Under a Falling Star (18 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

W
anting to get the move over with before the railroad men showed up and demanded all his time, Albert borrowed Win’s buckboard from the livery and pulled it around the back of the sheriff’s office where loading the wagon would be easier. He and Nate emptied as much of the smaller stuff as they could without help, then went and fetched Win to help load the sideboard, the only substantial piece of furniture Albert owned. The bed and dresser stayed with the apartment and was owned by the town for whoever held the sheriff’s job. The last to go into the wagon were Floria’s trunks. A burning curiosity needled Albert’s mind, but not enough to move him to open that can of worms yet.

With everything in the wagon, Albert lifted Nate up onto the high seat, then climbed up after him. Gathering the wide leather reins, he pulled the team around to return to the alley road the way they’d come, then hit Main Street. “How do you like the town so far, Nate? Is it what you were expecting?”

The furrowed brow Albert was coming to know relaxed. Nate looked up into Albert’s face. “Fine.”

The boy didn’t say much. Most of the time they sat in companionable silence, which didn’t seem to bother Nate at all.

“I think we should’a stayed there. I liked lookin’ out at the road.”

“That may be, but above a jail and next to a saloon is no place for a boy to live. The new house has a family with children across the street. That’ll suit you better.”

“I don’t want to play with no kids. I want to stay with you.”

A surge of emotion squeezed Albert’s throat. It stood to reason. He’d just lost his mother and probably thought he’d lose his pa next. Albert glanced down at the brown hair combed to the side and the boots that didn’t yet reach the wagon floor. His son was a handsome lad, one he wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world.

“Didn’t you have fun with Sarah yesterday? And Markus? They seem like nice children.”

“Sure.” He shrugged. An echo reverberated when the wheels of the wagon hit the small bridge over Shady Creek. Nate’s face lit up like Christmas. “I’d sure like ta go froggin’. More than anythin’.”

Albert hid his smile. “I feel the same. We’ll get to that just as soon as everything settles down in a few days. I still have business with the bank and train, but after that, we’ll spend a day, or two, rounding up as many frogs as you want.” Albert made a pointed decision not to look to the right, up the road to Susanna’s small, three-room place.

“And fry ’em up in egg and corn batter?”

Albert had to laugh at that, surprised he’d remembered. “Yes, exactly that.”

That got the boy’s attention. “I can’t wait. Ma hardly ever let me go froggin’. And she never tried herself. You will, though, right, Pa? You’ll try to catch some frogs, too?”

“I will, son. As a matter of fact, I’m looking forward to it.”

After crossing the bridge, it was only a short distance to Maude’s rental house opposite Brenna and Greg Hutton’s. He pulled the horses to a halt and set the brake. He knew their neighbors were home because he could hear a few voices coming from within. Still, he didn’t feel inclined to knock on their door. People were still judging him. And why not? They loved Susanna, and were loyal to her, and he was glad about that. She’d need all the support she could get. Never before had he felt such censure in Logan Meadows, but he knew he had it coming. Things would ease up in time.

He climbed off the wagon, but before he could reach up to help Nate, the boy had crawled over the seat and jumped out the back into the dirt. Albert stifled his reaction to scold him, and tell him not to do that anymore. They’d get used to each other soon enough. May as well let the boy ease into it or else he’d have him bucking the reins from the get-go.

Albert looked at their new home from the street. “Well, what do you think? Can you be happy here?”

“It’s yellow.”

Albert almost chuckled. “It is. Anything wrong with that?”

“Yellow’s a girl color.”

“Says who?”

“Says Becky Cook. She has yellow dresses, ribbons, and dolls.”

“Who’s Becky Cook?”

“My friend. We play every day.”

“I see.”
Not anymore, poor little guy.
“I can live with yellow if you can, even if it is a girl’s color.” Albert went to the tailgate and dropped it down. He muscled the first trunk into his arms and carried it to the front porch. Taking the key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Greg had lived here so recently, the house hadn’t had a chance to get musty.

His new life. Without Susanna. He never thought it would come to this.

Nate scampered in, darted past him, and ran into the kitchen. Instantly he was back, looking into both bedrooms. “Where’s the toilet room?”

Floria was sure to have had one of those pull-flush toilets in her house that he’d heard so much about. Some folks around here were thinking along those lines as well. “Outhouse ’round back.”

When the boy’s eyes lit up, Albert laughed again. “You like that?”

“Sure. Lots of lizards.”

Nate stilled in the middle of the living room, his gaze glued to the watercolor portrait of a staunch-looking woman hanging over a brown corduroy couch. Her dark, beady eyes accented her narrow face. Her scowl would scare any little boy and perhaps some men as well.

Nate backed up until his legs touched the rectangular maple coffee table in the center of the room. Albert walked past and lifted the painting off its hook, leaving a dark square outline on the wall where the green wallpaper hadn’t faded. “This can go under my bed for now.”

When Albert returned, his son was still where he’d left him, round eyed, and smile gone. “She looks like mama. Can we go to the train now?”

Albert didn’t see the resemblance at all, but that didn’t mean Nate hadn’t connected with something in the woman’s expression. Albert remembered back to his childhood, when he was a boy and his favorite uncle had unexpectedly died from influenza. The priest had advised his mother to be sure her small boys spent some time viewing the body before the burial. Give them time to come to terms with the reality of losing their uncle. It was healing, and showed them that death was something real. After which, they wouldn’t misunderstand, or think that their beloved uncle was just away and might return.

Nate hadn’t had that opportunity. The last he’d been with his mother she was alive and well. No wonder he was so confused. It was time for the difficult conversation Albert had been dreading.

“Nate, have you ever had an animal that died?”

Nate’s chin dipped down, and he avoided looking into his father’s eyes. Perhaps he understood more than Albert thought.

He nodded. “Oldie Judy.”

“Oldie Judy?”

“Mama’s yellow cat. One day a dog took after her and chased her into the street. She was old and could hardly see nothin’ anymore. A wagon ran right over the top of her.”

Albert sat down on the sofa and pulled his son up next to him. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Nate’s lower lip trembled. “Mama and Nana put her in a shoe box lined with leaves from the garden. I held the box while Mama dug a hole next to the rose bushes.” His lips pulled down into a small frown as he recounted the tale. “When the hole was really deep, she put the lid on and set the box in the ground. We all helped put the dirt on top and Mama and Nana cried.”

Nate’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I see.” Shame for not being there for his son when he needed support pricked at Albert’s conscience.

Nate shrugged.

“Then you know that Oldie Judy was dead, and she was never coming back, right? That’s why your mother put her body in the box, so it could turn back to . . .” Maybe Nate didn’t need quite that much information.

Nate nodded even though Albert hadn’t finished the sentence.

“Well, it’s the same with your mama. Yesterday in the cemetery, her body was in the casket that was lowered into the ground, but her soul is now in heaven, with Oldie Judy. I’m sure she’s sitting somewhere in the sunshine with her cat asleep on her lap.” He wasn’t sure if animals went to heaven, but right now Nate needed something he could understand.

Nate gazed up at him listening. “And she’s petting her warm fur?”

Albert nodded. “I believe so.” He’d not been gifted with the strong virtue of faith like his mother had, but he did believe in the hereafter and heaven and hell. He attended church and said prayers now and then, even if it was just a glance up to the Almighty from the back of his horse. He had no experience speaking about God, especially with a son he’d just met. One who was grieving for a mother he’d just lost. “So then you understand that once her soul is up in heaven with God and Oldie Judy, it can’t ever come back down to earth. You won’t see her again until you die, and go to heaven, too.”

Nate was avoiding his gaze once more. Albert wanted to be sure his son had caught the jist of the conversation, without belaboring the fact. “Right, Nate? You understand?”

He nodded. “Then I can pet Oldie Judy, too, even though she’s dead.”

Warmth flushed Albert’s face as he gazed at the small person huddled by his side. “Well, not actually, son. In heaven she’ll be alive. Here her body is . . .”

Nate lifted his face to Albert’s. “I understand, Pa,” he said, patting Albert’s leg. His confused expression said perhaps he’d made matters worse.

Albert sucked in a deep breath for having conquered the difficult topic as best he could. Nate understood well enough for now. He wouldn’t be talking about the train, and getting his mother out, any longer.

A rapping on the doorjamb drew Albert’s gaze from Nate’s face to the open front door. Greg Hutton, the schoolmaster of Logan Meadows, stood on the porch—one that had been his just a few days before.

“Are you renting the place, Albert?”

Albert couldn’t tell if that was a smile or not. He hadn’t seen Greg since the cemetery, and knew he was most likely full of questions. “We are.”

Nate stood, the sadness on his face replaced with curiosity.

Greg gave Nate a hospitable smile. “Well, welcome to our street. Can I give you a hand with the things in the wagon?”

Again, a surge of emotion moved Albert. He’d felt he was being judged by most everyone he saw. So far, most had treated him fairly.

“I can use a hand.” He turned to Nate. “You stay out of trouble while we unload the wagon.” It felt so natural, speaking with his son, as if he’d known him all his life.

Once back out on the road, Greg stopped him with a touch to his arm. “I’m sorry, Albert. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

Albert wasn’t sure of his meaning. The end of his and Susanna’s relationship, or the death of his wife? It was a strange situation he was in. He decided he could live not actually knowing for sure. “I appreciate that, Greg. I’m just thankful to find this house empty and ready to be occupied. I’m taking it one day at a time.”

Greg nodded. “That’s all you can do. How old is your son? Will he be coming to school when we start back up?”

Albert let the April breeze waft over him, easing his heavy heart. It felt good, and calm. One way or the other, things would work out. They always did. They may not be to his liking, but then, he had to take the bad with the good. He smiled when he noticed Nate, his head barely over the bottom of the windowsill, watching them from the living room window. A blessing, to be sure.

“To tell you the truth, I’m not quite sure. I don’t even know my own son’s birthday yet. If he’s of age, and capable enough to keep up, then I’ll send him. As soon as I think he’s settled.” The sincerity in Greg’s eyes bolstered his confidence.

Greg gave him a winsome smile. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that. You know, children are a lot more resilient than us adults. Give him a few days and he may surprise you.”

“I sure hope so. Nate’s having a difficult time accepting Floria’s death. I’m not really sure how I should handle it.”

The smile slipped off his friend’s face. “He’s young. And the accident is still so fresh in his mind. He’s probably tussling with the fact that he was almost killed, as well. Give it time, Albert. Don’t rush him. With your love and support, he’ll come through, and be all the stronger for it.”

If only he could believe that. Of all of the recent happenings, his worry over the boy, and his lack of knowledge, was what had his gut in a knot. He didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Albert reached into the back of the wagon and pulled the remaining two trunks to the end of the tailgate. He took one and Greg took the other.

Nate was sitting on the couch looking at a book that had been on the coffee table when they arrived. His eyes lit up when he saw the trunk Greg had in his arms. “That’s my trunk,” he all but hollered, jumping up. “Can ya bring it into my room?”

Albert cut an apologetic look to Greg. As soon as Nate started school, he wouldn’t be directing his teacher around quite like that.

Greg just smiled. “Sure thing, Nate. I’d be happy to.”

Albert set his load down in his own room and hurried to Nate’s.

“Nice room you’re going to have.” The room was bare except for a small dresser and bed. “Where would you like me to set this?”