The Widow's Gambit

Josh worked quickly. Before long, he had cremated Caleb's body and returned with a small urn of ashes.

Back at the house, the funeral was set up. Neighbors, having heard the news, filtered in to help—their eyes lingering on the memorial photo and that little ceramic pot, their sighs heavy with pity.

I didn't have to act much. Haunted by the memories of my last life, my face was naturally pale, my eyes hollow. I looked every bit the shattered widow.

Josh, meanwhile, held Catherine in his arms as he said to me, "Catherine just found out she's pregnant. Staying here might harm her health. She doesn't need to keep vigil."

He settled her gently into a seat, all tenderness and care.

I ignored their display of affection, but Catherine turned to me and spoke anyway.

"Riley, now that you're… alone… if you need a man's help around here, you can't expect Josh to do it for free, right?"

Her eyes glittered with naked greed.

Josh chimed in, "Riley, you still have those gold pieces from your mother, don't you? The bracelets and earrings. You should give them to Catherine. You're a widow with a child now—when would you ever wear fancy jewelry?"

I lifted my head sharply, staring at him with icy disbelief.

Those were my mother's life savings—the only keepsakes she left me before she passed.

How dare he?

Yet Josh showed not a trace of guilt. He pressed his demands as if they were perfectly reasonable.

"You don't wear jewelry while doing housework and farm chores anyway. Giving them to Catherine puts them to good use. And Josh mentioned some money he left in the house for me to handle. You should hand that over, too."

I let a silence hang, then covered my face with my hands. My shoulders shook. "There… there is no money," I sobbed, the picture of broken despair. "Josh spent it all. Even my mom's jewelry and money is gone. There's nothing left."

"That's impossible!" Josh snapped, losing his composure. "He told me there was some money!"

I lowered my hands, my voice trembling but clear. "Then he lied to you. Probably too ashamed to admit he had nothing."

I looked around at the gathered neighbors, pouring every ounce of helplessness into my words. "Caleb, your brother is gone. You're the only man left in the family. Instead of helping us, you're trying to squeeze money from his widow? Are you trying to drive my daughter and me to our graves?"

Of course, none of it was true, but Josh had no way to refute it.

The villagers around us looked at me with sympathy and urged him to help his widowed sister-in-law.

His expression darkened. "My brother wasn't a liar."

A cold laugh escaped me. I stood up, walked to the corner, and dragged out a worn duffel bag—all of Josh's belongings.

"This is all the worthless things he left," I announced. "Let me burn it for you, so you can stop dreaming about money that never existed."

One by one, I tossed in his military manuals, letters, and then his clothes into the fire. The flames caught and climbed.

Josh instinctively stepped forward to stop me, but hesitated—his face turning pitch-black—as he forced himself to stay still.

Finally, I picked up the gifts he'd given me over the years and tossed them into the heart of the fire.

"Riley!" he burst out, a strangled sound. "Those were from Josh! How could you?"

My voice trembled. "He's gone. What use are objects from a dead man? And you—hounding me for money the very day he's buried! Where would he have gotten that kind of money? Tell me!"

I spoke with such grief and tears that even the neighbors were moved.

Josh's face turned ashen, but he could do nothing except watch as I burned everything.

Later, in the back room, my little girl, Natalie, tugged on my sleeve. Her wide, confused eyes looked up at me. "Mama… that's Daddy. Why is everyone saying he's Uncle Caleb?"