Wink of an Eye

“Are you sure you want to do this?  Why not let Clem deal with it?”

I paused in checking my rifle to look at Pa.  “I introduced them.  I’m the only one who should go.”

“You’re not responsible.”

Pa knew I understood that, but I guess he felt he needed to say so anyway.  “It’ll take me a day to get up to the cabin and back.”

***

The lump in my gut seemed to grow heavier the nearer I got to Frank’s cabin.  His piece of heaven, he called it.  We found the spot on a hunting trip, and he’d asked if he could build there.  “Working down a mine’s like burying yourself alive.  I need a place to breathe clean air now and then.”  Of course, we’d said yes.  Frank was my friend, and now I had to bring him in for murdering his wife.

I’d stood next to him on their wedding day.  The way he kept looking over his shoulder, it seemed likely he’d cut and run, and I’d held on tight.  My teeth clenched.  I should’ve let him run!

Sarah was one of a kind.  When I’d asked her to the dance, I was set on getting closer.  But the look in her eyes when I introduced Frank left me out in the cold.  

I should’ve fought for her, but I’d been happy for my friend.  Happy for them both.  A wedding was sure to be in the cards, but when Frank asked Sarah, she hesitated.

He’d looked like a sick donkey when he told me, “I don’t know what’s wrong, what I’ve done.  Joe, could you…?

God forgive me, but I’d played cupid and asked.

“I do love him.  But… I worry about his drinking.”

Frank worked hard, and like most miners, when he drank, he drank hard.  But Frank didn’t need it.  I told Sarah that.

Her fingers dug into mine.  “Are you sure?”

“What’s wrong, Sarah?”  When she dropped her gaze, I urged, “You can tell me.”

The seconds ticked by before she said, “Pa was a drunk.  I saw how Ma struggled putting food on the table and clothes on our backs.  I don’t want that.”

“Tell Frank.  He’ll understand.”

Her soft brown eyes had shone with tears when she’d smiled and nodded.

The next time I saw him, Frank slapped me on the back and told me the good news.  When I’d asked what happened, he’d laughed and winked.  “I promised to give up drinking.” 

They’d solved their problem.  I thought they were happy.

The thud of the axe rang through the trees before the cabin came into view.  Dismounting, I walked Cochise out into the clearing.  My chest tightened.  How could Frank end Sarah’s life, then chop wood as if he hadn’t a care in the world?  He wore no gun on his hip, but I kept my hand near mine. 

The crunch of my boots on the dried pine needles made Frank look up.  He grinned.  “Well, howdy, Joe.  What brings you all the way up here?”

I blinked.  “I came to take you back?”

Frank set down the axe and wiped his hands.  “Is something wrong?”

“Frank—”

“Hold on.  Sarah’ll want to know you’re here.”   Turning, he marched to the cabin and bellowed through the door.  “Sarah.  Joe’s here.”  Then, he paused and added, “Joe Cartwright.  Who else?”

The ground pitched under me.  But I hadn’t imagined Sarah’s body on her parlor floor.  I’d knelt beside her and lifted her head away from the stone hearth.  I’d stared at the blood on my fingertips.  I’d closed those beautiful eyes. 

Sarah was dead.  So, who the hell was Frank talking to?

“Come in.  Have some coffee, and you can tell me what this is all about.”

The leather slipped through numbed fingers when I wrapped my rein around the hitch rail.  Following Frank inside, I looked around.  “Where’s Sarah?”

He thumbed to the door over his shoulder.  “She’s dressing.”

The remnants of breakfast sat on the table.  One plate was empty.  A fly crawled over the food still piled on the other.  My heart congealed like the eggs.  Turning from the coffee pot, Frank followed my gaze and grimaced.  “Sorry about the mess.  We weren’t expecting company.”

“Whose plate is this?”

“Sarah’s.”

“She wasn’t hungry?”

Frank chuckled.  “Sarah always says the mountain air makes her hungry as a bear.”

Picking up the plate, I held it out.  “No one’s eaten this.” 

His hand quivered when he took it.  “I don’t understand.  She ate every bite.”

“What happened yesterday?  A neighbor says she heard you two arguing.”

The tin plate rattled when it dropped back on the table.  “Some folks should learn to mind their own business.”

“Did you argue?”

“This may surprise you, Joe, but all married folks argue.”

“What about?”  When he didn’t answer, I leaned forward, wrapped my palms around the roughhewn wood, and glared at my friend.  “What happened?”

Frank scuffed his hand across his face.  “I was late for supper.  Sarah was all riled up because I’d gone to the saloon.  She made a big fuss, saying I’d broken my promise.  It was one whiskey.  What’s that to get upset about?”

I should’ve realized.  That day when I’d asked him, and he’d winked.  I closed my eyes.  “She never told you.”   

Frank didn’t hear me.  Pacing around the room, he continued, “She called me a drunk.  Said I couldn’t stay away from the bottle!  Well, I got mad.  Told her I’m a grown man.  If I wanna drink, I’d get one, and I didn’t need her permission.  I don’t know what got into her. She started screaming about how she’d put her trust in me.  Said I was nothing but a liar.  Pounding me with her fists.  That’s when I grabbed her and—”

“What, Frank.  What did you do?”

Staring at the hands he held out in front of him, Frank murmured, “I only wanted her to stop … it was just a little push.”  He stepped back and wiped the sweat from his lip.  “But she was fine.  We decided to ride up here to be alone together.  Like when we first got married.”

When he met my eyes, his lips tightened.  “You’ll see.  Sarah!  Sarah, come out here!”  Frank strode to the door and burst through into the little bedroom beyond.  “Sarah!” 

I followed and watched as he searched, tearing the quilt from the bed and ripping open the tiny closet.

“She’s not here.”

“She was, Joe.  She was right here!”

“You know where she is, don’t you?  You know she’s dead.”

“No.  No.  It ain’t so!”  When realization entered his eyes, the horror in them chilled me to the bone.  Frank dropped to his knees.  “Oh, God!  Sarah.  What’ve I done?”

The anger that had traveled with me all the way up the mountain died where I stood.  My friend had destroyed more than he realized.  I knew the reason why Sarah had been so upset.  Why his taking that drink had mattered so much.  Doc Martin told me all about it.  He’d given her the news earlier that day.  Sarah was carrying Frank’s child.

I brought a broken man off that mountain, and Frank never made it to trial.  Two days later, Clem found him in his cell.  He’d hanged himself. 

Frank never knew about the baby.  I didn’t regret not telling him.  But if I hadn’t stepped aside or stepped in … or just asked about that damn wink!

“Y’know, Son, you can’t let the whys and what‑ifs eat you alive.”

Pa eased down next to me on the porch.  I might’ve known that missing whole conversations at the dining table wouldn’t go unnoticed. 

“I wish they were that easy to forget.”

“I’m not saying you forget.  I’m suggesting you learn to live with them.”  His hand grasped my knee. The fingers tightened, telling me everything I needed.  “C’mon, your brother’s looking forward to a game of checkers.”

Mistakes aren’t wiped away or forgotten.  But Pa was right.  A man lived with them.  Standing up, I straightened and followed him inside.

The End