The Desert Moon Mystery by Kay Cleaver Strahan

The next thing that I knew I was lying on my back listening to someone screaming, above the voices of Sam and Mrs. Ricker. I realized that those awful sounds were coming from my own throat. I tried to stop them; but I could not. I put my hands to my throat to make it stop the noise. Sam's voice came, clear and strong then-real, like a light in the dark.

I sat straight up. The screams ceased. "What," I managed, "is the matter?"

"Everything on God's earth, that could be," Sam answered. "But here, Mary. Drink this. Get some sleep. Nothing to be done, now. We'll need you, to-morrow. Some water, Mrs. Ricker -- "

He shook a powder into my mouth. Mrs. Ricker held a glass of water to my lips.

When I opened my eyes again, it was gray dawn. I saw that I was in Mrs. Ricker's room. She was sitting by the window tatting. Yes, tatting; darting the shuttle back and forth, back and forth, with her long, white fingers. I watched her for a full minute before memory seized me, and I cried out with the pain of it.

"Sh-h-h," she warned me, in a whisper. "You'll wake Martha. She is asleep here on the couch."

I got out of bed, shook my skirts down and fastened my corsets under my dress. I felt in my pocket. The ball of handkerchief was still there. I went into the hall bathroom, washed my face and hands, and drained the last crumb of tobacco down with the water out of the wash-bowl. I washed the handkerchief, scoured the bowl, and went back to Mrs. Ricker's room.

As I opened the door, she again warned me against waking Martha.

"Was the shock too much for her? " I asked, going and standing beside Mrs. Ricker so that we might talk in whispers. She stopped to pick a knot out of her thread before she answered me.

"I didn't allow her to go upstairs. She followed Chad out of the house and saw him shoot himself. He died within ten minutes. It was terrible for Martha. I had to hold her, while Sam gave her the narcotic -- "

"No, no," I protested. "What-what are you saying? Not Chad? What was it you said about Chad -- "

"He walked out and shot himself, through the head. " She pulled the thread looser on her shuttle.

I rushed out of the room, away from her. I staggered down the stairs into the kitchen.

Sam, Hubert Hand, and John all jumped up from their chairs and started toward me. John reached me first, and put an arm around me.

"Chad -- " I began, but I couldn't get any further.

"There, there, Mary. Pour her some coffee, dad. Quick! Here, sit here. Turn on that fan, Hand. Get some water -- "

"No, no. Tell me. Mrs. Ricker said -- It isn't true. It-it can't be true. Not our Chad -- "

Sam answered, gruffly, to keep the choke out of his voice. "It is a damn shame, Mary; but, it is true. The boy shot himself, not fifteen minutes after we found her. Wait," he went on quickly, "before you think _anything_. I want to tell you what I have told the others. It is God's truth. That poor boy is as innocent of any connection with the murder as I am."

"Sam! " I managed, and hid my ugly, twisted old face down in my arms.

I will say that the men did pretty well, just sitting quiet, and leaving me alone, and letting me have my cry out. It seemed to me I never was going to be able to stop; but they didn't bother me with comforting, they let me get clear through to the sniffling and swallowing stage. I was the first one to speak.