“What did she say?”
“She wants to think about it.”
“So she’s reluctant to break away from Ben.”
“I think Bea Dot should say for herself how she feels,” Will said. He stared at the honey glistening on the biscuit. He took a bite of it and forced it down along with his resentment of the conversation.
Netta put her pudgy hand on top of Will’s and patted it. “I know you mean the best. You always do. But I don’t think you’ve thought this matter through. Bea Dot can’t simply divorce her husband and move to Pineview.”
Annoyed, Will huffed a breath, then said, “I know it won’t be simple. But it’s what we have to do if we want to be together.”
“That’s the problem, though,” Netta continued, leaning as far forward as she could over her mountainous middle. “If she went home and asked for a divorce, with Ben’s volatile temper, he’d likely punish her for it.”
“But I would be there to protect her,” Will persisted. Didn’t he have this same conversation last night? “I wouldn’t let him hurt her.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Netta replied, nodding. “But there’s more to that marriage that you don’t know.
“So I’m told.” Will laughed cynically as he shook his head.
“Did you know that Bea Dot was pregnant?” she asked.
Will straightened at that information. “She’s pregnant?”
“Not now,” Netta shook her head. “She was. Just before she came here.”
Will frowned. “What happened?”
“Ben killed the baby.”
“He what?” How could anyone do that to his own child?
“He hit her and knocked her down, and I don’t know what else. But she lost her baby as a result of his temper.” Netta had picked apart her biscuit into a pile of crumbs. She stared at her fat hands and frowned as she spoke. “If that man’s rage is fierce enough to kill an unborn child, there’s no telling what he might do to Bea Dot if she tries to leave him. And while I admire your valor in wanting to protect her, I question whether you could stop him.”
Will shook his head in disbelief. “You’re right. I didn’t know that.” After a pause, he added, “But that’s even more reason for Bea Dot to leave him. She’d be crazy to go back to that monster.”
“I agree,” Netta said, “which is why she’s here, but you need to know her situation is complicated. Her father died shortly before she married. Within a year, she was with child and then lost it. Bea Dot seemed unaffected by her father’s death, and she hasn’t even mourned the death of her baby. I think so much tragedy at once has been too much for her. She needs time to close one door before she opens another. Does that make sense?”
Will sighed and put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the table. “I suppose so,” he muttered. Then he lifted his eyes to hers. “But what should we do? We love each other. But even if she refuses me, she shouldn’t go back to that man.”
“You’re right,” Netta said, palms on the table. “I can try to reason with her again. My father could help her work out a divorce. But although I’m no lawyer, I’m sure the process will go more smoothly if she were not romantically involved with another man—especially the man whose home she’s living in.”
Will took a swallow of water to cool his resentment and buy a few seconds before responding. Trying to squelch the irritation in his voice, he said, “I’ve hardly been here, Netta. You make us sound as if we’re living as man and wife.”
“I know the truth,” she explained, “but Ben’s attorney will paint a sordid picture if he finds out about you and Bea Dot. And he will find out. But a bitter divorce isn’t the half of it. If Ben finds out about you and Bea Dot, he might come after her. I lost my cousin once, Will. I don’t want to go through that again.”
Will leaned back in his hard-backed chair and stared at the ceiling, wondering at the complication of something that should be so simple. He and Netta sat in silence for a few heartbeats until she spoke up.
“Maybe Bea Dot and I should stay at the camphouse.”
Will couldn’t help laughing at that suggestion. “You know as well as I do that’s the last place you should be.”
Actually, he found her proposal annoying. On the surface she might have been suggesting a solution, but he doubted the sincerity of her offer. As much as she fretted about having her baby at the crossing, there was no way she could be willing to move to Ralph’s one-room shack.
The telephone rang and Will silently thanked the caller for interrupting the conversation. He stepped into the next room and lifted the earpiece from the receiver. “Dunaway’s Crossing.”
“Will? That you?” Harley’s tired voice sounded tinny through the line.
“Yeah, Harley, it’s me.”
“We still need your help. Soon as you can get back, I’d appreciate it.”
Will’s insides turned heavy. He leaned on the wall with one hand as he held the receiver in the other. “I just got here,” he replied.
“I know, but Randall can’t hardly keep up with the workload. I’ve been trying to pitch in, but I got to go back and forth transporting bo—the deceased.”
“All right,” Will answered with defeat in his voice. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Can you get here today?” Harley persisted.
“I said I’ll see what I can do.” Will placed the ear piece on the receiver and stared at the phone. The last thing he wanted was to leave again. But if Pineview needed him and Bea Dot needed her distance, then maybe he should go back to town.
He returned to the kitchen to find Netta washing the breakfast dishes. She turned to face him, a dish rag in her hand. “I was thinking while you were on the phone,” she said. “Maybe Bea Dot and I could stay with the Taylors. I know it would be an imposition, but we’ll need Eliza’s help anyway.”
Will’s frustration softened at Netta’s proposal. This was the first time he’d heard her express any acceptance of giving birth without Ralph. That had to have been a hard offer to make. He took the rag from her and dried the last dish.
“No need for that,” he said. “I have to go back to town. You two stay here. That way, Bea Dot can mind the store for me.”
“Is the epidemic worse?” she asked, her eyebrows knotted.
“I’ll find out when I get there.” He put the dish back in the cupboard, then reached for his coat. He slid his hand into the pocket, expecting to find his bandana. Instead, his fingers found the small envelope the stationmaster had given him. He pulled it out and held it up. “I meant to give this to Bea Dot yesterday afternoon. What with the bobcat and all, it slipped my mind. Would you give it to her?”
Netta took the telegram from him. “Of course.”
“I’ll stay in Pineview as long as Harley needs me. When I come back, I’ll stay at the camp house.”
“Now, Will,” Netta protested, “that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t trying to run you out of your own home.”
He held up his hand to stop her. “I know, I know. Still I think it’s best.” Will cared less about propriety than Netta did, but if Bea Dot needed her distance, he’d give it to her.
Netta sighed and rubbed her eyes before turning them to his. “I’ll try to convince Bea Dot to contact my father. Maybe he can speak to Ben on her behalf.”
“Thank you,” Will replied. “I’ll talk to the Taylors, let them know you’re on your own again. And if you run low on anything, please phone the operator in town. Get word to me, and I’ll have supplies sent out to you. I won’t have you ladies going without.”
Netta assured him she would follow his instructions, and he left the kitchen. With aching heart, he gathered a few belongings from his storage room before walking out to the barn and hitching Buster to his wagon. Then he drove it onto the dirt road and steered toward Pineview.
#
2:15
Bea Dot bolted upright in the bed after reading the time on the small clock on her bedside table. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever slept so late; then again, she had watched the sun rise and light the sky. She hadn’t expected to sleep at all, so this late slumber was a welcome surprise.
As she stood and stretched, the skin on her shoulders ripped at her. The medicine’s effect had worn off. Carefully, she dressed, washed her face, and pinned her hair. She took more time than usual this morning, eager to see Will on the other side of the door.
As she lay awake revisiting her encounter with him, she’d had to pinch herself multiple times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. So that was why all the women in Savannah swooned over those dime novels. Her only regret was that she’d turned Will down when he’d proposed. Well, she didn’t really turn him down, but she didn’t accept. And he’d looked so heartbroken. She’d let her fear of Ben, fear of her past, keep her from grasping what she wanted. But during the night, she’d wondered how California would advise her, even imagining Cal’s own words:
You got a kind, strong, handsome man that love you. Child, don’t you let him get away
.
She’d kept her vile secret from everybody. And now she knew Will had his too. They could simply keep their pasts private. Even if Ben divulged the truth—what he thought was the truth—about her pregnancy, she’d simply explain what Netta had concluded, that Ben had taken advantage of her, so she had to marry him. If Netta believed that, Will would believe it too. Still, she hoped the subject would never come up.
Today she would find a private moment to talk to Will and make plans for the future. She smiled at herself in the mirror before stepping into the warm kitchen, which was empty, but Netta’s voice drifted in from the adjacent store. She must have been helping a customer. Bless her heart, Bea Dot thought, minding the store so I could sleep. Netta had a soft spot after all.
As she approached the cast-iron stove to pour a cup of tea, she spied a yellow envelope on the table leaning against a salt shaker. Her name was typed on it. Sensing it was from Ben, she opened it carefully, as if a snake might jump out:
1918 OCTOBER 20 AM 0825
MRS BENJAMIN FERGUSON
PINEVIEW, GA
YOU WERE DUE HOME TWO WEEKS AGO STOP
RETURN IMMEDIATELY STOP =
Irritated, Bea Dot ripped the document into small pieces, then threw them in the stove. How dare he order her home? How could she travel back to Savannah with Netta in her condition and influenza raging across Georgia? Surely he realized how dangerous the trip would be, not only for herself, but for Netta as well. But then, Ben never worried about her safety. She’d reply to the telegram explaining her inability to return to Savannah, but she’d have to write Uncle David today ask how she could go about dissolving her marriage.
Finding no pen or paper in the kitchen, Bea Dot entered the store to write her reply before calling the telegraph office. She found Netta handing over a small stack of mail to Birdie Henderson.
“Well, look who’s here. Good morning, sunshine,” Netta sang. Though her voice was cheerful, her eyes showed the strain of carrying a tremendous burden. Would that baby ever come?
“Good morning,” Bea Dot replied. She turned to Birdie Henderson holding her parcel of envelopes. “Will didn’t deliver the mail to you today?”
Netta touched Bea Dot’s upper arm with a consoling expression on her face. “Will had to leave, dear. He went back to town.”
“Oh?” Bea Dot’s heart fell to her feet. “I didn’t realize. Why did he go back?”
“Pritchett and Harley needed his help,” she said, her hand still on Bea Dot’s arm, rubbing it up and down. She cocked her head to one side in what might have been sympathy, but Bea Dot suspected smugness instead.
How could Will leave without saying goodbye? Was he angry because she’d put him off last night? He didn’t seem angry when she’d left him. Maybe Netta had convinced him to go. As soon as the notion crossed her mind, she latched onto it, and anger simmered within her. Will would not have just left her unless someone convinced him to. And it was just like Netta to meddle.
“I need some paper and a pen. I must send a telegram home.” Trying to hide her disappointment from Mrs. Henderson, she turned to search the workspace behind the counter. She pressed her lips and breathed deeply and evenly. How could she talk to him now? How could she reach him to tell him her decision? What if he caught the flu before she could tell him? Damn that Netta!
Spying a note pad and a pen on the back shelf, she scribbled a reply to Ben until she’d regained her composure: “Influenza makes return impossible. Letter follows.” Then she walked to the phone, picked up the ear piece, and turned the crank. No one answered.
“They say the whole town’s come down with flu,” Birdie Henderson said. “Good thing we’re out in the country. Hope it doesn’t spread out here.” Then noticing Netta’s worried expression, she quickly added, “I’m sure Doc Coolidge has the whole thing under control.”
Frowning, Bea Dot put the ear piece on the hook, then picked it up again. After turning the crank a second time, she heard only the repeated buzz of the telephone ringing at the other end.
“What’s wrong, Bea Dot?” Netta asked.
“The operator isn’t picking up,” she said, trying for a third time to turn the crank. “I’ve never known that to happen before.”
Birdie Henderson piped up. “Oh, Charlotte’s a wonderful operator. Takes her job very seriously.”