Chương 6
Voss turned the glass between his fingers. “Jonah is Caleb’s son. Caleb’s only sister lives in Nebraska. She may be willing to take him.”
Silas felt his restraint thinning.
“And Mae?”
“She is your difficulty.”
“They stay with Nora.”
“Perhaps. If the court considers her fit.”
“What court?”
“The circuit judge arrives Friday.”
Three days.
Voss leaned back. “A feverish widow who admits theft and falsification may find the judge unsympathetic. Particularly if Doctor Vale reports habitual laudanum use.”
“She was not an addict.”
“I did not say she was.”
“You gave her the bottle.”
“I gave her medicine when she complained of pain.”
“What pain?”
“Grief. Fear. Loneliness. The usual female complaints.”
Silas’s hand closed.
Voss noticed.
“There he is,” he said softly. “The man from Abilene.”
Silas let his hand open.
“Caleb told me about Thomas Bell,” Voss continued. “He said you struck Thomas, followed him into the street, and frightened the horses that killed him. You escaped before trial.”
“There was no trial.”
“Because you ran.”
“Yes.”
The admission seemed to disappoint Voss.
Silas said, “Here is what happens now. Nora keeps the children. You stay away from Mrs. Pike’s house. I repay your thirty-eight dollars after I see the payroll book. On Friday, we let the judge hear whatever Nora chooses to say.”
Voss chuckled. “You have arrived with a saddle, a canvas sack, and perhaps forty dollars. Yet you speak as if you possess leverage.”
“I have your attention.”
“For the moment.”
“That is enough to begin.”
Voss rose. He was taller than Silas expected.
“I built this town,” he said. “The well, the freight depot, the schoolhouse roof. When a family has no seed, I lend it. When a man breaks his leg, I keep his wife’s account open. People dislike debt, so they invent uglier names for it. Theft. Control. Slavery. The words cost nothing.”
“And the land?”
“Mine, mostly.”
“Because people signed papers they could not read.”
“Because I took risks they were too frightened to take.”
Silas stepped toward the door.
Voss said, “Ask Nora what she did after Caleb died.”
Silas stopped.
“She will tell you I preyed upon her,” Voss continued. “Ask how often she came to this house after dark. Ask who suggested changing the freight counts before I ever did.”
Silas turned.
Voss’s expression held no triumph, only weariness.
“You think you found a woman on the barn floor and therefore know where innocence lies,” he said. “You have always preferred simple stories. They permit simple men to feel righteous.”
Silas left without answering.
Morning arrived gray and windy. Nora’s fever had dropped enough for her to sit against the pillows and eat three spoonfuls of broth. Doctor Vale called that improvement, accepted another dollar, and advised everyone not to become hopeful in his presence.
Mae would not speak to Silas.
She helped Mrs. Pike wash cups, swept a floor that did not need sweeping, and took Jonah outside to watch the livery men shoe a mare. Each time Silas entered a room, she found another reason to leave it.
Nora watched this with no apparent sympathy.
“You did well,” she said.
“I told the truth.”
“You told a child she may not be wanted.”
“I said—”
“I heard you.”
Silas sat near the bed. “Voss found me six years ago.”
The spoon stopped between bowl and mouth.
“He intercepted your letters,” Silas said. “Caleb asked him not to tell you.”
Nora placed the spoon down carefully.
“No.”
“That is what he claims.”
“Caleb would not.”
“He found a returned letter after you married.”
“He knew about you.”
“Knowing about me is not knowing I was alive.”
“He would have told me.”
Silas did not answer.
Nora pushed the tray away. “Voss lies.”
“Yes.”
“Then why repeat it?”
“Because this lie has details.”
She looked toward the window. A strand of hair clung to her cheek. She brushed at it twice before her fingers found it.
“Caleb was kind to me,” she said. “Not at first. At first he was shy and I was angry at everybody. He built Mae a cradle before she was born. He never once called her another man’s child.”
“I believe you.”
“You do not get to make him small.”
“I am not.”
“You walked away. He stayed.”
Silas absorbed that.
After a moment, he said, “Voss also said you helped alter accounts before he forced you.”
Nora’s face lost what little color it had regained.
“That part is true.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“You kept the books.”
“I stopped counting.”
He got up and closed the door.
Nora stared at the blanket. “Caleb owed Voss after the bad winter. Most men did. Voss showed me how to move a loss from one month to another. At first it was his money. Then he showed me how to add freight charges to cattle that had never gone anywhere.”
“You knew families would pay.”
“I told myself they would pay him anyway.”
“Did Caleb know?”
“No.”
“What did you receive?”
“A roof. Food. Medicine. Later, cash.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Did you go to Voss’s house after dark?”
She looked at him sharply.
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“I took the books there. He did not touch me.”
“That was not what I asked.”
“No, Silas. I did not lie with him.”
He heard the anger in her voice and the relief inside himself, and hated both.
Nora saw it.
“You still believe you have a claim,” she said.
“I asked a question.”
“You asked like a husband.”
“You are my wife.”
“Was.”
“We never divorced.”
“I married Caleb.”
“Which means what, legally?”
“Do not do this.”
“I need to know what Voss can use.”
“You need to know whether your pride has been injured.”
May you like
Silas went to the window. In the yard, Mae held Jonah’s hand while the farrier let him touch a horseshoe that had cooled. The boy smiled for the first time.
“What did Caleb know about our marriage?” Silas asked.
