The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove (39 page)

“You would do that? What kind of men are you?” Nathan ground out.

A small part of Gus felt sorry for the man. He must be feeling pretty flaccid right about now. But—

Gus’s thoughts were interrupted by Will’s fiercely cold tone. “We’re the kind of men who don’t steal other men’s wives,” he said. “We’re the kind of men who own up to our mistakes and do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it’s ‘inconvenient.’ So what’s it going to be?”

Nathan didn’t respond and for a long minute Gus and Will waited silently while the young man glared at them. Gus was on the verge of grabbing the pup by his lapels when finally, as if he couldn’t hold any more air, Nathan let out a long breath. He nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Smart man,” Will said lightly. “Now Gus here would like some time to reconnect with Mattie and his daughter,
alone
. So you and I are going to get them and bring them here. Understood?”

The young man nodded again; he’d finally gotten it into his thick skull how much worse things could have been. Inside, Gus heaved a huge sigh of relief. After all those days and nights of wanting to punch out his frustration at the way his life had gone, he’d suddenly lost the will to lash out anymore. Now all he wanted to do was finish his business here and get back to Lia, before she sailed away.

A few minutes later the door to the parlor opened and Mattie came in holding a little boy by the hand who looked to be on the young side of five. Even though she was wearing a dark gray dress, Mattie still looked like a fresh-picked jumbo peach; ranch life clearly agreed with her. Annabelle stood shyly next to her, a tall, sturdy girl of eight, dressed in a pretty pink pinafore with a matching bow in her soft blonde ringlets. She wore a little bracelet from which a small gold nugget sparkled.

“Gus, this is my son, Nathaniel August Jones. We call him Nate.”

Gus tore his eyes from Annabelle. He glanced at Mattie, surprised. She’d named her son after him? She must have honestly thought he’d died. The little boy had his father’s light brown hair. He rested his head on his mother’s leg as he watched Gus with sleepy blue eyes.

“And…and of course, this is your Annabelle.” She didn’t have to coax the little girl forward; Annie seemed to be a confident little thing.

“Are you my dada, come back from the dead?” She stood in front of him, looking directly up at him and saying the words with more curiosity than emotion.

Gus squatted down to meet her at her level, his own eyes pooling with tears. “Yes, I’m your dada, Annabelly, but I was never dead. I just…had to be away for a long, long time, is all.”

His daughter continued to examine him, reaching over at one point to trace the cleft in his chin and then touch her own. She then looked directly at his eyes, the same color as hers. “We look the same,” she said.

It took all of Gus’s control not to crush her to him. All those years of wondering, the agony of not knowing, fell away. He wasn’t a prayin’ man, but he made a mental note to thank God for watching over his little girl, keeping her healthy and happy and safe. “Yes we do look the same, although you are much prettier than I am.”

Annabelle giggled. “That’s what Papa Nathan says too. He says he’s gonna need a big ole stick to chase off all the little boys who will want to kiss me, but I just tell him he’s a silly willy.” She put her hands on her hips. “I will not have time for boys because I am going to be a fairy princess one day…or maybe a teacher.”

Gus swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t doubt it,” he said gently. “You can be anything you want to be. But your…Papa Nathan is right about those little boys. He might just need to keep that stick.” He looked up and saw Mattie watching him, tears escaping her eyelids.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Gus, I really thought—”

Gus stood up straight. His mind reached for the anger and resentment toward Mattie that should have been inside of him, but he just couldn’t find it. She’d been duped just the same as him, and he didn’t doubt that she’d grieved him, at least for a little while. Instead, he felt a sort of calmness, as if all the tumblers had finally clicked into place and things were the way they ought to be. “I have something for Annabelle and Little Nate, if you don’t mind,” he said to ease Mattie’s discomfort.

She smiled and said to her son, “Mr. Gus has something for you. Would you like that?” Nate nodded and smiled shyly. She gestured to the bag that Gus had brought so far and kept for so long.

“Go ahead and see what’s inside,” Gus said. Nate reached inside the sack and began to pull out the blocks that his old friend Shorty had made, back in the Klondike. He immediately began to stack them up. Gus squatted down next him. “You see, if you stack them one way, they make a house, and another way they make a tree. Or you can do your numbers or your letters,” he explained. He stood up again and turned to Mattie. “I trust they won’t be too heavy this time around.”

Mattie pressed her lips together as if to keep from crying.

Gus then handed the brightly wrapped gift box to Annabelle.

“For me?” Annabelle asked, her eyes round as gold coins.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Open it up.”

Annabelle opened the box carefully and pulled out an exquisite porcelain doll, complete with gold ringlets, dark eyes that blinked, and a lovely pink and white dress with tiny white socks and shiny black shoes. The doll came with several colorful outfits, all hand sewn.

“Oh Mama, look!” she cried. She showed her mother the doll before turning impetuously back to Gus and reaching up to him with the doll in her hand, reminding him of the times when as a toddler she’d insisted he pick her up. He leaned down to her and she grabbed him around his neck and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you thank you thank you, Dada,” she sang into his neck.

He couldn’t help it; he held her tight and breathed deeply of her fresh, soapy smell. She was his little girl and he was hugging her again at last.

After a moment, Gus looked up at Mattie. He could tell she remembered the other doll from Annabelle’s first birthday. “I gave it back to Janey Fortuna,” he murmured. “Bill struck it big the next year, took his family back to Illinois where I heard he’s got a big spread. They made it through okay.”

Mattie bit her lip and nodded. Gus couldn’t help but wonder if she ever had second thoughts about giving up the ghost too soon. By the way she looked at Nathan, Gus figured those thoughts, if she had them, didn’t last long. He could tell she was happy. And it surprised him that knowing she was satisfied made him happy too.

Mattie got her emotions under control and told the children to go show “Papa” what Gus had given them. After they left, she turned to Gus. “What happens now?” Her voice held a touch of trepidation.

Gus motioned for her to sit down. “I can’t pretend it didn’t make me mad as hell to hear that Bethany Jones had lied and thrown me off your trail so many years ago. But I am sorry your friend died before her time.”

“Thank you,” Mattie said, reaching for a handkerchief in her apron pocket and wiping her eyes. “I remember Bethany coughing a lot from the first time I knew her,” she explained. “I guess sometimes there’s a lung weakness that just keeps getting worse.”

“But Nathan and you and…the children are all fine?”

“Yes, fit as fiddles. We all expected Nathan’s father to go first because he’s been so weak the last several years. Who knows, maybe Bethany wore herself out taking care of him. We all have our crosses to bear, I suppose. But Nathan’s done a real good job running the Double J. He has a real talent for it.”

Gus could hear the pride in her words. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said.

Mattie twisted the piece of linen in her hand. She was obviously worried about what Gus intended for her and little Annabelle.

“I’m not gonna turn you in as a bigamist, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he assured her. “But you’re gonna have to do what my partner Will in there says, so that we can get the divorce finalized as soon as possible.”

The relief on her face was plain as day. “Yes, yes, of course. Anything you need us to do. We’re just grateful you…you aren’t going to make a big fuss about it. I mean, going to the papers and all.”

Gus shook his head. “I don’t want that kind of hullaballoo either, believe me. But I do want to get it done. I…I met someone and I aim to marry her.”

“Oh, Gus, that’s wonderful.” Mattie reached out to touch his hand. “I’m happy for you. What’s her name?”

“Amelia. Amelia Starling. I call her Lia. She’s…well, she’s soon going to be a very, very famous painter.” His own pride wrapped itself around his words.

Mattie smiled. “I guess you did it,” she said. “You did what you set out to do. And now you’ve got a whole new life and it sounds to be a pretty fancy one. Good for you, Gus.” Her voice held no trace of irony or bitterness. He could tell she genuinely admired what he’d done, but held no envy or jealousy about it. Yes, the tumblers were all falling into place.

Except for the question of Annabelle. “About our daughter,” he began.

The joy drained from Mattie’s face. She must know he could easily take their daughter from her; he had both money and the law on his side. She had, after all committed a crime.

“I want to be able to see her at least once a year, maybe in the summer when you don’t have school. And I want to be able to come and visit whenever I please. And I want to be the one to pay for her education so she can be whatever she damn well wants to be…even if it’s a fairy princess.” His lips twitched as he made the last condition and he was rewarded with a similar reaction from Mattie.

“Under the circumstances, that is more than fair,” she said, letting out a breath she’d probably been holding for way too long. “You are a good man, August Wolff. But then, I always knew that.”

Gus nodded his thanks. “Shall we rejoin the others? I want to make sure we’re all clear on the basics. My partner’s going to stay on and work up the papers for your signatures, but I’ve gotta train to catch and, well…”

“I understand,” Mattie said. She rose and turned to the door, but Gus caught her hand and pulled her into an embrace. They both chuckled at her protruding belly that kept a space between them.

“I remember,” he whispered. “And Mattie? Thank you for not letting Annabelle forget me. It would have been easy to let her think your man Nathan was her father.”

Mattie leaned back to catch Gus’s eyes. “I couldn’t have done that,” she said. “Every time I see little Annie, I see you. Not so much in the way she looks, but in the way she carries herself. Confident. Smart. Ready to take on the next challenge that comes along. The way I see it, even though you and I weren’t meant to be, we sure did make something downright beautiful together.”

“We surely did,” he said, giving her a slight squeeze before letting her go. “I thank you for keeping her that way, and though I never figured I’d say it, I appreciate what your Nathan’s done too. I’d like to hate him, but I can see he’s a good man so I’ll let him keep his pearly whites a little longer.”

Mattie smiled at him and they opened the door of the little side parlor. They were greeted by Will and Nathan while relatives and friends who had come to pay their respects were distracted by the children playing with their new treasures. Gus caught Will’s attention and motioned for him to go outside. Paying his respects to both Nathan and his father, Gus quickly left and walked over to his horse. He rapidly checked his saddle and tightened the girth for the ride back to town.

“Everything all right?” Will asked. “You don’t look like you’re about to turn anyone into your own personal punching bag.”

Gus smiled grimly. “Not the occasion for it. Besides, I think I am all right. They’ll do what they need to do to make this right—I told her you’d be seein’ the process through. You know what I’m after.” At Will’s nod, Gus stopped and clapped his friend and colleague on the shoulder. “I owe you…more than I can say. You did what all those Pinkertons couldn’t do. You found my little girl. Seeing her, knowing she’s all right, it’s just—” His voice began to break, so he stopped.

“Well, hell yes, you owe me,” Will said jovially. “I expect a steak dinner every week for at least a month.”

Gus smiled slightly, not quite ready to make light of things. “I mean it, friend. Anything.”

Will nodded and clapped Gus on the arm as well. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now if I’m not mistaken you’ve got a train to catch—” he pulled out his pocket watch “—in just about twenty-five minutes.” He frowned. “It’s going to be tight.”