it had slipped out.
Stuart went rigid, and then with a violent gesture he came to his feet. “All right. I will!”
“Stuart, I didn’t mean it.”
Stuart did not hear her, for a mixture of anger and old attractions filled him as he threw on his clothes. “I’m going to Fayetteville,” he said. “I’ll be playing there for three nights.”
As soon as he was dressed, he picked up his suitcase, threw some clothes in, and then moved toward the door.
For Leah it seemed to be the end of the world. The truth about Cora was out in the open now between them. She got up and fixed her eyes on him. She stood between Stuart and the door and said, “Stuart, don’t go.”
“Don’t try to stop me, Leah. I’m going.”
And then Leah said in a voice that was not her own, “If you go, don’t bother to come back!”
“Maybe I won’t!” he said, then shouldered past her.
She heard the door slam. Stiffly she moved over to the chair beside the bed and sat down in it. All her strength seemed to drain out of her, and she cried out, “Oh, God, what’s happening? I’m losing everything.”
****
Stuart Winslow hooked up the chestnut stallion to the buggy, threw his things in it, and drove through the night. It was dark overhead, so dark that he could barely see the road, but he knew it well enough.
As he traveled along, he came to a familiar fork in the road. The right branch led to the Simms’s place, the other to town and on to Fayetteville. For one moment he drew up and held the reins so tightly that his fingers cramped. He felt like a man on the razor’s edge, and then with wild abandon he pulled the line. “Go on, Tony. Giddyup!” He took the road to the Simms’s place.
Ten minutes later he was approaching the house. He saw a light in the upstairs window and could see Cora moving about the room in her dressing gown. He picked up a small stone and threw it so that it struck the glass.
Moving over to the door, he waited until it opened. When he saw Cora in front of him, all the attractions and thoughts about her he had tried to fight off came flooding back. For a fleeting moment he thought about the argument he had just had with Leah. Then he took her in his arms and held her, saying, “I’m a rotten dog, Cora.”
A moment’s silence passed, and then she took a deep breath. “Sure you are, Stuart, but that makes two of us. I’ve been waiting for you. I knew you’d come.”
****
Leah was mixing biscuit dough when she heard the sound of a buggy approaching. She had slept very little that night, and dark circles were under her eyes. A hope suddenly rose within her. He’s come back! she thought and moved over to the window. Her heart sank when she saw that it was not Stuart but Luke Garrison, the sheriff.
She saw him get out of the buggy and went to the front door. “Hello, Luke,” she said. “You’re out early.”
“Hello, Leah.”
“Come in for some coffee.”
Garrison hesitated. He shrugged his muscular shoulders, and his eyes had an odd expression. “I have some bad news.”
Instantly, fear washed over Leah.
“Something’s happened to Stuart. Has he had an accident?”
Garrison looked down at the floor. He had removed his hat and twisted it awkwardly and nervously in his strong square hands. When his eyes came up there was compassion in them, and he said, “I don’t know any easy way to say this, Leah.”
“What is it, Luke?”
“Your husband killed Carter Simms last night.”
For one moment the room seemed to reel, and for the first time in her life Leah knew she was fainting.
Seeing her stagger, Garrison leaped forward, put his arm around her, and led her down the hall to a couch. He helped her sit down and said, “Maybe I should have had somebody else come to tell you, but I thought—”
“It’s all right, Luke. Tell me what happened.”
Garrison reached up and tugged at his droopy mustache and said, “Well, I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but it looks
Stuart went rigid, and then with a violent gesture he came to his feet. “All right. I will!”
“Stuart, I didn’t mean it.”
Stuart did not hear her, for a mixture of anger and old attractions filled him as he threw on his clothes. “I’m going to Fayetteville,” he said. “I’ll be playing there for three nights.”
As soon as he was dressed, he picked up his suitcase, threw some clothes in, and then moved toward the door.
For Leah it seemed to be the end of the world. The truth about Cora was out in the open now between them. She got up and fixed her eyes on him. She stood between Stuart and the door and said, “Stuart, don’t go.”
“Don’t try to stop me, Leah. I’m going.”
And then Leah said in a voice that was not her own, “If you go, don’t bother to come back!”
“Maybe I won’t!” he said, then shouldered past her.
She heard the door slam. Stiffly she moved over to the chair beside the bed and sat down in it. All her strength seemed to drain out of her, and she cried out, “Oh, God, what’s happening? I’m losing everything.”
****
Stuart Winslow hooked up the chestnut stallion to the buggy, threw his things in it, and drove through the night. It was dark overhead, so dark that he could barely see the road, but he knew it well enough.
As he traveled along, he came to a familiar fork in the road. The right branch led to the Simms’s place, the other to town and on to Fayetteville. For one moment he drew up and held the reins so tightly that his fingers cramped. He felt like a man on the razor’s edge, and then with wild abandon he pulled the line. “Go on, Tony. Giddyup!” He took the road to the Simms’s place.
Ten minutes later he was approaching the house. He saw a light in the upstairs window and could see Cora moving about the room in her dressing gown. He picked up a small stone and threw it so that it struck the glass.
Moving over to the door, he waited until it opened. When he saw Cora in front of him, all the attractions and thoughts about her he had tried to fight off came flooding back. For a fleeting moment he thought about the argument he had just had with Leah. Then he took her in his arms and held her, saying, “I’m a rotten dog, Cora.”
A moment’s silence passed, and then she took a deep breath. “Sure you are, Stuart, but that makes two of us. I’ve been waiting for you. I knew you’d come.”
****
Leah was mixing biscuit dough when she heard the sound of a buggy approaching. She had slept very little that night, and dark circles were under her eyes. A hope suddenly rose within her. He’s come back! she thought and moved over to the window. Her heart sank when she saw that it was not Stuart but Luke Garrison, the sheriff.
She saw him get out of the buggy and went to the front door. “Hello, Luke,” she said. “You’re out early.”
“Hello, Leah.”
“Come in for some coffee.”
Garrison hesitated. He shrugged his muscular shoulders, and his eyes had an odd expression. “I have some bad news.”
Instantly, fear washed over Leah.
“Something’s happened to Stuart. Has he had an accident?”
Garrison looked down at the floor. He had removed his hat and twisted it awkwardly and nervously in his strong square hands. When his eyes came up there was compassion in them, and he said, “I don’t know any easy way to say this, Leah.”
“What is it, Luke?”
“Your husband killed Carter Simms last night.”
For one moment the room seemed to reel, and for the first time in her life Leah knew she was fainting.
Seeing her stagger, Garrison leaped forward, put his arm around her, and led her down the hall to a couch. He helped her sit down and said, “Maybe I should have had somebody else come to tell you, but I thought—”
“It’s all right, Luke. Tell me what happened.”
Garrison reached up and tugged at his droopy mustache and said, “Well, I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but it looks
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