The Waking Bell Read online

  “It’s the way we do things around here,” she said.

  I knew what she meant. I had to make nice, but I was terrified at the thought— truly shocked. I had thought I wouldn’t have to deal with the Reeves again, especially since they didn’t consider me their family. I didn’t know what to say or do.

  Reluctantly, I nodded. Even though I was unsure of what was expected of me at this point, but I glanced over at Matt. He seemed pleased at the suggestion.

  It dawned on me that being a Pritchard meant playing games with people you might not like and putting on a face in front of them. I suppose it was their way.

  It wasn’t the way of mountain people. Goldie always told a person exactly what she thought. There was no pretense.

  “I have never given a dinner,” I managed to say.

  “I will see to the details.”

  I sat and pretended to listen. I felt Matt’s eyes on me. I had no wish to disappoint him despite my hesitation, but I had no faith that the Reeves would simply show up as if nothing over the past year had happened.

  Matt had defied Mr. Reeves. I realized that was an unforgivable sin in Mr. Reeves’s eyes. I supposed his mother believed that dinner would be seen as a peace gesture. The man I knew, the man I had dealt with, though, would consider Matt an enemy for life.

  I concluded that Mrs. Pritchard’s motives were pure. She wanted only the best for her only child. It was me that had doubts that the Reeves would even come.

  The grandfather clock struck seven. I had never been happier to finish a meal. Matt waited on me to rush back to our room and retrieve my gifts for Goldie and Dickie. He stood at the bottom of the stairs with his mother behind him.

  He handed me the keys.

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling at my husband. I stood beside him for a long moment. Feeling uncomfortable under Mrs. Pritchard’s judging eyes, I asked his mother, “Would you like to accompany me? I’m certain Goldie would love to have you for lunch.”

  “No, my dear, I would never show up unannounced,” she said with an undeniable reprimand in her tone for my lack of etiquette.

  I felt Matt’s hand on my waist pushing me out the door.

  “Have a good day, Mother,” he said. “We’ll be back before dinner. Won’t we, Cady Blue?”

  “Yes, of course,” I answered.

  Matt got into his truck, and I in the car as if this were a normal occurrence. Strangely, I took joy in that moment. I imagined many more days just like this.

  At first, the car jerked when I tried to put it in gear. But then, I moved the seat closer to the steering wheel. I figured out I didn’t have to pull back as hard on the gear shifter as I did in Goldie’s truck. It gave me a jolt when I first started backing up the car, but then I put it in first with ease. I gave Matt a playful wave as he watched me with a broad grin.

  Driving down the road, I discovered my mood had lifted considerably. Matt was able to brighten my day just with his presence. Moreover, I was going home. I wanted to dismiss any fears Goldie had about me.

  I could hear her now, “Well, now, my Cady Blue is a lady.”

  I laughed to myself as I realized how much I missed Goldie. I missed her no-nonsense approach to life, how she laid it out straight whether someone wanted to hear it or not. More importantly, despite her hard surface, I missed the way she cared for others.

  I had so much to tell her. She needed to know what I had learned about the brooch. Perhaps she knew who Mable Adams was. The answers about Alfie were out there. We just had to make sense of the questions.

  The ride wasn’t as long as I thought it would have been. Around twenty-five minutes. We lived on opposite sides of town along the backroads. On the way over, I thought how much had changed in barely a week. I felt like a different person, but there was comfort going home. A constant I realized that would never change.

  After I parked the car, I stared at the place for a long while. It had been barely a week, but I felt like a different person. I shook my head. I needed to go inside. If Goldie saw me sitting out here getting sentimental, she would have a good laugh.

  Reaching over, I grabbed the presents. I knew Dickie would be excited with his; he loved to build things. I opened the front door like I still lived there, but something seemed odd.

  Dickie hadn’t come running out; there was no loud greeting from Goldie. They weren’t home. I frowned. They weren’t home. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw that Otis’s truck was gone, but Goldie’s truck was still in its place. They must have taken Otis’s truck.

  Further evidence was in the kitchen. Dishes were piled up in the sink, and the floor looked like it hadn’t been swept in a month of Sundays.

  Perhaps I should have called, but I immediately decided I wasn’t going back to Mrs. Pritchard. I picked up the broom. Afterward, I began filling the sink with hot soapy water. Looking out the window, I saw one of the cows wandering out in the yard.

  I wondered where Lenny was. Was he off today? Usually, he took care of the animals in the morning. I sighed. I couldn’t leave a cow to wander off. I glanced down at my clothes. I wasn’t dressed for getting cows back into the pasture. First, though, I had to find out where it got out. I walked out the screen back door and toward the barn.

  The dew was still on the grass when I stepped into the yard. I felt the wet soak through my loafers. The cow paid me no mind when I passed it and didn’t even lift its head. Its attention remained on its meal.

  From a quick survey of the fence, I didn’t see any obvious signs of where the barbed wire was down. My next thought was that it came from the barn. Someone had left the gate open, and it simply walked out.

  The barn door at the far end was ajar, far enough open that the cow could have walked out. I slid it back all the way. My eyes squinted from the bright sunlight into the dark barn. It took a moment for them to adjust before I saw someone hadn’t secured the gate from within the barn. Dickie, I thought.

  A sudden sound startled me. I heard distinct voices and rustling in the hay, followed by a hard groan. “Oh, god, Otis. Slow.”

  I walked around the stall door. There was a deep rumbling noise coming from the two naked bodies in front of me. Male bodies…Otis…standing there holding on to a muscular waist and muscular buttocks.

  Oh, dear lord—Frazier. Frazier! And Otis!

  Stunned, I stood frozen. My mouth was open, but I couldn’t scream. The bells came. I had no remedy for them or time to respond. Everything went black.

  There is an eerie silence in the stillness after the bells. The times when the bells explode in my head, I have no answer for the feeling like I have done something wicked, as if I’m the one to blame for the evil in this world.

  I can’t easily dismiss it.

  Dreams come after the bells, but I remember little from them…for I know it comes from the night my daddy died.

  I lie still in hopes that I’m not seen but to no avail. I hear heavy footsteps and the creak of the bed as a weight descends upon me. I’m struck with a paralyzing fear and a need for my momma. I open my mouth to call out for her, but no sound comes. I feel silent tears flow down my cheeks, but then the wetness turns warm and sticky. A piercing scream breaks the silence. It resounds through my soul as the smell of smoke overwhelms me. I taste it. More bells…louder and louder, then I wake screaming.

  I tried to tell Goldie once, but she told me it was best to forget. I have tried, but the bells are getting stronger.

  Rolling over, I realized I was in my old bed. It should have been a comfort, but it wasn’t. The memory of seeing Frazier and Otis came exploding back. I couldn’t get it out of my head.

  A wave of anger surged in me. Losing all semblance of my naiveté, I felt betrayed. I wasn’t an innocent. I reveled in the arms of my lover. I understood the physical longing I held for him, the overwhelming need, but he was my husband.

  Frazier was a preacher, well-respected and regarded in our community. He had women slinging themselves in front of him. He had courted
me. The whole congregation had reviled me when I’d broken up with him. He himself had seemed quite shattered.

  Despite people’s opinion of me, I wasn’t so stupid not to realize Frazier had used me. He wanted people to believe that we were a couple to hide his relationship with my stepfather. My stepfather! I hated him.

  I remembered Brother Mize’s sermon: A man lying with another man is the most sinister form of depravity. We must protect our children from this evil influence, or their souls will be condemned to hellfire!

  “Cady Blue, you’re up.” I studied Goldie as I rose off the mattress. I sat on the side of the bed for a long moment before addressing her. She knew, but there was no shock in her face or undeniable horror at what I had seen. Yet, I saw concern. For whom, I wondered, Otis or me?

  “You knew,” I whispered.

  “I reckon you might say that.” Goldie shrugged. “Why don’t you lie back down…you’ve had a rather big shock. When you get up, we’ll talk.”

  I hopped off the bed. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  My stomach churned. I was about to get sick. I couldn’t take it anymore and ran out of the room—out of the house.

  Behind me, I heard Otis ask if I was okay.

  Goldie replied, “Give her time.”

  I needed more than time. I needed to get as much space between us as I could. I got in the car and drove no more than half a mile down the road before pulling to the side and weeping.

  Chapter 12

  A poignant sadness gripped my soul.

  I carried on as I always had, keeping my thoughts deep inside me. I plastered a smile on my face while my heart ached on many levels. There was an immense loss that left a wide void.

  Betrayal cut deep. My anger carried me through the next few days. Matt suspected something was amiss but didn’t press me. He probably thought it was the adjustment to my new life.

  In a way, he was right, but the precise reason, he wasn’t. I couldn’t confess the truth. I hid my shame.

  A twinge of guilt pricked through me. Otis was family. Family is family, Goldie had always said. Don’t get to pick them, but in the end, they are all we have.

  Otis was my stepfather, but he was also the only father I had known. It was hard to admit that I worried about him as a person. He had condemned his soul to hell as well as Frazier.

  Frazier was a different concern. He had the audacity to preach about the virtues of a Christian life and the sins that would cast them into hellfire. I had seen the good works he had done, seeing to Mrs. Channing’s care while she recovered from her surgery; bringing groceries over to the Tyler’s when their boy went missing in the Pacific; and listening to old man Morgan as he told another tale about his youth as a Confederate soldier. Frazier had seemed so caring and concerned about his congregation.

  It was disheartening to discover that it had all been a façade.

  Not until I had sorted these troubling thoughts into some semblance of order could I face Goldie again. Till then, I was desperate that Matt didn’t discover this guilty secret.

  I threw myself into my new home and endured the tour of the house with Mrs. Pritchard. I discerned that she was ill at ease in my company as I was in hers. Though I found myself envying her. She moved with grace, her shoulders held back and her head high, her feet tread softly over the wooden floor.

  Mrs. Pritchard gave me vivid details of the care and time it took Matt’s grandfather to create the home. Pride was evident in her tone for being a Pritchard. I surmised that being a Pritchard carried with it great responsibilities, responsibilities in which I had already failed miserably.

  Oddly enough, I was drawn to the one room that she had not shown me. To spare my feelings, I was certain, but it did nothing to diminish my curiosity, which I satisfied the first chance I was given.

  I snuck into Moria’s room. It was in the second-floor turret and was the largest bedroom in the house. Closing the door soundlessly, I looked around the room. There was a fireplace with a marble mantel and a gilt-framed mirror above it. A crystal chandelier hung in the room, which I found immensely interesting for I had never seen one in a bedroom. The wallpaper was of pale pink roses and a gray-green hooked rug covered the floor.

  The canopied bed was made of mahogany and had a floral bedspread and matching ruffled bed skirt. The bay window had a gray-green cushion with decorative plush pink pillows, which looked quite comfortable. Beside the window sat a three-mirror vanity. The room had a closet but on the far wall was a huge wardrobe that matched the other furniture.

  Every wall was adorned with paintings of landscapes or flowers. It seemed quite impersonal. There were no portraits of family or friends. For that matter, any personal possession of the woman had been removed.

  There were no clothes, jewelry, or even a brush. The drawers and wardrobe were empty. It was as if all traces of the woman had been erased.

  For me, the room became an escape from the watchful eyes of Mrs. Pritchard. I would sit in the alcove and read. I discovered a library of books in the study. After lunch, I would cuddle up and read while waiting for Matt to come home. I had a good view from the window.

  A week after our return, I found myself reading Pride and Prejudice. I loved Jane Austen. I had read the book before, but it was like I was reading it for the first time. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would have been like to have been Elizabeth.

  Matt teased me that I was a romantic. I was. I wanted everything to have a happily-ever-after ending.

  I must have fallen asleep. Because when I awoke, I found Matt sitting by my side, smiling down at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. Then the thought struck me, I shouldn’t have been in this room—her room. I bolted up. “I—”

  “It’s fine, my dear,” he assured me. “I think it’s wonderful that you feel comfortable in here. You do know it was…”

  “Moria’s?”

  “It was supposed to be ours, but honestly, I never spent a night in here.” He looked around the room. “I haven’t been in here in years.”

  The realization that someone else had cleaned out the room wasn’t surprising. It must be hard to pack up what a person leaves behind after they die.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  He laughed. “It wasn’t hard to find you…you’re in the window.”

  I got down off the window cushion. Matt was regarding me with some doubt. I lowered my gaze.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Your mother and I have been planning the dinner party with the Reeves. She talked to Ginny Rose. We pushed back the date to a week from Saturday.”

  “Wonderful,” he said. “Then, perhaps, we could go out to the cabin this weekend. Would you like that?”

  My heart leaped. “Yes…yes…please.”

  He took my hand. “Then it’s a plan.”

  My spirits lifted. He had seen my need. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I was packed and ready to go when Matt got home Friday evening.

  The cabin had been our special place. I cherished the realization that it was ours now.

  The wheels of the car crunched over the gravel road. I had rolled down the windows of the truck to soak in the fresh air that followed the downpour of the afternoon, which had cooled the scorching heat of the last few days.

  We had managed to unload our bags and groceries before Matt captured me in his arms. The next thing I knew, his mouth was pressing hard into mine. He kissed me like he wanted to possess my body and soul.

  He was entirely and completely in charge. The tips of my breasts throbbed as he pushed me back on top of the kitchen table. My pulse stirred as he stripped off his clothing, but the ache that surged within me wasn’t soothed. I wanted—needed—more.

  Somewhere in the frenzy, my clothing fell to the floor. Soon enough, I was gasping in pleasure as he came harder and harder in me.

  Afterward, I realized that we had made love there on the kitchen table. But we weren’t done. We had only j
ust begun.

  There was a freedom here that we would never have anywhere else.

  In the morning light, I woke to the smell of bacon. Matt was up and making breakfast. I smiled to myself. I quickly put on a pair of high waisted shorts I had bought in Charleston with a crop top and pulled back my hair into a ponytail.

  When I entered the kitchen, I was impressed. He had cleaned and put the bags we had left on the counter into the cabinets. The table now had a full-course breakfast laid out on it. A lovely vase of day lilies was placed in the middle of it.

  Matt had never cooked for me. Surprisingly, it seemed I had married quite the chef.

  Afterward, we sat on the back deck drinking coffee. The birds sang. A slight breeze came off the still water. I found a quiet peace soaking in the scene.

  “Happy?” His one word brought me back.

  I glanced at Matt. “With you, always.”

  His eyes met mine. Then his expression changed. He bit his bottom lip as if he wasn’t certain what his next words would be. It scared me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He grimaced. “We need to talk.”

  Rising, he moved to me and bent down on one knee. He took my hand in his. “I want you to listen with your heart.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “Goldie called me at work. She had me go over to her place. We talked,” he said. “After a long consideration, we decided it was time for the truth. You need to know.”

  “What?” I felt my voice crack. He knows, I told myself. He knows about Otis and Frazier. He’s going to ask me for a divorce. My breathing became heavy like a boulder was on my chest.

  I jerked my hand back. Unconsciously, I placed it over my mouth and shook my head. The bells, those damn bells, rang.

  He reached over and caressed my face. “It’s okay. All of it will be okay because we have each other.”

  “You don’t know—”