did not care. She only hoped it wouldn’t happen again. If he wished to lay with her, she wanted to know in advance so she could relax her mind and body and prepare to do her wifely duty. She wanted to tell the Reverend this, but she did not have the gumption. That was not a wife’s place to say such things, and she did not want to incur a tirade on “submissive obligation” from him. Additionally, she was also worried whether or not the coupling would produce a second child. In her deepest fears, she saw herself having twins, since her husband had spilled his seed into her twice. She did not know how twins came about, but she thought that might be one way.
By the time they had moved out to Tyburn, Kansas, Katherine was certain that no child was going to come. She was not feeling the sickness, nor was she becoming bloated or hungry for odd foods.
She muttered a silent prayer for this relief.
5.
The minister in Tyburn, Kansas had recently committed suicide and the townspeople were in need of a new man to bring the good word. They readily accepted Reverend Payne, despite the curious rumors they heard from Boston. Payne had purchased one hundred acres of land just outside the city limits, and any man of God who could afford such a parcel was all right by the good people of Tyburn.
The land was purchased from money left by Katherine’s father. Reverend Payne secured the sale with the landowner while in Boston, appalled at the price of one thousand dollars—even more appalled when he learned there was ten thousand more dollars in the bank that Katherine’s father had left. But money was not a matter the Reverend wished to maintain or acquire. The money would be a good security, transferred from the trust in Boston to the local bank in Tyburn; and perhaps a nest egg for his heir, or heirs, should that day come.
Katherine Payne did not like the spacious land their home was on, or the animals that her husband quickly purchased. Chickens and horses and cows, and then a pig! She was a woman of the city, thrust onto this make-shift farm. She loathed the rooster that crowed in the morning—never at dawn but long after, and far into noon as well. Her husband seemed to enjoy this new life, spending time outdoors when he was not at the church, his skin going from white to red to tan. She didn’t think she would adjust to this (the library in Tyburn was very small and most of the books she had already read, so she had to make special orders through the slow U.S. Mails). This was her lot, this is what she had chosen for a life (even if her father had chosen it for her). She conceded, however, that small town life might be good for Evangeline to grow up in, rather than a crowded, bustling city.
Evangeline was growing fast, now in her first year. She was crawling about, feeding from a bottle, and curious about the world around her. The blonde hair on her head was already curly and golden. Katherine knew her child would grow up to be a beautiful woman. But you will marry whom you choose to marry, Katherine silently vowed, someone you truly love and care for....
Katherine could not say she loved her husband, nor did the Reverend ever express such a feeling toward her. She had respect for him, in a peculiar way. She prepared his meals since she did not have servants as she had in Boston; she cared for him; but he would never love him, this she knew.
On the third month of their life on the outskirts of Tyburn, Kansas, Katherine Payne went out to the barn and saw a mysterious gentleman....
6.
The reader should be aware that he was not actually a man but The Devil himself. Oh yes, it just so happened that The Devil was weary and agitated with Jedediah Payne—the Reverend had been saying bad things about The Devil for many years and while The Devil had pretty much ignored it, it was time for The Devil to pay the Reverend back. “What bad thing shall I do to that self-righteous, pious man?” mused The Devil to his minions. The Devil had tried to reach Payne in his dreams, but even there this man of God was able to fight back....
“Rape his wife!” said the minions.
“Good idea,” said The Devil, and snapped his fingers.
“Make her pregnant!” cried the minions with glee.
“An even better idea,” said The Devil, and whistled a merry little tune.
Now, The Devil, as the old stories always tell, can take human form. So this is exactly what The Devil did—he became a man, wandered onto Payne’s land like he owned it and made his jovial way inside the barn. He would feign being wounded because women always had a soft spot for the injured. He took the form of an Indian because he knew Katherine Payne felt horrible for what the United States military had been doing to the Indians all these years.
7.
Katherine Payne went into the barn later that day. She let out a small cry, seeing the soiled, wounded Indian on the ground. The Indian appeared as terrified as she. She stepped back, touching her chest: heart pounding. The Reverend was in town, she was all alone here, and there were no guns in the house. She had heard a great deal of stories about these savages. He merely stared at her with solemn, darkened eyes. She saw that he was bleeding from the side; there was a lot of dried, coagulated blood, it looked like he’d been shot. The Indian did not get up; he lay back down, watching her. He appeared sad. Katherine felt somewhat at ease, which struck her as odd. “How did you get here?” she asked. The Indian did not respond. “You probably do not understand me,” she said. “How did you come to be injured?” The Indian merely gazed at her, then closed his eyes. She feared he’d died, but he opened his eyes again. There was a glow about him, a light that made him innocent to her. He was anything but threatening. He needed help. Katherine Payne could not turn him away. “I shall return,” she said.
8.
The Devil smiled to himself because things were working as planned.
The woman returned as promised, with water and cloth. He tried to move away from her as she slowly approached, then decided it did not matter. He didn’t have to play the wounded creature too much, she was his. She bent down, putting the cloth in water, then proceeded to clean his wounds. He was intrigued by this woman; why did such a lovely piece of female flesh marry Reverend Payne? She smelled—like a warm day in the sun, and pretty like flowers. He marveled at the smoothness of her skin, how pink it was, and her golden hair. The Devil loathed all these things.
9.
Katherine was gratified the Indian wasn’t being difficult, and allowed her to clean his wounds and wrap bandages around him. The white bandage soon spotted with red. She did not know how to remove bullets, if it was a bullet wound this poor man was suffering from. And what was she going to tell Jedediah when he came home? She helped the Indian up, led him to the hay by the horses, and told him to lie there. He did as instructed, watching her carefully. What had this unfortunate soul gone through? Savage or not, he was one of God’s creations who needed help—and certainly her husband, a man of God, would agree.
She returned to the house, checking on Evangeline. Her daughter was asleep. Was she being foolish? That Indian could come in here, kill both her and the child. No—now that thinking was foolish. She knew not all Indians were maniac killers, no matter what the papers and the penny dreadfuls said; many of those people were peaceful. This Indian seemed like the latter.
She took some food out to him: dried meats and fruits. The Indian acted as if he didn’t know whether to take it or not. Finally, his hand went out to the food, and he began to eat ravenously. Katherine smiled.
She was doing the right thing—a good thing.
She let him be, checking an hour later to see if he had gone. He was asleep.
She didn’t know how she would tell Jedediah
