Chapter 13

I left very early the following morning. I hadn't seen Louise again after our fight, and I didn't say goodbye. There was nothing I could tell her, and I really longed to feel liberated from that place. It suffocated me, and as soon as I started riding, the sensation of freedom was overwhelming. The loss of my parents and everything else that had happened to me naturally weighed on my spirit, but I felt different now. It is difficult to explain, but I was totally relieved.

When I first decided to go back to Virginia, I didn't know what my definite plans were. I hadn't thought if I would return to Rock Creek. I just wanted to sort out my parents' matters. I knew that since my parents were dead, there was no danger now. If somebody found the body in the field, nothing would happen. Actually, that was not really true. People would start making assumptions, talk, soil my mother's good name. It wouldn't be right. My mother had always been a good woman all her life, sacrificing herself for her family. Could I allow her memory to be sullied? I know she didn't do good when she killed that man, but I couldn't run the risk of anybody finding out. After the way she had died, she didn't deserve to be remembered by just that terrible point in her life. Naturally, people might not accuse her, and think it was my father's doing, but the shadow of suspicion would always hover over her.

I couldn't allow that. My pain was already too sharp, and thinking that even dead, somebody might harm my mother made me hurt even more. That would not happen as long as I was alive. I would sort out my father's outstanding matter. I would buy the house back, and then I'll try to find that body, and get rid of it. I had to do this for my ma. I felt very strong about it.

After that, I didn't have any plans. I felt tempted to remain in Virginia forever. There was nothing that joined me to Louise, and I'm sure she hated me. I had been the most horrible husband in just those few days, and I felt I couldn't be better. Yet, disappearing was not the way I usually act. I would hate myself for that. Despite my lack of feelings for my wife, I had to admit she didn't deserve that dirty trick. She had treated me with respect, and I believed I couldn't do less. So in that long journey I kept thinking about the best way to proceed. It wasn't right to break my marriage when I had used the money to solve my problems. But it wasn't right either to stay married for the wrong reasons. We had nothing in common. I would return and talk to her. She seemed to be a sensible woman, and I could reason with her. I couldn't give her the husband she hoped for or wanted. I was sure she'd agree with me, and then we could talk to her father. I would have used the money he gave us as a dowry to pay back the house, but I could do anything to repay him. I would work all my life if need be.

I put this matter at the back of my mind, and tried not to think about it. Before making a decision, or thinking about the details, I had to deal with the more urgent issue. I had to reach Manassas, and do my duty to my parents. I have to say that all those days on the trail did me a whole lot of good. I came to terms with my own reality. I had nobody. I was alone, and I needed to learn to live with my new circumstances. I decided not to rush. I took my time, enjoying the journey, and giving myself the chance to think about everything.

When I finally reached my destination, the stars were already shining. I headed for my old house to spend the night there. As I opened the door and let myself inside, I felt strange. Being here without my parents was very unsettling. I could almost feel their presence, almost hoping to see my mother busy in the kitchen, or hear my father's heavy steps. Yet, everything was silent, and the familiar smells were gone. I could only feel the air full of dust, a reminder of all the time the house had been empty. I was very tired, and went to my old bed where I crashed straightaway.

The following day I went to the bank. It was easy enough. Like John had said, I just had to say his name, and the money was mine. I stared at the bunch of dollars in my hand with disgust. Because of this money, I had sacrificed my freedom, and my parents had died… Just for this darn money. I wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. So I dashed to the tavern where I knew I would find the man who was the legal owner of our property. I scanned the place, but I couldn't find him. I knew he was a regular in the establishment, but he wasn't here. I asked the bartender, and he told me that Morgan – that was the fella's name – was out of town for some business, and would be back sometime that week.

As I left the tavern, I cursed my luck under my breath. I wanted to forget about this issue, but I'd have to wait a few more days before I could do just that. And now what? I asked myself as I stood in the street. Only one name came up to my mind. Doritha. I wanted to see her… check to see she was fine. I hadn't thought about her a lot lately. It was as my mind refused to remember her, because it hurt too much to acknowledge she wasn't mine… and would never be. Maybe it was a bad idea to find her, but I just needed to see her. I know I was a married man, and I would never do anything against the vows I had sworn even though I hadn't meant them. I was a gentleman, and a man of honor. I couldn't be in Manassas and not see Doritha. It would hurt, I knew that, but my desires were stronger.

I rode to her place, a beautiful house on the outskirts. As I stood before her door, waiting, I felt very nervous. The last time we had seen each other was almost two months ago, and I wondered what had changed. Was she engaged to be married? I knew her father was pressing her to choose a husband, and I imagined she had relented. My intention was not to disrupt whatever was going on in her life. I just wanted to talk, and see her… that's all, even though it broke my heart.

When the door opened, I was surprised. Instead of their maid, I found Mr. Simmons in front of me. The man was clearly taken aback by my presence. "Kid, boy, I thought you were miles away from here."

"I was…" I replied, both of us standing at the door. "I came to sort out some matters of my parents. They… they suffered an incident, and passed away." I didn't want to go into detail about the circumstances of how my parents had died. I didn't want to talk about that because I just couldn't.

"Oh my goodness… I'm very sorry to hear that," Mr. Simmons said.

"Thanks," I replied quickly. "I came to ask you if it would be possible to see Doritha. I want to say hi."

The man paused, and looked at me with a strange expression. "I'm afraid she isn't here now."

"Oh…" I let out in disappointment. Like many other times, I hoped to be asked to wait for her inside, but when the man didn't say anything else, I added, "Please could you tell her I called on her?"

"Of course," Mr. Simmons said. "I'll tell her. And glad to see you."

"Thanks," I just replied, and as I rode away, I had the feeling that there was something strange about Mr. Simmons. I didn't know what it was, but I found out soon.

The following days fell into a routine. Every morning I rode to town hoping that Morgan was back, and when I checked he was still away, I returned to the house. It was then that I started a grievous task. I wanted to find the remains of the man my mother had killed. Maybe it wasn't right… Sure it wasn't right, but I wanted to erase my mother's shame from earth. It wasn't easy at all. Our field wasn't too big, but as I dug inch by inch, it seemed gigantic. I didn't know where my father had buried the body, but I intended to find it even though it took me ages. I wondered why my father had never tried to get rid of the only evidence that might point out my parents' guilt in that murder. Then I remembered those terrible years of my childhood in which my father had just been a drunkard, and never cared about his family… much less about anything else.

I hadn't heard from Doritha yet, and I wondered why. Maybe her father hadn't told her about my visit for some reason, but despite my suspicions, I tried to wait, and give him the benefit of the doubt. She might show up one of these days. I wouldn't push things, and when I sorted out the matter about the house, I'd go find her again. Not rushing to see her was not easy; it took all my willpower to stay put, but I told myself that I had to do one thing at a time. I had to get rid of my worries first, and then I'd be in a better mood.

It was on the fourth day that I finally saw Morgan. He was in the tavern, playing poker like it was his custom, and I went up to him. Morgan looked up at me, and I said, "I came here to sort out our business."

The man glanced at me with a strange expression. He looked confused, and even apprehensive. For a moment I thought he didn't know who I was, and I pressed him. "It's about the property you won from my father," I added after that pause. "Can we talk in private?"

Morgan seemed reluctant, but finally he rose to his feet, and in silence we both moved to another table. He ordered a bottle of whisky, and I declined when he offered me a drink. I wanted to get down to business, and be done with this as soon as possible. "I have the money," I said without a preamble. "This is the amount you agreed to with my father," I added, placing the dollars on the table.

Morgan stared at me, looking as if I was playing a joke on him. His eyes darted to the money, and he even licked his lips as if he was before a succulent dish. "Where… where's your father?" he asked.

"That doesn't matter," I replied curtly. "You have to deal with me. Take your money."

With trembling hands the man grabbed the money, and quickly shoved them into his jacket pocket. "The house is yours then," he said. He started to get up from his chair, but I stopped him.

"Not so quick. Where are the deeds of the property?"

"The deeds?" he echoed in obvious confusion.

"The documents that state the ownership of the house. You have to give them to me," I explained.

"I don't have anything!" the man exclaimed. "Your father must have 'em!"

That didn't make any sense. Only the person who owned a place could have them. If my father had lost the rights to our property, he must have given Morgan the deeds. Otherwise, there was no reason for us to leave our home. I didn't believe Morgan, and I thought he was trying to trick me. Nervous as I was, I grabbed him by the collar forcefully, attracting the curiosity of everybody in the tavern at that moment. "Don't play with me, and give me the deeds!"

"I swear I don't have them!" the man exclaimed loudly over and over again.

I didn't want to let him go, but alarmed by our loud voices, the owner of the place came, and pulled us apart with the help of the bartender, threatening with calling the authorities if we didn't calm down. As soon as I released him, Morgan scurried away like a cowardly coyote, and I cursed him under my breath. That weasel was tricking me, but what I didn't know at that moment was that his deceit was very different from what I thought.

I was livid, and I was ready to report him. That money meant more to me than paying a debt. Because of that money, I was married to a woman I didn't love, and my parents had died. I couldn't allow that rat to fool us and then keep the house as well. Before going to the sheriff, I had to make sure he was lying. My father couldn't have had the deeds of our property. He couldn't… I knew as much.

I rode Katy at full gallop, faster than I had ever done, and I jumped off her before she had stopped. I rushed into the house, and I started looking, fully aware that my search would be fruitless. I rummaged in every cabinet, closet, and drawer in the house, but there was nothing. I knew that from the beginning, but I had to be certain. I ended my hunting in a little shed my father used to deal with his matters in when he still cared enough to farm the fields. In the shed there was a desk. I opened every drawer. I found empty bottles of whisky, all kinds of knick-knacks, and very old bills. There was a drawer I couldn't open. It was locked. I knew there wasn't anything there either, but I was curious, and I wanted to know what he had hidden there to have it locked.

I didn't have a key, but with the help of a knife, I managed to turn the lock, and open the drawer. Inside I found letters, and some papers. I took everything out, and to my astonishment I found out that the papers were actually the deeds to our property. I was speechless. That didn't make sense at all. If my father had the deeds, there was nothing legal that stated that Morgan had won the house. I didn't understand. I even remembered when Morgan came one day, claiming that the house was his, and we had to be evicted. If the deeds were here all the time, why did my father allow him to scare us like that?

I was furious, and I didn't understand a thing. Or maybe I didn't want to understand. I wished my father were here, and I could ask. There must be an explanation. This didn't make sense… at all, I kept repeating as I stared at the papers in my trembling hands. Angry, I dropped the deeds, and as I looked down to the discarded document, the letters that lay next to it drew my attention. There were three of them, and curious I picked one.

On the back of the envelope I read the name of the sender. It was John Boggs, my father-in-law. Checking the three of them, I realized that they all came from the same man. I didn't know why I was so curious, but I had the hunch that those letters contained something I had to read. Now I wish I had burned them, but I read them. I still remember the written words because I couldn't believe their content so I read them many times, hoping that I had misunderstood them, but no… unfortunately that wasn't the case.

The first one went straight to the point. After the formal greetings, John Boggs told my father the following: Remember that matter I helped you with years ago… you know, that unwanted "crop" in your field? I think you do. You told me then you owed me big time, and would do anything to thank me. Seems the occasion has arisen. I now need a favor… a big favor, and I think you can help me. For reasons nobody needs to know, my eldest daughter isn't eligible for marriage. A woman always needs a husband, and you have two sons. Don't you think it would be good for both of us to join our families? Of course I'm ready to show you my appreciation generously if you accept my proposition. You know, no harsh feelings if you refuse, but I'm really counting on you.

The letter finished with a figure… the number of dollars I was supposed to cost. I was more confused than ever. There was no mention of my father's problem with the poker game, and as I read the date of the letter, I noticed it had been written many months before the deed happened. I was starting to see clear for the first time in a long time. I didn't even dare to think about the possibility that my father had tricked me, but I knew it was true. Of course I didn't know what my father had replied. So I picked up the following letter, dated a month after the first one.

I see you still have a good eye, and know when you can't pass up a golden opportunity. I'm really glad you've accepted my proposition. I didn't expect any less from you, but please don't get me involved in your family problems. What you can tell your family is up to you. If you want to concoct a story instead of being straight with them, as I think you should, that's your business. It's not my concern, but I won't judge you for that. I didn't judge you when you came to me for help. I was very discreet, and nobody even knew I was there, not even your wife even if she was responsible of that 'crop'.

By now I was trembling. I had been fooled… there was no debt to pay, no poker game, no ghost threat over our house. My father had made that up because he was selling me to his friend. He only wanted the money. I and my mother had fallen for that. The third letter just explained some instructions, everything we were supposed to do when we reached the west. What I was feeling then was indescribable. To say I was furious, and distraught was nothing compared to the powerful feelings emanating in me. I wanted to cry, shout, and yell against everything, and everybody. It wasn't fair… It wasn't fair. I started to sob as I hadn't done for a long time, and without being aware of my own actions, I started running out of the house like a wild man, towards the field… the place that had started my ruin and my total misery.