The Willows (37 page)

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Authors: Mathew Sperle

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BOOK: The Willows
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Horrified, she felt the sting of tears.
What was wrong with her, saying such things to this impressionable
child?

But the tears kept spilling
down her cheeks, and the memories ruled across from mine. Too
vividly, she could see her mother, her face ashen with shock as
Gwen heartlessly accused her of envy. I
sn’t
that why you oppose my marriage to lance
,
she’d lashed out.
You don’t want me to be
happy when you’re not, but it’s not my fault you and father rarely
speak anymore. Maybe it was your precious ladylike ways, your
program and proper behavior that drove him away.

She could still hear her mother’s
grasp, could see her mother’s knuckles gleam white where she
clenched her hands. Even then, Gwen had known she should apologize
for her rash words, but she was angry and hurt, and far too young
to foresee the consequences. Hurling out the all too final father
hates you and so do I, she’d gone it charging into the
night.


I loved her,” she sniffed
aloud, surprised to find the tears had a cleansing effect. She’d
done wrong, and she’d always have to live with it, but it felt good
to face up to her sins, to stop running away. “And I miss her so
much.”

Sniffing again, she groped in her
pocket for her handkerchief. She glanced up to find Jude beside
her, offering a napkin. As Gwen took it and dabbed at her eyes, she
noticed the girl also held a slice of ham.


Here, eat this,” Jude
offered quickly. “It will help you feel better.”

 

***

 

Michael stood outside offices of
Schiller and Blooms, cursing lady luck for abandoning him yet
again. He’d been a mere hour late for his appointment, but the hour
had cost him dearly. There would be no loan, the banker had
proclaimed. Though they hadn’t actually said it, they nonetheless
made it clear that he failed to impress them.

Michael did not care for their opinion,
but without their money, his dream was doomed to fail.

Schiller and Blooms were not the only
bank in town, he thought angrily. He still had a month to raise the
money, and if you must knock on every door in the city, he would
find someone else to grant him a loan. Hell, if he had to, he would
could always resort to gambling. Itching him, earning his money in
such a fashion. Too easily, he could picture Gwen looking down her
large nose and calling his winnings “ill-gotten goods.” How like
her to think of the worst of him, how like him to be hurt by the
fact.

Wasn’t she a good part of why he
struggled so stubbornly? Wasn’t at least part of his dream a
long-lasting need to show Gwen that he was more than some common
dirt farmer? To just once make her see him as a king?

Damn. Maybe it was time to start
visiting every last female acquaintance in New Orleans, before the
ache in his groin destroyed him. One way or another, he had to get
that golden haired she which out of his blood.

 

***

 


The children are gone
again.” Gwen sat at the kitchen table, watching Jeffrey brew
coffee. “Jude got mad at me because I ate the ham she’d been saving
for Michael’s birthday. I thought we had everything settled between
us, but just like that, she stomped off with her brothers to the
swamp.”


Hmm.”

Hard to tell if the old man was
listening, or if he grunted at the beverage he had poured into two
cups. Remembering Michael’s coffee, Gwen wished good manners didn’t
require her participation in this drinking ritual, but Jeffrey made
it hard to refuse.


I suppose I can see why
Jude’s upset,” she went on, as much for her own benefit as
Jeffery’s. “She wanted to make the occasion special, and since ham
is one of Michael’s favorites, she thought it would be a great
treat.”


Mikey likes other things,
yes? The gator me, there is lots of it. I cured some this
morning.

Alligator meat, she thought with a
shudder. “I, think Michael want to save that for the winter.” At
least she hoped, for she should be gone by then

Jeffrey chuckled, as if he’d
anticipated her reaction and just meant to tease. “Not gator meat
then, but the children, they do love their cake, no? You just
gather up some eggs and flour, butter and sugar.” He must have seen
her blank expression, for he lapped again as he set the cup in
front of her. “I tell you what after we drink, I will tell you and
you can write it down.”


Jeffrey, I have never baked
in my life. Or done dishes, or laundry, or much of anything
else.”

He shook his head dismissively. “These
things, they are easy to learn. I will show you today, before I
leave. And ask that Jude, she will help you.”


I doubt it,” Gwen sighed.
“She is so unpredictable. One minute I think we can become friends,
but then she turns and shrieks at me. Sometimes I despair of ever
getting through to the girl.”


Patients, Gwen. You got to
forge bonds before you gain trust from one that age. You can make a
good start with that cake.”


Clearly, you have never
seen me in the kitchen.”


Can’t lose with that
recipe. A mother got it from her mother, who got it from her
mother. They who eat it, they all say it’s magical.”

Taking the required sip of coffee, Gwen
was pleasantly surprised. It was a good deal smoother and less
bitter than the one Michael served. Either she was getting used to
the stuff, or as he predicted, or Jeffrey had inherited the ability
to cook from his mother. “I don’t suppose you have any more secret
family recipes?” Gwen asked. “I could use some of that magic to
deal with their uncle.”


What has that Michael done
now?”

Not wanting to mention the top, she
brought up the next thing on her mind. “I can’t help but wonder
about all of his absences. Where does he go, that he can’t be with
the children at night?”


Good friends don’t talk
about other friends and their business.”

Code of honor, she thought with
frustration. “But, Jeffrey, how can I ever understand Michael, if a
good part of his life is a mystery?”

With a heavy sigh, he shook his head.
“Michael and I, together we been halfway across America and back. I
stand at his side when we thought in Santa Anna, I play hired gun
in the old gold mines. We share a slew of hard times between us,
Gwen. There is no way to go against a bond like that.”

It was hard not to respect such
loyalty. Or the man who inspired it.


You want to know Michael,”
Jeffrey said, “you watch and with the children, yes? Not every man
sacrifices freedom for another man’s family.”


I wondered about that. What
happened to their father that he can’t take care of
them?”


Morteau.” Jeffrey snorted
the word, his anger visible in plain view.

Gwen recognized the name. It was the
name of the man Michael was blamed for killing in a fight. “Is that
why Michael has the children, because he killed their
father?”


Who told you he was
dead?”


He is not?” Come to think
of it, Michael never mentioned his death; it was Lance tossed out
the accusation of murder.


He should be.” Jeffrey spat
in the dirt. “But justice, she looked the other way. The law, it
lets a man beat his wife, and if he kills her, well, he can always
pay a doctor to swear the fever took her.”

Horrified, Gwen gripped her cup. “He’d
beat Jeanette to death? Did the children know this?”

Jeffrey grimaced. “Michael and I, we
found out because of things they tell us. They are living on the
streets, hiding from their father when we came here. So we find it
easy to believe them.”


No wonder Michael
challenged him to a duel.”

His hands stiffed; all of Jeffrey
seemed to pause. “I’d tell you this once, and only so you can
understand. Michael didn’t fight him. He wanted to, but that Jude,
she didn’t give him a chance.”


Jude?”

Michael took them in, but their drunken
father found them once in the park. Jude, she won’t talk about it,
so he don’t know exactly what happened, only that she came home
with his shot gun, and he was sent to the doctors with a hole in
his knee.”


She is a pretty good shot,”
Gwen agreed. Horrified inside, her heart went out to the poor girl,
to all the children. She might not know them well, but she did know
Jude wouldn’t shoot anyone unless she was sorely
provoked.”


Till last night, she never
went near that shotgun. Michael kept in lock in his broom closet
for nearly a year.”


But if Jude shot him, why
does everyone blame Michael?”

Jeffrey did not say anything, Gwen
needed no explanation. Michael had claimed credit to protect the
girl, to shield her from the public scandal–just as he brought the
children here to the swap to hide them from their fathers’
cruelty.

Gwen cringed as she remembered accusing
Michael of neglect. He’d given the poor, scared children a home, a
chance to grow and learn, so who was she to question where he went
at night, or how he earned a living? And she ever done anything to
make someone else happy and safe?

Suddenly restless, she rose to her
feet. “If you don’t mind, I would really like your help in figuring
out how to do things around here. Before you go, I would like your
recipe.”


For the cake? Or dealing
with Michael?”

Dammit, is very name could start her
blushing. “For the cake, Jeffrey. I think it’s wiser to tackle one
of battlefield at a time.”

He chuckled. “No special formula,
getting on with him. He’s had a hard life, that boy, and a lonely
one. All he needs is a family to call his own.”

At his words, Gwen felt a flood of
longing. Deep down, didn’t she want the same?


Be a wife to him, Gwen,”
Jeffrey added. “Make them lots of babies.

Longing transformed into a hot,
piercing jolt of desire. Too vividly, she can imagine the process
of making those babies taking place in a tub. “No, Jeffrey,” she
said, forcing her thoughts to a calmer channel. “For now, let’s
just stick with the recipe for the cake.”

 

***

 

Jude walked into the cabin with a
string of fish, wishing there was some way to avoid the next step.
She could fish all day, but she sure hated cleaning
them.

To her surprise, Gwen stood in the
kitchen, frowning at the hearth. Flash a tentative smile when Jude
entered. Tensing, Jude wondered if she’d made a mistake, thing nice
to this woman. She sure didn’t want her to think they were now
friends.


Oh, Jude, I’m glad you’re
here. Jeffrey tried to show me how to lay a fire, but I don’t think
I’m doing it correctly. I can’t seem to get it to
light.”


Don’t expect me to help. I
got fish to clean.” Judith turned for the door, acting as if
gutting fish was the most upmost importance.


Wait, please. I need to
talk to you.” Hard not to respond to the panic in that boys, but
still, she’d have been out the door had Gwen not added, “what do
you think of moving your things into my room?”

Jude Spun, almost dropping the fish.
“No” did the woman think she now owned the place? “We don’t take
kindly to strangers coming in here and ordering things around,
lady.”


Lady. All evidence to the
contrary, the name is lady. Trust me, its more than insulting
enough.”

Jude wasn’t going to smile. This woman
kept getting around her that way, and she wasn’t having any of it.
Still, she couldn’t help but be curious about what Gwen would say
next.


I cannot blame you for
being angry,” Gwen went on. “I’m not happy about giving you my
privacy either, if you must know the truth, but you’re getting too
old to be sharing a room with boys.”


Who are you to say what I
can and cannot do?”


I didn’t decide. Nature
did. Did your mother tell you anything about the difference between
a male and a female?”


Some.”

Gwen nodded. “Don’t you think it will
be easier to be with another female, when your monthly courses
start flowing?”

Jude flushed at such talk, then began
to become angry. “That’s not why,” she stubbornly argued. “I bet
you have another reason for doing this.”


Really? Why would I want
company? You probably snore.”


I-“

With a laugh, Gwen held up a hand. “I
am only teasing. You really should smile more, Jude. Your uncle’s
party won’t be much fun, if you’re always frowning.”


What party? Did you forget
you wrecked our ham?”

She’d thrown that out to make Gwen felt
bad, but again, the woman surprised her. “We have enough left to
make sandwitches. Besides, wouldn’t it be more festive if we made a
cake?” Again preventing any negative comments, Gwen held up a piece
of paper, smiling as if it held the secrets of the universe. “I
happen to have a recipe from Jeffrey. He says that if you were to
help me, we could create magic.”

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