July 1882
Living above the undertakers was not so bad, so long as she ran up the backstairs with her utmost speed and did not look through any of the windows. Maria was grateful to Mr. Harry for his fine selection of incense. It covered up most of the smell.
The new curtains were hung, the walls were washed and newly papered, and the furniture rearranged. She and Robert even had their own his and her towels beside the wash basin.
But still, they were living above the undertakers. And it was in the heat of July.
Independence Day had come and gone. Maria celebrated it by decorated the windows in red and white, while omitting Yankee blue in deference to her husband. She sang "Dixie" with her husband, and a few "Huzzahs" for the holiday itself. It was the first holiday she had spent as a wife, and overall, the holiday went well.
The stove in the apartment worked fine once she figured out the burner in the back. Until then, her poor Robert had to eat charred food. He said that it reminded him of his uncle's cooking. He was relieved when she served him a steak a little on the rare side for the first time.
She was wondering what to cook for him that night for dinner -- that is, if he would be home that night. He and Mr. Mosby were still searching for Mr. Mosby's baby. Miss Florie and Miss Selena had taken him away over a month ago.
Maria hoped that they would find the baby soon. Mr. Mosby was looking haggard and withdrawn. She had wanted to invite him to supper in their new home, but it never seemed to be the appropriate time. He needed to find his child.
Robert spent many nights away helping his friend. Maria stayed with her uncle during that time. She did not want to spend the night alone with dead people.
She frowned, knowing it was late. Her Robert probably would not be home again.
She heard a knock on her door. She hoped that it was Robert, but she knew that he would have used a key.
She looked out the window. Her uncle was standing there, hat in hand.
She ushered him inside the apartment. "Uncle Josiah! I'm so glad you are here. Have you seen my new curtains? They blend perfectly with the wallpaper you helped me put up."
He surveyed them politely. "They look good. Your aunt Sarah had some like that when we lived in Boston."
"They are very pretty. I want to show them to Newton, but he hasn't come by yet. I'm afraid he'll never come to visit at this rate."
"Give him time. He'll come."
Maria smiled at her uncle, who still stood in the doorway.
"Oh! Where are my manners?" she declared. "Let me take your hat. Please sit down."
Josiah shook his head. "I don't intend to stay long. I was just hoping that you could tell me where Austin is."
Maria frowned. "I don't know. I haven't seen him. Isn't he in tent town?''
"No, and he hasn't been to the house in days."
"He hasn't been here. Do you think he is all right? Austin's been acting very strange since Mr. Mosby let him out of jail."
Josiah snorted in disgust. "Mosby had no right to keep him there. He didn't know anything about that baby."
"Do you think he is all right?"
Josiah nodded, giving her a brief smile. "He probably went to Missoula."
He stood in the parlor, toying with his hat. His eyes kept returning to the stove. He cleared his throat. "Are you coming home tonight?"
It was getting a little late, Maria thought to herself. Robert knew that if he did not come home by a certain time . . . .
"May I stay wth you again tonight? It appears that Robert won't be home again."
Josiah rocked on his heels. "That would be fine." Then he looked disconcerted. His eyes centered on the stove.
When Maria caught his gaze, he smiled hopefully at her.
"Uncle Josiah? Have you eaten dinner?"
"I had some beans."
"My goodness! What are you feeding yourself? I believe that men only know how to fix themselves one thing. We need to get you some nourishment. Do you want me to fix dinner here or there?"
"Here is fine."
"Good, and we'll go to your house afterward."
"I have a volume of Poe that I've been saving."
Maria frowned. "Please. Living above the undertaker's is hard enough without reading about Miss Usher."
"Oh, I forgot. I have some Dickens: 'It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.'"
Maria nodded. That did seem to best describe her situation.
She only wished Robert could have made it home.
He knocked on the back door early the following morning.
"Robert!" Maria exclaimed as she rushed into his arms.
Josiah cleared his throat after the newlyweds had spent a few moments kissing. "You can stay for breakfast, Robert," he said, holding the door open.
"Josiah," he nodded.
"I was about to make some eggs, dearest. I can make some poached, just how you like them," Maria said.
Robert squeezed her hand. "That would be fine."
As the men sat at the kitchen table, Josiah asked, "Any news about the baby?"
"Not much. Clay has followed about every lead that he can."
"Is that what you were doing last night when you didn't come home to my niece?"
"Uncle Josiah," Maria reprimanded.
He shrugged, looking across at the younger man.
"We were trying to find out about the child, yes."
"What's Mosby going to do when he doesn't find him? He can't go around punishing someone else's child just because he can't find his."
Maria glanced back to see her husband frown. Robert was there when Mr. Mosby beat Austin up in front of the entire town.
"One of Mosby's men punched your wife. I can't imagine why that wouldn't be a concern to you."
Robert placed down his fork rather roughly as Maria stepped between them.
"Milk, Uncle Josiah?"
"No, thank you. I want to hear what your husband has to say."
"But I'm fine, Uncle Josiah," Maria said as Robert began to speak. "Robert, milk?"
He shook his head at her and then addressed Josiah. "That wasn't --"
"Do you want another muffin, Uncle Josiah?"
"Maria," Josiah said. "Sit down and keep quiet."
"Don't use that tone of voice with my wife."
"You obviously have no control over her."
Robert threw his napkin on the table. "Now see here --"
"All of this is really unnecessary," Maria tried to soothe both of them.
"See," Josiah pointed out. "There she goes again."
"I don't wish to control her," Robert said with clenched teeth.
"If you had a little stronger hand, then Maria wouldn't have been hurt."
"I don't wish to control her, sir," Robert repeated. "She's my wife, not my horse."
"Maria can get hurt so easily," Josiah said. "She's been shot and stabbed and --"
"I resent what you are implying, sir. I'd give my life to protect her."
Josiah swallowed hard. "I would have done the same for Hannah. If I had been a little stronger, then my daughter might still be alive."
Maria sighed as Robert cleared his throat.
"When I was seven, my daddy hit my mama so hard she died," Robert said quietly. "Then he went out into the woods and killed himself. I had to live my uncle who beat me every day. There's such a thing as too strong a hand."
Maria nearly dropped the milk pitcher. She wanted to rush to her husband's side. She wished that her uncle was not there.
Josiah was speechless.
Robert stood up from the table. "We'll be going now. Come on, Maria."
She did not know what to do.
"But the dishes --"
"Let Josiah clean up his own mess."
She placed down the pitcher, sighed, then followed her husband.
"Robert, why didn't you tell me about your parents?"
She could hardly keep up with him.
"It was a long time ago," he replied tersely. He bounded up the stairs. She followed him, shutting the door behind them.
"What about your uncle?" she asked.
"What about him?"
"Don't you want to talk about it?"
"No."
She came up behind him, attempting to embrace him. He shrugged her away.
"Clay will be expecting me," he said. He started towards the door.
"Robert . . ."
"I have to go."
"Robert, I --"
He slammed the door.
"-- love you."
Maria frowned, looking after him.
"Oh, will you? Thank you, thank you, Miss Maria. Blackie and Rufus won't be so pernickety with you looking after them."
Maria nodded. She did not mind looking after Unbob's chickens, but the dead bodies were another matter entirely.
"Are you sure Mr. Wilson won't mind supervising the undertaker's, Unbob?"
"He said he would, but he ain't too good with chickens, though.
"Oh, Miss Maria! I can't wait to see my brother Bob. It's been a long time since I seen him. Do you think he'll know me?"
"Of course he will. You're his brother," Maria replied, smiling. Then she thought about her own family squabble. "Families are so important. More important than you'll ever know."
Unbob nodded eagerly at her, and rushed off to board the stage.
Maria looked down at the chickens. They did not look like they would be too much trouble.
Her husband, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.
Maria spotted Robert and Mr. Mosby at the Dove. They were eating supper.
Maria clenched her fists, but she refrained from stomping her foot.
She walked up to them as calmly as she could.
"Robert, dearest," she said tersely. "Do you realize what time it is?"
He did not reply for a of moment. "It's supper time."
So he did know what time it was, she thought. He obviously did not want to come home to her.
"I had dinner prepared for you. I've been waiting for over an hour."
His face hardened, yet he did not look at her. "We have business."
Mr. Mosby cleared his throat. "Robert, perhaps this could wait --"
Robert gave him an icy glare.
"I see," Maria said, nodding. "Will I expect you home after dinner?"
"Maybe."
She wanted to scream at him, but she did not.
"I love you, Robert."
He nodded at her as she stalked out of the hotel.
Her husband could be quite a bother.
Every sound frightened her, and it was barely dark.
She relaxed when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.
He opened the door. He seemed surprised that she was there.
"I thought that you'd be at Josiah's."
"I'm not. I'm waiting for you."
He nodded at her. He began to remove his clothing as he walked into the bedroom.
Maria frowned at him. "I don't like it when we fight."
He sat on the edge of the bed. He did not say anything to her.
"I love you, Robert."
His silence unnerved her. She sat next to him. Her finger traced from his hand to his wrist. He did not look at her, but he did not pull away.
She clasped his hands and kneeled before him. She kissed the insides of his wrists, drawing herself up toward his body. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and her head rested on his belly.
He grunted, and then he lifted her to him. His kiss seemed to devour her for a moment, and then he rolled on top of her.
Afterwards, his head rested on her shoulder. She caressed his chest as her chin nuzzled the crown of his head.
"I'm sorry that my uncle upset you. He's just a little over protective."
"He should be. He loves you."
Maria kissed the crown of his head. "Thank you for saying that. Oh, Robert. Don't pay him too much mind. Uncle Josiah is who he is."
He did not reply, but he allowed her to caress him.
Her legs hugged him closer.
"Robert, I don't know what I would do if you should leave me. When I think . . . it's like something tightening around my heart. I can't breathe. Oh, please, don't ever make me suffer like that."
He clasped her hand and clutched it to his heart. His breath caught, as if trying to suppress some deep emotion.
"I fear that, too," he managed to say.
She squeezed him with all her might. He grunted in contentment as her fingers fondled his chest and her toes stroked along his calves.
"Robert. You can tell me anything. You know that."
He was silent for a moment. "There are some things you don't need to hear."
"I need to hear about what is bothering you. How can I help you if I don't know what's wrong?"
He kissed her fingers. "It's nothing, honey. It all happened a long time ago."
She frowned in disbelief. She sighed, squeezing him to her again. "I would like to meet your uncle so I can give him a piece of my mind. No one hurts my Robert without having to deal with me first."
She heard a wry laugh escape his lips. "I'd never want you to meet that bastard. Besides, you don't have to. A Yankee shell killed him at Fredericksburg. Best shot ever fired in that War, I say."
Maria frowned. She nuzzled the crown of his head, kissing him. "Do you remember your mother? Was she very pretty?"
He cleared his throat. "Yes. Mama was beautiful."
Maria sighed, remembering her own mother. "Mine was, too."
"I hated my father for a long time after that," Robert said after a moment.
Maria nodded, hugging him close.
"That won't happen here, I swear it," he said. "No harm will ever come to you or the children --"
"Of course not."
"I have a temper, Maria. But I swear, I will never raise my fists to you. I'd rather die first."
"I know that. But you don't need to worry. You'd never do anything like that," she soothed.
"There is no honor in it."
Maria nodded at him. She squeezed him again. "Do you have any idea of how proud I am of you? Most men would have continued on in that same path."
"I might have if it hadn't been for Clay's father. I was so wild when I was a boy. Everything I know about being a man I learned from Lawrence Mosby."
"Then I would like to thank him someday."
He shook his head sadly. "He's dead, too. He was killed when . . . ." He seemed overcome with emotion. "He was killed. Many lives were destroyed that day."
Maria sighed, caressing him. "You and Mr. Mosby must have been so devastated. I'm glad that you had each other to see it through."
"Clay's the only true family I ever had."
Maria patted him. "Then I will have to thank Mr. Mosby."
Robert positioned himself to face her. "I have you now. I want children, Maria. I want the family I never had."
He looked so earnestly at her that she could not stop herself from smiling. Her hand darted to his chest.
She began to giggle as her finger traced a path further and further down his body. She blushed brightly when her fingers slowly wandered beneath the bedcovers.
"Mmm, Robert," she moaned happily as she shifted herself on top of him.
He grinned at her. "Let's get started."
She grinned like an idiot whenever she thought of him. They did not get much sleep, and he certainly seemed more relaxed when he got up that morning. He promised her that he would be home for lunch. He told her with a naughty gleam in his eye that he would be hungry.
She grinned again. She knew what he would be hungry for.
She giggled, licking her lips. Perhaps she wanted a taste or two herself.
She blushed. It was mid-morning. Perhaps she really ought not to be thinking of that. She had chores that she had to do, people she had to see. She considered scolding her husband. He really ought not to distract her so.
She grinned thinking of him again.
She shook her head. She had to feed Unbob's chickens. She really ought not to let her brain get so addlepated.
She scattered the feed, and it took a moment for Blackie and Rufus to peck at the ground. They already seemed to sense the absence of Unbob. Unbob told her that they would get most lonesome for him at nightfall. That was when he always talked to them. Maria promised him that she would check on the chickens before she went to bed.
She scattered a little more feed. She was startled when two hands rested on her waist.
"I didn't mean to scare you, honey," he said, pulling her towards him. He kissed her. His hands began to wander when Maria pulled away.
"Not if front of the chickens, Robert."
"They don't care. Who knows? They might get inspired and lay more eggs. I'm sure Unbob won't mind. Now come on over here."
She smiled provocatively at him, blushing. "I'll go with you upstairs. You can do anything you want."
His eyes burned with fire. "Damn, if that isn't tempting."
She held out her hand.
He pulled her roughly toward him instead. He kissed her thoroughly, ending his passions by gently tugging on her lower lip with his teeth.
He made her breathless.
"I can't make it for lunch, honey," he said, his voice husky. "But by damn if I don't want you now --"
"Yes," she said, nodding toward the stairs.
"I have to go. We heard something about the baby. But I promise you that I'll be home tonight. I'll need to be home tonight. I don't think I can endure it if I don't."
"But what about now?"
He groaned in misery. "No, I won't be able to leave."
"Just for a few minutes," Maria suggested. "That's all."
"Oh, honey," he said, his voice ragged. She pulled him towards her. She kissed him most passionately as her hands began to wander.
"Not if front of the chickens, honey," he reminded her.
He pulled away reluctantly. "Think of us tonight. I certainly will."
She blew him a kiss, and then she frowned. He should not have made her desire him so.
She tried to keep her mind on other thoughts all day, but Maria could not help but think of her husband and smile. She supposed that she was really besotted with him.
She was humming and smiling to herself when she sat down on her blood brother's bench. He appeared to be asleep, but Maria knew that this was not the case.
"Oh, Newton," she sang out.
He did not reply underneath his hat.
She poked him. "Newton," she sang out again.
"Git," he said, not bothering to reposition his hat.
"Don't be silly. I want to talk to you. It's been ever so long since we've had a nice visit."
"You jawed at me yesterday."
"Was that just yesterday? It seems like ages. What did I say?"
"Nothing."
"Silly, I must have said something."
"Nope."
Maria frowned. "Well, that would be unlike me."
Her blood brother removed his hat and gave her a wry look.
"Be it as it may," Maria said, shrugging, "I just wanted to let you know how lovely my curtains are. I wish that you would come see them. They match the wallpaper just so, and everything looks so nice. I'm sure that you would enjoy it. Won't you please reconsider and come to dinner some time?"
He snorted and replaced his hat.
"Newton, I wish you would not behave so. I think that the apartment is lovely. It looks quite different than it did before." Then Maria frowned. "I hope Miss Shaw will not disapprove."
She saw his body tense. "Won't matter. She ain't ever come back here anyways."
Maria patted his elbow, which he promptly removed from her touch.
"Silly, Newton," she said. Then she sighed, "Oh, how I long for the day to pass! Sometimes a few hours seems like an eternity."
"Jawing with you always is."
"Newton!" she reprimanded. "Your surly disposition is rather unbecoming. But, as you know, I love you, and I will not be put off by such behavior. Now I really feel like I've been neglecting you. What have done without me as your companion? You must be so sad. I will have to make a point to visit more often."
He began to squirm. "Don't you got some sort of married thing to do?"
Maria blushed. She did need to get her red nightgown prepared for the night's activities. She cleared her throat. "Well, yes. Oh, Newton!" she sighed rhapsodically. "I love Robert! He is so wonderful to me! And he is so handsome! I want to be with him all the time. There are not enough hours in the day."
"Then git and go find him, and leave me be."
"But Newton, I feel awful for neglecting you. Won't you please come to dinner sometime? I worry about you so. You don't have anyone to take care of you. Besides you and my Robert need to become better acquainted."
He looked at her pointedly. "Does he shut you up?"
Maria frowned at him. Then she blushed. Robert and she did not talk much while they were kissing, and he did kiss her quite a bit. She began to wonder if that was, indeed, Robert's purpose -- "to shut her up." It was quite a disconcerting thought.
"He values me, Newton. Why, he told Uncle Josiah that I was not a horse."
A smirk crossed his face. "Never thought that you were. You might be a nag, come to think on it."
Maria hit him. "That was very rude. I am not a nag, at least, I don't think I am."
"Ain't no never mind to me," he said, shrugging.
She frowned. "I really don't want to be a nag. Truly I don't. I did get mad at Robert for not coming home in time for dinner. I especially prepared it for him, you see. I wanted him to know how much I loved him. I think he does know now, though. Newton, I think he really does love me. I have to be careful that I should deserve his love."
"Better he should deserve yours."
Maria smiled at him. "Newton, that was a sweet thing to say, but you really shouldn't worry. He treats me very well."
"He let one of Mosby's men hit you."
Maria took offense at that. "He didn't know I was there! Besides, he beat Mr. Thompson to a bloody pulp. Robert doesn't want to see me hurt."
The bounty hunter shrugged. "He let Mosby beat up Austin."
Maria sighed. She was unsure of how to respond to that. "Robert was very unhappy with Mr. Mosby for doing that. He argued with him about it."
"How do you know? Did your husband tell you that?"
Maria blushed. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Newton, but I was knocked unconscious, you see. It's happened to you plenty of times. I'm sure that you understand."
He grimaced.
"Yes, I know how painful it is to be hit on the head. I'm ever so grateful that Robert stayed up with me all night. He showed me the same devotion as you showed me the last time I had a concussion."
He smirked. "That was when Shelby shot you."
Maria frowned. "I don't remember that." And she did not. She still could not remember the events that led up to her accidental shooting about a year ago.
"When I saw Austin carry you in . . . " She saw the glimmer of emotion in his eyes before he looked away.
Maria sighed, patting him on the knee. "Oh, Newton. I'm all right. I'm just glad that you are all right. You have frightened me many times. You really shouldn't worry me so. Oh, won't you come to dinner? I'd feel better if I knew that you had nourishment."
"You are a nag."
She laughed. "Only with you, Newton."
"Go on now. Git."
"What about dinner?"
"Ain't hungry."
"When will you be coming?"
"No, Maria."
"But my curtains, Newton."
"Hang the curtains."
She laughed. "That's quite amusing, Newton. Now you must see them."
"Seen curtains before."
"But it is my home, Newton. I want you to feel like you are part of it."
"Ain't part of any home." He stood up abruptly and stalked off.
Maria shook her head. The man was close to impossible.
She considered going after him. He still was hobbling a bit from his broken leg, so he would not be too hard to catch. But, it was getting late. Maria had to tend Unbob's chickens.
She wondered why men had to be so difficult.
"Get away! Shoo!" Maria shouted at the bit of black scuttling around the corner. Mr. Weaver's cat Leroy was the meanest and most hated cat in Curtis Wells. That cat would fight with anything on legs. Maria feared that the chickens might be too traumatized by his presence to lay eggs, and poor Unbob would be broken-hearted. He did set such great store by his chickens.
"It's all right," Maria cooed to the chickens as she grabbed a handy broom. "He won't hurt you."
She went around the corner. That cat had disappeared underneath the corner of the chicken house.
"Leroy!" she scolded. "You get out of there this instant!"
The cat did not respond.
"Leroy, I'm going to use this broom. Now git!"
Maria did not see any movement from the cat.
Mumbling to herself, Maria got on her knees with the broom. She began to use the broom to force the cat out. When she saw what was underneath the chicken coop, she recoiled in horror. But it was too late.
She screamed.
Maria sobbed. Why had fate been so cruel to her? Why couldn't she have just been shot again? It would have been less painful. And less malodorous.
She could never recall smelling quite this bad.
How do you remove the smell of a skunk?
Maria sobbed again. It was not fair.
Tears only made the smell worse. Soap and water made it worse.
She tried tomato juice. She tried baking soda. She tried vinegar. Nothing seemed to help.
She stunk.
What was worse was that she was sure that she made their apartment stink. She smelled worse than what was downstairs, if that was possible. How could she stay in the apartment? She was not fit for humanity.
She dreaded seeing Robert. What would he think? He would be repulsed by her. He would come home expecting her loving arms, but instead, he would find a malodorous wretch.
She considered sobbing again, but she felt that she had to hide. She had to leave town. The town had be upwind of her. It was the only solution.
She sobbed as she packed some clothing. She was afraid to sleep outside, but nothing should harm her because she stunk so badly.
She had to burn some incense. She could not leave Robert with a smelly apartment.
She sobbed as she lit the match. Why had fate dealt her such an unkind hand?
"What the --" she heard Robert exclaim as he walked through the door. "Honey, there's a skunk around here."
Maria nodded her head, her lip quivering.
"Good Lord, it smells like it's right in the room with us."
Maria nodded her head. "I . . . I . . ." she began, unable to contain the depths of her despair.
"Honey," he said, coming towards her. "What is it?" He stopped in mid-stride, noticing her packed clothing. "What the hell is going on around here?" he demanded.
"I have to leave you, Robert," she wailed. "It's really the best way. If only it could be different, but it can't! I want to die!"
She sobbed into her handkerchief, but it smelled like skunk.
His eyes narrowed at her. "What are you talking about? You're not leaving me, do you hear? And what is that smell?"
He stepped towards her, but she held up her hand. "No, Robert, no! No closer! Please, it would break my heart if you should have to suffer my dismal fate. You mustn't touch me."
His eyes narrowed in exasperation. "What the hell are you talking about? And why aren't you trying to get that skunk out of here?"
She sank to her knees. "I am the skunk!" she cried in piteous tones.
He shook his head, not comprehending.
"I . . . I was sprayed. I thought it was Mr. Weaver's cat, honest. I didn't even smell anything until it was too late. Oh, Robert! I'm so sorry. You have a fool for a wife. I'll be the laughing stock of town, if I'm not already. I'm so sorry, honest I am. There's only one thing I can do for you and all of us. I must leave. I can't stink up the entire town."
Robert frowned. "Maria, calm yourself. You're hysterical."
"Of course I'm hysterical! I've just been sprayed by a skunk!"
Robert cursed under his breath, and then he addressed her. "Did you try to wash it off?"
Maria thought that he was very silly for asking. "Of course I've tried. I've tried soap and water and --"
"Tomato juice?"
"Yes, and vinegar, and baking soda. I've tried everything I can think of. Oh, Robert! This is the greatest tragedy!"
He did not say anything for a moment. Then he began to chuckle.
It caused her much ire. "Stop that! Stop this instant! It's not funny!"
He tried to suppress his laughter. "I'm sorry, honey, but there's nothing else to do."
She clenched her jaw, and then she stood up and revealed her torso beneath her blouse. It was red and raw from everything that she had tried. He stopped laughing immediately. "Oh, honey --"
She snorted, looking away from him. She grabbed her packing and attempted to leave.
He stood in front of her, hands reaching out. She stepped back so that he would not touch her.
"We better get you to the doctor, honey," he said.
"What's Dr. Cleese going to say?" Maria demanded. "That I should bathe in cologne?"
"I don't know, honey. Perhaps he has something that you haven't tried. He might have something for your skin."
"I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anybody! In a matter of seconds, I've been made a social outcast! What are people going to say? 'Look -- there's goes Maria Shelby, the most foul smelling person in town!' You shouldn't have married me, Robert. I've brought you down in my disgrace."
"It wasn't your fault --"
"People will say that I should have smelled the thing a mile away. I didn't! I didn't know! I thought it was that stupid Leroy! If I get a hold of that cat . . . ."
"You know you're not going to do anything to that cat. Now calm down."
"I must leave. I'll stay on the outskirts of town until I smell better."
"Now that's just nonsense. You're staying here with me."
"I can't stay here with you. Look -- your eyes are tearing up from the smell. You can't stand me anymore than I can."
"It's emotion, honey," he lied.
"I appreciate that, Robert, but you can't risk smelling like I do. I have to leave you and this apartment."
"And where are you going to stay? You can't stay outside. I forbid it."
"I don't see that I have much choice."
"You don't have a choice. You're staying here with me."
"I'll stink up this apartment. No one can live in it after this."
"Don't worry about that now. We'll be here for some time. Listen, honey. I know it's bad, but animals get sprayed all the time. Eventually the smell wears off. Just be patient."
"But I don't want you to be affected --"
"Honey, I married you. For better, for worse -- that's what we said. This is the worst so far."
Maria wanted to throw herself on him, but she refrained from doing so with great difficulty. "Robert, I can't touch you. You can't touch me. We must live as strangers in the same apartment. I don't know if that is something I can withstand. I long for you so."
"It won't be that bad, honey. Things will be better in a few days, you'll see. We'll just have to open a window. Or two. Or three. Or four."
"We only have three windows, Robert."
"We'll have to open a door."
"Do I really smell that bad?"
Robert wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "No"
"But it isn't fair that you should smell the same as me."
"Honey, we're in this together. If you stink, I stink. You and I will stink up the whole damn town."
Tears welled in her eyes. Maria had never heard anything so romantic.
"But we musn't touch," she said. "We'll have to live apart as tragic lovers, like Lucie Manette and Charles Darnay. Of course, you are not imprisoned to be guillotined, and I don't have locks of curly blond hair, but you see the idea."
"'Tis a far, far better thing than I do, than I have ever done,'" Robert quoted, grinning.
"You are most noble, Robert."
"Not that noble. I intend to get my hands on you sometime."
"Oh really, Robert? You still want me after all of this?"
"Of course. And more." He regarded her, took a deep breath, coughed, and frowned. "Just not tonight."
In the following week, Maria smelled no better than she had before. She did not venture out of their apartment, and the only people that visited her were her uncle and cousin. Her uncle would console her with Uncle Jedidiah stories. Austin smirked at her a great deal, but his smug expression evaporated when she threatened to hug him.
Maria only went outside to tend to the chickens, and afterward she would run directly back to the apartment. She would be confronted with the smell each time she opened the door. She and Robert had burned so many coffee grounds that Mr. Creel had to send in for a new supply.
Robert was still sympathetic, although he seemed very strained any time that he was near her. He told her that he wanted her, but Maria could not understand why. She was positively repulsive. She could not allow him to touch her while she was like this.
She was saving him, really. Mr. Mosby had told Robert that he could barely smell the skunk on him. Maria knew that if she allowed Robert to touch her, then that would not be the case.
They slept separately. Maria slept in the bed, while Robert slept on the floor. Maria was unhappy with that arrangement, knowing that it should have been the opposite. But Robert threatened her that he would throw her physically on the bed the minute her knees should happen to touch the floor. He also told her that he had slept on hard ground for years. It would not bother him. Still, Maria was not happy with that arrangement.
What was worse was she would lie awake at night longing for him when he was but a few feet away. Her body would ache when she remembered the pleasures that her husband had given her. Many times she had to refrain from throwing herself on the floor and making the most passionate love to her husband on the spot.
But she could not. She had to be strong and endure the torment.
Although Robert told her that he wanted her, she did not believe it. He spent much of the day supervising Mr. Mosby's men and helping Mr. Mosby with the search. He came home just before nightfall, and even then, he seemed to be avoiding her. Maria sighed. It was just as well. When he was not with her, her torment eased. But Maria was so lonely. She wished for the day when she could rejoin the living.
She looked longingly outside, although there was nothing to see. Her windows faced the alley.
Wiping a tear, Maria sighed and returned to reading her book. Sidney Carton's head had just been chopped off. She mourned his loss and imagined a world where he and the girl he had died with could live a happy life. She sniffed, closing the cover. She did not know which book she should read next. She had read several of the books in the apartment since her accident.
She was about to choose a novel of Robert Louis Stevenson when she heard a knock on the door. She sighed. It was probably Uncle Josiah. He was probably going to tell her another tale of Uncle Jedidiah Peale.
Maria looked out the window. Her eyes widened.
"Newton!" she gasped in shock. She did not know what to do. She had wanted him to visit her in her apartment for ever so long, but now he was visiting when the apartment was in a stink.
Should she let him in? She supposed she had to. She could hardly avoid him when he was gazing directly at her with his hat in hand.
Maria opened the door. "Oh, Newton!" she said, ushering him in. "I'm so sorry that I had to receive you in a state like this. Please come in. Have you seen my curtains?"
His eyes narrowed at the fabric. He pointed away with his hat. "Not here to see them."
Maria was so happy that she could cry. He could only have meant her, but then again, he might have business with Robert. "Oh, tell me that you've come to see me! I've been ever so lonely. It was so nice of you to come for a visit --"
"Ain't here for that, either. Can't you let a man get a word in edgewise?"
"Well, of course, Newton. You're not here to see Robert, are you?"
"I'll tell you what I'm here for if you let me talk."
"Oh, Newton. We'll have a good visit. Won't you please sit down? May I take your hat?"
She reached for his hat, but he batted her hands away. He looked off aloofly.
Maria frowned at him.
"Got wind of your troubles," he said, a wry smile on his lips.
Maria sat down with her head in her hands. "Oh, Newton! My life is in such despair! To think that you could joke like that, imagine what everyone else is saying! I smell so awful! Whatever am I going to do?"
He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a pouch. He threw it at her.
As she caught it, the pouch opened and spilled all over the front of her. She began to cough.
"Soot?" she questioned.
"Got it from Red Crow. Said it would help you."
Tears welled in her eyes. "You went all the way out there to help me with my troubles? Oh, Newton! You do care!"
He looked off aloofly.
"Am I supposed to apply it on like talcum powder?"
"That's what he said."
"Newton, you must thank Mr. Crow for me. I'll try anything at this point. Now is this special soot, or can I use the ash from the stove?"
"Hell, I don't know. Looks like plain old ash to me."
"I'll use it right away."
He nodded.
"Newton, I want to hug you, but I won't."
"Good."
"Now that you're here, you simply must see my curtains. See how they bring out the green in the wallpaper. Green is Robert's favorite color, you know."
He surveyed the room. "Real nice. Gotta go."
"Oh, I knew that you would love it. But if you must go, you must. You must thank Mr. Crow for his remedy. I need to put it on right away."
"Well, do it, and let me go."
Before he left the room, she tugged at his sleeve.
He regarded her.
"Thank you, Newton," she said with all the gratitude in her heart.
He gave her a small nod and left.
She should have received more specific instructions from her blood brother before she let him go. She had the ashes on for over an hour, and she was not sure if they were working. She supposed an hour had been long enough.
She sat in front of her wash basin. With sad resignation, she began to wash off the ashes.
She regarded herself in the mirror. Her whole body was dripping with grime.
Maria grabbed for a towel when she heard the key in the lock. Robert never came home in the afternoon anymore. What could he possibly want?
She backed into the dressing table, realizing what a horrible mess she was. Now she was dirtying their good towel.
She knew that it was not fair. He was always there to witness her humiliations.
"Honey, have you seen my --" he said as he walked into their bedroom.
Maria backed away, this time bumping into the wash basin, causing black water to slosh onto the floor.
His eyes gazed at her curiously.
She might as well have been rolling around in the mud, she thought. She would not have looked any worse. She blushed furiously.
"Newton heard from Mr. Crow that soot might help with the smell," she explained. "I guess it didn't. Now I look like one of those dark creatures that Poe is always referring to."
She could not believe her luck. Why did she always have to play the fool in front of him? It was like a continuous, horrible dream. "Please don't laugh, Robert."
She clutched the towel and tried to stand up as proudly as she could.
"Do you hear me laughing?" he said, his voice unmistakably rough.
She suddenly became aware that the water was trickling down her bare legs. She looked down to see that the water was tracing a wandering path from her shoulders down to her fronts. She was wet all over, and there was nothing between her and Robert but that towel.
He was aware of it, too.
His feral eyes devoured every inch of her as a low growl escaped his lips. She knew that he could overtake her in seconds, but she did not move. Her pulse raced and her body ached as she stood and let him watch. He licked his lips and stepped forward.
"Mr. Shelby?" she heard someone call from the next room. It sounded like Mr. Zeke. "You found what you need?"
Maria backed away quickly against the wall. She did not know that they had company. She looked to Robert, not knowing what to do.
His eyes narrowed at her, and then he looked away.
"Yes," he growled, grabbing something on the dresser. He threw a blanket at her as he stalked out of the room.
He slammed the door on his way out.
He did not come home for dinner, but she had company, nonetheless.
"I'm sorry, Miss Maria," Unbob said, clearly upset. "I should have told you that there's a family of polecats around there. They sure like the chickenhouse. Most times they just leave you alone. I didn't mean for them to spray you, honest I didn't. I should have warned you, Miss Maria."
"It's not your fault, Unbob," Maria said. She still blamed the cat.
"I was just so excited to visit my brother that I plum forgot. He's got a real nice family, too. He's got a son about the same age as my boy. Gives him a mess of trouble sometimes. Guess my brother Bob and me are a lot alike."
"I didn't know you had a son, Unbob," Maria said as she offered him another helping of greens.
Unbob looked to his plate, sadness marring his features. "Haven't seen Toby in a long time." He looked up hopefully. "I wrote him a letter, though. Do you think Sheriff Peale, er, Austin will help me find him? He helped me find my brother when I lost him last time."
Maria smiled at him. "I'm sure Austin would be glad to do that." In fact, Maria thought that was an excellent idea. Austin had been acting a little strange recently. He needed the diversion.
Unbob stood up from the table rather abruptly. "Gotta go. Blackie and Rufus will be expecting me. Thanks for the fixings, Miss Maria, and for taking care of my chickens. Do you think Austin will start looking if I give him the letter right now?"
Maria smiled at him. "Of course he would."
Unbob beamed at her. Before her left he said, "Oh, Miss Maria. You don't smell that bad. Honest you don't."
Maria thanked him as she shut the door.
She sighed when the apartment was empty once more. She wondered where Robert was and what he was doing.
She washed the dishes, hoping that she would hear the key in the lock. She heard nothing but her own sighs.
"Robert," she said, as if the sound of his name would conjure him out of the air. Of course, it did not work.
The way he had left earlier that afternoon worried her. She understood his frustration, but it could not be helped. Yet, she felt that she was losing him. It frightened her like nothing else.
Gritting her teeth in determination, Maria sat down at her writing table. Unbob had the right idea. A letter ought to do the trick.
She placed the letter on the floor next to his blanket. He would see it the moment he laid down.
It was the calm of eventide. The town had settled down, and only the night creatures made a sound. It was the worst time to be alone in the apartment, Maria thought. The things downstairs at the undertakers had a way of coming alive at night. They did it only at night and only when she was alone.
She gripped the blanket over her head. It was just the apartment settling, she told herself for the thousandth time. There was nothing to be afraid of.
She began to have a deep resentment of her uncle Josiah. He was the one that turned her onto reading Edgar Allen Poe. All of this was his fault.
Of course, Robert could have sent her word that he was not coming home for the night. Where was he? What was he doing? Who was he with?
Maria threw the blanket off her in anger. She swore that she caught Robert staring at Camille, the new girl at Twyla's. He denied it, but now Maria knew for sure. She should have known -- with a name like Camille! Camille must have batted her eyes, given him a whiff of her sweet, undoubtedly French perfume, and lured Robert into infidelity. Maria seethed. That little French tart!
Then Maria hugged her pillow in despair. How could she stand a chance compared to the likes of the beautiful Camille? No doubt Camille's nature was as sweet as her smell. Robert would fall in love with her. He would be unlikely to forget her, especially when Camille would die of consumption in his loving arms. He would die sighing her name. Meanwhile, his wife would die alone and forgotten, smelling like a miserable wretch even as the pallor of death tainted her lips.
But how could he? He was her husband! He had no right to be dallying with that trollop! She did not care how wonderful Camille was. He was her husband! He swore an oath to her. He swore for better or for worse. That was what he said, and Maria meant to hold him to it. She had every right in the world to be angry with him. She loved him, damn it. He had no right to even look at another woman, let alone ravage her in his arms.
That little French tart. That little French tart. Even now Camille was beginning to know the joys that Robert had given his wife alone. It was not fair!
Robert had no right. He had no right. He was hers. He had no right to be giving it to someone else.
How could he? How could he?
Her body shook in quiet sobs as she clutched her pillow. She had lost him. She knew that she had lost him.
She crept out of her bed. Her love letter to him was now only an example of how extremely pathetic she was. He must not be allowed to see it. He would only stay with her out of pity or guilt, and she knew that she could not live with that. If he wanted to go, she could not keep him. She loved him. She had to set him free.
She knelt to the floor, clutching his blanket to her heart. She brought the material to her lips. She could smell him. She wrapped it around herself, lying on the floor where he had slept so many nights. This was the closest she would ever be to him again.
She gasped when she heard the key in the lock. Robert had come home at last. She was sure that she would be able to smell the French perfume even now.
She held her breath as she heard him enter their bedroom. He lit an oil lamp.
"Maria," he said gruffly, looking for her on the bed. His eyes narrowed when he saw her on the floor.
She could not smell perfume. She could only smell herself. She grabbed the letter and hid it behind her back.
"What the hell are you doing on the floor?" he asked, his voice rough. He put the lamp on the dresser, and he was next to her in two strides. "I thought I told you what would happen if I caught you there."
She remembered his threat. Her eyes widened, and her breath quickened. He grabbed her by the shoulders, picked her up, and tossed her on the bed. He was on top of her in less than a heartbeat. His kiss devoured her as she moaned out his name.
The love letter lay forgotten on the floor.
She hummed to herself as she rolled out the biscuits. The morning sky promised rain and cooler temperatures. It would be a relief to sit by the window and listen to the patter of rain.
Robert hugged her from behind and kissed her beneath her ear.
"Dearest," she admonished, a gentle flush coming to her cheeks, "I'm trying to make biscuits. They're Newton's secret recipe."
"Mmm," he said, patting her on her seat. He sat down at the kitchen table.
"You're awfully cute in your glasses," he commented after a moment.
She blushed furiously. "You were very useful in helping me find them this morning, if I recall."
He wore a naughty grin. "Glad to help."
She tried to hide her smile, but she was unsuccessful. Then she frowned. "Oh Robert, promise me that you'll never like French perfume."
He looked at her as if she was crazy. "All right, I promise you that I'll never like French perfume. I'd prefer to wear cologne, if you'd give me the choice."
"Not for you, silly," she said as she put the biscuits in the oven.
"You don't like French perfume?"
"Well, I do like French perfume."
"But you don't want me to buy it for you? I'm afraid I'm not following you, honey."
Her chin jutted up defiantly. "I'm sure Camille wears it."
His eyes narrowed quizzically at her. "Who?"
"That little tart at Tywla's. You know, the one you were staring at."
"Who in the hell are you talking about?"
"You know. The blond with the curls."
"Oh, her. Well, she was very pretty," he admitted, scratching his chin.
She frowned. She had wanted him to deny it, but it was just as she feared. He did like French perfume.
"I don't want you sniffing around her, Robert. I won't have it."
He grinned at her. "I'll never sniff another woman. I promise."
Maria frowned at him. "This is not a joking matter. You're mine, do you hear me? I'm not going to share you."
"Well, of course not. We're not in Utah."
She wondered if he was deliberately trying to upset her. "I'm trying to tell you something."
"You'd better hurry, because your water is boiling over."
Maria ran to the eggs. There was water all over them.
"I can't even poach your eggs right," Maria bemoaned. "You just watch. I'll burn the biscuits, too."
"Perhaps we ought to go back to bed and start the day over again. Seems like the only sensible thing to do."
She ignored the naughty gleam in his eye as she took the eggs off the stove. "Oh, Robert. Do you really like Camille? Do you really think she is pretty?"
"Maria, what has come over you?"
Maria bit her lip. "Nothing."
"Oh, really. You know what I think --"
"Because if you did, I could understand. She's beautiful and sophisticated. Undoubtedly she has a sweet disposition --"
"You've been reading one too many novels is what I think. You've let your mind run amok. I think what you need is some fresh air. You've been cooped up in here for too long."
"I can't go outside."
"Yes, you can."
"People will laugh."
"They might."
"All I am is a disgrace."
Robert sighed. "You're not. You're the victim here. It could have happened to anyone."
Maria frowned. "But it happened to me."
Robert grinned at her. "Yes, it did. You also had a bolt of fabric fall on your head and also found yourself shoeless when your boots were stuck in the mud. You sat on a dirty dictionary at Thanksgiving, and you were drunk at Christmas --"
Maria moaned. "Do you know what it is like to be constantly humiliated?"
"Things happen, honey. They just seem to happen to you."
Maria stomped her foot. "Well, it's not fair."
"No, it isn't fair. Life isn't fair."
"Oh, thank you, wise and noble one, for imparting this knowledge unto me. Tell me something else I don't know."
He laughed at her. "You are highly amusing. But I know you love me."
"I suppose so."
"Oh, I know," he said, revealing an envelope in his hand. He took out the letter and began to read, "'My dearest Robert --'"
"Robert!" she exclaimed. "Give that back!"
"Honey, the biscuits," he reminded her.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, running towards the smoking oven. "See," she said, coughing as she waved the smoke clear. "What did I tell you? I told you I would burn the biscuits."
"Yes, you did."
"I'm a failure as a wife."
He held her letter to his heart. "No, you're not." He stood up and held out his hand to her. "I'd be proud to take you to the Dove for breakfast. Don't break my heart, honey. Say 'yes.'"
He did have the most beguiling smile.
"I'll always say 'yes,' to you, Robert," she said shyly.
He grinned at her. "Good. We'll forget breakfast and go back to bed."
She blushed, and then she took his hand.
July 2004