Harlot at the Homestead by Molly Ann Wishlade

strange.” She wrung her hands. “One day he’s rational, practical and sensible then the next he’s like a stranger. He either thinks that we’re courting and still in our first flush of youth or he imagines that I’m his mother.” Her lower lip trembled. “And sometimes…he doesn’t recognize me at all!” She burst into fresh tears.
    Kenan glared at the woman but in spite of his anger, he pitied her. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant about William Montgomery but it didn’t sound nice. He’d suffered the pain of loss and grief, thinking Catherine was dead for so long. But this was clearly different. Edie Montgomery had her husband’s physical presence but not his mental one.
    She blew her nose loudly on a handkerchief she’d pulled from her bell sleeve then wiped her eyes. A strange calm seemed to fall over her and she raised her red and swollen eyes to Kenan’s face.
    “Mr Duggan.” She tilted her head to one side. “You said that you know about what happened.”
    “I do.” He ground his teeth together.
    “But how?”
    He noted that the fear he’d seen in her eyes just moments ago had been replaced by a calculating coldness and he wondered again at how far this woman had been involved in the events surrounding Catherine’s disappearance. His stomach churned and ice crept into his veins. Had she really loved Catherine as she’d claimed or had she been jealous of the young redhead and wanted her out of the way? Edie’s own beauty had faded, so maybe she didn’t like Catherine’s presence as a constant reminder of how her own youth had long since deserted her.
    He decided to keep Catherine’s return a secret for now.
    “A preacher who’d passed through New York had bumped into her,” he lied, watching for her reaction. “I told him all about my flame haired fiancée, kidnapped …” He emphasized the last word then paused. “Kidnapped by the Indians. He informed me about such a beauty who’d appeared suddenly in the city and told him one night of her plight.”
    “Oh.” The woman roamed his face with wild eyes. “I see.”
    “So”—he pulled his Stetson lower over his eyes—“you were telling me about William.”
    “Yes!” She fluttered her hand over her chest. “William!” She seemed to suddenly remember her husband. “He’s gone! He stopped the wagon about a mile down the road. He started…” Her cheeks filled with color which appeared black in the shadows of the night.
    “He started what, Ma’am?”
    “Kissing me.”
    “How’s that unusual? Ain’t a man allowed to kiss his wife now?”
    “Well, he…he doesn’t do that sort of thing anymore. Hasn’t for some time. Not since his mind started to wander.” She frowned then laid a hand on Kenan’s chest. “I was shocked and I jumped. He got mad and he…” She burst into fresh tears. “He jumped from the wagon and ran off!”
    “I see. And do you have any idea where he’s gone?”
    “I watched him for a while and called out to him but he soon disappeared. I’m worried, Mr Duggan! There’s wild animals out there and he didn’t have his pistol. I hid it when he started getting sick.”
    “So whadda you want me to do about his disappearance?” Kenan demanded. “After what happened to Catherine, why in the hell do you think I would help you out?”
    She moved her hand against his chest and he fought the urge to slap it away.
    “I understand your anger, Mr Duggan, I really do. But he’s all I have left. Please.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Please help me to find him.”
    Kenan sighed then took hold of her hand and put it from him.
    “Okay, I’ll help. But I ain’t making no promises. It’s pitch black out there and he could have gone in any direction. Hell! I hope that he ain’t gone off into the cattle pen.”
    He stared into the darkness as if trying to work out which direction William had taken but though the moon was full, the wind had picked up and it carried thick clouds along with it,