I have to apologize again, for the goo. Maria is a newlywed, and newlyweds are expected to ahem, hold hands and so forth.
I took a line directly out of THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE, one of my all-time favorite movies.
Late June 1882
Her pillow was moving, was her first thought that morning. She clung to it and buried her nose deeper into its comfort. She smiled. It smelled like Robert.
She grunted when she felt it moving again. Her pillow was gently extricating itself from her hold. She clutched it tighter, willing it to stay into place. Irritating pillow, she thought to herself.
"Honey, I gotta get up," the pillow said to her.
"Nuh uh," she mumbled in incoherent protest.
"But I do."
Her irritation melted into bliss when her pillow kissed her.
She kissed it back. When her pillow's fervor became more insistent, Maria opened her eyes.
It was most pleasant to be awakened by her husband in that way.
"Good morning," she said, grinning at him. She stretched out against him.
"Mmm," he replied. He kissed her again.
Maria discovered that this was the best part of being married. She and Robert had only been married for little over a week, and they could not stop kissing each other.
"I have to get up," Robert told her, although his tone was hesitant.
She thought that the smattering of hair on his chest was most fascinating. She let it curl around her finger.
"I'll have to get you out of your nightgown again if you keep that up," he said huskily.
She blushed against him.
He took her fingers and kissed them.
"I have to get up," he repeated.
She did not want him to, but she remained silent.
"Clay has a lead," he said.
Maria frowned. Mr. Mosby had been looking for Miss Florie and Miss Selena ever since they left town with little Lawrence Robert. They had disappeared during Maria and Robert's wedding.
"I've never seen Mr. Mosby this upset," Maria commented. Indeed, Mr. Mosby seemed ready to pounce on anyone that got in his way.
Of course, Miss Florie and Miss Selena might still be town if Mr. Mosby had not told them that he was giving the baby to Miss Jessup to raise. That, and if he had married Miss Florie as he ought to in the first place, Maria thought. She bit her lip. It was best to keep that to herself. She and Robert did not seem to agree on that point.
"Does Mr. Mosby know where they might have taken the baby?"
"Clay's been shaking a few trees," Robert said. He yawned, sitting up on the side of the bed. He pulled on his trousers and reached for his shirt.
Maria sat up, watching him. Her blood brother Newton had told her that Mr. Mosby had done more than "shake trees." He had threatened livelihoods for the sake of a bit of information. The town was wound tight. The baby had to be found, regardless of who might get hurt in the process.
"Are you sure you have to leave?" Maria asked.
"He's my best friend."
I'm your wife, Maria wanted to say, but she remained silent.
"Of course, I could stay for a few more minutes," Robert said with a naughty gleam in his eye. His fingers walked across the bed covers and up her back to a ticklish spot that only he knew about. She giggled involuntarily, trying to bat him away. He pounced on her and tickled her mercilessly, and soon he swallowed her giggles in a passionate kiss.
Afterward, Maria touched her swollen lips as Robert walked out the door of their room in the hotel. She pulled on her nightgown and frowned. This was the first time that they had not shared their breakfast together since they had been married.
"Newton, I don't what we are going to do. I just heard from Mr. and Mrs. Williams, and they are not going to move out of their apartment as they told us. Robert and I were only going to stay at the Lonesome Dove temporarily until they moved out. Now it seems that we will remain in the hotel. I know that Robert doesn't want to live there. But where shall we go? I truly do not want to live in the Ambrosia Club, although I will if I must. I went to visit Robert there once while we were courting and noticed that there were bullet holes in the ceiling. Imagine if you were in the room above. It's possible to be wounded through the floor. Although I can't be shot anymore, my dearest Robert might be in danger. I do not wish to tempt fate."
"Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be rambling this on to your husband?"
Maria frowned. "Robert is with Mr. Mosby." She felt it wise to leave it at that.
"Feel sorry for Florie and the baby," he commented.
"And Miss Selena. She is Lawrence Robert's nurse, after all."
The bounty hunter gave her a small nod. "Florie shouldn't have run off. If Mosby ever finds her, she can kiss that baby goodbye. He ain't gonna let her back in town."
"Maybe he can forgive her," Maria wished, rather than believed.
"Ain't likely."
Maria nodded at him. "I can understand why she left, though. I wouldn't want anyone taking my child and giving it to another woman to raise, even though Miss Jessup is highly elegant. If they don't find the baby soon, Miss Jessup will leave Curtis Wells. Uncle Josiah will mourn her loss, even though he won't admit it."
Her blood brother shrugged.
Maria bit her lip. She was not sure if she should be discussing this with her blood brother. "Do you suppose that Robert should spend this much time with Mr. Mosby? We've only just married."
"Mosby's paying him, ain't he? Man's gotta earn a living, Maria."
"I know, but . . . ."
"You should accept how things are."
"I feel silly because I'm jealous. I want him here with me, not gallivanting around with Mr. Mosby."
"Maybe he ought to be finding other work."
"Robert has captained Mr. Mosby's men for so long that I don't think he would know what else to do."
Her blood brother snorted. "It's a job, I guess. Ain't much of a job, at that, jumping through hoops for Mosby."
"But Newton, Robert is Mr. Mosby's good friend --"
"You ain't been around to see what Mosby and his bully boys do, have you? 'Spect you wouldn't like it much."
Maria bit her lip. She did see Mr. Mosby "supervise" a beating of her cousin Austin a long time ago. "Robert wouldn't harm anyone."
"He wouldn't harm you."
"What do you mean by that?"
The bounty hunter shrugged.
"Have you seen him manhandle anyone?" she asked with growing alarm.
"Nope."
"Then don't say such silly things."
"He doesn't stop Mosby's other men from doing it, though. Gotta wonder about a man that sits back and does nothing."
Maria's mouth tightened. "I've seen you sit here on this bench plenty of times until you're good and ready to do something about it."
"Got my reasons."
"As does my husband, I'm sure."
"Ain't no never mind to me," he said. His eyes looked off to the distance.
Maria stood up from the bench. She did not feel like talking to him any longer.
She did not say her goodbyes, but she turned her back on him and left.
"Honey, I have to go."
"But you've hardly touched your lunch --" Maria protested.
Mr. Mosby was standing in the doorway of the hotel. He looked at Robert expectantly.
"I'll eat later," Robert told her. He threw his napkin on the table.
"But what about the apartment --"
"We'll discuss that tonight." He kissed her on the cheek. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she said to his vanishing form.
She had nothing to do, and she was bored. She had visited her uncle at the newspaper office, cleaned up after him a bit, but she did not linger. She was Robert's wife now. Her duty was to take care of him, although there was little enough for her to do while they were staying at the Dove. There were only so many times that she could pick up his trousers from the floor and tidy the room.
Maria did not want to talk to her blood brother, for she was afraid he would continue to criticize her husband.
She did not know where her cousin Austin was. He left Curtis Wells a few days after the wedding. Josiah did not seem too concerned about his whereabouts, but still, Maria wondered. It was not good that her cousin should decide to leave town so soon after the disappearance of Miss Florie, Miss Selena, and the baby. She only hoped that Mr. Mosby would not jump to conclusions.
Her Robert was, of course, with Mr. Mosby trying locate the baby. Maria supposed that her husband did not have to spend the entire day with her. Some of the day, not just the evenings and the mornings, would be nice. She longed to be with her beloved, but he was off gallivanting with Mr. Mosby. She did not understand it. She loved her husband most passionately. Why did he have to run off? Was he tired of her already?
She longed to ask her blood brother's advice, but she was not talking to him. There was perhaps one person in town that she could ask, but Miss Jessup was distressed about the loss of the baby. Maria could not bother her. Who else was there left in town?
Maria decided that there was no one else. She would have to ask him anyway, but in such a way that he would not suspect.
His gaze diverted from hers as he saw her approaching.
"Newton," she nodded coolly.
He grunted, but he did not avert the direction of his eyes.
"It's a pleasant day, is it not?"
"Pleasant enough."
"Good." She sat down next to him.
He looked at her suspiciously, but he did not say anything.
"Before I was married, I used to go out into the woods to my reading tree. You remember, don't you, Newton? Now I suppose I shouldn't do that anymore because it wouldn't be proper. But it did give me time to reflect upon my books. At the end of this one particularly novel, Elizabeth marries the love of her life, Mr. Darcy." Maria paused in her story. She could see how enthralled he was. She cleared her throat, gambling that he did not know the novel. "Anyway, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were supposed to go live at Pemberly, but for some reason or another they had to stay with Mr. Darcy's best friend, Mr. Bingley --"
"Is there a point to all this? Ain't got all day."
"Hush, Newton. Anyway, while they were at Netherfield, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley would go out fox hunting or whatever English gentleman do and leave Elizabeth alone. Although fox hunting was a noble cause, Elizabeth felt very bad about this because she loved Mr. Darcy most passionately. She was afraid that he no longer loved her."
Her blood brother heaved a big sigh, but he remained silent.
Maria did not know how to interpret his sigh. She became alarmed.
"Well?" she asked.
"Well what?"
"Does Elizabeth have cause for alarm? Is Mr. Darcy tired of her already, although they've only been married a short time?"
"Hell, I dunno. What does the rest of the book say?"
"Oh, Newton, you're not supposed to skip to the end of the book."
"Then why are you bothering me with it?"
"Can't you discuss something for the sake of discussing it?"
"Ain't much for gab."
Maria knew that was true. "But in your opinion as a man, Newton, would a husband tire of his new bride so quickly?"
"He might, if she jawed at him all the time like you do."
Maria's lower lip quivered. Her blood brother confirmed her worst nightmare. Robert had already tired of her, and it was not even half of a month. She had to spend her entire lifetime with him, and she did not know what she could do to make herself more interesting.
Tears fell from her eyes as she reflected with horror upon the matter.
"What are you gushing for?"
She sniffed and dabbed her eyes. "Oh, it's nothing, Newton. I had something in eye."
"Hmmf."
"So what should Elizabeth do, do you think?"
"About what?"
"About making Mr. Darcy like her again?"
"How in the hell should I know?"
"Because you know everything, Newton."
"Hmmf."
"So what do you think?"
"About what?"
Her blood brother was trying her patience. "About Elizabeth, you silly."
"Who's Elizabeth?"
She sighed. "Oh, Newton. You're impossible."
He looked off aloofly.
She stood up and decided to seek help elsewhere.
She swore that she could see the faintest hint of a smile on her blood brother's lips.
"I don't know whatever I shall do, Maria," remarked Miss Jessup. "I would relinquish all rights to the child so long as he is well."
"I'm sure Lawrence Robert is fine," said Maria. "Miss Florie has him. And Miss Selena is very protective of the child. He should be well cared for."
Miss Jessup's delicate features clouded in dismay. "If those women should happen to resort to their former life, well, then that is no place for the upbringing of a child."
Maria had not considered that. "Surely Miss Florie has some money saved. Mr. Mosby did build her a house."
"That may be so, yet the money cannot last. Two women and a child . . . I fear for them. It is dangerous out there."
Maria did not want to think of what a woman without means would have to do to survive. Maria knew that she had been lucky, very lucky, that her life had turned out as well as it had. If she had not had people that cared for her, then Maria could have been in Miss Florie's condition.
"Miss Florie probably has no family that she can turn to . . ."
"It is more difficult for a woman alone than a man will ever know," sighed Miss Jessup.
A baby was even more helpless. Maria bit her lip. "I hope Mr. Mosby finds them soon."
"For Clay's sake, as well, my dear. I do fear for what will happen to Clay if he should not find his child. He's suffered a great deal in his life. He doesn't need another heartache such as this."
Maria did feel for Mr. Mosby, yet she felt that part of this was his own doing. "What will happen when he does find him? I know Mr. Mosby will find him eventually. Then what will he do with the child?"
"Why, care for the child of course."
Maria sniffed at that. As far as she could tell, Mr. Mosby had all but ignored the child. "If Mr. Mosby knows what is right, then he will be father to him. A child deserves to be loved. Mr. Mosby has a chance of being an excellent father, if only he could just see it."
Miss Jessup's mouth tightened, but she did not reply.
Maria feared that she had said too much. "I'm sure that the baby will be fine, Miss Jessup. Mr. Mosby will see to it."
Miss Jessup nodded, a frown marring her delicate features. She stared down at her hands in her lap. "I wish that I had been able to rear a child. It is one of my many regrets. Herbert will be so disappointed."
Maria had hoped that Miss Jessup would forget about her fiancé and concentrate on her uncle Josiah, but alas, that was not to be. Ever since her uncle found out that Miss Jessup was planning on taking Lawrence Robert for her own, he had snubbed her. He was not cooperating with Maria's plans, that was for certain.
"Herbert was expecting me to be home by now. I shall have to leave soon, in any case. I do hope Clay finds the baby . . . ."
"Mr. Mosby will attend your wedding with the baby, Miss Jessup."
"And you and Robert will come, too, my dear. Perhaps by then you will be expecting one of your own."
Maria blushed, but she doubted it. Robert was fast losing interest in her. Maria decided that she had to take matters in her own hands.
"Thank you, Miss Sadie," Maria said, hiding the precious bundle underneath her shawl. "You've been a great help. I'm sure this will work."
"Go on now, honey," Miss Sadie told her, shooing Maria out the of the back entrance of Miss Tywla's Sporting Club. "Good luck."
Although it was highly embarrassing to ask Miss Sadie for her help, Maria was glad that she took her into her confidence. The brunette woman was very kind, and she made some clothing suggestions that Maria found helpful. Miss Sadie assured her that all men enjoyed that color. Maria only hoped that her blush would not be same color as the nightgown she would don later that evening. Miss Sadie said that her new gown was modest. It may have been for Twyla's ladies, but it was more revealing than Maria ever dared.
Now all Maria had to do was secure a dinner table at the Dove. She sprinted the distance to the hotel.
"Miss Carpenter --"
"Amanda," Miss Carpenter corrected. "I'm not some old spinster. Call me 'Amanda.'"
"Very well, Miss, er, Amanda. I need a nice, quiet table this evening. I'm going to entertain my husband."
"Thought that was what you were doing up in your room each night," the hotel proprietress commented wryly.
Maria blushed. Her face matched the shade of the hidden garment underneath her shawl. Maria had thought that they had been quiet. "We haven't, um, disturbed any of your other patrons have we, I hope?"
Miss Carpenter laughed heartily. "Of course not. Everyone knows what newlyweds do behind closed doors."
Maria blushed deeper, if that was possible.
"Listen. I'll get you the best table in the house. It'll be a nice quiet corner, and you can have the finest meal we have," Miss Carpenter offered.
Maria flashed her a relieved and grateful smile. "Thank you, Miss, er, Amanda. This will be a night my dearest Robert will never forget."
Maria stared at the oil lamp. She had been watching the flickering light for ever so long. She knew every smudge that lined the hurricane glass. She glanced down at her utensils. She could see her dim reflection in her knife.
She swallowed and lifted her chin, trying to maintain her dignity.
Robert was not coming.
She was not going to sing Carmen later that night to him, she told herself. She was not going to say a single word.
"Maria," she heard Miss Carpenter gently say.
Maria looked up at her. She tried to remain nonchalant about the whole matter.
"Well, Miss Carpenter. I believe I will be ordering now."
"Call me 'Amanda,'" the hotel proprietor reminded her. "I received a message from your husband. He says to eat without him."
"I intend to."
"He says he should be back later tonight."
"He'd better," she mumbled.
Miss Carpenter frowned, and then she sat down in a chair at Maria's table. "Listen, honey. You just can't rely on a man to make you happy. In this world, you have to do things for yourself. You have to be the one to take action."
"I thought I was," Maria grumbled.
"You still can. He'll be back later. You'll see."
Maria sighed and gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Miss, er, Amanda."
"Good," Amanda smiled, standing up. "Now, what will you have?"
She pulled the covers up to her chin to keep out the chill. Her new nightgown provided little warmth.
She bit her lip, then grabbed for her glasses and her book on the nightstand. She decided that she should read after all.
He was not coming.
She cried while reading Lady Adriana's dialogue from the Comedy of Errors. Comedy of errors, all right, Maria thought to herself. It was downright tragic.
She fell asleep reading the book.
He still did not come.
She was startled when she felt the tug of her glasses being pulled from her face. She swung her book out in alarm.
"Ow!" Robert exclaimed, rubbing his nose. "Put that down. That's a dangerous weapon."
"Oh, Robert. I'm sorry," she said. Then she remembered that she was not supposed to be sorry.
She wondered how late it was.
"Did you find the baby?" she asked.
"No. It was a fool's errand," he said in fatigue, sitting on the edge of the bed. He took off his trousers.
Maria turned away from him.
She put her glasses on the nightstand, her book on the floor, and blew out the oil lamp before he finished undressing.
"Good night," she said as civilly as she could.
Silence answered her, but soon he was underneath the covers beside her. She felt his hand rest on her waist.
She tensed but pretended to be asleep.
She felt his warm breath on her neck as he snuggled up behind her. Her resolve weakened when he kissed the tender area beneath her ear.
"Mmm, you smell so good," he whispered.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing him to go away.
His hand teased along the curve of her waist and hip.
"What are you wearing?" he asked huskily. She had never wore satin before.
"Nothing," she answered.
"Well, if you insist . . . ." He tugged on the nightgown.
She slapped at his fingers, pulling away from him.
"I waited all evening for you. I had many plans for us, but you can forget about that now. I've done everything I can to make you love me, but it's no use. You don't love me anymore. Good night, Robert."
"Honey, what are you talking about?," he said, pulling her closer to him. "Of course I love you."
"You have a funny way of showing it. You'd rather be in the company of Mr. Mosby."
She felt his hand leave her waist.
"What do you want me to do?" he exclaimed. "I owe that man my life. When he needs my help, I will help him."
She felt that remark did not dignify a response. Mr. Mosby was not his wife. She had certain claims on Robert that were all her own.
"It's his child, Maria. Don't you understand?"
"He didn't seem to care until the baby left."
"That's not true."
"Did he ever hold Lawrence Robert -- your namesake -- in his arms? For goodness sake, why did he even name the baby that if he didn't want to acknowledge him?"
'Maria," he said with great patience, "Clay did not name the baby. Florie did. She is the one that wanted to tie the baby to Clay in everyway she could."
"As she should. One can tell of parentage of that baby just by looking at him. Give him twenty years to grow a beard, and he'll look just like Mr. Mosby. Why, the baby had a smudge on his face the other day, and he was the mirror image of him, especially when he rubbed his lower lip with his pudgy little fist. Oh, Robert, he was so cute."
He laughed. "Honey, this is nonsense. We can be making our own little babies right now if you'll just cooperate. Come over here," he said huskily.
"No, I'm still angry at you. You left me to wait all alone, and I felt like a fool. Miss Amanda looked at me with pity in her eyes when she delivered the news that you weren't coming. And I am wearing this nightgown for nothing."
"Well, we can't have that. I'll help you get out of it."
"No," she said obstinately.
She felt his breath caress the length of her neck. "Are you sure I can't persuade you somehow?"
"No," she repeated, her tone softening.
He slid his lips down the length of her neck. He eased the strap off from her shoulder with his teeth.
"How about now?"
She made some mindless reply as he tugged her nightgown slowly from her body.
"Very well, Robert. Just this once."
He laughed. "I like your gown."
"I knew you would."
"I like it better off of you."
"Oh, Robert . . . oh, my!"
When Maria woke early in the morning, she saw her nightgown lying on the floor where Robert had tossed it. It was a naughty color, she admitted to herself. Still, it could not be as naughty as falling asleep in the all together next to her husband. The coolness of her skin was a strange feeling. Blushing, she tried not to disturb her husband as she reached for her gown on the floor. He grunted and tightened his hold on her waist. She tried again, this time using her book as tool to maneuver the gown towards her. She finally succeeded grasping onto the gown when he muttered into her ear.
"Honey, go back to sleep."
"I have to put on my gown."
"Leave it."
"What if there was a fire?"
He grunted and yawned, pulling her back toward him. "Mmm, leave it. Sleep."
Maria sighed, clutching the gown to her chin. Perhaps she would wait until he turned over. She blushed. He knew her intimately, but she still found it difficult to dress in front of him. Especially when it was something like this.
She blushed, remembering how she enjoyed watching her husband dress. She thought that he was beautiful. And she always liked it when he grinned at her.
She turned around to face him. He looked so much like a boy when he slept. He had a cute little curl that fell across his forehead. She fingered it, brushing it gently back into his sandy mane.
She began to hum. Without opening his eyes, he smiled and pulled her to him, patting her gently on her backside.
She hummed a little while longer and fell asleep in the crook of his arm.
"You were going to wear that for me?" Robert asked, grinning at her.
Holding the covers to her chin, Maria made a grasp for her nightgown, but Robert held it out of her reach.
"Where did you get this?"
Maria blushed hotly and decided to answer his first question. "I would wear it for you now, if you'll just give it back."
"Tell me first where you got it."
"Turn around, and let me put it on."
"I daresay you didn't get this at Creel's General Store."
"An old peddlar woman gave it to me, if you must know," she lied.
"Right. Then I would caution you about eating her apples. Sounds like a dangerous old woman." He gave her back her gown. She hid it underneath the covers.
"You don't like it?" Maria asked, frowning.
He grinned at her. "How about you parade that in front of me, and we'll see."
Maria made a face at him. She tried to dress herself underneath the sheets, but without much success. "Look the other way, Robert," she finally said.
"Whatever for?"
She blushed and shyly averted her gaze. "Please, Robert."
He grinned. "I have seen you, you know."
She felt her skin flush.
"Please?"
"Oh, all right." He complied with her wishes.
She donned her nightgown, ready to snatch the bedcover if he should try to peek. He turned to face her just as her gown rustled to the floor. She quickly covered herself with the corner of the sheet.
"Robert!"
"How were you going to show this to me last night if you can't show it to me now?"
"That's different. It was relatively dark. Now it's the light of day."
"Show me, honey."
"I can't."
"Show me." His eyes twinkled. He began to get out of bed. "If you'll show me, I'll show you . . . ."
Maria blushed, unable to suppress her grin. "Robert . . . ."
Before anything good came out of his threat, a knock on the door echoed throughout the room. Maria dove underneath the covers as Robert frowned. He quickly donned his trousers as the knock became more insistent.
"Just a minute," he said irritably.
He stalked over to the door and opened it enough to see who was outside. Maria could see Mr. Zeke. He was holding his hat.
"Mr. Mosby says he needs to see you right away," he said.
Robert swore under his breath. "Can't this wait?"
"He says it's urgent."
"Of course he does." He sighed. "Tell him I'll be over there in a minute."
Mr. Zeke nodded.
Robert shut the door. Maria threw off the covers and stalked over to the screen. She fumbled with the fastenings on her nightgown.
"Honey --"
She flung her nightgown over the screen. She grabbed her chemise and corset.
"Maria."
She did not respond as she tied her corset and reached for her blouse. She hopped into her skirt and tucked her in blouse.
She stepped out from the screen.
"Put your shirt on, Robert. You can't go out like that."
"Maria --"
"I suggest that you get some breakfast. You are likely to have a long day. I'm sure whatever Mr. Mosby wants you to do requires your full attention."
He swore. "We'll talk about this later."
"I'm sure we will. Probably after I'm asleep. Like last night. But you can bet I'm not going to be wearing anything special tonight. You'll have something nice and wooly to cozy up to instead."
"Maria, you don't understand --"
"I understand well enough. You'd rather be with Mr. Mosby. That's fine. You go off and be with him."
"Damn it. You're not being fair. I told you that we're trying find the baby."
"It wouldn't matter if it was the baby or something else. Go on, Robert. Mr. Mosby is missing you. Like I will be, after you leave."
Robert swore again. He grabbed for his shirt and slammed the door.
Maria winced and sank down to her knees.
The Delaneys were leaving their apartment above the apothecary shop. Maria had never considered living in the same building as a druggist, but it might have its advantages. Robert and she would always have the latest remedies at their disposal.
"I need to know right away whether you want the rooms," Mr. Orth said. "Gotta another young couple interested in the place."
Maria frowned. "I need to talk to my husband first." She did not know how she was to talk to Robert. She did not know where he was, and furthermore, whether he was still speaking to her. She had been rather harsh when they spoke last.
"Sure, Mrs. Shelby, but I'd be in a hurry. This is a eager young couple. But then, I suppose, so are you and Mr. Shelby."
Maria tried to smile at that. "Yes, I suppose so. Is it possible that I may discuss this later with you? I really need to speak with my husband."
Mr. Orth nodded. "Tell me your decision by three."
Maria nodded. It was noon, and she had no idea where her husband was.
The apartment seemed right for them. It was big enough for the two of them, and she had access to a stove. There was also a little plot of earth to work out in the back. She wondered if she ought to make the decision for them right now.
She bit her lip and left Mr. Orth. She looked for her husband at the Ambrosia Club and left a message with the barkeep. The deadline was soon approaching. She wondered what she ought to do. Perhaps she needed to consult a man's opinion about the matter if she could not talk to her own husband.
Luckily, her blood brother was talking to Mr. Root on the boardwalk. Perhaps Mr. Root's opinion would be of value, too.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Maria interrupted.
"Why if it ain't the new bride," Mr. Root exclaimed. "How's married life treating you, Maria?"
"We're busy, Maria," her blood brother spat. "What do you want?"
Mr. Root whacked the bounty hunter's hat into the street. The blood man ran after it with an annoyed look on his face.
Maria withheld her giggle. "Thank you, Mr. Root. Listen, I need a man's opinion on something."
By that time, her blood brother returned, brushing the dust off his hat. "Why don't you ask your own man?" he said.
"Hold on, Call. Let's hear her out."
Maria nodded her gratefulness at Mr. Root. "But that's just it. I don't know where Robert is, but I need to make a decision for us both without consulting him."
"What is it?" her blood brother asked.
"Mr. Orth is offering us an apartment, but he wants an answer before three."
"How much does it cost?" the blond man asked.
"What does that matter? I have the money for it."
Newton and Mr. Root exchanged glances. Her blood brother shook his head. "Ain't such a good idea."
"Why not?"
The men exchanged another glance.
"Wouldn't want my wife footing the bill," Mr. Root commented.
"But I have the money for it. What is mine is his."
"Best be talking to your husband about money," Newton said. "My guess is, he wouldn't like it much."
"I don't understand," Maria sighed, crestfallen.
"Sounds to me like you already knew what you wanted us to say."
"Newton, that's not true. I just wanted your advice."
"Gave it to you. Whether you take it or not is your affair."
"I just want us to be happy."
"Hurting a man's pride ain't the way to go about it," her blood brother said as he looked off aloofly.
"I want us to be happy," Maria repeated.
The blond man shrugged. "Come on, Luther."
Mr. Root nodded. He gave Maria a pat on the back, which sent her forward a couple of steps. "Good luck, Maria."
"Thank you," she said.
She was not sure if she really meant it.
"Well, what will it be? Do you want the apartment, or don't you?" Mr. Orth asked.
Maria frowned, near to tears. She was unable to locate Robert. "I'm sorry, Mr. Orth. I'm afraid I can't accept without speaking to my husband about it."
"That's too bad. The place would've been perfect for you. Well, good luck to you and Mr. Shelby."
Maria nodded to him as he stepped back into the apothecary shop.
She had the sinking feeling that she had made a mistake.
She had wanted to tell Robert all about their missed opportunity, but she had not seen him. He was gone for supper, and he did not return to their room after sundown.
She had wondered if she had made a bigger mistake earlier that morning when she was so harsh with him.
She tried to keep her tears from falling as she pulled the covers to her chin.
She sighed with relief when she heard to Robert's key in the lock. She pulled the covers above her head. She did not want him to know that she had been crying.
He did not light the lamp. She heard his heavy footsteps across the floor. With a muttered curse, he fell on the bed.
She could not pretend to sleep, for he fell almost on top of her. He smelled different than he normally did . . . .
"Robert!" she admonished. "Strong spirits!"
"Not sstrong enuff," he said.
She pushed him off from her. She lit the oil lamp on the nightstand.
He moaned, covering his eyes.
She frowned at him, wondering what to do. She had seen Austin come home plenty of times like this, and the best thing to do was to let him sleep it off.
She could not let her husband sleep in his clothes. She began to unbutton his shirt as his hands tried to bat her away. She gasped when she saw it.
"Robert, have you been fighting?" she asked. His eye looked terrible.
"Basstard told me I was a crackkker, and I wasssn't good enuff. Damn Yankee. Owww!" he moaned as she delicately touched his eye. "That hurt!"
"I'm sorry, my dearest. Perhaps we should have Dr. Cleese look at it."
"No damn docctors. I don't want no damn docctors. I want some whisskey. You'll give it to me, won'tcha, honey?"
"You've had plenty. You just need some sleep."
"No, no. I really want some. You'll give it to me, won'tcha, honey?"
Maria could not help but smile at him. "You'll have a bad headache in the morning."
"Whadya mean? I already doo."
"Now lie back, and rest your eyes."
"But I don't wanna, honey. Shay, you're awful cuute. Come over here on my side of the bedd, and give me a big ole kish. Right here on my lipfs." He puckered his lips.
Maria smiled at him. She helped him lie back down in the bed. She kissed him on the forehead. "Now go to sleep."
He grunted at her.
She tucked the covers around him, and before she could say good night, she heard his snore.
It was unlike him to sleep in so late. She had been up for hours. She bit back her smile as she tore open the curtains. It was a beautiful and bright Montana June day.
She heard his moan before she turned to greet him.
He muttered something to her.
"What was that, dearest?" Maria asked.
"Shut . . . the . . . damn . . . curtains!" he snapped as he pulled the covers over his eyes.
"Is the light bothering you? My goodness, I'll close them immediately. But let me have a look at your eye first."
"I'm fine," he spat out.
"Now let me see," Maria said with great patience.
He lowered the covers for a fraction of a second before he snapped them over his eyes. "There, satisfied?"
"Don't be silly, Robert. Let me look at it."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
She clicked her tongue. "I didn't make you drink the night away."
"The hell you didn't."
Maria frowned at him.
He groaned. "My head is pounding."
"No, dearest, that's the door. I'll get it. You're in no condition."
Maria opened the door to find Mr. Zeke standing there. He clearly did not expect her to answer the door. He stepped back, hat in his hands.
"Mrs. Shelby, ma'am," he said, wringing his hat. "Is Mr. Shelby in?" He tried to look past her, but Maria was having none of it.
"My husband is quite ill," Maria said, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the hall. "He is not receiving visitors."
"But Mr. Mosby said --"
"Naturally whatever Mr. Mosby said is of great importance, but surely Mr. Mosby can understand that my husband can be no help to him when he is ill. My husband is not receiving visitors."
"Mr. Mosby won't like this."
"I'm sure that he won't. But my husband should recover after a good days rest and be back in Mr. Mosby's service tomorrow. Now, I must tend to my husband. Good day to you, Mr. Zeke."
She stepped inside their room, quite pleased with herself.
"Who was that?" Robert snapped, trying to shut out the light with his forearm.
"Mr. Zeke," she said as she closed the curtains.
Robert cursed as he threw off the covers. He attempted to sit up, but he clutched his head and groaned.
"Lie back down, dearest."
"I have to go."
"Not today you don't. You're ill, and I've told Mr. Zeke so. If Mr. Mosby has a problem with that, he can take it up with me."
"It's just a hangover. Clay's had plenty of them. He'll know it's nothing."
"Lie back down, Robert," Maria commanded. "You are looking quite green. It will not do to have you sick in this room. Whatever will I tell Miss Amanda?"
He grunted and fell back down on his pillow.
"Get some sleep, dearest. I'll watch over you."
He grunted again.
After a moment, he asked quietly, "What would you do with me if I did get sick?'
"I'd feel very sorry for you and would hope I could help in some way. Do you think you will?"
He sighed and shook his head. His eyes closed.
She gently kissed his forehead. His eye did look rather nasty.
She parted the curtains slightly. This time, Robert did not moan. He did sit up.
"I saved you some biscuits. Perhaps I could have Miss Amanda send us up some tea and coffee."
He nodded.
"Feeling any better, my dearest?"
He nodded.
"Good, it's afternoon. Do you think you can get up and walk around a bit?"
"I'm not an invalid. My head was just aching."
"Oh, Robert! I can see why it does. Your eye looks just terrible. Oh, dearest, perhaps we really should have Dr. Cleese look at it."
"I'm fine," he snapped.
She sighed. "Oh dear. You are as ornery as Newton. I hope you've learned your lesson about imbibing strong spirits."
He shook his head. "I wouldn't have needed to if I thought I had a home to return to."
Maria frowned at that. "Robert, I was wrong, and I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. You must know that you can always return to me. But what you say about not having a home may literally be true. I'm afraid I have bad news. I had to refuse the apartment that Mr. Orth was offering because I couldn't talk to you first. It would have been perfect for us. It wouldn't have been too much money, especially considering my inheritance. But I refused it. Newton advised me to wait for you, and I did. I'm afraid that I might have made a big mistake. Don't you think we could have easily afforded it?"
She knew that he did not like to discuss using her money, but she felt that he needed to be reminded that her money was theirs.
"Do you mean the apartment over the apothecary's?" he asked. "I looked at it, and I didn't like it."
"What do you mean? It was perfect," Maria argued. "It even had a stove and a little land out back. We could have afforded it."
"There is no 'we,' Maria. I'm the one that has to take care of you. And yes, I could have afforded it, but I had my reasons for not liking the place."
Maria felt rather affronted about his "I-not-we" statement, but she chose not to belabor that point. "And why didn't you like the apartment?"
"For God's sake, it's next to the whore house. I don't suppose you know what goes on there late at night, and I don't want you knowing what goes on there late at night."
Maria blushed. "I suppose they do what you and I do."
He grinned at her. "Well, yes. Only they don't bother to pull the blinds. Women are paid to service these men. I don't want some drunken filthy hand knocking our door by mistake at night. Dear God, and if you should be alone --" She saw his fist tighten in anger. "Well, I won't have it. I want to keep you some place safe."
Maria admitted that he did have a point. "But where? You've lived in Curtis Wells. There is usually some sort of stabbing or shooting or other such mayhem. Although, as you know, I can't be shot again, so I'm quite safe in that regard."
He gave her a concerned look. "You'd better not. No, I was thinking of a different place other than Orth's. I was hesitant to mention it. I don't think you'll like it."
"Where is it?"
"Honey, keep in mind that it's only temporary . . ."
Maria groaned. "Please, not the Ambrosia Club. There are bullet holes in the floor."
Robert smiled. "No, not with Clay. But it's on the outside of town. It's nowhere near any saloons or whorehouses or the like, and you can run around in that red nightgown of yours to your heart's content and my satisfaction. There's a stove, and there is some land to work, as well."
"It sounds perfect, Robert. But what could be the problem?"
"It's even less expensive than what Orth was offering. And it was also well kept by the former occupant."
"What's wrong with it, Robert?"
"And you'll have UnBob there during the day. You like UnBob, don't you?"
"The livery? I'm afraid I don't understand. There's no stove in the livery."
"No," he said slowly. "Not the livery."
Maria began to comprehend what Robert was suggesting. "Do you mean to tell me that you want us to live above the undertakers?" she asked incredulously.
"Now, honey. It's only temporary."
"You want us to live above dead people?" she repeated.
"Yes," Robert answered. "Be practical. They're only bodies. They can't hurt you."
"Obviously, you've never read any Edgar Allan Poe," Maria said wryly.
He sighed. "I was afraid of this. There is nothing that can hurt you. It's not like you'd have anything to do with them, anyway. We would just live above them."
Maria frowned. "I don't know, Robert. The thought is rather unnerving."
"There's nothing to be frightened of --"
"No, nothing but the raven, knock, knock, knocking on my chamber door. Or the late Annabel Lee or perhaps Miss Usher coming up the steps. Sounds absolutely perfect."
"You know nothing like that happens in the real world. How many birds do you know that talk, let alone say, 'Nevermore'? Please, Maria."
He did have a point, Maria thought to herself. "It is a well known fact that parrots have the ability to vocalize --"
"Maria," Robert said with great patience. "There are no parrots in Curtis Wells, let alone at the undertakers. I assure you, nothing of that sort will happen when we live there."
Maria frowned. "It appears to me that you've already made a decision about this."
He sighed. "I can't afford for us to keep living here, honey. We don't have a choice."
"We do have a choice. We could use my money --"
"No," he snapped.
"But --"
"No," he repeated. "What kind of man do you think I am?"
Maria did not answer for a moment. "A proud one. A good one. Oh, Robert. I love you. I just want what is best for us."
He sighed. "Honey, we have to move out of here. We have no choice. We have to live above the undertakers until we can find something more permanent."
Maria did not know if what he was suggesting was a good idea. "You'll be with me all the while?"
"Yes, of course."
"But if you should come in late . . . oh, Robert, I don't know. It frightens me."
"There's nothing to be scared of."
"I don't want to be alone there."
"You'll never need to be."
"You can't possibly foresee if you should be late. What if Mr. Mosby should need you? No. If you don't get home by a certain time, then I will have to stay at my uncle's. Is that agreed? I will not stay there alone."
Robert smiled. "Of course. But I've been told a lady gunsmith used to live there all by herself without any trouble."
Maria believed that she knew who Robert was referring to. "But Miss Shaw knew how to handle a gun. All I have is the dictionary that Uncle Josiah gave us for our wedding. You try throwing a book at a ghost."
He laughed at her. "There are no such things as ghosts. And a bullet would hardly stop a ghost if there was one. And believe me. You don't need to handle a gun. A dictionary is a dangerous thing in your hands. I've seen you in action."
Maria smiled shyly at him.
He held out his arms, and she happily sat on his lap.
"Everything will be all right, honey."
"If you say so."
"Where's your cousin?" Mr. Mosby demanded.
Alarmed, Maria turned around to face him. She had been ordering some food for her husband. Mr. Mosby was wearing his leather duster and had a foul expression on his face. That was never a good sign.
"Well, where's Austin?" he repeated, pulling her to a remote corner of the dining room.
Maria frowned. "I can't really say. He's --"
"If I find that you withheld information from me . . . . " he interrupted. "Your cousin better not be involved in this."
Maria knew that Mr. Mosby had to be referring to the lost Lawrence Robert.
"Austin would never -- " she began, her voice indignant.
"Oh, wouldn't he?" he said, a sneer on his lips. "Austin would do just about anything to spite me. You know that."
"He wouldn't kidnap your baby, Mr. Mosby."
"He'd certainly help Florie."
"Austin did not do anything. He's out of town."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"If there's something you're not telling me . . . ."
Maria's mouth tightened in anger. "I just recently wed. Although I care about my cousin, I can't really say that his whereabouts are my first priority. I would like to concentrate on my husband, but you have made that difficult as of late."
Mr. Mosby's butternut eyes narrowed. "Well, pardon me, but I rather think that my business is more important than yours."
Maria nodded in agreement. "You are right, Mr. Mosby. The baby is more important. I'm glad you finally realized that."
She tried to turn away from him, but he was having nothing of it. He grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her to face him.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Maria had just about enough of this. First, he threatened her cousin, and now he was irate with her. It was about time someone told him the truth.
"You know very well what I'm talking about. If you had treated Lawrence Robert properly to begin with --"
"Who are you to tell me how to raise my child?"
" -- and give him YOUR name, then perhaps none of this would ever have happened."
His grip tightened on her as he glowered.
"Leave her alone, Mosby," Newt Call said in no uncertain terms. He had appeared out of nowhere.
Maria looked over to her blood brother. His icy gaze was centered on the town proprietor. Mr. Mosby was equally as irritated with the bounty hunter. He glared at him for a moment, and his grip loosened on Maria.
"Forgive me. I forgot myself," he said through gritted teeth.
"Forgive me as well. You're under a great deal of stress," Maria remarked, her tone still tinged with anger.
He nodded. She nodded. He left.
Maria shook her head as the door shut behind him. "Upon my word, Newton. He is out of control. He's never acted that way with me before."
Her blood brother shrugged, and he sat down at a table. She sat down beside him as she waited for the Robert's food to be prepared.
"Do you know that Mr. Mosby had the nerve to interrogate me about Austin's whereabouts? Austin would never be involved with this."
"You never can tell."
"Oh please, Newton. You don't seriously think Austin had anything to do with this."
He shrugged again.
Maria harrumphed at him. "I think that Mr. Mosby is just angry at himself because he realizes that he shouldn't have ignored his child all this time. I still say that he should have married Miss Florie. That precious baby deserves much better than what Mr. Mosby has given him."
Her blood brother did not reply for a moment. His face looked stricken. "He'll always be a bastard."
Maria's eyes narrowed at him, wondering whether he meant Mr. Mosby or the baby or even himself.
"Oh, Newton," she sighed, patting his hand.
He pulled away, looking off aloofly.
"That's just plain silly, Newton. A man is judged by his merits. He is esteemed by his actions, not his birthright."
"Then why is it so important to you that Mosby marry Florie?"
"Because of those very silly people that will judge by the unseen. The baby should not have a more difficult life than need be. Mr. Mosby is perfectly capable of rectifying the situation, if he'll only do it. And you know very well that Lawrence Robert would be better off knowing his father."
He shrugged. "Not with Mosby as his pa."
"Now stop that, Newton. Mr. Mosby will make an excellent father once he comes to his senses."
He harrumphed at her.
"Now, as to my children -- they will know their father and their mother, and I shall I say it, their blood uncle."
He nodded. "I guess Josiah would like the little ankle biters."
"Yes, he would, but I mean you, you silly. They will call you 'Uncle Newton,' and they will adore you so, as I do. Imagine -- you bouncing one on each knee as you sit at your bench. What a delightful prospect."
He wore a look of long suffering.
"Don't worry, Newton. You'll have your own someday. I was rather hoping that Robert and I would have a daughter that would eventually marry little Lawrence Robert, but can't you see how perfect it would be if your daughter would marry him? Oh, what unbounded joy!"
The blond man, with a look of misery, shook his head and stood up. He held up his hands, as if to ward her off.
"Sit back down, Newton. The food for my husband is finally ready. I need to deliver it to him before it gets cold."
"Then git."
"I shall. Think of the happy prospect of little children scampering about your feet."
"The only thing scampering around here had best be you. Now git."
"Thank you for saving me from Mr. Mosby's wrath."
He waved her away.
She laughed at him as she bounded up the stairs with Robert's supper.
"Did you talk to Clay? I saw him leave the hotel from out our window," Robert said as she stepped through the door.
Maria put the food on the end table. "Mmm. It smells delicious. I might have to steal a chicken wing."
"Did you talk to Clay?" he repeated.
"I had a few words with him, yes."
"What did he say? Did he ask about me?"
Maria bit her lip. "No, he was preoccupied. I'm sure he sends his regards. He is quite overwrought with the baby, you see."
He nodded. "Did he say anything about that?"
"Not really. He is under a great deal of stress."
Robert sighed.
Maria frowned. "Eat your supper, my dearest, before it gets cold."
"I should have helped him today."
"From the way Mr. Mosby was behaving, I doubt there was little you could have done to help him. He's under a great deal of stress."
"I could have lent him a hand."
Maria curled onto the bed next to him. "Do I have to feed you myself? Your friend can wait for one day. You need nourishment." She dangled a chicken leg in front of him.
"Evil temptress. I know what I need to take a bite out of."
Maria giggled at him. "Eat your supper, dearest. We'll talk about dessert later."
"Mmmm, can't wait."
He winced when she touched the scar on his shoulder.
"I didn't hurt you, did I, Robert?"
"No," he said, kissing her fingers.
"Your eye really looks terrible," she said.
He grinned at her. "I've been in worse scrapes than that."
"Like this?" she said, nodding at the scar on his shoulder.
He winced almost imperceptibly. He cleared his throat. "Yes, and others come to mind."
Her hand traveled from his chest down to his tummy. "Tell me."
"You know about that one," he said, stopping her fingers. "A wolf attacked me."
"I know, but what were you doing before the wolf attacked you? You've never said."
He did not answer for a moment.
"I was . . . traveling."
"Traveling where?"
"Here and there."
"Were you in Montana?"
"Sometimes. Listen, Maria --"
"What were you doing?"
"Maria, I'd rather not --"
"It must have been so difficult being on the run all that time. I would hate being away from home for so long." She nuzzled him against his chest. "You probably had to hide and change your name. You probably had to do all sorts of odd jobs --"
"I don't want to talk about it," he said, turning away from her.
She frowned at him. "You were unjustly accused, Robert. It is nothing to be ashamed of. They were going to hang you."
His back was to her. She could see faint scars of what was undoubtedly a prior lashing, or perhaps several. Her fingers traced them. She could feel him tense.
"Honey, don't."
"Did you get these in the War?"
He cleared his throat. "Some of them."
"Who else hurt you?" she demanded, a fierce need to protect him nearly overwhelming her.
"It doesn't matter. The son of a bitch is dead. Best thing to come out of the War, really."
Maria sighed, pulling closer to him. "I wish they hadn't beat you."
"It's not something I particularly relished, either."
"I wish I could have helped you after the War."
She heard a wry laugh escape his lips. "How old were you then?"
Maria thought about it for a moment. "Maybe seven or eight."
He turned around and settled on top of her. "I'm an old man compared to you."
She smiled at him, blushing. "Oh, you're young enough, Robert."
He grinned. "You know, I've heard of men begetting children when they're eighty or ninety years old."
"I certainly hope that you don't intend to wait that long."
He threw back his head and laughed.
"No, Mrs. Shelby. I don't."
She held Robert's hand as they waved goodbye to the departing stagecoach. Maria dabbed her eye with her handkerchief.
"We'll see Olivia in Denver, honey," Robert said, patting her hand.
"I know. I just worry about Uncle Josiah. He will not take this well." Earlier, Maria had seen him peek out behind a curtain while they were saying their farewells. "Do you think we could invite him to dinner tonight? I'm sure he will be lonely."
"Of course. It's been a --"
"Robert," Mr. Mosby interjected, his voice terse. "If I may have a word with you."
Maria bit her lip. "Mr. Mosby, will you dine with us tonight at the Dove? I plan to invite my uncle. It should be the four of us. Hopefully, a dinner will cheer us up from the loss of Miss Jessup."
"Thank you, but I don't have time for social engagements."
"Come now, Clay. Dinner won't kill you."
"Please do come, Mr. Mosby. It wouldn't be the same without you."
He hesitated. "I wouldn't be good company."
"Nonsense, Clay. You have to eat."
"You know they always serve filet mignon on the second Wednesday of every month," Maria added.
"It's Tuesday," Mr. Mosby wryly informed her.
"They will have pie. I'll speak to the cook. She'll make something special for you," Maria said. "Oh, please come, Mr. Mosby."
He frowned for a moment, then said reluctantly, "All right, if only for an hour."
Maria and Robert glanced at each other. Robert patted his friend on the back.
"Let's go, Robert," Mr. Mosby said. They turned to leave, and then Mr. Mosby turned back to her, tipping his hat. "Until this evening, Mrs. Shelby."
Maria smiled at him, nodding in turn. "Mr. Mosby."
She grinned at her husband.
Then they left.
The dinner had gone well, Maria thought to herself the following afternoon. Eating at the Lonesome Dove Hotel was one thing, but Maria wondered how she was ever going to eat at the new apartment knowing there were dead people downstairs. She shrugged. That could not be helped, she supposed. But she could change the curtains. The curtains were definitely dismal.
Maria was fingering some fabric in Mr. Creel's general store when something caught her attention outside. Mr. Mosby's men were dragging a man to the pump. Mr. Mosby stalked among them.
Mr. Creel came up behind her, gripping a broom. "They are going to beat that man in front of everyone. They're going to make an 'example' out of him. That bastard Mosby. Someone needs to stop him."
Maria frowned, wondering who the man was. She craned her neck to get a better view. She gasped.
She was barely aware of the shatter of glass behind her as she ran out of the store.
"Austin!" she shouted.
She elbowed her way through Mr. Mosby's men. Mr. Zeke and Mr. Pratt held her cousin as Mr. Mosby beat him. Robert stood nearby. He looked upon the proceedings with disapproval, but he did nothing to stop his friend. He did not see Maria.
She looked at her husband in disbelief. How could he just stand there?
One of the new men Mr. Thompson grabbed Maria by the waist, preventing her from interfering.
"Damn you, tell me where they are!" Mr. Mosby shouted as he backhanded Austin. Blood trickled down the corner of Austin's mouth. His lips upturned in a smirk.
Furious, Mr. Mosby hit Austin again.
Maria stomped on Mr. Thompson's foot and wrestled out from his grasp.
"Why, you little --" he growled as he yanked her back.
She clawed at her assailant, kneeing him. As he doubled over, she tried to launch herself upon Mr. Mosby, but a furious Mr. Thompson wheeled her around and punched her.
The last thing that she saw was the pump housing rushing to greet her as she fell.
"How is she?" was the first thing she heard. It was Mr. Mosby's voice.
"How in the hell do you think?" Robert growled. "She hasn't woke up yet."
"Robert, I --"
"Save it, Clay. What were you thinking anyway? You don't go beating people up in the middle of the street."
"Your sanctimony astonishes me, Robert," Mr. Mosby replied coldly. "You stood there and watched until your wife showed up. Then you pistol-whipped one of my men in broad daylight. I hardly think you have any right to sermonize."
"She's my wife, damn it."
"And he's my son."
Robert remained silent for a moment. "Do you really think that you were helping your son by beating a man in the middle of the street? Just what in the hell were you trying to prove?"
"You know damned well that Austin knows --"
"Austin knows nothing. He was baiting you, Clay."
"He knows," Mr. Mosby insisted, a hard edge to his voice. "He will tell me, by God, or he will hang."
"Oh, I see," Robert said, his tone equally icy. "Put him in jail, beat him up a bit, and then kill him. Our captors taught you well."
Maria wanted desperately to open her eyes to see Mr. Mosby's reaction, but the men thought that she was still asleep. They needed to finish their discussion without any interference from her.
"So you're turning on me as well, Robert," Mr. Mosby said, his voice dangerous.
"You forget who you are talking to," Robert responded angrily. "What the hell happened to you, Clay? You've never behaved like this before."
"Spare me your self-righteousness. You were never above disciplining one of the men when they got out of line."
"That was war --"
"And don't you forget what we did for over a decade after New Orleans. You were anxious to steal Yankee gold as much as I was. But your memory is convenient when it comes to that matter, isn't it? I don't suppose you want her to find out about that, now do you?"
"Leave Maria out of this," Robert snarled. "Remember, you're as guilty as I was, Clay. That kind of life is over for us both. I have a family now, and you have your town. I suggest you leave it alone."
"People change, Robert."
"Don't I know that. Tell me, Clay. Do you ever sit up at night and think about what you've become?"
Mr. Mosby became very quiet for a moment. "Sometimes I think of nothing but that." He cleared his throat. "But as you said, that life is over."
"Damn it, Clay. What would Mary think?"
"Leave her out of this," Mr. Mosby snarled.
Maria thought it was wise to wake up at that moment. She moaned loudly, and when she opened her eyes, she moaned for real. The room was spinning, her husband and Mr. Mosby with it.
Soon Robert clasped her hand. "Honey, you all right?" he asked tenderly, kissing her good cheek.
She nodded, but it only made the spinning worse. She held her hand out to where she thought that Mr. Mosby was, motioning him to her.
"Mr. Mosby," she whispered, her voice hoarse. She made a grab for his hand, but kept missing it. Mercifully, he took her hand. She squeezed both of the men's hands.
"Mr. Mosby," she said again. He knelt down to hear her. "You'll find him," she said. "I promise."
From what she could see of his face, his expression softened. "Go on now. My prayers are with you, but I want to be with my husband."
He allowed a smile to touch his lips. "Yes, Mrs. Shelby."
"You'll make a good father. Remember that." she said. She patted his hand, and then focused on her husband. "Oh, Robert, dearest. My head hurts."
He squeezed her hand, kissing it. "I'll get Dr. Cleese."
"No, no. Just keep kissing me."
She did not notice Mr. Mosby as he left the room.
"Now, honey, Dr. Cleese said you have to stay awake."
"I don't want to," Maria protested.
"You have a concussion."
"Oh, it's nothing. I've been hit on the head before."
"He released you to me on the condition that I would keep you up. You don't want me to take you back to Dr. Cleese's office, do you?"
"No," Maria pouted. It was not fair that she had to stay awake for the whole night.
"Stand up with me."
"What about Austin?" Maria suddenly suggested. "Someone needs to go check on him." If she could get her husband away, then she could fall asleep.
"He's fine. Josiah checked in on him in the jail. Now stand up."
"But he's in jail unjustly. Someone needs to get him out."
"Well, it's not going to be me. Stand up, Maria."
She hesitantly allowed him to help her up. "I'm tired, Robert."
"You need to remain awake. The doctor said so."
"What about Austin?"
"He doesn't need to stay awake."
"No, silly. It's not fair that he's in jail."
"Life's not fair, Maria," Robert said. "If it was, I'd be keeping my wife awake the usual way, instead of this. But I suppose your head hurts."
She could not help that. "It does."
Robert nodded. "Well then, we'll walk."
She allowed him to lead her about their room.
"Robert, why did you marry me?"
He pulled her into an embrace, his hands molded to her seat. "For your child-bearing hips, honey."
"Oh!" she said, hitting him. "I think you should go away after such a remark." She did want to sleep.
He did not release her. "Never do that again."
"What? Hit you? Someone needs to take a stick to you."
"No, worry me," he said. He kissed her.
"I want your babies, Robert."
He smiled. "I want to give them to you -- the sooner the better. Now, let's get you over that headache."
July 2004