His Secondhand Wife. Cheryl St.John

senior Mr. Cutter and an old drover that I know of.”

      A hole had already been prepared for the casket. The people gathered and four men lowered it into the grave. Kate got a sinking feeling at the permanence of the act. Levi had been her husband for such a brief time. All these folks had known him longer than she. But she carried a part of him inside her. A baby he’d left her before he’d run off and taken up with another man’s wife. How many of these people knew that part? she wondered. Thinking of it, Kate felt used and of little value.

      Reverend Davidson read from the Book of Psalms and said a prayer. Estelle sobbed woefully and dabbed her nose with a delicate lace-edged hankie. Two sympathetic women friends braced her on either side.

      From under the brim of her bonnet, Kate studied faces. Some were curious, others were filled with empathy. Noah’s was shaded as always. He stood apart, his chin down and his right hand in his pocket as it had been during the entire service.

      When the praying came to an end, Noah, having pulled on a pair of gloves, stepped forward, took up a shovel and began to move earth from the mound beside the grave into the hole.

      Kate’s eyes filled with smarting tears. She wasn’t sure if she was crying for Levi, for herself or for Noah who determinedly covered the wooden coffin with dirt.

      Marjorie gave her a sympathetic hug. “You poor dear, so young—much too young to be a widow. Noah is gruff and seems unreachable, but he’ll do right by you. I trust he will.”

      Kate nodded. She believed that, too, or she wouldn’t have been here.

      Kate didn’t know how she endured the day. It lasted forever and the house and yard were continually filled with strangers. She was introduced to Eldon and Mildred Sweetwater and learned that Eldon and his son Burdell were the town bankers. Burdell’s wife, Diana, was a lovely woman with two children.

      Annie Carpenter was the seamstress Estelle had told Kate about, and she was married to a blue-eyed man named Luke. Estelle made a point of telling Annie that they would be visiting her for a wardrobe soon.

      “I have two ladies working for me now,” Annie told them. “So we should be able to handle your clothing needs quickly.”

      Kate met the Renlow family, nearby ranchers who were also related to the Sweetwaters. So many curious and assessing gazes were cast her way, she felt like a two-headed calf in a carnival.

      At one point Kate looked out over the array of buggies and wagons, the smatterings of folks engaged in conversation beside makeshift tables of food, and imagined herself instead at the lake Noah had told her of. She pictured a smooth, placid body of water, turquoise like the river that flowed down from Indian Peaks, with soft grass along the banks and mounds of clover in which to lie back and gaze at the clouds.

      Noah had disappeared once people arrived and swarmed over the Rockin’ C like ants on a cake crumb, and she couldn’t blame him. Wherever he was, she’d bet it was a far cry better than being here.

      Kate ventured around the side of the house to escape the press of neighbors. Along the entire north side lay a garden in early spring garb. Rocks had been used as curving borders along the beds. The ground appeared freshly turned around the plants. Kate couldn’t name most of the greenery, but she recognized the rosebushes planted in abundance.

      What a lovely sight this must be when the buds came into bloom! The garden lay just below the triple floor-length dining room windows and would be beautiful even from inside. She planned to throw open the windows and smell the roses once they bloomed.

      Noah, a gardener. It was difficult to imagine.

      At last gathering her resolve, she returned. Eventually the ranchers and townspeople expressed their sympathy for the thousandth time and bid their goodbyes. Estelle accepted a ride from Dr. Martin, wedged her valise in the back of his buggy and rode off with a wave and promises to return and assist her newly found daughter-in-law.

      Kate entered the kitchen, where dishes had been washed and stacked and the table was laden with food in various containers and wraps.

      She hadn’t been able to eat more than a few bites all day, but she still wasn’t hungry. She was exhausted to the very marrow of her bones, however, so she climbed the stairs, removed her shoes and dress and fell onto the bed in a heap.

      It was dusk when a rap at the door woke her.

      Kate sat up, disoriented for a moment, and then the room and the day rushed back into her mind. She gathered a folded quilt from the foot of the bed around her and padded to open the door.

      Noah stood holding a plate of food and a mason jar filled with milk. “You should eat.”

      She stepped back. “I suppose I should. I do feel a little hungry now, thank you.”

      He didn’t enter.

      “Have you eaten?” she asked.

      “Doin’ that now.”

      “If you don’t mind, I’ll dress and come down to join you.”

      He nodded and turned away. His boots sounded down the hall and then on the stairs.

      Kate donned her dress, then took a few minutes to brush out her wildly mussed hair and braid it. She left the braid hanging loose and found him in the dimly lit kitchen.

      “There were certainly a lot of folks here today,” she said, taking a seat and picking up the fork he’d placed beside her plate. “That says a lot about the respect for your family.”

      “I run a big spread. Spend a lot of money in town.”

      She eyed him. “None of them are your friends?”

      He shook his head.

      “Why not?”

      He shrugged and ate.

      Kate sampled one of the casseroles on her plate. “Do folks know? I mean, about how exactly that Levi was killed?”

      “I didn’t tell ’em. Estelle sure won’t.”

      “But gossip will travel, don’t you think?”

      “Can’t say.”

      She picked at her food again. “Who planted the rosebushes on the side of the house?”

      The fork paused on its way to his mouth. He lowered the bite to his plate. “My mother had a rose garden. It was overgrown and full of weeds when I thought to save it a few years back. I sent for more bushes.”

      “The garden must be lovely when it’s in bloom. I can’t wait to see it. And the smell—why, it must come right into the house and fill every room.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Too bad they aren’t blooming yet. We could have placed some on the grave today. The preacher did a good job, don’t you think? The prayer was especially touching.”

      “Not much for prayin’ and the like.”

      “You go to church on Sundays, don’t you?”

      “No.”

      His reply caught her by surprise. Her mother had always taken her to church and nearly everyone they knew attended. “Are you a heathen, then? You don’t believe in God?”

      “I believe in God. He’s not the problem.”

      “What is the problem?”

      “People.”

      “Oh.” She’d heard how Estelle spoke of and to Noah, but surely not everyone shared her low opinion.

      “You go,” he said. “Ride with Marjorie and Tipper.”

      “Sunday’s still three days away,” she replied. “I have time to think about it. Everyone stares at me….” She shook her head to dismiss the thought.

      Noah laid down his fork. “You have