The River Widow(70)
She had no time to ponder such things; she had to focus all her energy on succeeding. She had to set a fire to start slowly in a woodpile down at the still. She hoped to be able to get back to the house and in her bedroom before the fire reached the dynamite and the blast sounded. Jack’s idea about lighting one side of a woodpile and leaving the dynamite on the other side still seemed the best option.
But what if the fire didn’t catch and reach the dynamite? What if she had to go back and restart it again and again? Every time she left the house posed a risk of exposure, and each time she approached the still, she could be walking up at the same moment the explosion occurred, just as Jack feared. She could be hurt or killed, certainly found out. She remembered being watched when she went out to the barn the night Daisy slept there. She had to hope that the fire would catch on her first try and the explosion would happen at just the right time. And she had to wait for a really rainy day and then wait again for it to stop, leaving the woods damp.
Now, in the fields, she closed her eyes and tried to play out the hoped-for scene in her mind. Buck and Jesse would jump out of bed when they heard the explosion. Of course the dogs would be barking wildly, and then the men would think immediately of the still. They would panic, thinking that others would have heard the explosion and be on their way to investigate or help. They would rush to the still to hide the evidence of their moonshining, probably tossing things into the creek. They would be far away and so caught up in getting rid of the debris that they wouldn’t notice Daisy and Adah leaving the house and heading for the road. But would they ask Adah to help them? What would Mabel do?
And then there was the matter of escaping. She would have to wait for the perfect day, then go and ask Jack to meet Daisy and her down the road a ways at a guessed-upon time, then pick them up and take them to the docks. So Jack’s face would be the last one she saw before disappearing. This she had to accept, mournful as it was. Yet desire for him ran through her veins during the day and kept her awake at night.
And what if a fire started anyway and got out of control? Her mind conjured up ghastly images. It bothered Adah not a bit to think of all the buildings burning to the ground, not even the house, but she didn’t relish injury to any person or creature, including the Branches and the farm animals. And what if the fire spread to other farms?
Adah pushed her hair off her forehead and concentrated as she worked. Even the air felt different—the featherlike wind had a charged feel, a combustible quality to it. Now that she knew Betsy had been trying to get Daisy away from the Branches, Adah was even more determined to make that happen. In addition to saving Daisy, she would also be fulfilling the wishes of Daisy’s dead mother. It gave her renewed determination. Betsy had died a violent death because she had wanted to leave with Daisy. She had failed. Now Adah would succeed for her.
As her mind swirled with the details of her escape, she also came up with a plan to make the Branches think that leaving was the last thing on her mind. They needed to believe that her fervent goal was to get Lester’s farm back and stay nearby. It worked to her advantage for them to believe she was taking extra interest in tobacco cultivation, and so she asked questions, even those she already knew the answers to. She pretended to be teaching herself about successful farming, as if she hoped to be running a farm on her own at some time in the future.
One night over supper, while everyone ate in silence after a very hot day out in the fields for all of them except Mabel, Adah asked out of the blue, “When will Lester’s estate go to probate?”
They all startled at her sudden question, but Adah looked at Mabel first because her face was the one that usually revealed the most.
The woman paled and stopped eating for a moment, her eyes on Adah like a cornered animal peering at a predator about to pounce. Then just as quickly she darted her eyes toward her husband.
Buck wiped fried chicken grease from his mouth with the back of his hand, even though there was a napkin in his lap. He gave Mabel an almost indecipherable nod as if to say Remain calm. Then he set a hatred-filled stare on Adah. “We ain’t heard nothing about no probate. Not even sure what you’re talking about.”
Liars. Esther Heiser had told Adah they were awaiting the probate date. “Probate,” Adah said and touched both corners of her mouth with her napkin, then lifted her chin. “I’ve been told it’s what happens when someone dies without a will. We have to go to something called probate court, before a judge or someone like that. I’ve been told it will spell out how much of the farm is mine.”
Buck took a bite of chicken and then dropped the drumstick on his plate. “Like I said, we ain’t heard nothing about no probate.”
“Who you been talking to?” Jesse chimed in.
Buck shot him a look that said Keep your mouth shut.
Instead of answering Jesse, Adah just shrugged and tried to act the part she’d cast for herself. She couldn’t arouse suspicion; she couldn’t let anything show. Everything depended on that. Poker face. They had to believe she wasn’t thinking about leaving.
She said, “I guess I’ll have to find out myself.” Funny how at one point in time she had truly wanted to see a lawyer and hadn’t wanted the Branches to know about it. Now it suited her purposes to have them think she would see an attorney, even though she had no intention to do so. “Guess I’ll have to go see a lawyer about it.”
Silence reigned again for a moment, and the tension in the air was like a noxious fume. “You do that,” Buck eventually said while shooting a satisfied smile at Jesse.