Read The Last Letter Online

Authors: Kathleen Shoop

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Westerns, #Historical Fiction, #United States

The Last Letter (2 page)

BOOK: The Last Letter
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Silent tears camouflaged by stale, pond water warmed Jeanie’s cheeks. Her hand shook as she pushed Katherine’s matted hair away from her eyes, rocking her.

“We’ll be fine, Katherine. We’ll build a life and start over and be happy. We will. Believe it deep inside your very young bones.”

Katherine snuffled then blew her nose in her filthy, sodden skirt. Her voice squeaked. “Oh, Mama.” Katherine burrowed into Jeanie’s chest and curled into a ball in her lap.

Jeanie wiped Katherine’s mouth with the edge of her skirt, streaking mud across her cheek. She used her thumb to clean away the muck. Her daughter in need was all that kept Jeanie from rolling into a ball herself.

“My, my. We’ll be fine,” Jeanie said. And as her heart fell back into its normal rhythms heavy exhaustion braced her. “We’ll enjoy the sunshine all the more if we’ve had a few shadows first. Right? That’s right.” Jeanie knew those words sounded ridiculous in light of all they’d been through, but still they dribbled out of her mouth, as though simply discussing a broken bit of Limoges.

Katherine nodded into her mother’s chest. Jeanie shuddered, a leaden tumor of dread swelled in her gut. She wouldn’t let it settle there.

“Shush, shush, little one," Jeanie kissed her cheeks. If Katherine and she lived through that they could live through anything. The pond event, as it came to be in Jeanie’s mind, was evidence they’d paid a price and would be free to accept all the treasures the prairie offered from that point forward.

“Are you crying Mama?”

Jeanie forced a smile then looked into Katherine’s upturned face. “We’re
not
crying people.” Her fingers quivered as she tucked the stiff chestnut tendrils into Katherine’s bonnet. “Besides there’s nothing to cry about.”

Katherine gripped her mother tighter. “I knew you’d save us, Mama. Even in Des Moines, I knew that no matter what,
you
could save us.”

Jeanie hugged Katherine close hiding the splintered confidence she knew must be creased into her face. What did Katherine know? She
couldn’t
know the details of their disgrace. She must have simply picked up on the weightiness of their leaving the family home for this—this nothingness.

Jeanie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to find the strength inside her. She would not fake her self-assurance. She believed that kind of thing lived inside a person’s skin, never really leaving, even if it did weaken from time to time. Yes, Jeanie told herself, she was the same person she had been three weeks before. Losing everything she owned didn’t mean she had to lose herself.

 

Jeanie stood at the edge of the pond and inventoried her most recent losses: impractical shoes she shouldn’t have been wearing anyway; silver chatelaine that held her pen, paper, and watch; pride. Well, no, she was determined to salvage her self-respect. She clutched her waist with both hands, considering their options, then pulled Katherine to her feet.

“This standing pond water will poison us. We’ll continue to the well.”

Katherine patted her mother’s back then bent over to pluck some prairie grass from the ground.

The wooly sunrays seemed to lower onto their heads rather than move further away, settling into the west. Their dresses dried crisp—the pond-water debris acted as a starch—while the skirts underneath remained moist and mealy.

Jeanie wiggled her toes. They burned inside the holey stockings.

“Our new home will have a spring house, right Mama? Icy, fresh spring water?”

“I’m afraid, no, little lamb.”

“Oh
gaaaa-loshes,”
Katherine said.

Jeanie slung her arm around Katherine. “Let me think for a moment, Darling.”

The endless land looked the same though not familiar, appearing perfectly flat, though housing hidden rises in land and gaping holes that were obvious only after it was too late. All Jeanie could remember was running straight to the spot that ended up being a pond. Her heart thudded hard again reminding her she had no control of her existence.

A sob rumbled inside Jeanie, wracking her body, forcing an obnoxious, weak moan to ooze from her clenched lips.
Toughen up.
She pushed her shoulders down as her throat swelled around another rising sob.

Katherine pushed a piece of grass upward, offering it to Jeanie to chew on. “You said you came around a bend, Mama.”

Jeanie closed her fingers over the blade of grass and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “We’ll curve back around to get to the point where we can head straight back toward the wagon. Then we’ll know where the well is from there.”

They held hands, traipsed around the edge of the pond and rose up a gentle hill. From there, they could see a tree. Just one. Tall, yet knobby, as though surrendering to death a bit. But, even in its contorted form, Jeanie could see its vibrant green foliage and white blooms.

Katherine pointed. “I forgot the world had trees.”

“Yes.”

“I’m thirsty Mama.”

“Don’t feel out of spirits. We’ll find the well. Better to ignore the thirst until then.” Jeanie wished she could take her own advice but she’d felt parched since she first perched atop the wagon seat three days before.

Katherine squeezed Jeanie’s hand three times saying “I love you” with the gesture. Jeanie squeezed back to say the same then looked away from the tree into nothingness.

They hugged the edge of the pond, following the bends back to the spot where Jeanie’s foot caught the cusp of the pond, tearing out some earth. Facing directly east, they headed back to where Jeanie thought the wagon sat.

“Get on my shoulders,” Jeanie said.

They faced each other with Jeanie’s wrists crossed, hands joined. Jeanie bent her knees and exploded upward swinging Katherine around her back. Katherine wiggled into a comfortable place on Jeanie’s shoulders and fastened her ankles around Jeanie’s chest.

“You all right, Mama?”

“My yes, Sweet Pea. All is well.” She was going to make all of that true. “Peel your eyes for the wagon.” Jeanie plodded, feeling Katherine’s weight quickly, thinking of the baby inside.

“Yes, Mama.” Katherine hummed a tune.

“Concentrate on the looking,” Jeanie said.

“The humming helps me look.”

“Well, then,” Jeanie said through heavy breaths. “Keep those eyes wide as a prairie night.”

“Wide as a what?” Katherine said.

“A prairie night,” Jeanie said. Katherine’s legs stiffened and she pulled hard around Jeanie’s neck.

Jeanie halted, absorbing Katherine’s tension.

“What’s wrong? What do you see?” Jeanie looked upward at Katherine’s face above her. She squeezed Katherine’s thigh to get her attention. Were they about to step into a snake pit, be trampled by a herd of cows?

“What is it?”

“A man,” Katherine said.

“Who?” Ridiculous question in light of them not knowing a soul in Dakota.

Katherine’s legs kicked—she gripped Jeanie’s bonnet making its ties nearly choke her.

Jeanie’s heart began its clunking patterns again. “Where?”

Katherine didn’t respond so Jeanie swung her from her shoulders and tucked her behind her skirts. Jeanie glanced about the ground for something sharp or big. There was nothing that could be used as a weapon against a small rodent let alone a man.

Katherine clenched Jeanie so tight that the two nearly flew off their feet. Steadied, Jeanie couldn’t see anyone coming toward them. Her bare feet pulsed with pain making her feel more vulnerable. Katherine must be hallucinating, the thirst taking its toll on her.

Jeanie spun in place, craning for the sight of a man, the sound of feet, but a windblast made anything that might emit noise, soundless.

For a moment Jeanie was tempted to burrow into the grasses, hide there, play dead, anything to avoid the man, if there was a man. A new burst of sweat gathered at her hairline and dripped down the sides of her face. Katherine’s fingers delved into the loosened stays of Jeanie’s corset.

“Who’s there?” Jeanie yelled into the wind. She shuddered. She could feel someone watching them. She whirled again, Katherine whipped around with her.

“Who’s there?”
Jeanie shouted. This time her words tore through the air, the winds momentarily still.

“It’s Howard Templeton! Jeanie Arthur? That you?” A full, gruff voice came from behind. Jeanie and Katherine twisted around a final time. Jeanie’s body relaxed. If he knew her name it must be a good sign. She tensed again, maybe not. Maybe he tortured Frank and the boys and…she wouldn’t think about it. This Templeton sported a pristine black hat. His ropy limbs were strong though not bulky, not threatening in any setting other than that of the naked prairie.

Jeanie shaded her eyes and looked into his six feet two inches, meeting his gaze. A crooked grin pulled his mouth a centimeter away from being a smirk.

“Mrs. Arthur, I presume? There. That’s more proper, isn’t it? Don’t be nervous.”

“It was the wind,” Jeanie said. You scared me blind, she wanted to say, but wouldn’t. “I couldn’t pinpoint…well, no matter.” She wasn’t accustomed to making her own introductions. It felt rude to say,
who are you?
So, she said nothing.

Templeton removed his hat and bent at the waist, lifting his eyes. Was he flirting with this dramatic bow? She grabbed for absent pearls then smoothed the front of her dress before pulling Katherine into her side.

He straightened, replaced his hat. “I met your husband, Frank, on his way to stake a claim.”

Jeanie flinched. Where
was
Frank?

Templeton jammed one of his mitts toward Jeanie, offering a handshake. She stepped backward while still offering her hand in return.

He clasped her hand inside both of his. They were remarkably soft for a man ferreting out a home on the prairie. He held the handclasp and their gaze. Jeanie looked away glimpsing their joined hands. She cleared her throat and wormed her hand out of his.

She wished there had been a manual pertaining to the etiquette of meeting on the prairie. Etiquette
should
have traveled anywhere one went, but she could feel, standing there embarrassed in so many ways, how unreliable everything she had learned about life would be in that setting. Jeanie ran the freed hand over her bonnet, straightening it then smoothing the front of her pond-mucked skirt.

Templeton shifted his weight, and drew Jeanie’s attention back. “I advised your Frank to jump a claim. To take up in the Henderson’s place. That family never proved up and rather than you starting from scratch, I figured you might as well start from something. Besides, I miss having a direct neighbor. Darlington Township might have well over a hundred homesteads settled, but it’s really the few closest to you, the ones you form cooperatives with, that matter.”

Jeanie swallowed hard. She eyed his canteen and had to hold her hand back to keep from rudely snatching it right off his body. “Well, I’m not keen on jumping a claim, Mr. Templeton. I’ll have to consult my own inclination before we put pen to paper on that.”

She bit the inside of her mouth, regretting she’d lost her manners, her mind. “I’m sorry. My manners. It’s a pleasure to meet you. This is my daughter Katherine.”

Katherine smiled. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Templeton shook her hand then folded his arms across his chest.

“You, Katherine, are the picture of your father. Prettier though, of course, with your mother’s darker coloring, I see.”

Katherine reddened, peered upward from under her bonnet then darted away, leaping and spinning.

“Stay close!” Jeanie said.

“So what bit you with good old prairie fever?” Templeton asked.

Jeanie looked around as though something drew her attention. She hadn’t considered what her response to that query would be. Her heart burst at the chest wall. Templeton’s quiet patience, his steadfast gaze heightened Jeanie’s discomfort.

“Circumstances.”

“I know all about circumstances,” Howard said.

“I don’t mean to be ill-mannered, but…“ Jeanie eyed the canteen Templeton had slung across his body.

He rubbed his chin then slid the strap over his head. “Frank sent me with some water, figured you’d need it, that I’d be the best person to find you.”

“Water, thank you, my yes.” Jeanie licked her lips.

He handed it to Jeanie. Her hands shook, nearly dropping it as she unclasped the catch. She would give her daughter the first drink.

“Katherine! Water!”

Katherine skipped toward them. She took the canteen, shoulders hunched, eyes wide as they had been on Christmas morning.

“Watch, don’t dribble.” Jeanie held her hands up under the canteen. She forced her gaze away, knowing she must look crazed, staring at Katherine’s throat swallowing, barely able to wait her turn.

Katherine stopped drinking and sighed, eyes closed, content. She held the canteen to her mother.

Jeanie threw her head back, water drenching her insides. The liquid engorged every cell of her shriveled body. She took it from her lips and offered it back to Katherine.

“You finish up,” Jeanie said, cupping Katherine’s chin, lifting it to get a good look into her now glistening eyes.

“There’s got to be plenty back at the wagon now, right, Mr. Templeton?” Jeanie said.

He didn’t reply. He squatted down, squinting at Jeanie’s bare feet.

“You’re not going another inch with naked feet and phalanges. What a great word, I haven’t had use for since, well, never mind that,” Templeton said.

Katherine’s eyes widened.

“I’ll thank you to find your manners, Mr. Templeton,” Jeanie said stepping back.

“Don’t be harebrained, Mrs. Arthur. Allow me to wrap your feet so they’re protected should you step on a rattler, or into a gopher hole. I’ll be as doctorly as possible.” Templeton stood and unbuttoned his shirt.

Jeanie waved her hands back and forth. “No, now, no, now please don’t do…” But before she could arrange her words to match her thoughts, Templeton ripped his shirt into strips and helped Jeanie to the ground. He turned her left foot back and forth. Jeanie’s eyes flew wide open, her mouth gaping.

Katherine sighed with her entire body. “Sure am glad we stumbled upon Mr. Templeton. My mama wasn’t trying to be disagreeable. She’s just proper is all.”

BOOK: The Last Letter
2.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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