KeepingFaithCole (28 page)

Nothing—except maybe an
unfaithful husband.

Tom hadn’t come home yet.

Lucille knew exactly where
he was. The Red Mule saloon. Earlier, Emily Sue Phillips had let that bit of
information slip. Of course, the pretty seventeen-year-old already had a
reputation as a nuisance and a trouble-maker. The sweet little blonde thrived
on stirring things up.

Kat had thrown her sister a
fierce look, a clear warning to keep quiet, and not long afterward, their
mother had bustled up both of her daughters and insisted it was time for them
all to be getting home.

Time for Tom to be getting
home too.

Lucille sighed. At least
little Faith had closed her eyes now and drifted off to sleep. The stillness,
however, only made Lucille’s loneliness more acute. She could practically hear
the frantic thoughts pounding through her head.

Questions, questions, questions!
Who was Tom with? What was he doing? Most painful of all were the whys. Why
couldn’t he love her? Why wouldn’t he forgive her? Why wouldn’t he come to her
and take her to his bed again?

She waited up until almost midnight. Finally she headed for
bed and once again cried herself to sleep.

* * *
*

Bacon frying and coffee
brewing on the stove.

As the delicious aromas
wafted into his room, Tom opened his eyes. A slow, easy smile slid across his
face. One of these mornings, he should tell Lucille how much he liked her
cooking, especially the hearty breakfasts she served. He knew that when he went
into the kitchen, he’d find not only bacon, but a plate of biscuits along with
a tub of sweet, freshly-churned butter. Eggs, too. Over easy. Just the way he liked.

He should tell her, too,
that he was sorry for the rift between them. He’d hoped to teach her a lesson
and help her see that throwing tantrums wasn’t the best strategy to employ, but
she’d proved more stubborn than he’d expected. Sleeping alone for the past
week, he’d come to realize how much he loved Lucille. He was
almost
, but not quite, ready to declare
his feelings. He needed a little encouragement from her.

“Morning,” he called when he
stepped into the kitchen. Lucille stood at the stove, her back to him. She
didn’t respond to his greeting. “Excuse me,” he said, coming up behind her.
“Shouldn’t a good wife listen when her husband talks to her?”

Her breath came out in a
huff, and she whirled around. “Don’t start it, Tom.”

“Start what?”

“I’m in no mood for any of
your jokes.”

“So I see. Confound it, but
what’s got your panties in such a wad this morning?” He raked his fingers
through his hair. “Is it that time of the month or what?”

She sucked in another deep
breath. “How dare you speak to me about something so…so…personal. It’s none of
your business,” she snapped, turning back to the stove.

“I don’t necessarily agree
with you on that, but never mind. Under the circumstances, it’s not worth
arguing over.” His good mood draining away, he retreated to the table, pulled
out a chair, and settled into it. “How’s the weather look?”

Lucille shrugged. “How am I
supposed to know?”

“Well, you could open the
door and check.”

“Is there some reason you
can’t do it yourself?”

“Fine.” Tom got up, opened
the back door, and peered out. “You sure as hell wouldn’t know it from the way
things are going inside this kitchen, but I suspect this is going to turn out
to be a nice day. A good day for catching horses, at least.”

“That’s all you ever think
of, isn’t it?” Lucille carried a plate of eggs to the table. “You’ll be gone
again all day, Faith and I will be home alone, and it’s obvious you don’t care
about either one of us.”

His jaw dropped. “Honey,
everything I do is for you and Faith.”

“Right. That’s why you’ve
moved us all the way out here, hours from town, and then you go off day after
day, chasing after wild horses, or so you say.”

“What are you getting at?”
His eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think it’s horses
you’re chasing, Tom Henderson. And don’t talk to me about how worn out you’ve
been from building corrals or whatever else you claim to have been doing.” She
crossed her arms over her chest.

Taking his seat again, he
followed suit and crossed his arms. Two could play this game. “If you’ve got
something on your mind, woman, speak up, damn it.”

“Watch your language. I
don’t want Faith to hear that sort of talk.”

“She’s still sleeping, isn’t
she?”

“Yes, of course, but cursing
is a bad habit. You need to learn to control it…along with a few other urges.”
Lucille moistened her lips, then lowered her gaze. “Where were you last night?”

He’d been with Goose and
Ignacio going over their final plans. They’d had a few drinks, and he’d gotten
home later than he’d intended, but no reason to make a big deal over it. He
picked up a fork, stabbed at the eggs, then pushed the plate aside. He’d lost
his appetite. One thing he would not tolerate was a jealous shrew of a wife who
didn’t trust him out of her sight.

“I don’t see where it’s any
of your business.” He pushed out his chair and got to his feet.

“I’m your wife, Tom,” she said. He sensed that it took great
effort for her to keep her voice controlled. “I have a right to know where you
go.”

“Oh, darling,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Don’t be
talking to me about rights. A husband ought to have a few rights, too, but you
don’t seem to have any problem denying me my marital privileges.”

“Is that why you’re chasing after those saloon girls?” The
words shot out in a strident staccato. Lucille’s body shook from top to toe.

Too angry to deny her accusations, Tom remained silent.

“I know you went to the Red Mule last night.”

“You’re right.”

“And I’m not a fool. I can guess what you were doing there.”

“Guess all you want, honey.”

“Which one are you…doing it with, Tom?” She choked back
sobs.

He grinned. “What makes you think I’d settle for one? I’m a
man with big appetites.” He stared down at the breakfast table, regretting that
he couldn’t manage to swallow even a bite of the fine meal Lucille had fixed.

“No wonder I can’t satisfy you.”

Tom grabbed her elbow as she turned away. “Since when have
you bothered to try?”

“Let go of me.”

He released her and stepped back. “Sorry, darling. I forgot
how much you hate my touch.”

“You come to me after you’ve been with those cheap floozies
at the saloon? You dare lay a hand on me? Just get out of my sight, Tom. I’ve
got no use for you. You’ve brought me and Faith out here to this sorry excuse
for a horse farm, and don’t tell me things are going to get better. They’re
not. We’re as poor as Job’s turkey, yet you think it’s fine to spend what
little money we have on whiskey and other women.” She turned and glared at him.
“I’m sorry I married you.”

“It was your idea, darling. I tried to talk you out of it.”

“I should have listened.” She stormed toward the stairway. “I’ve
had enough. I’m taking Faith, and I’m leaving you. And this time, I’m not
letting you stop me, so don’t even try.”

Tom shook his head. To think, a short time earlier, he’d
been ready to declare his undying love for this woman. The barrage of insults she’d
hurled at him cut him to the quick. All his efforts had been in vain. Lucille
would never love him. Maybe the best thing would be to let her go. Maybe, in
time, he’d get over it. Maybe the hurting would eventually go away.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and headed for the door, but
his pride wouldn’t let him walk away so easily. “I don’t need you, Lucille, so
just get the hell out of my life and leave me alone.”

“What about Faith? I’m taking her with me.” Lucille came
after him as he opened the door. “Don’t you care?”

Once more, she was bluffing, Tom knew. She had no intentions
of leaving him. For her sake, he almost wished she would. Maybe at least one of
them could be happy. But he had too much else on his mind to deal his wife’s
manipulations. After coming home so late last night, he’d gotten little sleep,
and he had a hell of a long day ahead of him.

Ignoring Lucille, he returned to the kitchen, stuffed a few
biscuits and a bit of beef jerky into a cloth sack, then headed for the barn.
Once he’d saddled Dandy, he thought about going back inside, maybe even
apologizing, but damn it, the morning would be all but gone before he met up
with Goose and Ignacio. It was nearly a two-hour ride to the valley where
they’d seen the horses.

We’ll talk later.

He glanced toward the back door, saw no sign of Lucille
watching, and with a lonely, unsettled feeling, he swung up into the saddle and
rode off toward the west.

* * *
*

Lucille busied herself at
the kitchen sink, scraping away the eggs Tom had left on the plate. For once,
she was
not
going to stand at the
window watching as he rode off. Neither was she going to keep an eye on the
door, waiting for him to return. She had too much to do to waste even a single
moment.

With the dishes finished,
she hurried to the little room where Faith slept.

“Well, little one, let’s get
this day started,” she said as she lifted Faith from her crib.

“Da-da?” Faith turned her
head from side to side. “Da-da?”

“Don’t worry about your
Da-da. He’ll be back later,” Lucille snapped. Immediately she felt contrite.
She didn’t mean to speak so roughly, but after that awful row she’d had with
Tom, her emotions were raw. Faith’s unconditional love for the man she called
her
Da-da
, cut into Lucille’s heart.
She
loved him, too, but knew she’d finally
pushed him over the brink. Whereas Faith would have his undying love, Lucille
had lost any chance of ever having a happy marriage.

But she would not leave her
husband. She’d taken a vow when she’d married him, and she meant to see it
through.

For better. For worse.

Already breaking her rule
about not watching, she carried Faith to the window and stared out toward the
west where the distant peaks of the mountains glistened in the early morning
light.

“You’d like for me to leave,
wouldn’t you” she asked aloud. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right
here, and we’ll just have to make the best of it.” She hugged Faith close.
“Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Faith’s playful giggles were
contagious. The happy sound lifted Lucille’s spirits. Her own renewed
determination helped brighten her mood, as well. She and Tom had married for
the best reason of all—love. It wasn’t the love of a man and woman for one
another, but a deeper, stronger sort of love. They had married because of their
love for Faith. Now, despite the problems between them, that love would keep
them together.

Putting aside any troubling
thoughts, Lucille set about her busy day. After washing, dressing, and feeding
Faith, she carefully assembled pillows, blankets, and the toddler’s favorite
toys, and set her on the rug in the parlor. It was already the first week of
April, and Lucille hadn’t yet finished the spring cleaning. She’d made a start,
but her list of things to do was far from complete. Today, she planned to pull
everything out of the cupboard, line the shelves with fresh paper, then
reorganize the contents more efficiently. Next, she’d give all the pots, pans,
and even her set of good dishes, a thorough washing. She’d polish the silver,
too, if time allowed.

But an hour later, despite
her good intentions, she’d made no real progress. Faith kept crawling across
the floor to get in the way. She lifted her arms, wanting to be picked up and
held. She didn’t understand the importance of cleaning away the soot, grease,
and grime of winter. All that mattered to her was getting a little attention.

“How am I ever going to get
my work finished?” Lucille bent down and swept Faith up.

The sound of a wagon pulling
into the front yard caught Lucille’s attention. It wasn’t Tom, of course. Her
mother would be in town at the shop, so she wouldn’t be coming to call.

Which left only one other
logical possibility.

Lucille threw open the door
and sighed. “Good morning, Charlotte,” she said as her mother-in-law climbed
down from the wagon. In her hands she held a small basket covered with a
gingham cloth. Lucille eyed it with a mixture of surprise and misgivings.

“What have you got there?”

“Cookies.” She stayed close
beside the wagon. “Lucille, please, let me come in. We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“About everything. About all
that’s wrong between us.”

One sharp retort after
another lined up, ready to shoot out of Lucille’s mouth, but the honesty in her
mother-in-law’s eyes made it impossible for her to say a word.

Charlotte hefted the basket.
“Lemon cookies. They’re still warm.” She stood before Lucille as though waiting
to be sentenced—or pardoned.

In a moment of graciousness,
Lucille stepped forward. “Here, take Faith. I’ll carry the basket.”

With awkward movements, the
two women managed to exchange the burdens they carried. Faith was safely
shifted from one set of arms to another, and the basket of cookies was
transferred without being dropped.

“I’ll set these in the
kitchen.”

“Wait, hear me out first.”
Charlotte’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what you think of me, but I’m going to
show you that I can change. I
have
changed,”
she corrected. She hugged Faith closer. “I’ll do whatever I must, Lucille. I
want to be with my grandbaby. Please give me another chance.”