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Authors: Christina Cole

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BOOK: KeepingFaithCole
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His head jerked around. “Ma, how did you get here?”


Abner
brought me.”

“And how do you plan to get home again?”

She patted the settee beside her. “Tommy, come sit down, let
me talk to you.”

“If you’re thinking—”

“I know why you’ve done all this.” She waved her hands
around the room. “Getting married, moving all the way out here, making a new
life for yourself. It’s because you’re ashamed of me.”

“Ma, please—”

She held up a hand and silenced him with a sharp look. “Let
me finish. I know I gave you cause for shame. I don’t blame you for hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Well, your wife does, and I can’t blame her either. But
you’ve made me stop to think. You’ve made me take stock, and I’ve made some big
decisions.
Abner
and I are both going to go straight,
Tommy. We’re going to quit drinking.”

Unsure how to respond, Tom nodded. “Glad to hear it,” he finally
said, although he doubted his mother would ever change.

“Drinking is what ruined me, you know. It ruined my life.”
She cleared her throat. “I’ve never really told you how I went so far astray.
Maybe if you knew the whole story, you’d understand me better.”

Tom figured he knew enough. She’d found her parents
slaughtered, hacked to death by a band of savages who didn’t share their
fervent beliefs in one almighty God. What more did he need to know?

“You don’t have to talk about this.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I need to. And you need to
listen.”

To appease his mother, Tom leaned forward. “All right, speak
your piece.”

“After the tragedy, I was sent to live with another family.”

“I know. Reverend Herman and his wife, if I recall
correctly.” He reached for her hand. “You’ve told me this before.”

“But I’ve never told you all of it. The
Hermans
were good folks, and they tried to help me, but I was too hurt, I suppose.”

“You were in a state of shock. I can’t even imagine how
awful it must have been.”

“They were good people, good Christians, and very strict.
Expected me to follow all the rules, do all the right things. But, you know, I
wasn’t ready. I needed time to heal. I got angry. So angry,” she repeated,
clutching at her son’s hand. “I was angry at God for letting such an awful
thing happen, and angry at myself because I couldn’t stop it or change it. And
most of all, I was angry at the
Hermans
for expecting
me to keep believing, for wanting me to get down on my knees every morning and
every night and thank God for all He’d given me.” A tear slipped down her
cheek. “I didn’t have anything to say thanks for. So, I went out of my way to
break every rule the
Hermans
gave me. I stayed out,
started fooling around with the boys in town, and then with grown men, too. The
Hermans
said I’d rot in hell for it and threw me out
of their house. I didn’t care. I figured I could make my own way. That’s when I
started drinking. A few shots of whiskey, and a lot of the hurt went away. A
few more shots, and I couldn’t feel anything anymore. No pain. No sorrow.
Nothing.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder and sobbed.

“Life gave you a rough hand to play. I don’t hold it against
you.”

“Wasn’t long before I was lost, you know. Lost to God, lost
to goodness. I knew I could ever find my way back, so I just kept going. Some
of the men would give me money. Never much, just a few bits here and there.
Enough to buy food. And more whiskey, of course.”

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Gently, he wiped the
tears from her cheek. “You’ve found your way back now, Ma. You’ve found your
way home.”

“I’m going to stay clean and sober, Tom. I know, I’ve said
it before, but before, well, I never had good reason. This time, it’s
different. I’ve got you. And I’ve got Faith.”

“And Lucille,” he added. “She’s your family now, too, and I
don’t want you to forget that.”

“But she hates me,” Charlotte said, her voice turning harsh.

Tom fixed her with a steady gaze. “You locked her in the
storeroom at her shop, then accidentally set the place on fire. It was an
accident, wasn’t it?” He held his breath, still not certain what the true
answer was. Most likely he’d never know.

“Of course it was an accident.”

Tom scratched at his jaw. His mother wasn’t telling him
everything. Much as it pained him to admit it, he suspected Lucille was right.
Ma wanted to move in.

“Are you expecting to stay here with us?” he finally asked.

She lowered her gaze. “Like you said, Tommy, we’re all
family. That’s what we talked about when I came back, don’t you remember? How
we made that pact?” She jumped up and looked around. “You’ve got room here. You
told me all about the place, said there was a big bedroom downstairs, another
little one upstairs. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Yes, but, Lucille and I…” He fell silent, not knowing how to
put his feelings into words, how to explain to his mother that he and his wife
were only now starting out in their marriage. How could he tell her she’d
chosen the worst possible moment to show up on their doorstep?

“What’s Lucille got to do with it? You’re the man of the
house, aren’t you?” She pursed her lips. After a moment of tense silence, she
let out a heavy breath. “I raised you to be strong.”

A sudden fury unleashed itself within him. “You didn’t raise
me to be anything, damn it! You didn’t teach me a thing about being strong, or
anything else for that matter. You never bothered to teach me or Sally about
reading, about writing.” He paused only long enough to catch a breath. “For
years, Ma, all I could do was sign with an X, to make my mark. Do you know how
ashamed that made me?”

“I suppose you had the right to be ashamed of me.” His
mother stared down at the bare floorboards.

“Not you,” Tom contradicted. “Ashamed of myself, ashamed
that I couldn’t read even a simple letter.”

“I know I wasn’t a good mother—”

“Lucille has taught me, Ma.” Tom reached out and lifted her
chin, forcing her to look at him. “My wife has taught me how to read, how to
write, and how to do ciphers, too. She’s made me into the man I’m supposed to
be, the man I’ve always wanted to be. Whatever strength I’ve found comes from
her. I’m a man, and yes, I’m the head of this household, but I’m also a man
who’s got respect for his wife.”

She jerked away and shook her head. “Respect? That’s what
you call it? Well, I see it different, Tommy. You’re not a man. You’ve got no
balls. You’ve taken that little bitch to your bed, and you’ve let her
pussy-whip you.” She walked to the door, opened it, and gestured outside. “My
bags are over there. Bring them in.”

Glancing through the wide front window, he saw several
battered valises resting against the trunk of the old elm tree at the front of
the house. He saw, too, the hope in his mother’s eyes, and he knew—right or
wrong—he couldn’t turn her away.

It didn’t much matter what choice he made. Either way, he’d
pay hell for it. What was a man—a real man—supposed to do?

He closed his eyes thinking maybe this would be a good time
for a few words of prayer, but before he could even utter a single word, he
knew what was right.

Love was right. Always right. Love for home and family. Love
for his wife, his mother, love for Faith. It wasn’t choosing one over the
other. The answer lay in finding a way to love enough to bring them all
together, to love so much that nothing else mattered.

What was that little anecdote Leland had shared once? Too
many people drew circles that excluded others, he’d said. When they did, when
they shut you out, you had to draw a bigger circle, that’s all, one so big and
bold it took them all in, hugged them all together, and refused to let them go.

Taking a deep breath, he made his choice. “You can have the
upstairs bedroom. For now,” he told his mother. “We’ll figure something out.”
The last was spoken more for his benefit than hers. What, exactly, did he
intend to figure out? Other than how to tell his wife that the mother-in-law
she despised was moving in?

 

 

 

Chapter
Sixteen

 

 

Lucille smiled as she served breakfast. The smile remained
intact as she gathered the dishes afterward and set the kitchen to rights. But
the smile was pretense, and nothing in her life would be right ever again.

After a beautiful night of lovemaking she’d thought all her
dreams had come true. Instead, she’d awakened to a nightmare. How cruel life
could be, springing nasty little jokes at the most unexpected times.

She could no longer trust her husband. But, had she ever
truly been able to trust him? All the while she’d thought Tom had changed, it
had been only her misguided perceptions of him. Like so many other women in
Sunset, she’d fallen for his charm, for those damned cute dimples in his
cheeks, and she’d led herself to believe she could make him into the man she
wanted.

Ignoring her mother-in-law, Lucille busied herself that
afternoon with fixing up the little room that adjoined their big bedroom
downstairs. It had been built as a closet, she guessed, but it was big enough
to be used in other ways. With Charlotte in the house, Lucille wanted to keep
Faith close, even when she slept at night.

Especially when she slept at night.

She didn’t trust Charlotte any more than she trusted the
woman’s son.

Long before bedtime, she had the room cleaned, furnished,
and ready to use. Faith’s wooden crib took up part of the room. A small cot
she’d found in one of the outbuildings now sat beside the crib. It might not be
too comfortable, but hopefully it wouldn’t be needed for long.

Surely Tom would come to his senses.

She sat beside him that evening as she did every other
evening, listening as he carefully read a few more pages of scripture. She’d
chosen the passage with care.

Therefore a man
shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two
shall become one flesh…

What a pity his comprehension skills hadn’t improved enough
for him to even get the point!

“I’ll be turning in now,” Lucille said sweetly when their
reading time ended.

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Take your time.” She rose, turned toward Charlotte, and
smiled again. “Good night. I hope you sleep well.” Quickly she fled to the
bedroom she and Tom had shared the night before. The bedroom he expected to
share again.

Lucille slipped into her night clothes, then drew her robe
on. The room felt chilly, or maybe it was only the coldness in her heart that
left her shivering. She sat at the foot of the bed, her eyes on the door.
Nearly an hour passed before she heard Tom’s footsteps. She tightened the belt
on her robe, drew in a deep breath, and rose. As soon as the door opened, she
crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the man she’d married.

“You lied to me.”

He stopped, his hand still on the doorknob. He seemed
uncertain whether he should stay in the room or go out again.

“Lucille, it’s been a long day. I’m not in the mood to
argue” Quietly, he closed the door behind him and took a step toward the bed.
He sat down on the edge, leaned over and pulled off first one boot then the
other.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting undressed. Getting ready for bed.” Tom let out a
long slow breath then grinned up at her. “I was hoping we might have a repeat
performance of last night, but something tells me you’re not too keen on that
idea right now.”

Lucille pressed her lips together, doing her best to remain
calm and to gain control of the emotions running amok inside of her.

“You can’t be serious.” She spat out the words with disgust.
“How could you possibly expect me to…to do…
that
…”
Lucille shook so badly she couldn’t continue speaking.

“You sure seemed to like
that
last night.”

“We were alone last night.”

“We’re alone now.”

“No, we’re not.” The anger she’d fought to hold inside burst
forth. “Your mother is upstairs! And if you think for one moment I’m going to
allow you to touch me…that way…” She shuddered and shook her head. “How dare
you expect me to have marital relations with you while she’s in the same
house.”

“Honey, it’s not going to bother her.” Tom chuckled. “I
don’t usually like to think about it, and it’s really no laughing matter, but
you know how Ma supported herself all those years. It’s not like sex is some
mysterious, sacred act. She’s heard it all, she’s done it all, and a little bed-shaking
isn’t going to upset her.”

“You’re despicable, Tom. You don’t even understand why I’m
upset. You promised me, don’t you remember? When you brought me out to see this
place, you said it would be ours, and now…” She sniffled and wiped tears from
her eyes. “You got what you wanted from me, then immediately turned right
around and gave in to your mother’s pleading. She showed up and you were all
too glad to let her move right in. What, did the two of you have this planned?
How could you do this to me?”

He unbuttoned his shirt, looked up at Lucille, then
shrugged. “I know I said we’d have the place for ourselves, but after Ma showed
up today, I gave it a little more thought and figured I was doing the right
thing. She needs to be with her grandchild. You’ve got no right to deny her
that.”

“You didn’t even discuss it with me first. You never once
asked me how I felt.”

“I didn’t see any need to talk about it. I suspected you
wouldn’t be crazy about the idea.”

“But you went ahead and did it anyway.”

Tom rose, took a step forward, and looked down at Lucille.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m the man of the house, the head of the
family, and I’m the one who makes the decisions around here. I believe when you
married me, you promised to faithfully love, honor, and obey me.”

“I didn’t mean a word of it, and you know that. Nothing
about this marriage is real. I don’t love you,” she said, fighting back the
awful aching in her heart.

“You were lying last night?”

“Yes, I was lonely, Tom, that’s all. Men lie to women all
the time to get their way. Why shouldn’t a woman do the same?”

“I suppose I should be flattered.”

“Don’t be. The truth is, I don’t love you, I won’t honor
you, and I certainly will not obey you.” Pushing past him, she headed for the
door. “I’ll be sleeping in Faith’s room.”

Tom’s arm snaked out and grabbed her around the waist. “Hold
on a minute. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Let go of me.” She tried to move away, but he held her
close beside him.

“Take it easy,” he whispered as she pounded her fists against
his chest. “You’re acting crazy.”

“Are you going to get her out of this house?”

“No, I’m not.” Tom must have known it would be pointless to
continue the argument. He let go of his wife and stepped back. “I did what I
thought was best, Lucille. You might not like it, but that’s how it is.”

“At least we agree on one thing.” She opened the door, then
looked back over her shoulder. “As I said, I’ll be sleeping in Faith’s room.
You might not like it, but that’s how it is, and that’s how it’s going to be as
long as your mother is living in this house.”

 

* * *
*

 

If Lucille had thought for a moment that Tom would change
his mind, she’d been sadly mistaken. By the same token, if Tom expected her to
give in, he was every bit as wrong. Neither had the slightest intention of
backing down, which left them—and their marriage—at a weary stalemate.

Tom always rose early. He was gone before Lucille and Faith
awakened. He kept busy all day, either repairing fences on the property, or
riding out with Gustavo to work on the corrals they were building off to the
west. Rarely did he return until long after sundown.

His mother, however, was a constant fixture in the
farmhouse. As soon as Lucille carried Faith into the kitchen each morning,
Charlotte took the child. She played with Faith, she sang to Faith, she bathed
her, dressed her, fed her, changed her…and did it all with a cheerful smile.

Lucille felt anything but cheerful. On the rare times she
saw her husband, he never spoke to her, never really even looked at her, and the
tension between them grew thicker each day, becoming so tangible it pressed
against her heart like a heavy weight. At times, she struggled to get through
the day, barely able to lift her arms and legs.

“I have to do something, Mama,” she complained one afternoon,
settling into her father’s old chair in the parlor. Unable to tolerate
Charlotte’s constant presence even a moment longer, she’d snatched Faith from
the woman’s arms and driven home to visit her mother.

Sitting on Granny Olive’s lap, Faith giggled and cooed,
delighted by the games of pat-a-cake they played. Lucille wished she could be
so young and carefree again.

“Give it time, honey,” her mother advised.

“Time isn’t going to help. I’m afraid it will only make it
worse.” She’d promised herself she would not break down. Lord knows she didn’t
want to give her mother cause for worry. Despite her efforts to hold them back,
the tears came. “I’ve tried so hard to please Tom. I want to be a good wife,
but everything is a mess. It’s all because of her. I hate her, Mama.”

“You mustn’t talk that way. I know it’s a trial for you, but
in the end, this will make you stronger. It will make your marriage stronger.”

“Our marriage is a joke.” She hadn’t meant to say it.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” her mother counseled, bouncing little
Faith on her knee. “Tom loves you, and even though things are a little rocky
now, it will all work out. That’s how love is.”

“He doesn’t love me.” Lucille’s mind reeled as she
admitted—and accepted—the brutal truth. Not once had her husband ever uttered
those words she so longed to hear. Not even during their passionate lovemaking.

Her mother laughed. “Tom wouldn’t have asked you to marry
him if he didn’t love you.”

What would her mother think if she knew Lucille had been the
one to propose? Tom had only accepted because he wanted something. Of course,
wasn’t that always the reason men gave up their freedom and willingly accepted
the yoke of marriage? They wanted sex, and the best way to get it was to give
love in return. Only it didn’t work that way in their marriage. If Tom wanted
sex, he must be going somewhere else to get it, so why should he bother giving
any love or affection to his wife?

“We got married because of Faith. You know that, Mama.”

“I still say he loves you.”

Lucille broke down and sobbed. “He’s never home, Mama. Every
morning, he’s up at sunrise and gone before I even get out of bed. He saddles
up and rides off, and that’s the last I see of him until dinner.”

“He’s working, isn’t he?”

She grabbed for the handkerchief her mother held out to her,
then wiped her eyes. “He’s talked about catching wild horses in the mountains
somewhere. I suspect it’s all talk, nothing more.”

Her mother threw a disapproving look her way. “Aren’t you
being a little hard on him? He’s got a heavy burden on his shoulders. Maybe you
need to be a little kinder. After all, he’s doing it for you.”

“No, he’s not. He’s doing it for Faith, and for his mother,
not for me. I could disappear tomorrow, and he wouldn’t even notice I were
gone. If he did notice, he wouldn’t care.”

Across the table, her mother’s mouth screwed up in a
confused expression. Lucille wasn’t sure if the woman meant to frown, to scowl,
or if she was simply too puzzled to know what to make of her daughter’s
revelations.

“At night, when Tom gets home, he loves you, doesn’t he?”
Her face colored, and she stared down at the child in her arms. “I mean, you do
have relations?”

“Do you mean sex, Mama?” Lucille chortled. “I don’t even
know what that means anymore. To answer your question, no, we don’t have
relations. My husband never touches me, won’t even look at me.” She left out
the fact that she’d driven him away. She’d been the one to refuse him, but
certainly Mama didn’t need to know all the details. “We don’t even sleep in the
same bed,” she finished on a whisper.

Both remained silent for several moments. Faith jabbered,
clapped her hands together, and giggled. The playful sounds intensified
Lucille’s misery. The little girl knew nothing of the heartache and unhappiness
that filled her home. Thank God, she knew nothing of the anguish and hatred
that dwelled there.

Faith deserved to know only love and happiness.

“I suppose I need to talk to Tom.”

She should have done it long before now. For Faith’s sake.
She should never have let the argument between them go on so long. Difficult
though it would be, she would have to swallow her pride, accept her
mother-in-law, and apologize to the man she’d come to love so deeply.

After leaving her mother’s farmhouse, Lucille drove into
Sunset with Faith. Her spirits had been renewed, her hopes were on the rise,
and she resolved to make a genuine effort to pick up the pieces of their
marriage and fasten them together again.

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