Summary:  Joe must know about his father’s past with Julia Bulette, even to the point of pushing his father into a lie.  Set shortly after “The Julia Bulette Story”.  A challenge story “Can you write from an outline”

Rated:  T  WC 1900

 

Consequences

 

“No, Joe, I don’t know Julia Bulette quite that well, I assure you,” Ben said quietly.  His youngest stood in front of him, practically shaking.  There was no sense riling the boy further, to Ben’s way of thinking, especially not in front of his brothers.

Adam tried to slide down into his chair and hide behind a three day old copy of the Territorial Enterprise.  Hoss managed to look very small for a big man with only a small book.

“Then you don’t mind if I burn these?” Joe held out a stack of letters bound with a green silk ribbon.  He pinned his father with an accusing glare full of all the hurt a seventeen year old could muster, then raised his hand to toss the letters straight into the fire.  Ben didn’t waver.  Joe tossed the letters with a sneer.

Ben was out of his chair so fast that his hand barely grazed the flame.  He held the packet and stayed in the crouch of a man ready to snarl and leap for just a moment, a mere blink of an eye, but it was enough to tell the more accurate facts of the story to Joe.  Adam turned away, but Hoss was dumbstruck.  Ben stood up, his face now clear of the anger from a moment ago, but he was only a few steps from Joe.  He sat back in his chair by the fire, the letters held tightly in his hand.

“Pa?” Hoss raised an eyebrow.  “them letters, are they, are they?” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“From Julia?  And kept in a tin in your desk where you told me to go look for some bills?  But I got my left and my right mixed up, and look what I found.  Yeah, Hoss.  But I didn’t read them, Pa.  I just don’t want to be lied to.”  Joe stood up straighter, like some vengeful demon born of an angel, how else could you explain how that beautiful face could look so terrible.

Adam folded his paper down.  “Whatever you may think, Joe, it’s all in the past.  And now you’ve made Hoss worry.  It’s nothing-“

“Yeah, nothing,” Hoss muttered but tried to sound convincing.  “But Pa, if it’s nothing, then why keep ‘em?  I don’t keep letters from gals about things like cattle, just love notes, so I don’t get-“

“Fine.  Fine,” Ben snapped and looked form Hoss to Joe.  His eyes stayed on Joe and he saw the questions, the hurt, the rage.  He’d seen the same in Hoss’s eyes, only the emotions in his middle son were tempered by an odd plea for an explanation.  Ben knew Joe would not stand for any more lies.  Besides, it wasn’t the letters he valued.  A flick of the wrist tossed the bundle into the flames as he held his youngest son’s eyes.

“Pa!” Hoss said with some disbelief as the flames took glee in turning the envelopes dark brown, then curling the top papers back to reveal pretty and completely unreadable handwriting as fire worked faster than the eye could follow.  Joe did not look at the burning package.  He did not believe this was the end of things.  His eyes told his father that this action was not the end of things.

Joe burned inside for eight more days.  He needed to know, had to know, and surely Julia would never tell.  The letters were burned.  All that was left was…

 

“Nope,” his older brother said firmly as he mounted his horse.  “Leave me out of this.”

“But you saw how Pa saved those letters!  I know he loved her, I know there was more there!  Please Adam, I need to know!” Joe begged at his brother’s stirrup.

“Then you’ll have to ask Julia.  I’ve gotta live in this family one way or the other.  You have your thoughts, Pa has his.”  Adam urged his horse forward just enough to move away form Joe.

But instead of facing the woman who’d laughed at him, laughed off his offer of marriage and everything he could give her, he went to Hoss.

“Look,” Joe tried one more time while Hoss cooled a new horseshoe in the cistern by the forge, “Adam’s all evasive.  That’s practically evidence, when it comes to Adam!  So Pa wasn’t coming clean at all when I asked him!”

“I dunno, Joe,” Hoss sighed and realized he had to pause in his work to listen to the agitated little brother else he’d get no peace.  “I think Pa wouldn’t lie about that.”

‘But if there wasn’t anything, then wouldn’t our ever upright and honest big brother open his big mouth and agree wholeheartedly?” Joe said rather snidely.  He paced, looked at Hoss, and passed again.  He’d have kicked something if there were something to kick.

“Adam sort of agreed that night,” Hoss frowned.

“No, he didn’t!  He evaded,” Joe nodded triumphantly, “and he evaded me again not five minutes ago.  There’s something more here.   And I need to know.  Deep down in me, Hoss, I need to know.”

“I believe Pa,” Hoss said firmly,  “and Adam just riles you up sometimes even if he agrees with you ‘till he’s blue in the face.  Enough, Joe.  You ain’t getting’ me riled up.  I’m done.”

“Well, there ain’t no opening your eyes, is there!” Joe snorted and tipped his hat back in shock.  He shrugged and walked out of the barn with a backward wave.

Ben had heard the conversation in the barn.  Joe was not quiet, the window above his desk was open and he’d caught all of it, including Adam’s rather unsubtle contribution.  Ben’s years of experience kept him steady as Joe burst in the front door, his entire body still radiating anger directed as his father.  Unlike the past days, though, Joe came to stand directly in front of that desk, not speaking until Ben broke first.

“Son, just because Adam is close-lipped does not mean there was anything serious between Julia and me.  You must understand that.”

“I don’t,” Joe said stubbornly.  “I won’t.  Why won’t you tell me?”

“There is nothing to tell,” Ben shrugged.  He’d already lied and burned the letters, may as well keep going, he thought sadly.  “She is what she is, you know that.”

“No, I don’t!” Joe raised his voice to his father, who winced.  “You’re not tossing me off, Pa.  Not like this!”

Four more days of tension passed in the house.  Joe was almost beside himself and knew where he had to go.  So, on a rainy Sunday afternoon after church, Joe steeled his courage, found it still lacking, and went to see Julia Bulette anyhow.

The boudoir, he knew it was called. It hadn’t changed any in the past short while, and Joe wondered idly if it had changed much since his father had started to call here.  He proudly and nervously refused to come in more than two steps. Although he made sure the door was closed, he had enough brains left for that, despite the sight of her.  He still loved her, loved all that he’d hoped to have with her, no matter their age difference.  But Joe could never forget her rejection of his sincere offer.  It drove him to know, to question, to demand.  And he did it all two steps from the door, hat in hand, asking nicely.

Julia denied it all.  She even tried to deny the Ben had ever visited.  The more she denied, the more polite Joe became, and persistent.  He pointed out the holes in her fabrications with care, and when all else failed, he told her that his father had kept the letters.  He did not tell her they were now ash, as he saw no purpose to that.

When the letters were brought up, a wall broke.  The woman Joe still loved and wanted to spend his life with finally shed real tears, although they were few and the few sobs were quickly stifled.  “He kept them,” she murmured, then turned to Joe and said, “and I kept this.”

Joe waited as Julia went to her vanity and opened a small drawer, took out a key, and opened another drawer.  She handed him what he’d been seeking.

It burned through his pocket all the way home.

“Pa?” it had taken two days to even speak.  Now he’d waited until he was alone with his father.

“Yes, Joseph,” Ben replied heavily and yet he kept his patience.  “Are you ready to give up now?”

“No, Pa.  But I want the truth, from you.  About this,” joe put the thin circle of gold on the side table by his father’s chair.

Ben’s face went near grey.  He looked up at Joe, then at the ring.  “Where did you get such a simple wedding band?” he asked neutrally although it half killed him.

Joe smile was full of hollow victory.  “Did Adam even know?  He couldn’t have.  He must have thought it a torrid affair.  Was that all it was to you, Pa?  A torrid affair?”  Joe ached inside.  He loved that woman to this second, and not just…

“It was not,” Ben said hoarsely as he leaned forward and picked up the delicate band.  “We intended…,” he blinked away the feel of tears although none fell.  “It did not go as…”

“Planned?” Joe supplied the word.  Julia had used the very same word.  He felt age creep up his spine and into his soul, a deep aching way of knowing that you could love with all your heart and that love just wasn’t enough for some women.  He was learning this at seventeen, and apparently his own father hadn’t learned it until he was mid to late forties.  Julia had not given the date, just the duration, which was very short.

“That word will do,” Ben inhaled with a shudder.

“Did Adam know?  Hoss?”  Joe whispered and picked up the ring.  He gave it to his father with his eyes oddly empty of tears.  He felt like he’d just grown up a whole lot more, as though his legs had gotten long and the world was a long ways down.

“No,” Ben said briefly.  He pocketed the ring.  “I was too ashamed.  It was annulled.  Clearly there was no intent on her part…”  there were so many things Ben could not say, yet the young man in front of him was perhaps the only one who could truly understand.

“Oh, Pa,” Joe bent down and hugged his father tightly, “I’m so sorry.  If I’d known, I never would have kept at this.”

“I know,” Ben sighed and hugged Joe back.  “Did learning this…help?”

“Yeah, although I feel like a heel,” Joe admitted as he stood up again.  “And I feel like I got off lucky, too. Like a spell broke or something.”

Later that night, Ben slid the fragile ring from his vest pocket and tucked it away with a more solid gold one, and wished he were as fortunate as his son.