Kid swung to his feet. “You’re as stubborn as…”
“Dad,” Cadde finished for him.
“You’re nothing like Dad.”
“Oh, but I am. I’m just like him.”
“You resemble him, but you’re bigger, taller and have morals. Not once did you cheat on Jessie during that sham of a marriage. Believe me, I know, because I had to put up with your grouchiness. Dad probably cheated on Mom from the get-go. So you’re not good with the flowery words, but you show your emotions through actions. Jessie’s going to realize that sooner or later.
Right now she can’t see beyond the pain of losing the baby.”
Cadde rubbed his hands together. “I lost a baby and…a wife.”
There was nothing but silence.
“Okay, wallow in whatever misery you have to,” Kid finally said. “Just call if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
Kid stopped at the door. “Chance and I are flying to Louisiana in the morning. We’re drilling deep like you wanted, but there are times I think we’re going to hit China before the desired depth. Why don’t you come with us and see the action?”
“I have to stay here,” he murmured. “You and Chance can handle things.”
After Kid left, he went outside to feed Jessie’s animals. That was the only thing that brought him comfort. Winky was becoming a pest, braying and nudging him for more food. He couldn’t seem to fill the donkey up, but he wanted them healthy for when Jessie returned.
And she would.
Eventually.
THE NEXT MORNING JESSIE went to mass again with the children and loved listening to them sing. Afterward they all gathered in the big room around the tree. She could now look at it without feeling that crippling pain. It was there, though, and she fought that sickening sensation.
The nuns passed out paper bags filled with candy and an apple and an orange. “I dolci,” the children shouted, excited as if they’d received a bicycle or something equally expensive. Everything here was simple and down-to-earth and revolved around faith.
Later they gathered in the dining room for the noon meal. There was ham, ravioli, pasta, sauces, vegetables and panettone bread that was heavenly, plus milk or water to drink.
She finally had a chance to talk to Teresa about the room and Teresa said the nuns doubled up when they had guests. But Jessie decided she shouldn’t be a guest and she shouldn’t be a burden on the nuns. So she volunteered for work.
She swept and scrubbed the floors, helped in the kitchen and with the laundry. It was a bit of a shock to find there were no washing machines or dryers. The clothes were washed by hand on a board, hung out to dry and then ironed. Jessie had never ironed anything in her life but she learned. Sister Alice and two of the older girls did the laundry and they were glad of an extra pair of hands. They laughed at her a lot. Laughter was universal, just like music.
At night she was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep, but before she slipped into oblivion, she’d see Cadde’s face. She held it in her heart and in her mind, even though she knew she shouldn’t.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ROSA WAS FUSSING AT CADDE for not eating when the doorbell rang. He leaped off the sofa and yanked opened the door, hoping with everything in him that it was Jessie. Hooter Caldwell stood outside. Cadde’s heart sank.
“Mornin’, Cadde.” Hoot had his hat in his hand, chomping on a cigar, which reminded him so much of Roscoe.
“Hooter.” What was he doing here?
“Could I talk to you a minute?”
It had to be about Shilah and Cadde’s absence from the office. He wanted to slam the door in his face, but as a business courtesy he thought he’d hear the man out and then slam the door in his face.
“Sure.” Cadde led the way into the living room.
Hooter stared at the tree and the decorations on the floor. “Man, Christmas is over with.”
Cadde sat on the sofa. “What do you want?”
Hoot’s eyes were on Mirry lying beside Cadde. “What the hell happened to that dog?”
“What do you want, Hooter?” He felt he didn’t need to explain anything.
“Is Jessie here?”
Cadde looked at the man. “No. Why?”
“From the tree and decorations I’d say she hasn’t been here in a while.”
“No. What about it?”
“Well, now—” Hoot eased into a chair and placed his hat in his lap with extra care “—I did something and it’s been on my conscience.”
“You don’t have a conscience.”
“When it comes to Jessie, I do.”
Jessie. What did he know about his wife? The man was fixated on her. He knew that from the board meetings.