The Major's Wife

Her eyes grew wide. “My father promised you a divorce?”

“Yes, he did.” Seth hurried to shut the door before the entire compound heard him. “What were you thinking that night? Why’d you climb into my bed?”

“I—I...”

The way she trembled from head to toe sent a wave of guilt curdling in his stomach. He took a step back, but wasn’t going to back down on his questioning. He needed some sleep—in a cabin that didn’t smell like a flower garden.

Another sneezed raked his body.

“Bless you,” she repeated. “And I don’t know why I did that.” She spun, then walked across the room so the table separated them. “I thought I was going to marry another man, but—”

“He was already married,” Seth supplied.

“Yes,” she answered quietly, “he was.”

That despondent little whisper did more to his insides than it should have. So did the way she gathered up several pots of flowers and set them outside the door.

“Why are you here?” he asked as she propped the door open.

“Because of your letter,” she said.

“Which one?”

She frowned slightly. “The one asking for a divorce.”

“Which one?” he repeated.

Her frown deepened.

“I’ve sent you five sets of divorce papers.”

“You have?” Shaking her head, she said, “I—I, um, I only saw this last set. The ones that arrived last month.”

“How can that be?” he asked. “I know they were delivered.” After hearing no response to his first requests he’d insisted upon and received confirmation that the papers had been delivered to the house.

He saw how wide her eyes grew before she turned and headed into his office. “M-my sister, M-Millie, always accepts the correspondence that arrives at the house.”

Following, watching her pull dried bundles of flowers from the rope stretched from corner to corner, he sneezed before asking, “And she withholds mail from you?”

“No...” Millie was searching for an explanation. She’d wondered if that had been the first time Seth had sent papers, yet had believed Rosemary when she’d assured her it was. The fact that Papa had promised a divorce was a surprise. He’d never mentioned that, but she had to believe Rosemary knew about it.

The way Seth sneezed several more times had guilt and concern rippling through her.

“Then why didn’t you get my other requests?” he asked, somewhat winded.

“There was a lot of mail after Papa died.” Millie continued to pull down the flowers. It had been fun, irritating him, but his puffy, bloodshot eyes said this had gone far enough. “Anything to do with the army, anything official looking, was forwarded on. I must assume that’s what happened to your previous letters.”

He gave a nod that didn’t really say if he believed her or not. She, on the other hand, had no doubt that Rosemary had received every set. Squeezing past him, flinching at another of his sneezing bouts, she carried the flowers she’d gathered out the front door.

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