His Secondhand Wife. Cheryl St.John

get ’em.”

      She did as instructed.

      Noah stood. “I have work to do. Good night.”

      “Good night.”

      He turned and entered the small room where he kept a desk and his ledgers and closed the door behind him.

      Kate lit an oil lamp and carried it to the dining room, where she sat it on a long table that had been pushed to the side to make room for the coffin and an array of chairs.

      She seated herself in the chair nearest the closed casket.

      The baby chose that moment to give her a healthy jab and she covered the spot with her palm.

      “I’m here, Levi,” she said softly into the still room. “Your baby and I are here. At your home. Noah came to fetch me. He’s a strange fellow, your brother. I still haven’t had a good look at him. But he’s very nice. And he’s making a home for us. Like you were going to do.”

      She blinked and let her gaze travel the pine box. “Why didn’t you come back? I thought you loved me.” Her voice broke and her throat grew thick with tears. “I thought we were going to be a family. You said you’d find a job and come back for us. We’d have a fine house, you said.”

      She recalled what Noah had told her about a man named Robinson catching Levi with his wife. The pain of that betrayal had begun to sink in.

      “What you did was wrong,” she whispered into the still room. “You left me waiting. Were you ever going to come back? Were all those promises you made just lies?”

      He hadn’t even been where he’d told her he was going. He’d lied. And he’d left her. Played her for a fool. He’d been attentive and hadn’t given her time to breathe when he’d been eager to kiss her and make love to her. She’d held out, sure that she wanted to be a virgin when she married.

      And he’d asked her to marry him. Swept her off to a preacher and spoken the vows all pretty and nice. They’d spent two weeks together in his room at the boarding house, eating in the restaurant, making love each night. And then he’d started slipping away to play poker, staying out late and coming in drunk.

      She hadn’t been happy about that and they’d fought. For another week he’d stayed close, but then he told her he was going to look for a job. He needed to get away from the city, and there was nothing she wanted more, so she’d encouraged the plan. She’d cheerfully waved him off and watched for his return. He hadn’t thought it would take more than a week or two.

      Three weeks turned into four and she couldn’t afford the room at the boarding house on her own. Kate got sick every morning, bleak evidence that Levi had left a babe in her belly. She’d set aside her pride then and asked her mother to let her stay with her until Levi came back.

      Her mother had harped from day one that Levi was out for one thing and once he had it he’d be gone, and Levi’s disappearance had been her opportunity to rub Kate’s nose in callous I-told-you-sos.

      Kate had swallowed embarrassment and clung to her hope that Levi would be back. Her time at the laundry and at her mother’s was marked. She’d be leaving any day.

      Each day her hope slipped a notch.

      Each week her anger and shame increased.

      Each month her desperation had grown until she didn’t know whether it or the baby was feeding off her soul.

      “You lied,” she accused, her voice no longer wavering. “You used me and you lied. I want to forgive you. I should. I know I should sit here and pray for your soul and forgive you. But you know what, Levi? I don’t forgive you.”

      She stood and turned her back on the coffin holding her husband’s body. “I just might never forgive you.”

      And with that, she picked up the lamp and swept from the room.

      Chapter Three

      As he’d promised, Noah filled a tub of hot water for her the following morning. The shades were already pulled—she’d noticed he preferred them that way, and as he left the kitchen, he told her to lock the door behind him.

      “Won’t be back till evenin’,” he said. “But Estelle will be here before long.”

      “I’ll be ready,” she promised. She locked the door, removed her clothing, then soaked in the deliciously hot water before washing her hair. Finished, she stoked the stove, combed out her hair and heated a flatiron to press the wrinkles from her dress.

      She had donned it and was pinning up her hair when there was a knock at the door.

      Kate unlocked and opened it.

      A handsome woman wearing a black dress and matching hat held a vase of flowers while she looked Kate over from head to toe. She had graying brown hair and aristocratic high cheekbones. Her blue eyes widened when she noted the girth of Kate’s belly. “Oh my!” She stepped into the room. “You’re Katherine?”

      “Yes, ma’am. And you’re Levi’s mother?”

      Tears welled in the woman’s eyes. She turned away, set down the vase and tugged off her black gloves. “I can’t believe he’s gone. He was my only child.”

      The complete lack of regard for her stepson struck Kate as insensitive, but she replied, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

      She faced Kate once again. “You’re with child?”

      Kate unconsciously touched her stomach. “Yes.”

      “Noah didn’t bother to tell me.”

      “He didn’t know until two days ago. I don’t think he knew about me until then. I’m not quite sure how he did know to find me.”

      “He said the men who…associated with Levi in Masonville told him where he’d find you.”

      “Oh. I see.”

      Estelle moved to the nearest window and opened the shade with a cluck of disapproval. “Can’t have you sitting in the dark now, can we?”

      “I just finished bathing and ironing my dress.”

      Estelle glanced from the tub of water to Kate’s dress. Her mouth seemed pinched when she said, “Don’t you have something black? You’re in mourning, after all.”

      “This is my nicest dress. I know it barely fits now, but it’s quite pretty.”

      “As my son’s wife, you’ll need appropriate clothing.”

      Kate looked down at her ruffled bodice and some of her optimism faded. Perhaps the dress was inappropriate for a widow.

      The woman opened the door and hurried onto the back stoop where she rang the dinner bell.

      Two hands came running as though there was an emergency. “Somethin’ wrong, Mizz Cutter?”

      “Come empty the tub before company arrives,” she instructed.

      They glanced at one another and lumbered forward.

      “Harper Kimble,” the man with a mustache said to Kate as he passed. He wore fringed trousers and a red shirt with flowing sleeves.

      “Kate Cutter,” she replied. “Pleased to meet you.”

      “Newt Warren, ma’am,” the other man said as he picked up a bucket. The two of them bailed bathwater and Estelle picked up the flowers and led Kate into the dining room.

      After placing the vase on the table, the woman left the shades down on the other windows and lit candles, then moved to stand beside the coffin. “Why is it closed?”

      Kate shook her head. “I don’t know.”

      “Have you not looked upon