Chapter 6 - A Doctor Who Asked the Right Questions
Dr. Bell’s visit changed something in Dela.
Not completely.
Fear did not vanish because a physician wrote words on paper.
But the injury was no longer a secret existing only between her and the man who caused it.
Someone else knew.
Someone respectable.
Someone Warren could not easily dismiss as hysterical.
That mattered.
The morning after Warren’s letter arrived, Dela asked Rufus for another sheet of paper.
“What for?”
“I’m writing Dr. Bell.”
Rufus handed it over.
She sat at the table.
For almost an hour, the page remained blank.
Finally she wrote:
Doctor,
If anything happens to me, please keep your record.
Do not give it to Warren Marsh.
Then she stopped.
Those sentences sounded like the words of a woman expecting to disappear.
Dela tore the page in half.
Rufus looked up from sharpening a knife.
“Problem?”
“I’m tired of writing like someone already defeated.”
A small smile moved through his beard.
“Good.”
She started again.
Dr. Bell,
Please preserve the medical record you made concerning my injuries. I may need it for legal proceedings.
I will contact you again soon.
Dela Marsh.
Three sentences.
Yet writing them made her heart pound harder than climbing the mountain.
Legal proceedings.
She stared at the phrase.
Rufus read nothing over her shoulder.
Another detail she noticed.
Warren had considered every letter she wrote his property.
Rufus treated paper as though it belonged to the person holding the pencil.
Dela sealed the note.
“How do I send it?”
“I’m riding into Timber Crossing tomorrow.”
“I’ll come.”
Rufus frowned.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
She did not sleep much.
The next morning they saddled two horses.
Rufus wanted her to ride his gentler mare while he took the gelding.
Dela objected until the first mile reminded her exactly how much her ribs disliked horseback travel.
They descended through pine forest under a pale winter sun.
Bear ran beside them.
Timber Crossing emerged near noon.
It consisted of one main street, a general store, blacksmith, boardinghouse, church, saloon and several houses wearing snow like hats.
Dela pulled her scarf higher.
Every face looked dangerous because any one of them could have seen Warren’s notice.
Rufus noticed her tension.
“Want to turn around?”
“No.”
“You can.”
“I know.”
They continued.
At the general store, conversation paused when they entered.
Dela felt every eye.
Rufus calmly began gathering flour, coffee, salt, lamp oil and nails.
The storekeeper, Mrs. Talley, was a broad woman with steel-colored hair.
She looked at Dela.
“You Conn’s housekeeper?”
Dela’s pulse jumped.
“Yes.”
Mrs. Talley nodded.
“About time.”
Rufus frowned.
“I managed.”
“Poorly.”
Dela almost laughed.
Mrs. Talley continued stacking supplies.
“Man once lived three months on beans because he didn’t want to come down the mountain.”
“That happened once,” Rufus muttered.
“Twice.”
Dela looked at him.
“You said you could cook.”
“I said I could stir.”
She laughed.
Several people turned at the sound.
For one dangerous moment, Dela forgot to be afraid.
Then the store door opened.
A deputy entered.
Dela went cold.
He looked directly at her.
“Mrs. Marsh?”
Rufus moved.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that he stood slightly between them.
The deputy raised one hand.
“Easy, Conn.”
Dela whispered, “How do you know my name?”
The deputy removed his hat.
“Notice came from Butte.”
Of course.
“Are you here to arrest me?”
“For what?”
She blinked.
He looked uncomfortable.
“Your husband’s claiming you’re unwell and may be held against your will.”
Every eye moved to Rufus.
His expression became dangerous.
Dela stepped around him.
“I am not being held.”
The deputy studied her.
“You saying that freely?”
“Yes.”
“You can leave Conn’s place whenever you want?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to go back to your husband?”
The entire store seemed to hold its breath.
Dela’s heart hammered.
For years, she had said what Warren required.
At dinners.
At parties.
To servants.
To herself.
Now strangers waited for her answer.
“No.”
The word came quietly.
The deputy leaned closer.
“What?”
Dela raised her voice.
“No. I do not want to return to Warren Marsh.”
The sentence landed like an ax into wood.
Permanent.
Real.
Rufus said nothing.
Mrs. Talley said nothing.
The deputy nodded slowly.
“All right.”
Dela almost sagged.
“That’s all?”
“Not quite.”
He reached into his coat.
“Your husband filed papers asking authorities to locate you.”
“Locate isn’t return,” Rufus said.
The deputy looked at him.
“You a lawyer now?”
“No.”
“Then let me finish.”
He turned back to Dela.
“No warrant. No criminal charge. Far as I’m concerned, you’re an adult woman standing in front of me saying you’re here voluntarily.”
Dela exhaled.
“But,” he added, “Marsh has influence. He’s trying to get a judge in Butte to declare you mentally incompetent.”
Her stomach dropped.
Rufus swore.
The deputy nodded.
“That was my reaction.”
“If he succeeds?” Dela asked.
“Could appoint himself or another guardian.”
“And then?”
“He could argue you must be returned.”
Warren’s plan became clear.
He did not need chains.
He intended to make the law become them.
The deputy lowered his voice.
“If you have proof of abuse, now would be a good time to gather it.”
Dela thought of Dr. Bell.
Then of the ledger.
Proof.
More than Warren knew.
She looked at Rufus.
He waited.
Did not tell her what to do.
Dela straightened.
“Where is the nearest attorney who doesn’t owe Warren Marsh a favor?”
Mrs. Talley answered from behind the counter.
“Helena.”
The deputy shook his head.
“Closer one in Granite Falls. Hannah Pierce.”
“A woman?” Dela asked.
Mrs. Talley smiled.
“Best argument you’ll ever enjoy losing.”
Rufus paid for their supplies.
Dela mailed her letter.
Before leaving town, she stopped at the newspaper office.
Rufus waited outside.
Ten minutes later she emerged.
“What’d you do?”
“Placed an announcement.”
“What kind?”
Dela handed him the handwritten copy.
It read:
DELILAH MARSH IS NOT MISSING.
I am residing voluntarily away from my husband.
I am of sound mind and do not wish my location disclosed.
Any statement to the contrary is false.
Signed,
Dela Marsh.
Rufus read it twice.
Then looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You have that expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one where you’re trying not to say something.”
His eyes softened.
“Proud of you.”
Three simple words.
Dela looked away because they hurt more beautifully than she expected.
They rode home before dark.
Near the cabin, Rufus stopped his horse suddenly.
Bear growled.
Dela looked ahead.
Someone had nailed a piece of paper to their front door.
Rufus dismounted first.
He removed it.
No words.
Only a charcoal drawing.
A crude cabin.
A woman standing inside.
And beneath it, a coffin.
Dela stared.
Rufus tore it in half.
“He wants you scared.”
“It’s working.”
“That doesn’t mean he wins.”
She looked toward the forest.
Somewhere beyond those trees, Warren’s reach was getting closer.
And now Dela had done something she had never done during seven years of marriage.
She had contradicted him publicly.
Warren Marsh had lost control of his wife.
May you like
Soon, he would discover that she intended to take something far more dangerous from him.
His reputation.
