Part 23 (2/2)

I paused and flashed a worried look at Robert before continuing. All color had drained from his face. ”Later that same night, she came back and helped us escape. She had a car waiting for me and handed me the keys. I am quite sure that Herr Mueller found out what she had done and killed her for it.” There. It was said. Almost all of it.

”Mind if I take this picture for now? To identify the body?” the agent asked.

I nodded.

He looked at Robert and then back at me. He lowered his voice and said, ”So if her last name was Gordon, was she somehow related to the Reverend?”

”Yes. She was his wife and the mother of the little boy who was with me.”

He scratched his head. ”But I thought you were his wife.”

”Well, yes, well, it's a long story,” I answered, hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions.

Robert just sat on the davenport, his head bowed down, chin on his chest. The only sign of the impact of what he had just heard was how he was gripped his hands tightly together, as if they kept him in one piece.

After saying goodbye to the agent, I closed the door behind him and saw Aunt Martha had been listening from the kitchen. She looked at me, shook her head in sadness and disbelief, and walked up the stairs like an old woman.

I sat down beside Robert. ”I was planning to tell you about Ruth tomorrow,” I started. ”I'm sorry.” I waited a moment and softly said, ”Is there anything you want to know?”

Robert shook his head as if he didn't want to hear anything more. I just sat there next to him, not saying a word.

Finally, he glanced at me sideways, his pain stark and raw, and asked in a low and gravelly voice, ”is there anything more I should know?”

I told him everything. He leaned over, holding his head in his hands. I told him about the conversation Ruth and I had in my room. I felt I needed to tell him every ounce of truth, even the part I dreaded the most: As we were leaving, William had asked Ruth to come home. I told him that I asked her to return with us and that she had refused.

Then Robert stood up and glared at me, eyes blazing. ”How could you even ask her that? How dare you! You had no right!”

”She saved our lives, Robert. She saved us because of William. And that choice cost her dearly. She lost her life because of helping us to escape. I'm sure of that.”

The truth was I don't really know why I asked her to return with us. It was almost as if the Holy Spirit said it through me. Only G.o.d could be so willing to offer Ruth one more chance to make things right, one more opportunity to make a fresh start. I knew it wasn't from me.

Abruptly, Robert walked to the door. ”I need to be alone for a while.” His face held such anguish; I felt as if I had just poked a raw wound.

I watched him back the car out of the driveway and drive down the street. Then the frantic anxiety of the last few days started to seep away, leaving me with a deep physical exhaustion.

Aunt Martha let me sleep late the next day. When I woke, I went downstairs and found a kitchen table laden with food. Cookies and pies, cakes, and jars of homemade jam and preserves.

”What's all this?” I asked her.

”Folks have been bringing food by all morning long. They've been worried about you and William. About Robert, too.”

So was I. ”Did he come home at all last night?” I glanced out the kitchen window to see if the Hudson was in the driveway. It wasn't.

She shook her head. She looked terribly tired.

”Please don't worry, Aunt Martha. He'll be all right. He just needs a little time.” I tried to sound convincing.

I looked for William but found Dog, sitting patiently, below the tree house. I even think he was worried, if dogs did worry. I climbed up into the tree house and spotted William, playing with his toy trucks. ”Want to work on a lesson?” I asked him.

He shook his head.

”Want to play catch with Dog?”

Again, he shook his head. He just kept moving his toy trucks around, re-organizing them, checking over their wheels.

Oh Lord, please help this fragile home.

Dog and I walked over to the church office, but there was no sign of Robert.

After lunch, Judge Pryor stopped by the house to see me. ”Well, Louisa, looks as if you and Robert stumbled onto something mighty big. This is going to put Copper Springs on the map.”

”Do you have any idea yet how much money Herr Mueller stole?” I asked.

He stalled.

”Oh no. Is it worse than we thought?”

”We're just starting to find out,” he answered. ”There are more FBI agents coming to town, all the way from Los Angeles. It looks as if he has cleaned everyone out. Looted all of our a.s.sets. Most folks don't even know how much they've lost yet.”

After filling him in on Ruth's involvement with Herr Mueller, I confided, ”Robert left yesterday and hasn't been back yet.”

”Don't you worry, sugar. He'll be back when he's ready. He's just needs to sort it all out. He knows what he has waiting for him here.”

I hoped he was right.

Agent Gullberg came back in the afternoon; we went over every detail I could remember so that he could fill out more reports. At the end of the interview, he handed me back William's picture frame of Ruth and asked me what should be done with her body.

”Pardon? I don't quite understand what you mean.”

”We need a place to send it for burial.”

I looked back at Aunt Martha who was listening to us from the kitchen. She shrugged, as if she didn't know what to do, either. So I made a decision. ”We should bury her here, then, in Copper Springs.”

”Fine. I'll have someone get back in touch with you when the body is ready to be delivered. Thank you, ma'am.”

I wasn't sure Robert would approve of that decision, but he wasn't around when it had to be made. No matter what, that woman was William's mother.

Aunt Martha and I tried to keep up light chitchat, talking about the different foods people had brought by. We had an early supper. William's eyes stayed glued to his plate. It made me understand why the doctor thought he might be r.e.t.a.r.ded; his sadness covered him like a blanket.

Suddenly, I realized one other place where Robert might have gone. Of course! ”Aunt Martha, I know where Robert is! Do you think Rosita would let me borrow her truck?”

Her eyes grew large. That thought seemed to alarm her. ”I suppose so,” she said, apprehension in her voice. I kissed William on the top of his head and ran down the street to Rosita's house to ask her for the truck keys. She looked reluctant, mortified almost, until I explained where I was going and why.

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