The Ghosts of Aquinnah (16 page)

“
So that's how you ended up married to him,” Christopher said softly.

Stella turned to face him. “Josiah wanted another wife after Lillian died. And he wanted to expand his practice. My parents' land was very valuable...”

Christopher met her gaze. “That's not a very romantic story.”

Stella scoffed. “It's life though, isn't it? There's nothing about life that's very romantic.”

Christopher thought back to the loss of his mother, when he'd found himself alone and penniless in a country fraught with turmoil.

“
No, there's not.”

Henry rolled onto his side and offered his belly to Stella. She smiled and continued to rub him with her foot. For the briefest of moments, she thought how romantic life actually would be if she could stay here with Christopher like this forever.

“
You two here again?”

A woman's voice from behind them caused both Christopher and Stella to jump. They turned and saw the shopkeeper Mrs. Poole staring at them, her hands on her ample hips. Both leaped to their feet.

“
Mrs. Poole, hello,” Stella said. She lifted her basket from the bench. “I've just come to buy some more flour from you.”

The other woman eyed her quizzically. “You do go through a lot of flour these days, Stella.”

“
Doing a great deal of baking,” Stella said. “I think it's the spring weather. It brings me such energy.”

Mrs. Poole nodded, clearly unconvinced. “No biscuits for you today, Mr. Casey?”

“
Not today, ma'am,” Christopher said. “Mrs. Winslow was kind enough to share her lunch with me.” He knew there was no point in lying. The food was on the bench for anyone to see.

Including Henry, who saw Mrs. Poole's arrival as an opportunity to steal the block of cheese Christopher had left with his bread. Stella caught him and pushed him from the bench, secretly glad the dog had given her an excuse to look away from the accusing eyes of the shopkeeper.

“
Henry, you behave,” she said, sitting back down on the bench and turning her back on Mrs. Poole.

The shopkeeper snorted and turned back towards her store.

“
Good day to you, Mrs. Poole,” Christopher said.

“
And to you, Mr. Casey.”

To Christopher's immense relief, the woman disappeared inside the store. He sat back down on the bench and quickly packed up his bread and cheese in the towels Stella had provided for him.

“
I suppose I need to be getting back to work now,” he said.

Stella tried to keep her hands from shaking as she smoothed the fur on Henry's head. “I was wrong to come here and visit you. I should have known better.”

“
No, it's fine,” Christopher said.

“
You don't know the way people are here. They love to talk.” Stella thought back to the night Josiah had pinned her to the wall. “I should have thought of this before. This was a terrible mistake. Josiah will find out...”

“
Find out what? That you had lunch with a friend? We haven't done anything wrong.”

“
That's not what Mrs. Poole thinks.”

“
Who cares what she thinks?” Christopher said. “I never met a nastier woman. She’s a sour old hag, that one is.

Stella stood up and threw her cape over her shoulders. “I should have known better,” she repeated.

Christopher grabbed her shaking hands in his own. “You've done nothing wrong.”

Stella pulled her hands away and shook her head. “I shan’t come here again,” she said. “I'm sorry.”

Christopher stood helpless as she turned away and nearly ran from him, beckoning Henry to follow her. He watched as their figures grew smaller on the road and finally turned away as the ends of Stella's cape fluttered out of his sight. As he started to head back to Mr. Lambert's, he nearly tripped over a warm body rubbing along his legs. Looking down, he saw a large and familiar coal black cat.

“
Hello, Cian,” he said. “You wanting some cheese now, are you?”

He opened his bundle of food and broke off a piece of cheese for the cat.

“
That's all you're getting,” he said. “I dare say I won't have any more any time soon.”

Christopher took one look back towards the Chilmark road and, for a brief moment, he longed to run after Stella and follow her. He shook his head at his own silliness and turned instead towards Mr. Lambert's shop. Cian followed behind.

****

Josiah finished his supper and stood up from the table, pushing his chair back and causing the legs to screech against the floor.

“
When Mrs. Poole arrives,” he said, “show her to my office.”

Stella's dinner plate slipped from her hands and shattered into chunks on the floor.

Josiah jumped at the noise. “Lord, woman, what's the matter with ya?”

“
I'm sorry,” Stella said as she bent over to pick up the plate and tried to keep her hands from shaking. “Just clumsy.”

“
I reckon so.”

“
What did you say about Mrs. Poole, Josiah?”

“
I said when she arrives show her to my office.”

“
Why is she coming here?”

“
She's here to purchase some medication for Mr. Poole. I saw her at the apothecary yesterday and she told me he slipped down the stairs and hurt his ankle something terrible. I told her I'd come have a look at him, but she said that wouldn't be necessary. Just needs something to get him through the pain of it.”

“
Poor Mr. Poole. I do hope he's alright.”

“
Are you done with your questions now? I have work to do.”

Stella tossed the broken pieces of plate into the trash and finished clearing the table. “Of course.”

Her hands trembled as she put the dishes into the pail of hot soapy water. Of all the people who could be coming to her home, Mrs. Poole was literally the last person she wanted to see. She had convinced herself that she had overreacted about their encounter in Menemsha. She had stayed away from the village and from Christopher for a few weeks now, and she was certain the whole incident was behind her. As soon as she’d heard the shopkeeper’s name that certainty had vanished.

She jumped and nearly dropped another dish when she heard a knock at her front door. Stella dried her hands on her apron and walked to the doorway. She forced her face into a smile as she opened it.

“
Good day to you, Mrs. Poole,” she said.

“
And to you, Stella.”

“
My husband is expecting you. He asked that I show you to his office.”

The shopkeeper nodded and walked into Stella's living room.

“
I was sorry to hear about Mr. Poole's accident.”

“
Thank you.”

“
Please give him my best.”

“
Will do.”

Stella couldn't help but notice that the other woman never once met her eyes. And her face never showed even the slightest hint of a smile.

She brushed past the woman and led her to Josiah's office. She knocked on the closed door.

“
Mrs. Poole is here for you, Josiah.”

“
Send her in,” Josiah called.

Stella opened the door and nodded to Mrs. Poole as she stepped inside the office. Josiah rose from his chair and shut the door without another word to Stella.

She stood outside the door for a few minutes, desperately trying to hear what was being said inside. She could only pick up bits and pieces, as both Mrs. Poole and her husband were talking quietly. From what she could hear, they were only talking about Mr. Poole's fall and resulting injury.

Stella shook her head at her own foolishness. She was letting fear get the better of her. There was work to be done before nightfall and she shouldn't be wasting time eavesdropping on her husband. If he opened the door and found her this way she'd never be able to explain her behavior.

Scolding herself, she went back to the kitchen and finished cleaning up before heading outside to feed her sheep and to brush and groom Grover. She brought along some carrots she had saved for Grover while preparing dinner and stuffed them into the pocket of her dress. As always, her animals made her smile, and she quickly forgot about her worries over Mrs. Poole's visit.

The sun was nearly set when Mrs. Poole and Josiah emerged from the house. Stella sat on a bale of hay in the barn and brushed the mats from Henry's fur as she watched her husband escort Mrs. Poole to her waiting buggy and driver. Stella's fear had returned while she waited for Mrs. Poole to leave her home, and her anxiety now increased with each minute that passed.

Josiah held Mrs. Poole's hand as she climbed into the back of her buggy, and Stella was sure she saw him grimace in pain as he bore the brunt of the shopkeeper's weight. He showed only smiles to Mrs. Poole though and waved as she and her driver drove off down the road. Stella's hand froze in Henry's fur as her husband turned around to face the barn. Even in the rapidly darkening evening, Stella could see the contempt on his face as his eyes met hers.

Sure he was headed for the barn, she braced herself for a confrontation. But instead of walking towards her, Josiah turned instead for the front door and walked briskly inside. Stella got up from the hay and said a quick goodnight to the animals before heading back into her kitchen.

She took a deep breath as she went indoors and tried to prepare herself for what she was sure would be an angry tirade from Josiah. But to her surprise, he was nowhere to be found. She walked to his office and found his door closed and the light from the oil lamp glowing underneath the door.

Stella tip-toed away from the office and headed for the bedroom she shared with her husband. Perhaps her nerves had gotten the better of her and she had merely imagined the look on Josiah's face. Surely he wouldn't let the issue go if Mrs. Poole had indeed told him about Stella's meetings with Christopher.

She quietly changed into her dressing gown and gratefully slipped into her empty bed. With luck, Josiah would not wake her when he decided to retire himself. She tried again to convince herself that his apparent anger when Mrs. Poole had left had simply been a product of her imagination.

But no matter how hard she tried to believe it, she knew what she had seen when Josiah had looked at her. And she knew she had seen anger. More than that, she was sure she had seen hatred.

****

Two days passed before Stella knew she was right about what she had seen. Josiah barely spoke to her, but he treated her cordially and in the business-like manner normally reserved for strangers. He never once met her gaze and, to her relief, never touched her in their bed. In fact, he never touched her at all. The tension in their home grew with each passing hour.

And then exploded on the afternoon of the third day, when Josiah returned from visiting patients. He ignored her when she came outside to unhitch Grover and feed him, brushing past her and going into the house without a word. When she finished with the horse and came inside, he was waiting for her in the kitchen.

Stella stopped short, startled at the way her husband was staring at her, his face a hideous mask of unsuppressed fury.

“
Josiah?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

Without a word, Josiah strode across the kitchen and slapped her across the face.

Stella gasped in pain, and tears instantly sprung from her eyes. She cradled her burning cheek in her hand and stared up at her husband. Before she could speak, he slapped her again, this time across her other cheek.

“
You want to know if something is wrong?” he asked. “Does that give you an answer?”

Stella backed away from him, pinning herself into the corner of the kitchen. He followed and towered over her, glaring down at her with a rage that made her tremble with fear.