Diamond Duo (33 page)

Bertha craned her neck and looked out the window. “Is he out in the barn?”

“No, dear. He’s gone off on an errand.”

Her heart sank. “Without me?”

“Had you planned another trip into town? Lately you spend more time there than at home. I don’t think you should go today.” Standing with her hand on her hip and a disapproving look on her face, Mama resembled her old stormy self.

Fearing the damaging winds of the past, Bertha dared to protest. “I plan to do all my chores first, including the extras. I won’t be long, and you can pick which shoes I wear.” Mama’s slight grin gave her courage. “Please?”

Understanding dawned on Mama’s face. “You’re going to look for Annie again, aren’t you?”

When she nodded, Mama stiffened. “You can’t go alone. Wait for Papa.”

“That won’t work. There’s no telling when he’ll be home.”

“Magda, then.”

Bertha wiped her mouth and stood. “We have a bargain. Thank you, Mama. Now move aside and let me at those dishes. The morning’s getting away from me.”

By the time Bertha completed every task, her hands were sore
and her back ached. She longed to slip into the parlor and put her feet by the fire, especially since the temperature had steadily dropped all morning. Instead, she fetched her hat and warmest wrap, saddled her horse, and struck out for Magda’s house northwest of town. She ran into her coming out of the end of her lane.

Magda reined in the big gelding and stared at Bertha as if she had spots. “Well, fancy that. I was just coming to your place.”

Bertha nodded at the surrey. “Do you live in that thing? You’re sitting up there every time I see you.”

“It beats walking. What are you doing here? Are you all right? I mean, about. . .”

“I need a favor.”

Magda nodded. “Sure, if I can.”

“I need to go into town. Will you take me?”

She shrugged. “I was headed there after I left you. Ride your horse back to the house. I’ll turn around and get you.”

The surrey sat waiting when Bertha closed the barn door. She pulled herself up opposite Magda and smiled. “I’m grateful. Mama wouldn’t let me go alone.”

The morning chill had Magda’s lips a deep cherry red and her cheeks a bright pink. The striking color against her pale skin and brown hair made her resemble a china-head doll. As soon as Bertha settled on the seat, Magda gathered her up for a hug. “I’m so sorry about Thad, sugar.”

Bertha leaned against her shoulder. “Why haven’t you been around to see me, then? Before now, I mean. I could’ve used a friend.”

Magda pulled away and looked at her. “I did, Bertha. I came around on Monday. Didn’t your mama tell you? She said you were in town seeing about a”–she raised her brows–“friend.” Twisting around straight, she gathered the reins and signaled the horse to go.

They rode a ways before Bertha could think what to say. “I was worried about her. You don’t know what Annie’s been through.”

Magda quirked the corner of her mouth. “And how could I? Since I’m not counted worthy to keep company with the two of
you. Why hasn’t Annie worried about what you’ve been through? I know I have.”

Bertha cut her eyes at Magda then made up her mind. “Pull this thing over in those trees there. We have to talk.”

It surprised Bertha when Magda did as she asked without argument. When the surrey came to a stop in the shaded grove, Bertha reached under the seat for a blanket to cover them then settled back on the seat and began to talk. She told Magda about believing God may have arranged for her to meet Annie in the first place and the reason why. She confessed how hard it had been to put Annie before Thad and about meeting with Annie and giving her the necklace that she felt unworthy to wear. She described Abe’s cruelty and some, but not all, of Annie’s past. When she came to the end of her story, Magda had tears in her eyes.

“Bertha, we have to do something. We have to help her.”

She scooted close and kissed Magda’s cheek. “I knew you’d feel that way. Will you help me find her?”

Magda wiped her eyes and picked up the reins. “Where do we start?”

“Brooks House. Let’s go see if she came back last night.”

Magda nodded and circled the wagon out of the wooded confessional. The two chatted easily on the way into town, laughing and teasing like they always had. It felt nice, and Bertha breathed easier.

They pulled up to the hotel just as Jennie Simpson reached the front walk. She flashed her chubby-cheeked smile their way and waved. “Looky who’s here again. And you brung Miss Magda with you. How ya’ll doing this mornin’, little misses?”

“Morning, Jennie. Goodness, but you’re bright and chipper today.”

Jennie wagged her head. “Oh yes’m, I am indeed.” She looked over her shoulder then moved closer and dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “Got me some energy tonic.” She straightened. “Best thing I ever found for the droops.” Then she winked. “A sip or two even warms a body on a blustery day like this.”

Bertha laughed. “Sounds like something I need.”

She clutched the pocket of her dress. “Ordinarily I’d offer up a taste.” Her worried look turned to a pout. “But after ol’ Doc done found out I had it, I ain’t hardly got a drop left.”

Bertha reached for the post to climb down, but Jennie raised a hand to stop her. “I reckon I know why you’re here, and you just be wasting time coming off there.” She flashed a grin. “You come to see if Miss Bessie come back, but she ain’t. She ain’t even coming back to the hotel on account of Mr. Abe say she gon’ meet him at the station this morning, and they gon’ catch a train to Cincinnata. Mercy, don’t I wish I could’a told that sweet chile good-bye.”

Bertha reached behind her and gripped Magda’s hand. “So they’ve gone?”

“Don’t know if the train come yet, but Mr. Abe done checked out and lef’ awhile ago.”

Magda squeezed Bertha’s fingers. “Let’s go. Maybe we can get there in time for you to say good-bye.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to get that close, but at least I’ll get to see for myself she’s all right.”

Jennie beamed. “All right? Sure she all right. God gon’ take care of a good-hearted soul like Miss Bessie.”

Bertha called her thanks as Magda maneuvered the wagon into the crowded street. The ride up Vale to Alley Street north of town took forever at the busy morning hour. Bertha thought for sure they’d arrive too late. When they finally drew close to the bustling station, Magda pulled onto a side road and set the brake.

“What are you doing?”

She secured the reins and scrambled down. “It’ll be quicker to walk from here. Come on.”

Bertha caught up to her, and together they hustled the rest of the way to the station. Bertha saw Abe Monroe right away and tugged on the back of Magda’s skirt. “Stay in front of me. There he is.”

“Where?”

Bertha pointed. “Right there. Seated behind the driver of that
hired two-seater.” She scanned the area near the hack. “Where’s Annie?”

The frightening man didn’t sit as tall as he did the day Bertha saw him leaving the station with his arm around the bluebird. He sat hunched over, both arms resting on his knees, studying something at his feet. Despite the weather, he didn’t look cold, but one knee rose and jiggled every so often, as if he couldn’t hold it still.

Bertha hid behind a shivering Magda and studied him. It was the closest look she’d ever had.

He parted his thick, curly hair a touch off center, and his eyes were too small–or just looked that way centered over the wide bridge of his nose. He was far from balding, but a high forehead made it look as if his curls had receded. He had big, pouting lips and smallish ears set too high on his head.

She had to admit that somehow this odd assortment fit together in a pleasing manner but felt it must be due to his youth. As he matured, he wouldn’t be the least bit attractive. The coldness of his hollow eyes caused her to wonder what Annie ever saw in him in the first place.

Though Abe kept his attention focused on his feet, Bertha still hung back, scanning the milling crowd for Annie. “Where is she?”

Magda sighed. “Nowhere.”

“Are you sure?”

“Bertha, someone like Annie is hard to hide.”

Bertha shaded her eyes and stared at a glint of steel in the distance. “Well, she’d better hurry. Here comes the train.”

Abe became jumpier as the big engine approached. When the whistle sounded, he stood up in the wagon and squinted, taking long draws on a cigarette and blowing billows of smoke from a puckered bottom lip. When he wasn’t staring down the track, he patted his breast pockets, looked at his ticket, or glanced back at his luggage. He continued his anxious dance until the Texas & Pacific belched into the station. Then he pressed a bill into the driver’s hand, gathered his bags, and ran for the open car.

Her gaze locked on Abe, Magda tilted her face toward Bertha.

“What’s he doing? Isn’t he going to wait for her?”

“He must plan to wait inside.”

Magda nodded. “Maybe.”

Bertha looked up and down the platform, behind them on the street, at the ticket window, then back to the train, until the big engine roared to life and started pulling away. She watched with an open mouth as the car Abe Monroe had boarded passed out of sight. Without Annie.

Magda jabbed her in the side. “He left her.”

She felt weak in the knees. “Yes, he did.” She turned a bewildered look on Magda. “But he didn’t leave her luggage.”

Magda stared after the caboose. “He had her luggage? Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

“Why would he take it?”

Bertha pinched her bottom lip together with two fingers and stared at the ground. “I can’t imagine. Unless she’s planning to meet him later.” Her heart surged at the thought of Annie still in town without Abe watching her every move.

She pushed the thought away. “He’d never allow it. The only time she escaped his grasp is when he drank so much he passed out. Then she took chances she shouldn’t.”

“Out of desperation. I’d do the same in her shoes.” Magda tapped both temples with her fists. “What am I saying? I’d never be in her shoes, because I’d never allow a man to treat me like that.” She swiveled toward Bertha. “Would you?”

Bertha gritted her teeth until her jaw popped. “Never.”

“Why do you reckon she puts up with it?”

Bertha pulled her wrap tighter and stared across the treetops in the direction of the bluff. “Annie said her beauty makes men feel the need to possess and control her. For some reason she thinks that includes all men.” She shrugged. “Maybe she feels that’s all she deserves.”

Magda made a tsk-tsk sound. “Such a pity.”

“I know.” Standing on tiptoes, Bertha did one more thorough
search. Beside her, Magda squeezed her hand.

“Give it up, sugar. She’s not here.”

Bertha released an uneven breath. “I know that, too.”

They waited a few more minutes, until the chill wind forced them to hustle back to the surrey. As they rode through town, Bertha found herself watching the crowded boardwalk for a bright yellow dress or a crop of high black curls. The surrey reached Magda’s yard with hardly more than three words passed between them.

When Bertha slid to the ground by the barn, Magda called her name. Bertha paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand about Annie.”

Bertha smiled. “Just be sorry for thinking we won’t always be best friends.”

Magda smiled back. “I’m the most sorry for that. I’ll try not to forget it again.”

“See that you don’t.” She winked and turned to go.

“Bertha?”

She spun, laughing. “What now?”

“Don’t worry about Annie. She’ll turn up somewhere. I’ll be praying hard in the meantime.”

“Thank you for that. Oh, and for taking me to the station, too.”

Magda waved a dismissive hand. “Anytime. You know I’ll always be–” Her eyes widened. “Great-Grandpa’s knees! I forgot my errands.”

Bertha covered her mouth. “Looks like I’m the one who’s sorry this time. Oh, Magda. Do you want to go back? I’ll go with you.”

“Heavens, no. I’d rather go in and take my medicine. It’s getting too cold to be out.” She pulled back the rim of her bonnet and peered at the sky. “Look at that. You don’t think it’s going to snow, do you?”

Bertha followed her gaze. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Not much snow fell on the piney woods of Texas, but Bertha had to admit the clouds looked different. Mama spoke often of her memories of the onset of a “snow sky” in the town in Maine where she grew up. Bertha wondered if the odd gathering of clouds
overhead was what she meant.

She led her horse from the barn and held the door while Magda pulled inside. They hugged; then Bertha mounted and started up the lane.

“Be careful, and be safe,” Magda called. “Don’t get caught in a blizzard.”

Bertha laughed and took off at a trot. She hadn’t gone far when the laughter died, replaced by thoughts of Thad. She wondered where he was at that very second, who might be with him, what he might be doing. She wondered what he ate, where he slept, if the weather in Bryan was cold. Most of all, she wondered if he wondered about her.

She reached their road and saw Papa riding in from the opposite direction. She reined up and waited. He waved when he saw her and took off at a gallop. When he reached her, he tipped his derby and smiled. “What’s a lovely lass like you doing on these perilous roads without an escort?”

Bertha bowed from the waist. “Waiting for my Prince Charming, and lo, he has arrived.”

He wagged a finger. “No fair turning a fellow’s own blarney back on him. You’ve been spending far too much time with me, I see. Besides that, me poor farsighted princess, it’s a frog you’ve stumbled upon, not a prince.”

He sidled up beside her and they turned down the lane. “No sign of Annie, I suppose.”

She wrinkled her brow. “Abe Monroe left town this morning. . . without her. He boarded an eastbound train with her luggage. I saw him.”

“You don’t say, now?” He watched her, chewing on his mustache. “What do you suppose it means?”

“I’ve tried to figure it out. I just don’t know.”

Papa reached for her reins and pulled both horses to a stop. He cleared his throat and met her eyes, his expression grave.