What Remains

By Bakerj
~~~

Joe

My fingers tightened around the iron-rimmed wheels of my chair.  I pushed down to move closer.  Evelyn stepped back.  That scared me more than climbing on that mare ever did.

“I know it’s been tough.  But I’m getting out of this chair.  I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, Joe.  No one can.  It’s just wishing and hoping.  I can’t build a life on that.”

“But… you’re my wife!”

“And you gave your word!  Two weeks, and you broke it.  I begged you to stop.  But you had to prove you could still break horses.”

“It wasn’t like that!”

With our best wrangler injured, and one horse remaining.  What else could I do but step in?  Except, looking back, she wasn’t all wrong…

When I announced I’d do the ride, Candy shook his head.  “No need.  She can wait till morning.”

“We’re down a man already.  Best clear her now.”

Candy’s hand clamped on my arm.  “Leave it, Joe.  Let us take care of her.”

The look in his eyes sent a spark of irritation up my spine.  “You think I’ve forgotten how to break a horse?”

The mare pawed the ground, plunging her head as foam dripped from her lips, drawn back over bared teeth.  I hesitated.  Maybe I should swap her for one of our ponies?  But she was the best in the string.  And I wanted to deliver the best. 

Now that mistake was demanding too high a price.

I drew a breath.  “You’re right.  I was a fool.  But we can make this right.  Stay.”

She shut her eyes.  “I can’t.”

“So that’s it?  You’re running back to your parents.  Then what?  Divorce me?  On what grounds?”

“Adultery.  I know that’s not fair.  But my family will handle the details.  You won’t need to be involved.  I’ll write once it’s done.” 

“Don’t do this.”

When she dropped to her knees and took my face between her hands, hope flickered.  Tears glistened in those beautiful eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

I let the soft fabric of her coat slip through my fingers.   “I will walk again.”

“When that happens, come find me.”

Like hell.

***
Ben

The buggy loaded with luggage surprised me.  Joe might be getting stronger, but now wasn’t the best time for visitors.

“Ben.  I was on my way to see you.”

Evelyn’s elegant traveling clothes had me asking, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Home, to New York.  I’m not coming back.”

“What?  But … why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  I didn’t marry Joe to spend my life taking care of a cripple.”

“What about your vows before God?  In sickness and in health?”

“This isn’t a sickness.  Joe isn’t going to recover or die.  He could live for forty years in that chair.  I want to be a wife.  A mother.  Not a nursemaid.”

I glanced across to the back parlor that had become Joe’s ever since that terrible day.  “He knows?”

“Yes.”

When she swept past me to the door, I turned.  “It can’t have meant much.”

This time, she couldn’t meet my eyes.  “Everyone has their limits, Ben.  This was mine.”

Evelyn walked out.  Leaving me to face my son.

Candy had told me what happened that day.  The mare had done her damnedest to kill my boy and almost succeeded.  For a week, Joe could barely do more than open his eyes.  And then came the realization that his injuries went deeper than cuts and bruises. 

I’d been right there when Paul Martin broke the news…

“You have swelling, pressing on the spinal cord.  This is why you can’t move.  Until that goes down, the legs won’t answer.”

“And when it does… I’ll walk again?”

“That’s hard to say right now.  The flesh is still warm, so there’s every chance.  Once the swelling’s gone, we’ll know more.”

Holding Evelyn’s hand tight in his, Joe grinned.  “Don’t worry, Doc.  I promised my girl I’d take her to the Fourth of July dance.  I don’t plan on letting her down.”

The dance had long since come and gone, and more weeks besides, and still there was no change.  Doubts were creeping in, but Joe’s conviction never faltered.

The buggy driving away drew me back to the door.  What makes a woman give up?  Stand before her husband and crush everything between them?  I couldn’t find the answer.  I prayed my son wouldn’t ask the question.

***
Joe

I sucked in a deep breath and wished I hadn’t.  The scent of roses filled my lungs.  From the first time I’d met Evelyn, I loved the scent of her perfume.  Now, it choked me.  This whole house was Evelyn—every stick of furniture, every shade of paint.  There was nothing here she hadn’t chosen or had a hand in.  I wanted to tear it down, plank by plank!

The door opened, and I met Pa’s eyes.  “You saw her?”

He crossed the room and grabbed the chair to sit beside me.  Pa never made the mistake of talking to me while standing.

“Come home, Son.”

How did he always know what I needed?

***
Ben

A week later, Joe started to feel the tingling.  So mild at first, he was terrified it might just be his imagination.  Then came the pins and needles.  When Joe jumped, yelping like someone had stuck a fork in his leg, we held our breath.  Finally, my son, who had never given up, took his first faltering steps toward me as I blinked back tears of pride.

Joe rested on the porch watching the sun drop behind the mountains.  Easing down next to him, I asked the question hanging heavy in the air.  “Will you write?”

The look in his eyes gave me the answer.  I never mentioned it again.

The letter from New York arrived six months later.  Joe never said a word.  After chopping wood for two days straight, he rolled his sleeves down, rode to town, and got drunk.  Hoss and Candy brought him home, but my hands removed those worn, dusty boots.

~ The End ~

March 2026