution. Maybe he didn’t

fully realize she had always understood his insecurities and loved

him despite them. Certainly she had never expected to throw

them in his face. But then, she had never expected him to betray

her with another woman.

“Bruja,”
he said through his teeth.

“And what are you, Alex? A cheat and a liar.”

Had Alex been another kind of man, he would have struck her.

She saw how much he wanted to. She almost wished he would.

Maybe then she wouldn’t feel this sick anguish. She’d be glad to see

him leave. She wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t feel like he was ripping

her heart out. Looking into his eyes, she saw no hint of tenderness

or regret. She saw a man determined to be free, eager to be gone.

“This farce of a marriage is
over!”
he said, enraged.

Pain gripped Sierra until she could hardly breathe. She knew

Alejandro Luís Madrid so well. If she apologized, it would make

no difference. She had done the unthinkable by putting light on

his secret pain. If she begged, it wouldn’t change anything. He

would never forgive her. His very blood would cry out against it.

“It’s not over for me, Alex. It never will be.”

Crossing the room, he opened the door. “That’s your problem,” he said and walked out.

Lucas came back today.

If I could wish a man dead, it would be him. He

was a bad seed as far back as I can remember and

he has grown up tangled and full of treachery.

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and dressed in fine clothes, claiming the homestead belongs to him. I told him he was a thief and

a liar. He laughed and said it dont matter. What is

important is he is Papas firstborn and I am disinherited. He has a letter from Hiram Reinholtz to

prove it.

And then he said bold as brass—But since

James has done such a fine job working the

place, I will be generous and allow you to stay

on as sharecroppers. And if you don’t like that

arrangement, Mary Kathryn, you can pack up

and go straight to hades.

James said he will not fight Lucas over the land.

No matter what I say, he will not listen. This land

is my home. I was born in this house. James has

done more work in the fields than Lucas ever did.

And now my no-good brother shows up after all

these years and says the homestead all belongs to

him. Not without a fight, I say.

James says no. He says we are going to Oregon.

Lucas came to the house today and he brought

a man and woman with him. They all were in a

wagon. I stood on the front porch with a rifle, but

James took it from me before I could shoot my

brother dead. Lucas brought Elder right into my

house. The man had his hat in his hand and

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would not look at me. It did not help knowing he

is ashamed for taking my home from me. Lucas

said he has a contract with Elder. Elder will work

the land and share profits.

I am writing this in the barn by candlelight as

I am pushed out of my own home and my own

husband helped. I am sleeping in the hay with my

babies. Where James is sleeping I don’t know

and I don’t care.

Aunt Martha welcomed us with open arms. So

did Betsy and Clovis. I had not cried a tear until

I saw them and now I cannot stop.

It was a long ride here by farm wagon from the

homestead. Not in miles. The children fretted and

kept asking how long it would take to get to

Galena. James was short-tempered. If it’s like

this for two days travel, what does he think it will

be like on a two-thousand mile journey through

Indian infested wilderness?

He said—You will see I am right when we get

to Oregon, Mary Kathryn.

I did not answer or even look at him.

I hoped in vain that by the time we got here,

he would change his mind. I hoped he would see

I am right and he would turn this wagon around

and go back and fight for what belongs to us.

He didn’t change his mind about nothing. He’s

dug in his heels deep as Papa ever did. He went

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