OCTOBER 9th, 1885
I scarcely know where to begin.
I went to Lily as soon as I heard the news of Matt's murder. Matt Seely was not a very well thought of in the county. He was arrogant and bad-tempered and sneaky, and I am sure there will be those who say he had it coming to him and that it is just Territory justice. Sheriff Carver was at the Seely place when I arrived, and he said as much.
Having heard the news, Dr. Macy had ridden out to the Seely place. Matt's body had been brought in and was stretched out on the marriage bed. Lily sat very calmly at the chair next to his bed with her hands folded across her lap, looking down at him as if she were waiting for him to awake from an afternoon nap. For a moment, I thought he might so peaceful did he look. His clothes were remarkably neat and free of bloodstains, and though his face was pale, he wore a serene look.
"Where was the body found?" I could hear Dr. Macy ask Sheriff Carver.
"In the field by the road to town," said Sheriff Carver impatiently. "What dos it matter?"
Lily turned very slowly to me when she heard me call her name, and she raised a hand to me. I coudls see the laudaunum on the tavle beside her thatr Dr. Macy must have brought for her.
"He looks so peaceful, don't you think?" she asked me, and I said, "Yes, yes he does, Lily. He's in no pain at all."
"He's in heaven now," she said very calmly. "With Baby." She began to weep then, and she fell into my arms.
There was nothing to be done. Woody and Bug hastily made the unfortunate man a casket from some old board they found. He was placed into the back of the wagon, and at sunset, out sad little band of mourners followed it down the hill. Dr. Macy spoke a few words from the Bible, and then Matthew Seely was buried next to his tiny daughter.
We trudged back up the hill, and supported on Bug's arm, Lily was bundled into our wagon so we could take her back to our place. I do not know what will become of her.
OCTOBER 12th, 1885
Lily has come to stay with us for the time being. She hardly speaks. I know she tries to help with chores, but she hardly has the energy to do much of anything. Who can blame her?
Bug tries to cheer her, and he always has a bunch of wildflowers for her or a bit of wood he has carved into a bird or some animal. It makes her smile. For a time.
She had Woody take a letter into Sweet Grass for her relations in Pittsburgh. I don't know what got me. I'm usually not so clumsy with words. I said to her, "When they get the word back home about what has happened, they'll send for you. You can go and forget all of this ever happened."
I meant it to be of comfort, but of course, it was not. She turned to me, and her eyes burned.
"I don't want to forget, Jo. I don't want to forget about Baby. Ever."
"I'm sorry," I said and reached out for her hand.
"I know you are, Jo." She took it and pressed it to her face. "Can't you see I don't want to go? I don't belong in Pittsburgh anymore. I don't belong anywhere."
I was surprised she had said it. "Why, you belong here, then, Lily. With us."
She looked at me and her eyes were sad, but she tried to smile. "You've been so good to me, Jo. Thank you. I think you're just about the only friend I've got. Except Bug."
"Bug?" I asked her. I knew he was sweet on her, but I didn't know what kind of feelings she might have for him.
"Yes!' She looked at me and her face glowed. "He is the best man I have ever known. And he cares about me! He does!"
She looked down at her sewing and said no more. She was smiling to herself. It might have been the first joy she had felt in a long time, so I said nothing and left her to herself.
Later, I came in the house with some eggs. She and Bug were seated there at the table. They had their heads pressed together in conversation. Her hand was on top of his. They stopped talking when they saw me, but I got the distinct impression that I had interrupted something.
OCTOBER 19th, 1885
They came at sundown.
Woody was in the back field, leaving me and LIly by ourselves in the house. Perhaps that was the way they had planned it.
Lily noticed them first. We were just about to call the boys in for supper when she leaned out the door, squinting her eyes.
"Someone's coming," she said ominously.
I crossed over to her at the tone of her voice. In the distance, we could see them, a line sneaking off the road and around the back of the barn. Cowards!
Some of them had kerchiefs tied around their noses and mouths to disguise themselves, but I knew most of them. Farmers and merchants. Some of the county's finest citizens. They rode to my door in a leisurely fashion, as if they were paying a social call. All except for the shotguns some of them held across their laps.
"Stay inside," I said to Lily as if I weren't afraid, but I knew I had cause to be.
The men slowed to a halt, and I stood with my arms folded across my chest.
"We have no quarrel with you," one of them said. I knew him under the red bandana. I knew what he was capable of.
"You have no quarrel with anyone on my farm," I said. "Take your men and go, Malden."
With a nod from Malden, one of the others jumped from his horse. I took a step away, but he had my arms pinned behind my back, Lily shreiked and cowered fearfully in the doorway. Others had already dismounted and were searching, we knew, for Bug.
A man pushed past Lily into the house and others were headed to the barn and the bunkhouse. I prayed that he had seen them coming and had managed to find a good hiding place.
"Just tell us where he is, Jo," Malden said. "Don't make this harder on yourself."
I struggled to get free, but Malden's man had a firm grip on my upper arms. "I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him in days. He's long gone by now, if he has any sense," I lied.
There was a moment of hope. I could see Malden's cruel eyes narrow as if he was measuring the truth of what I had said. The man had come out of the bunkhouse empty-handed, and I thought that Bug would escape. But then the barn doors flew open, and Bug was being led out with his hands bound behind his back and the barrel of a shotgun to his head.
His eyes were wild with dear, and I felt for a moment as I would be sick. Behind me, LIly screamed out again. Malden looked at her in dusgust.
"This man killed your husband, Miz Seely. And you defend him?" No answer came, as I could see from the corner of my eye that Lily had crouched in the doorway with her hands clapped over her ears.
"He's killed no one! He's innocent! If you won't take his word, take mine!" But it was too late, and Bug had been thrown on the back of a horse. He turned to us, and there was a kind of resignation in his face. We knew all too well what was going to happen. The man who had been holding me finally let me go, and I tumbled to the ground.
The pack of them sped off with a thunder of hooves as I scrambled to my feet. Lily and I watched helplessly as they sped away.
It was only a few minutes later that Woody appeared around the corner with a cheerful smile He could have no idea, of course, what had happened, but he froze when he saw our horrified faces. I ran to him, the words spilling out of me.
"They've taken Bug! They'll kill him, Woody. You've got to stop them," I pled with him. His shoulders sank for a moment, but then he gave me a determined nod.
"Which way did they head?" He was racing over to Dasher.
"South. I'm coming with you!" I followed him, but he shook his head.
"No. It's too dangerous, Jo!"
"I don't care!"
"Well, I do! No!" he said again. "I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you, Jo. Besides, you can't leave Lily here alone."
I looked back at Lily, rocking and keening in the doorway, and I knew he was right. He tore after them while I went to LIly, and we clutched at each other, not knowing what I'd sent Woody into, and not knowing if we could see either of our men again.
We sat there with our eyes focused in the distance. I cannot tell now if we sat for fifteen minutes or three hours. We sat, holding our breath, sick with worry. The sun began to sink, and our hopes with it.
It had begun to grow dark, and Lilly shivered next to me. I slipped my shawl around her. I could make out the faintest hint of a figure on the horizon. A man on a horse, but he was not alone. He carried something. Someone. I stood squinting into the fading light as he grew closer, and my heart thudded with dread.
It was Woody, I could see it then, and he carried a body on the back of his horse. "No," I said aloud, and Lily, who had begun to drift in her exhausted fate, began to stir.
I rose from the bench in front of the house and stumbled forward as Woody reached the front of the house. He lifted Bug's body off the horse and stretched it gently on the ground. Bug's eyes stared up at us lifelessly. There was still a piece of rope coiled aorund his neck from where Woody had cut him down, too late, from a tree. Lily let out a piercing cry and stretched herslf across his broken body
It was a pitiful scene. Lily sobbed with hysterics, and Woody and I looked on. WE could help her no more than we had helped Bug. He had died afraid and alone for no reason -- none at all, and would had done nothing to stop it.
I covered my face with my apron and cried along with her. I felt Woody fold me into his embrace.
We buried him next to Mama and Pa. Woody made him a cross for his grave and carved "Bug" there. It was the only name we had known him by. We recited the 23rd Psalm.
"I don't even know if he was a Christian," Woody said as we looked down at the grave.
"He was a good, decent man," I said. "That's enough for me."
OCTOBER 22nd, 1885
They have done nothing in Sweet Grass. He was just another outsider who was going to make trouble. And so, Bug is forgotten.
But not by us. Never by us!
