Part 9 (1/2)
Mrs. Abbott was standing outside the door when Madison stepped into the hall.
”She's all yours. Her temper is a little frayed and her integrity is stretched to the limit, but her virtue is unsullied.”
Mrs. Abbott's gasp, a sure sign of her badly violated sense of propriety, made Madison feel better. Now he only needed to beat Hen senseless, and he might even feel cheerful.
George looked fed up when Madison reached the porch. ”I hope she came out of the interview in better shape than you. If Rose finds her with an elevated temperature, there's going to be h.e.l.l to pay.”
”That's the most obstinate, irritating female I've ever met,” Madison said, pointing toward Fern's room.
”That's how Rose described your brothers when she first came to the ranch. Are you sure those words aren't more applicable to you than Miss Sproull?”
”If you had any idea what that girl said”
”I know exactly what she said,” George interrupted.
Madison looked blank.
”It's July. The window is open. Half of Abilene knows what you said. I don't know what happened to you in the last ten years, but you weren't brought up to treat women like that, even when they irritate you. How many more times are you going to cause me to be ashamed of you?”
Madison thought he would explode. Why in G.o.d's name had he ever left Boston? He might as well have been facing his father all over again, his needling, his snide remarks about Madison's cleverness, making light of his interest in books, of his friends.h.i.+p with Freddy, making him feel small and unimportant.
He never expected it of George. George had been the one who tried to protect him, to explain him to his father, the one who tried to make him feel better when his father had left him shattered and shaking after one of his blistering tirades. Madison had thought he could depend on George at least, but it was obvious he couldn't.
”I don't give a d.a.m.n whether you're embarra.s.sed or not,” Madison said, so angry he had trouble keeping his voice steady, ”I mean to prove that Hen didn't kill Troy Sproull. Then I'm going back to Boston, and you'll never hear from me again.”
He turned and stalked off the porch, down the walk, and into the street. He wanted a stiff drink, and he was going to the noisiest, roughest, most dangerous saloon in town to get it. If Abilene lived up to its reputation as the wildest town in the West, maybe he could spend his time dodging bullets rather than hiding from his thoughts.
Fern wished she could have bitten her tongue off. She hadn't intended to drive Madison away in a rage. This whole mess was more her fault than his. Yet the minute he stepped into the room, she had felt violated. That had put her on the defensive. And when she felt defensive, she became belligerent. That was how she reacted to all men.
She wondered why somebody hadn't pointed it out.
They have. They just stopped a long time ago because it didn't do any good.
”I tried to stop him,” Mrs. Abbott announced as she burst into the room. ”It's not proper for a man to visit a woman in her bedroom.”
”He just came by to see how I was.” p.i.s.s and vinegar! Now she was defending him to Mrs. Abbott!
”It is not okay,” Mrs. Abbott declared, her sensibilities injured. ”He may have meant to be thoughtful, but he was quite rude. Some people think just because they went to a fancy school and wear fancy clothes they can act like a king or something.”
Fern didn't have fancy clothes and she hadn't even finished grade school, but she had been acting like bad-tempered royalty for years. She couldn't blame Madison for doing the same thing.
”He'll probably behave better when he's not upset.”
”If he comes around again treating me worse than a black slave, he'll have plenty of reason to be upset,” Mrs. Abbott declared. She gave the bedspread such a vigorous straightening that Fern feared for the seams.
”Has Mrs. Randolph returned?” Mrs. Abbott's countenance cleared as if by magic. ''I don't think so. It's quiet on the porch. She's never around but what that little boy is calling her name every half minute. Mr. Randolph positively dotes on her. You'd think it would ruin her the way he spoils her, but she's just as bad about him. It's hard to believe a man could be so besotted with a woman as big as a cow about to drop her calf.”
Fern didn't want to hear how George spoiled Rose or adored her despite her present condition. She felt sadly neglected and unwanted, and hearing how George wors.h.i.+ped his wife didn't do a thing to lift her spirits. On the contrary, it showed her one more thing that would never happen to her.
Mrs. Abbott seemed to have decided that the entire room needed rearranging after Madison's disturbing visit, even Fern's clothes, which caused the woman to grimace in disapproval when she touched them.
”And she's such a little thing,” Mrs. Abbott continued. ”So graceful despite being big enough to have two babies. It's no wonder every man in town treats her like a queen. I never saw a more gracious lady.”
You might as well say I have all the charm of an outlaw steer, Fern thought to herself.
Mrs. Abbott began rearranging everything on the table next to Fern's bed.
”But she doesn't sit around preening herself in the mirror. No indeed. If I didn't stop her, she'd do half my work. And her paying me to take care of her. Do what I will, I can't stop her taking care of my Ed. You won't find that kind of consideration every day. No, you certainly won't.”
Mercifully, before Mrs. Abbott's veneration for Rose could drive Fern to the screaming point, the object of her adoration returned. ”You're looking a little drawn about the eyes,” Rose said, giving Fern a rather searching look. ”I gather your interview didn't go well.”
I should think not,” Mrs. Abbott declared, fire once more in her glance. ”How could any decent female feel comfortable with a strange man in her bedroom? And shouting at her all the time.”
Rose looked inquiringly at Fern.
”He was put out about something I said,” Fern told her, unhappy at having to confess her folly.
”Him put out!” Mrs. Abbott exclaimed. ”Humph! You wait until I see him again. I'll put him out a bit more.”
”I don't think that's such a good idea,” Rose said. ”We want him to concentrate on clearing Hen of those murder charges. Making him furious isn't likely to help.”
”I'm sorry, but I can't have him violating my house.”
Rose tried to repress a smile but wasn't entirely successful. ”I don't think he meant to do that. Could you warm some milk? I think Miss Sproull should go to sleep.”
”Coming right up,” Mrs. Abbott said. She straightened a dresser scarf she had straightened twice already and gave the room one more glance before finally departing.
”I trust he didn't upset you too much,” Rose said.
”It was more a case of me upsetting him,” Fern admitted, so glad to be relieved of Mrs. Abbott's censorious presence she was willing to tell Rose practically anything she wanted to know.
Rose gave her a long, penetrating look. Fern felt as though the protective layers surrounding her soul were being peeled away one by one.
”Do you have to hate him so much?” ”I don't hate him,” Fern exclaimed, shocked to realize she didn't hate him. She'd thought she did. She had intended to. ”I just don't want him getting his brother off.” She couldn't explain about being undressed or about the chemise. Not even to Rose. ”But I don't hate him. I don't think anybody could.”
”Yes, they can.”
”Why? He's thoughtless and positive he's the only one who has any brains, but he's not really mean. He just doesn't stop to realize how what he says affects people. And he hates being here. Everything about Kansas irritates him. Especially me.”
”He probably finds it even more difficult to be with his family,” Rose said, her gaze still rather clouded. Now she was the one straightening dresser scarfs. ”In fact, I would like you to do me a favor.”
”Of course,” Fern said. After what Rose had done for her, it would be churlish to refuse any request.
”This may seem a strange thing to ask, but could you try to be nice to him?”
Fern opened her mouth to speak.
”I won't expect it of you if you can't, but could you?”
”Why?”