Eternity (Montgomery/Taggert 17)

My Darling Joshua,

Just one more paper to sign, then you are free. I shall bring it to you on the thirteenth of October. How are our dear, dear children?

With all my love,

Nora

P.S. Won’t you reconsider, or is the life of a farmer agreeing with you?

When Carrie finished reading the letter—three times—she too was trembling. “Who—” She cleared her throat. “Who is Nora?”

Very slowly, Josh turned toward her, then sat up. “It seems that she is still my wife,” he said softly.

Gaping at him, Carrie stood stock still. Her family and others had told her that life was difficult, but she’d never believed them. Whenever anyone told her that life was hard, she’d told them that life was what you made of it. She said that people either chose to be happy or sad, and she always had examples of poor people who had one misfortune after another in their families yet they were happy, and others who were rich and had everything to be glad about yet were miserable. One day, when Carrie was about sixteen and was spouting this great wisdom, her mother had told her that happy people had never really truly been in love. She said that love was about two thirds joy and one third the most awful pain on earth. The pain of love beat death all to bits. At the time, Carrie thought her mother was not very bright, but now she understood exactly what her mother meant.

Carrie straightened her shoulders. “How opportune for me. My brother is coming tomorrow, and he can take me back to Warbrooke with him.”

Josh was off the couch in seconds, his hands on her shoulders. “I thought the divorce was final. I thought it was final a year ago. God knows I paid enough to get rid of her!”

Carrie gave him a cold look. “And I thought you were a widower. Of course you never thought enough of me to tell me any different. Would you get out of my way? I need to get back to my shop.” She looked him up and down. “Not all of us are business failures, you know.”

At that Josh dropped his hands from her shoulders, because at the moment he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Stepping back, he allowed her to leave the room.

Chapter Fourteen

Looking in the mirror, Carrie pinched her cheeks, wishing she could put some of the redness from her nose on her cheeks. She dabbed more powder on her nose. ’Ring wasn’t going to like her wearing powder, and he wasn’t going to like her red eyes, either. But most of all, he wasn’t going to like what she had to tell him. He was going to be angry at her.

Carrie could see tears forming in her eyes again. How much water could a body excrete? She’d cried all night and all morning.

After she’d left Josh yesterday, she’d gone back to her shop, planning to lose herself in her work. That’s what her brothers always did when they were upset about something, but it hadn’t worked for Carrie. Maybe it was that running a shipping company was more important than choosing dresses for women, but Carrie hadn’t been able to think of anything except that her husband was married to someone else. She hadn’t even known that his wife was still alive. He may love her, but he didn’t trust her enough to tell her anything about himself.

Two hours after she’d left Josh yesterday, Tem and Dallas had come to her shop and wanted to see her. Carrie had tried to dry her eyes so the children wouldn’t see that she’d been crying, but they had noticed immediately.

Tem asked her if she’d read their father’s letter. Thinking only of the letter from Nora, Carrie said that she had indeed read it, and because of the letter, she was going to have to leave Colorado forever.

When the children left her store, they had seemed like old people, tired, weary old people who had seen too much misery in their lives.

After the children had gone, Carrie went to the tiny house she rented at the back of her store and cried herself into a fitful sleep. As for the women in her store, those who worked for her and her customers, she couldn’t have cared less.

Now, this morning, she had to meet her brother’s stage, and the last person on earth she wanted to see was her brother ’Ring. Maybe he wouldn’t say, I told you so, but she’d see it in his eyes. He’d always thought she was flighty and too indulged by her family, and she was proving him right.

When Carrie put her bonnet on, she didn’t even bother to tie the ribbon in a jaunty little bow as she usually did, for she didn’t really care what she looked like.

When she walked to the depot, she didn’t look at the people who called hello to her or answer them. All she wanted to do was get this over with, to see her brother and have him arrange for her to go back to Maine. Where I’ll once again be the baby of the family, she thought. The little girl they all think of as their toy, a place where I’ll no longer have my own little family or a man who loves just me. Of course she hadn’t had that when she thought she did.

She arrived at the depot thirty minutes before the time the stage was due, and the depot manager laughed when he saw her. “That stage ain’t been on time in years and it ain’t gonna be today. I’ve heard they had Indian trouble. Probably be days before it’s here.”

Carrie didn’t even look at him. “My brother will see that it’s here on time,” she said tiredly as she sat down on the bench.

This proclamation set the man into howls of laughter, and he left the building, no doubt to tell his story to the rest of the townspeople.

He wasn’t out of the door two minutes before Josh entered the building.

“My goodness,” Carrie said, “if it isn’t Nora’s husband.” She turned away to look at the wall.

Sitting down by her, Josh took her hand in his, but Carrie snatched it away.

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Carrie, I’ve learned something from you: You never admit defeat. Never.”