"It's not sewn up as neatly as the lawyer would have done it… but yes, I think it'll hold up."
A terrible sense of irony struck her. Then the old Adeline would never have won. The money would never have been hers anyway. It would still have been put in trust. And the Johnsons wouldn't win either, because Addie would stand fast by the alibi she'd provided for Ben. True, there were suspicions about Ben in the sheriff's mind, but suspicions wouldn't prove he had killed Russell. The only evidence that existed was circumstantial. The question was, would the Johnsons go to extra lengths to get Ben out of the way now?
"I'm afraid for you," she said in a low voice, and Ben gave her a humorless smile.
"Don't be. There's no need." But his confidence frightened her, as if he were thumbing his nose at the designs of fate.
Russell's funeral was short and efficient, the way he would have wanted it. He was buried on Warner land, in the family plot. The simple white marker would be replaced later by an elaborately carved marble one. Although only family members and ranch hands were allowed at the graveside service there was an endless river of callers for days afterward, people pouring in from distant counties to pay their respects. Everyone had a story to tell about some favor Russell had done for him. It seemed he was owned thousands of favors.
Since Caro was bedridden and May grief-stricken, Addie was the only family member able to take visitors out to the grave site. Back and forth she trudged with the callers, wishing she could tell them how much easier everything would be for her if they'd just stayed at home and sent letters of condolence. It was a surprise when Ruthie and Harlan Johnson showed up as representatives of the Johnson clan, their faces strained with anxiety as Addie opened the door to let them in. They half-expected to be turned away. Big George or Jeff wouldn't have been let on the ranch at all.
Addie received the couple with as much graciousness as she could muster. Only one tense moment occurred, when Ben, who'd been informed of the callers, strode into the house, his manner deceptively relaxed. Harlan had asked diffidently about trying again to negotiate an agreement about the water rights, causing Ben's eyes to turn cold. "You tell Big George," he said softly, "that Russell's death won't make any difference in the way this ranch is run."
Finally the number of visitors slowed to a trickle, and Addie had more time to take care of the housework. May spent most of her time sleeping in her room or taking care of Caroline, leaving the running of the house to Addie, who had never suspected how difficult it was to oversee the cleaning and cooking, the washing and ironing, the hundreds of details that had to be taken care of. She also found time to help Ben with the overload of business correspondence. She wanted to know as much as possible about their circumstances now. Ben had been appointed executor of the will and would manage all the financial concerns of the Warners and the Sunrise Cattle Company. Upon his marriage to Addie, he would jointly own Sunrise with the rest of Russell's children.
It was the opinion of everyone in the country that the marriage couldn't take place quickly enough. Addie was annoyed by the prudish streak in the townspeople, who had such earthy ways it was difficult to believe her affair with Ben was causing such a commotion. "You'd think we were the first couple ever to sleep together before their wedding night," she had complained to Ben, adding that their engagement should have been enough to satisfy others' sense of propriety. "For heaven's sake, after all Mama's been through, people won't let her alone for asking about when we're going to get married, and whether or not she thinks we sneak off when no one's looking."
Ben was amused by Addie's self-righteous airs. Nevertheless, he too insisted on having the wedding a short time from now, in two weeks. That was nothing even close to a decent interval of mourning for Russell, but Addie would be branded a scarlet woman if they waited longer. As things were now, most people preferred to think of her as an innocent girl who'd been taken advantage of, which suited Ben just fine. He'd rather be regarded as a debaucher of virtue by all of Texas than have a single thing said against Addie. As for sneaking off together, there was no question of that. They each wrestled with private demons. Making love was a pleasure neither of them felt entitled to, and even if they'd had the inclination, there were eyes upon the two of them at all times.
The routines around the ranch were the same as they'd always been. Work on the fence continued, including repairs made to the new places that had been cut. Cade and Leah went to school every day. Addie found some comfort in the amount of work she had to do. She liked the feeling of being useful and needed, and was glad that May seemed to have little interest in assuming her old responsibilities. To the rest of the family, life seemed curiously similar to what it had been before, and though they felt Russell's absence keenly, their world had not fallen apart with his death. Ben had taken the reins in hand, managing the ranch with apparent ease. His authority was well-established, and the support of the ranch hands was unfaltering, as it always was in times of trouble.
The family turned to Ben in the same ways they had turned to Russell, whether it concerned money, family, or personal matters. Although he'd refused to take Russell's place at the table, they all recognized him as the head of the family now. May mentioned to Ben that she wanted Russell's bed taken out of the house, and the next day it was gone, hacked to pieces and burned by the superstitious cowhands. Addie gave Ben lists of supplies needed for the kitchen, and a boy was dispatched immediately to the General Store. The porcelain face of Leah's doll cracked when she dropped it, and Ben gave her a dollar to buy a new one. They all relied on him without a second thought, casually adding their problems to the burdens he already carried. It seldom crossed anyone's mind that he might be mourning for Russell in his own way.
Only Addie understood the extent of Ben's grief and sense of loss. She'd been copying a letter in Russell's office the afternoon Ben had walked in with an absentminded look on his face. Suddenly he froze as he met her eyes, looking startled to see her there. He was the first to speak.
"I wasn't thinking," he said slowly. "I just walked into the house with a question for Russ. I forgot he wasn't here." And he stood looking at her silently, amazed at himself.
"I forget sometimes too," she said.
Ben swallowed hard, nodding briefly. Addie recognized his expression. It was the same one she’d worn as she'd looked into the mirror for the first time after waking up in another world, when she'd realized part of her life was gone forever. That's one thing I'll never have to be afraid of again, she thought grimly. I know what it's like to lose everything, and I know that somehow I got through it. That must mean I'll get through all of this too. Wordlessly she stood up and held out her arms to Ben, wanting to help ease his pain. He was not the kind to ask for comfort, but she would always offer, even if he decided to tum away from her.
Ben's face was strained. His mind was clouded with confusion. Long ago he had sworn never to rely on a woman he loved, never in this way. Enjoy her, pleasure her, take what she was willing to give, but never give her this power over him. And yet, hadn't he already taken that extra step, that one step too many? Addie's eyes were filled with knowledge of him, the secrets he had told her, the understanding he'd allowed her to have of him as a man. All of it he had given to her as if it had been her right. Now he was independent no longer. There were moments such as this when he realized the hold she had on him, and for a split second he wanted to break away from her.