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Authors: Janet Tronstad

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Edith had a thick coat on and it must have had a big pocket because she pulled a handful of tissues out of it. “Conrad sent these over. I didn’t have room for the box.”

Katrina reached over and took the tissues. “I don’t usually cry like this, it’s just—”

“I know,” Edith said. “Conrad told me.”

Katrina shook her head. “I’m kind of used to waiting to hear about the cancer. It was the sermon today that got to me. I never should have gotten that close to a church. At least, not when it was being used.”

Edith smiled. “God is Someone to be reckoned with all right.”

“He should mind His own business,” Katrina snapped as she dabbed away at her cheeks. Then she looked over at her friend. She couldn’t believe the older woman had sat down with her; no one had cared enough to do that in a long time. “I’ve been thinking that it’s not God I’m mad at so much. It’s me. It’s always been me.”

“You?” Edith asked.

Katrina nodded. “I was excited for my parents to go on their mission trip. They seemed so happy and everyone in the church made such a fuss over them. I felt special just being their daughter. But then I thought I was old enough, I should have known something horrible could happen. I used to think if I had been upset, if I had begged them not to go, they wouldn’t have gone. My sister was too young. She wouldn’t have known anything about the bad things that could happen. But for a long time, I thought I should have known for all of us. I felt it was my fault Leanne had to grow up without our parents. No wonder we don’t get along. It’s always been there between us. I tried to take their place at first, but I couldn’t.”

“Oh, child,” Edith murmured. “It wasn’t your fault. None of us know the future.”

“It still feels that way,” Katrina said. “I could have changed everything. If only I’d asked them not to go.”

“Hush now,” Edith said and put her arms around Katrina.

Gradually, she rested against the older woman’s shoulder. They sat that way for several minutes. Light rain was starting to fall and the sky had grown dark. A light wind was blowing through, too.

“Do you mind if I pray for you about this?” Edith asked finally. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to, but God can—”

“I know,” Katrina said as she sat up straighter. “And, no, I don’t mind. I think it’s time I made my peace with Him anyway.”

“He does love you,” Edith agreed softly. “You’re His precious child. He wept when you wept.”

For the first time in many years, Katrina could hear those words and not feel the protest growing inside her.

“Maybe He does love me.” She accepted the words for the gift they were.

As the two women sat there, with their heads bowed and their hands clasped together, Katrina knew peace. Just telling someone was healing. She had come home. What had been lost to her was restored. Maybe now she’d be able to join a church family again. She’d sorely missed having one. She’d even give up her vow of not going inside a church.

And then she remembered.

“I’m sorry if Conrad was upset,” Katrina said stiffly. She hadn’t expected him to stand with her. Not really. Not when she might be sick.

“Give him some time,” Edith said softly. “He just can’t—”

“I know,” Katrina said as she got her legs untangled and stood up. She held out a hand to help Edith up. “And it’s all right.”

The words sounded hollow to her ears; she didn’t have the nerve to look at Edith’s expression to see if the older woman believed her. She hadn’t really expected to find a man who loved her here. Maybe it was enough that God cared. Maybe, after she talked to the doctor in a few months, she could come back. Maybe Conrad would come to care for her then if she’d had a good report from the doctor.

Chapter Eleven

C
onrad sat at the card table in the middle of his dining room with a spoon in one hand and a can of pork and beans in the other. One of the windows was open and sawdust was blowing around. Not that he cared enough to get up and shut the window. The beans were tasteless anyway.

Conrad had left church before people had started coming out. He’d written a note telling his aunt about Katrina and saying he was sorry that he wouldn’t be able to join them for Sunday dinner today. He’d collared one of the Bowman kids who was skipping out on the final hymn and asked him to give the note to Aunt Edith. Then Conrad had come back to his construction zone of a house.

He looked around. Usually, he got a great deal of satisfaction at seeing how he was remodeling this old house. He’d moved walls to make it all feel spacious; he’d opened up the windows to make it brighter. The
materials he was using were all natural and he believed it would be a place of beauty and harmony someday.

He had hoped to live a long, sweet life in this house with his wife.

Now he didn’t care.

He thought he heard someone walking on the plywood in the living room. He must have left his door open. That wasn’t like him. The footsteps sounded like someone in boots so he wasn’t surprised to see his uncle step into the room.

“Heard you passed up Edith’s Sunday dinner,” Uncle Charley said as he held out a plate with a napkin draped over it. “I brought you some of the fried chicken and mashes potatoes anyway. Some carrots, too. However, Edith said if you wanted a piece of the blueberry pie you would have to come over to the house and get it.”

“I’ll be passing on the pie then,” Conrad said as he reached out and took the plate. He set it down on the table. “But thanks for this.”

There was silence for a minute or two while Conrad studied his boots and his uncle took a good look at him.

Finally, Uncle Charley grunted. “You didn’t even take the napkin off that dinner. Fried chicken is your favorite.”

Conrad nodded.

“Listen, I know you were surprised to hear that Katrina might be sick, but—”

“I can’t spend any more time around her,” Conrad interrupted.

“But I thought she was the one for you. I thought you were starting to like her.”

“I was.” Conrad stood up in his chair and looked his uncle square in his eyes. “That’s why I need to stop seeing her. What if she dies?”

“Ah,” the older man said as he stepped close and put his hand on Conrad’s shoulders. “I know it’s hard, son. But a man can’t love any woman without risking that he’ll lose her. If you give your heart, it can be broken. In more ways than just someone dying. That’s just the way it is in this life.”

Conrad shook his head. “I’m going to ask Tracy out.”

“But you don’t love her.”

Conrad nodded. “That’s why I’m asking her out. She’s safe.”

He stopped looking at his uncle. He didn’t like to see the distress on the man’s face. He knew his uncle meant well, but there was nothing he could say to change Conrad’s mind.

“Looks like it’s going to rain some,” Uncle Charley finally said as he started to walk back to the door. “See that you keep the windows closed here. You don’t want any of your new wood to get warped.”

Conrad nodded. “Thanks for the chicken.”

“I’ll see if Edith will relent and let me bring a piece of pie over later,” the older man said as he left the room.

Conrad was relieved to be alone again. He stood up and went over to the windows. He’d close them up and then go change into his work clothes. He never worked on Sunday, but he hoped God wouldn’t mind if he replaced that muffler this afternoon. Katrina’s sister should be coming soon. He knew Katrina couldn’t
leave yet because of the church directory photos scheduled for tomorrow. But he wanted the car to be ready to go as soon as the sisters were.

He would be fine, he told himself. He might feel bad now, but his feelings couldn’t have grown that deep. Not in a couple of days. In a few months, he’d be back to normal. Everything would be okay. His calendar woman would be nothing more than an amusing story he’d tell once in a while for the mere pleasure of hearing it.

 

At the Nelsons’ home, Katrina took the last plate off the dish drainer and started drying it with one of Edith’s white kitchen towels. “Next time you need to let me wash as well as dry.”

The older woman shook her head. “I can still wash my own dishes. You’re company here, you know.”

“Well, when you put on a dinner like you did, someone else should do the dishes,” Katrina said. “I haven’t had real fried chicken like that since—well, I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten any so good.”

Edith beamed. “You should go take a rest when we finish up here. The boys are napping with Charley so your time’s your own.”

Katrina added a dried plate to the stack she was building. She didn’t know where Edith kept her various dishes so the older woman was planning to put everything in the cupboard when they finished.

“I’d like to take another walk down to that heart sign,” Katrina said as she folded her damp dish towel. “Maybe I can get some good pictures of it with no one around.”

Katrina wanted some fresh air. Since she’d opened her heart again to God, she felt like she’d been hollowed out. Her emotions echoed around inside of herself and she wanted to have some time alone to at least identify them. She wasn’t willing to use Conrad or her cancer as an excuse to stop her emotions again. She was going to live fully for however long she was able to take breath.

Edith nodded. “That stop sign is special to people around here. You know my daughter, Doris June, was the young girl in the pickup truck that hit the sign. Charley’s son. I was so adamant she was too young to be eloping that she broke up with the young man. Each year that my daughter didn’t marry after that, I felt guilty for ruining her life.”

“But you didn’t know,” Katrina said.

“No more than you did with your parents,” Edith agreed. “I’m just saying that regret and guilt can fester inside us until we are full of more darkness than light. None of us can tell the future. Or control what other people will do. All we can do is trust God with each of our own days.”

Katrina reached over and gave the older woman a hug.

“I’ll send word after I have the next cancer tests,” she offered. “So you know what the doctor says.”

“Thank you. I wanted to ask if you’d do that, but I didn’t want to make you feel you had to give me the information,” Edith said.

“Just don’t tell Conrad,” Katrina added. “Unless he asks.”

Edith nodded.

“I don’t want to disturb him if he’s—” Katrina swallowed. “Moving on is the term people use.”

Just then there was a knock at the front door.

Edith took off her apron and they both started walking out of the kitchen. Katrina recognized the visitor through the colored glass window on the front door and started walking faster.

“It’s my sister,” she said as she threw the door open. “Leanne,” she cried out as she enveloped her sister in a hug. Then she stood back. “Let me look at you. How are you? Was it easy to find us? What’s been happening?”

Katrina stood still and rejoiced at the sight of her sister. Leanne had short blond hair which she usually kept smoothly combed. Now it was in wild disarray. Her sister wasn’t wearing her usual makeup, either. And her eyes had dark circles under them. She was wearing jeans and a red pullover.

“I stopped by the church and a man sent me over here. I think it was the pastor.”

“You look a sight,” Katrina said as she embraced her sister again. “Come inside. This is Edith.”

The older woman nodded. “And you must be Leanne.”

Leanne nodded and then burst into tears. “Oh, Katrina, what went wrong? I should have listened to you. You told me not to marry Walker in the first place. I should have listened.”

“Shh,” Katrina said gently as she pulled her sister to her and patted her on the shoulder. “Those things I said—I don’t know the future today and I didn’t back
then. I certainly didn’t know anything about Walker that would have told you not to marry him. I was just worried about you living on the reservation.”

“Walker’s been withdrawn for months now and he snaps at the boys for no reason. I thought that was because he was discouraged about not finding work. Times are hard all over the reservation,” Leanne said.

Katrina looked over her sister’s head and met Edith’s gaze.

“Do you and Walker still go to that little church you joined when you were dating?” Katrina asked. “Maybe the pastor there could talk with you and—”

“We stopped going about a year ago. Walker got mad at some of the people and said he wouldn’t set foot inside the place again. I didn’t want to go without him. It seemed disloyal and upset him, but I missed—”

Her sister started to cry even more and Katrina led her through the living room and into the dining room. “Why don’t we sit down and rest a little? We saved a plate from dinner for you. Once you’ve eaten, things will look better. It’ll be ready before long.”

Katrina went into the kitchen, but Edith had already gotten there before her.

“I put the plate in the oven,” the older woman said. “It wasn’t even cold yet so it shouldn’t take long. Why don’t you take your sister a cup of tea?”

“I need to call the sheriff, too. He’ll want to talk to her as soon as he can.”

Edith nodded. “I’ll take care of calling him. You make the tea. The kettle has hot water in it and the cups
are in the cupboard to my right. You can either fill up a mug or use one of my good cups and saucers. The English ones are the best.”

“Thanks. But I think mugs are best today. A cup and saucer shows every nervous bone in a person’s hand. Leanne will want to be steady.”

Katrina walked over to the cupboard indicated and pulled down a navy mug. She then poured hot water into the mug and reached up to the smaller cupboard where Edith kept her basket of wrapped tea bags.

With that, Katrina took the mug of hot water and the basket of teas out to the dining table. Leanne could sit there while she waited for her dinner to warm up. Edith had even saved a piece of blueberry pie for her.

Leanne had just finished her last bite of her chicken dinner when there was a knock on the front door. Edith had been sitting on the sofa in the living room, looking through a magazine, so she called out that she would get the door. Katrina wasn’t surprised when she heard the voice of Sheriff Wall.

Edith brought the man into the dining room.

“Sorry to interrupt your dinner,” the sheriff said as he twisted his Stetson in his hand. “I suppose you know about your husband reporting your car stolen?”

Leanne nodded. “It’s not true.”

“I figured as much by now,” he said. “I’m hoping you don’t mind me asking some questions.”

“You better ask them before I go find the bed Edith promised me,” Leanne said. “You might not see me for days once that happens.”

The sheriff smiled slightly and brought out a small notebook from his pocket. “The first question is about timing. Could you tell me what happened yesterday? I’d like a general feel for things.”

Leanne told the sheriff about how her husband had been staying out at night and not telling her where he’d been. She mentioned that he’d bought a couple of new shirts and she didn’t know where he got the money. She said that she thought he must be having an affair.

“What else could I think?” she stopped to ask Edith and Katrina. “When my husband started coming home at daybreak and wearing a new shirt? I didn’t even think he was trying to hide anything. If I didn’t have the boys, I would have tried to follow him one night to see where he went.”

“Did Walker ever hit you or threaten you?” the sheriff asked.

Leanne hesitated. “Saturday he said I should leave or I could be hurt bad. At first, I thought he meant
he’d
hurt me, but when I think about it now, sometimes I think he was warning me about someone else. That doesn’t make sense, though. Who else would hurt me? I know he was mad about the gray car. He must have wanted to sell it. That’s the only reason I can think of to explain why he was so angry that I lent it out to Katrina. I don’t know if he’d get much for it, but it’s the only asset we have that would even bring in a few hundred dollars. I don’t know why he reported it stolen.”

“Speaking of valuables,” the sheriff said. “Your house was ransacked. Can you think of any reason why?”

Leanne shook her head. “We never claimed to have much. Walker did sometimes joke about his streets of gold, but everyone knew he was just talking. He even stopped saying that when we stopped going to church. There wasn’t anyone else around who would think it was funny then anyway. We had no other friends.”

The sheriff nodded and wrote down a couple of notes. “Maybe, if he was having an affair, it was the other woman who broke into your house. She might have been looking for something like pictures of the two of them together or—”

Leanne drew in her breath. “Surely Walker would never leave something like that around for the boys to find. He’s not one of those terrible fathers. Do you really think another woman came into our house looking for something?”

The sheriff shrugged. “She could have been the one your husband was warning you about. Maybe she wasn’t looking for something, but just wanted revenge.”

“Oh, dear,” Leanne said.

“These affairs can come to bad endings.” The sheriff closed his notebook. “The other thing I need is to verify your identify. I suppose you have a driver’s license with you?”

“Of course,” Leanne said and she reached down to pick up the purse she’d set by her chair. She put the purse on the dining room table and pulled a wallet out of it. She opened the wallet and gave it to the sheriff. Her driver’s license was clearly visible through a plastic sleeve.

The sheriff looked at the license and nodded. “Well,
this is it then. Let me know if you want me to put in a request for a restraining order against your husband. I already have a request with the tribal authorities for them to let me know when he goes back home. I could add a request for protection.”

“I think he’ll be fine if he just cools off. And when I bring the car home, of course.”

BOOK: Wife Wanted in Dry Creek
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