What Frees the Heart

by Karen A. Wyle

  Jenny hurried to put on her apron. “Of course, Ma. We’ll take care of everything. Tom, why don’t you go wash up while we get supper on the table.”

  Tom grinned at her being so domestic, but he didn’t hold it for long. He must be worried about Mrs. Clara. She was kind of old for a first baby, after all. Good as Doc was at his trade, she was glad Tom’s ma knew about birthing and was going there too.

  Meanwhile, Jenny had supper to tend to.

  Ma didn’t come home until morning. By then, both menfolk were pacing around muttering to themselves, and Martha and Billy had been popping out of bed all night, creeping downstairs and asking, “Ain’t Ma back yet?” Jenny got what rest she could with her head and arms on the kitchen table, so she’d be right there if something came up as needed her to run over to Doc’s.

  When Ma came through the door, a few rain drops on her hat catching the first rays of sunshine, she looked fair wiped out, but even more happy. “A girl, and healthy. And Clara’s doing fine.” She chuckled. “Even Doc’s doing all right. He was brave and strong the whole time, until the baby came and all was well. Then he fell into a chair all of a tremble, and cussing under his breath. Mrs. Freida made him drink some brandy. It was a fair treat, listening to her tell him to drink it down.”

  Ma yawned. “I’ll just have a bite of breakfast and then lay down for a bit. Tom, Doc says you and Jenny can come see the baby this evening. I’ll likely come along with you, and bring some of my calf’s foot jelly. It’s wonderful strengthening, when a woman’s lost blood like you do.”

  Tom went a little pale at the thought, and Jenny decided to be nice and not tease him over it. She just went and put her arm around his waist, giving him a little squeeze. He’d do, when the time came. Though he might resort to drinking earlier‘n Doc had.

  Mrs. Freida opened the door, talking before she even saw them. “Such a day, a new baby, a new life! And Clara, so brave, not that she didn’t yell when she needed to, no point holding it in, she had more important things to think about. Come in, come in!”

  By that time they were in already, Doc coming to take their coats. He looked as happy as a tired man could, and as tired as a happy man could. Tom and Pa took turns shaking his hand. Meanwhile, Jenny and Ma looked around for Mrs. Clara and the baby.

  A lusty wail gave them the clue on where to go. Mrs. Freida led them to the room where Mrs. Clara was in bed, propped up with pillows and holding the squirming, red-faced baby. Mrs. Freida shooed them in, saying, “You go, look all you want, I’ll have plenty of chances, I’ll go see to the menfolk.” She bustled away, leaving the doorway open for Ma and Jenny to file on in.

  Mrs. Clara looked up from the baby and gave them a quick smile before looking down again, mainly taken up with putting the baby to her breast. “There, now,” she murmured, “that wasn’t so hard, was it? We’ve got this almost figured out. That’s right, just like that, you bring your mama’s milk in, then it’ll be easier all round.”

  It’d been a long time since Jenny saw a newborn babe. She’d forgot how little and wrinkly they were. Mothers were supposed to think their babes were beautiful, but from the look on Mrs. Clara’s face, fond and amused both, she saw plainer’n most.

  Now the baby was sucking instead of screaming, Mrs. Clara lay back carefully so’s not to unsettle her and gave the visitors a weary smile. “Welcome, and thanks for coming. After this major an achievement, I’m eager to show off the result.” She looked at Ma and went teary-eyed. “And Mrs. Barlow, thank you so much for all you did for us last night. I’m more grateful than I can say — at least until I get some sleep and my mind is clearer.”

  Ma came close and looked down at the baby, her own eyes moist. “You’re most welcome, and I’m glad I could be here. Isn’t she an angel!”

  Mrs. Clara’s mouth twitched like she’d have laughed if she had the strength to. “It’s rather early to say. But if she turns out at all angelic, she’ll have her father to thank for it.” She looked over at Jenny, who was hanging farther back. “It’s all right, Jenny. Come close and look your fill.”

  But looking wasn’t all Jenny found she was wanting.

  When the baby’s sucking slowed and then stopped, the little mouth falling half open with a bubble of milk on the lips, Ma and Mrs. Clara hushed at the same moment. Mrs. Clara freed a hand and crooked her finger at Jenny, whispering, “Would you like to hold her? If we just wait a minute or so, she’ll be deep enough asleep that she’s unlikely to wake.”

  Jenny crept up to the side of the bed and sat down as cautious as ever she had, then scooted closer. Clara slowly shifted the baby over into Jenny’s waiting arms and settled her there.

  And there Jenny was, holding a baby for the first time since she was a woman grown.

  She heard Doc’s voice, real low, from the doorway. “Now that’s a real pretty sight to see, and I wish Tom had come with me to see it.” He came up to the bed and kissed Mrs. Clara on the forehead. “Tom and Mr. Barlow would like to see the baby, if it’s not a bad time.”

  Jenny bit her lip, then let it go quick before Doc could see, finding a smile for him instead. “It’s high time for her pa to take her, don’t you think? I’d hand her to you, but I’m that scared of waking her.”

  Doc laughed real quiet. “No more than I am. But boldly into the breach!” He squatted down ‘til his arms were level with Jenny’s and lifted the baby out like she weighed no more’n a dumpling. Bringing the baby up to his face, he gave her a kiss on the forehead, much like he’d done for Mrs. Clara, and made his careful way out of the room.

  Mrs. Clara sank back against her pillows, her eyes closed. Ma patted her hand and said, “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow morning. You get your rest, now.”

  Mrs. Clara said nothing. It looked to Jenny like she was already getting that rest Ma had ordered. They went back to where Doc was showing the baby to Tom and his pa. Jenny went up to Tom and snuggled into him. He turned to smile at her, which gave her the chance to say, “I held the baby! And it went fine.”

  Tom gave her a quick kiss and said, “Of course it did.”

  Ma headed to where Mrs. Freida had put their coats. “We’ve stayed long enough, I reckon. Like I told Clara, I’ll be back in the morning. You all take care, now.”

  She was just handing Jenny her coat when there came a commotion from outside. The door flung open, and there stood Mr. Jed, blowing on his hands to warm ‘em and smiling all over his face. “Well, here’s a merry crowd and no mistake! The more the merrier, to make our guest welcome. Tom, Jenny, come and meet him. I’ve brought you a preacher.”

  Once everybody had brought everybody up to date, and Mr. Jed had made introductions all round, and then took the waked-up and crying baby from Doc’s arms and bounced her ‘til she stopped, the preacher followed Ma and Pa and Tom and Jenny out the door. Tom shook the preacher’s hand for the third time and asked, “Sir, how long are you able to stay? We didn’t figure on all this happening when you showed up. And we owe Doc a powerful lot. We’d like him at the wedding if he can get free while you’re still in town.”

  The preacher, a skinny fellow well along in years, gave them a big smile. “Young man, this is the first trip out of town I’ve had in too long. I’m in no great hurry to be home again. Do you think three days from now will be soon enough?”

  Ma had come up to listen, and said, “So long as Clara and the baby stay well, I expect so. But we need to talk about the ceremony.”

  Jenny’d forgotten to think about where it could be. Not in the church, that was sure and certain! It could be at Tom’s house, and that’s maybe what everyone was expecting. But an idea come to her, strange maybe, but lodging in her head and taking hold. She looked around at them all and said, “Excuse me if I’m interrupting. And I’m not going to be making any trouble about where, nor when neither. But I’m wondering, given all that’s happened and how we come to this point, whether we might do something kind of different.”

  * * * * *

 
; They had, as planned, bought two horses. Tom hadn’t had to use every bit of his savings after all. Mr. Jed and Mrs. Freida, and Doc, and Madam Mamie, and even Finch had chipped in to help. So he and Jenny would have something to live on for at least the first part of their journey.

  They’d been keeping the new horses separate in a stall apiece, but now Tom grabbed a couple of carrots from where they stored them, and Pa fetched the mare and led her to the pasture where Cochise was grazing. He turned her loose, watching close. “That gelding’ll do fine here biding with us, pulling the plow and the wagon. Let’s see how the mare gets on with your old friend.”

  The mare and Cochise got busy smelling each other. The mare put her ears back and swished her tail; Cochise backed away a couple of steps and lowered his head. Pa chuckled. “Looks like that mare is showing Cochise who’s boss. Don’t let her give Jenny any ideas, now!”

  Some other time, Tom might’ve bristled at the joke, but he had other things to think about. He whistled to Cochise, who left the mare to come trotting up, though she followed after. Given how Cochise and the mare had started out, he figured he’d better give her the first carrot, which she snapped up like he’d kept her waiting for it. Tom stroked Cochise’s mane and fed him the second carrot, saying, “Looks like we get to go adventuring together, after all, don’t we, boy? We won’t be herding cattle nor riding ranges, but we’ll see plenty of cowboys. You ready?”

  Cochise blew a warm breath in Tom’s face and nuzzled his shoulder. It was a good enough answer. Tom faced Pa, almost too choked up to talk, and said as best he could, “Thankee, sir. For letting me have Cochise and taking on the new one instead.”

  Pa clapped him on the back. “I’m happy to make the trade.” He added with a chuckle, “And I’ll feel better somehow, knowing that when you’re out who knows where, you’ve got Cochise there to keep an eye on you. Now let’s get back inside and get dressed up proper. We’ve a wedding to go to.”

  As if Tom didn’t know. But what with the horses, he’d almost managed to forget for a minute, and breathe normal. Now the air turned back to treacle. Fighting through it, he followed Pa into the house.

  He wasn’t to see Jenny before the wedding, which had meant plenty of awkward maneuvering and being sent out of rooms and down halls. But by now, Jenny and Ma and Martha were on their way to town in Doc’s buggy. As soon as Pa and Tom got into their best Sunday duds, Pa helping Tom with his collar when his fingers wouldn’t work right, they set out in the wagon to catch up, the new gelding getting them there in good time. It only seemed like it took hours. Except when they arrived, and it felt like it had took only seconds.

  They pulled up outside the cemetery where the preacher was waiting, his lips moving like he was practicing. Ma and Martha and Doc and Mr. Jed, and Madam Mamie and ‘most all her girls, were standing in a clump in front of him, but all Tom could see was the little figure with the pretty red hair, bundled up in a fine long coat, gazing back at him.

  He strode up to her as fast as he could walk without tripping. She held her hand out, to grab his as soon as she could reach, and pulled him close, whispering, “Mrs. Freida wanted to lend me her coat. I’d have looked like a bear! but Mamie gave me hers. She said I can keep it! And I’ve got the prettiest dress under it. Sorry you can’t see it until we get back to your place for the wedding breakfast.”

  She was talking almost too quick for him to understand her, and shivering along with it. At least they were both scared silly. He looked in her eyes, trying to see if scared or no, she was as sure as he was — about getting married, about him, about all they’d planned.

  Her eyes shone back at him like the Christmas star.

  The preacher cleared his throat and pulled out his book. “Dearly beloved, we are standing here by the grave of our departed sister Amanda Jane, who we know is with us in spirit. We are here this day to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony . . . .”

  The words seemed to fade in and out, but Tom managed to follow well enough to hear when the preacher said, “And now, do you, Thomas Barlow, take this woman, Jennifer Hayes, to be your lawful wedded wife . . . .”

  Tom blurted out, “I do!” before the preacher had quite finished saying, “so help you God.” A laugh made its way around the crowd, but Tom couldn’t have cared less, not with Jenny gripping his hands tight and smiling up at him. And then it was her turn, and she said, “I do!” at just the right time, looking at him like she maybe, finally, could believe what was happening.

  And then it was back to the house, all who chose to come — which turned out not to be Mamie and her girls. He shook hands with them, every one, and stood aside while Jenny collected one last round of hugs, Mamie’s last and longest. Pa took Ma and Martha in the wagon this time, so Tom could take his bride home in style, as Doc put it, in the buggy, Mr. Jed’s wagon with Freida following after.

  Jenny’s dress was every bit as pretty as she’d said, a peach sort of color with crystals all over and lace at the breast. But he didn’t have all that long to see her in it, not if they were going to be ready to leave as soon as the wedding breakfast was over. They both went upstairs to change after Mr. Jed gave his toast, and were back down in good time to hear Pa’s.

  Guests started to say their goodbyes, wishing Tom well and congratulating him on their way out, bowing to Jenny and wishing her every happiness. Tom fetched the sample saddle and put it on Cochise, for passersby to see and, he hoped, wonder at. Maybe he’d make one for the new mare, in time, or maybe he’d let Cochise be the only one with such finery.

  They’d already loaded the quilts, and Tom’s tools, and such clothes and other odds and ends as they were taking. Everything was stowed and ready. Pa was already getting the horses harnessed. Doc walked out with them, making sure Tom knew everything to do for his stump and to keep his leg in working order.

  Ma ran out to give Tom a final hug, and he held her tight, feeling her shake and knowing she’d cry the minute he was gone. Martha was already sniffling behind her, while Billy was looking on with envy writ all over him. He’d be a handful for a while. But Ma and Pa were up to handling him.

  Pa gave Tom a big, man-sized hug, and helped Jenny into the wagon while Tom pulled himself together. They’d managed to fit in a bench after all, almost like the one in Mr. Jed’s wagon, and Jenny would ride there later, maybe, but for now she’d be sitting up with Tom. He was going to show her how to drive.

  Tom took one more long look around, at his family, at Mrs. Freida calling out some stream of wishes he couldn’t rightly hear, at Mr. Jed in his smart coat and hat looking mighty satisfied, and finally at Doc, looking up at him with no trouble on his face, like he knew Tom was ready for whatever lay ahead.

  He shook the reins and chucked at the horses, and off they went to meet it.

  THE END

  Dedication

  To my daughters

  And the creative paths they follow.

  Author’s Note

  Writing a novel, especially any kind of historical fiction, involves innumerable decisions. I’m highlighting a few of those here, in no particular order. If you’re curious about what considerations led to any other detail, please see the “Connect with the Author” section, following, and ask me!

  Given Jenny’s level of literacy and her concerns about spelling, it would have been more accurate for her letters to include some spelling mistakes. I gave that a try, but I found the result distracting enough that I thought it would pull some readers out of the story. I ended up hoping the lurking inconsistency would be less disruptive than the misspellings would have been. I was also far from certain I could figure out, or find sources to instruct me, what errors Jenny would be likely to make.

  I used customs and labor statistics from the late 1860s and 1870s (see Acknowledgments) to establish that commercial hair dyes were available during this period. I posited, for my purposes, that such dyes included the color red, and that they could be ordered in some manner from Nebraska.

 
I based Jenny’s idea for helping Tom’s phantom itch on the much later development of the mirror box, invented by Vilayanur S. Ramachandran in the 1990s. Jenny’s a smart woman, and I thought she might just come up with the idea on her own.

  Tom, as a boy much interested in the doings of Indians, named the horse Cochise after the principal chief of the Chiricahua Apache. Cochise led an uprising against the U.S. government from 1861 until 1872, and Tom would have heard news of him.

  I considered having both Tom and Jenny regularly drop their gs at the end of gerunds like “talking” and “standing,” in dialogue and/or in internal monologues. However, such words appeared quite often, and as a reader, I find frequent dialect references distracting. I decided, as I often do, to write what I’d prefer to read, with just a few uses of missing gs and constructions such as ‘em (for them) to give the flavor of the characters’ speech.

  When in doubt, I try to confirm that words and phrases I use were current at the time, using the resources mentioned in the Acknowledgments (immediately following). Sometimes I proceed with something less than solid reassurance. For example, the first recorded use of the phrase “soft in the head” may have been in 1775. I chose to assume it was current before it was “recorded.” I also found few uses of either “leatherworker” or “leather worker,” but the latter appeared earlier, and I chose to use it.

  Joshua’s brief mention of increased difficulty obtaining “French letters” is a reference to the 1873 Comstock Act, which (among other things) prohibited manufacturing, selling, giving away, mailing, or possessing for distribution any item to be used for contraception. Aside from the provisions affecting use of the U.S. mail, these restrictions applied anywhere in the District of Columbia, U.S. territories, and anywhere the federal government had “exclusive jurisdiction.” Exactly what if any effect this federal statute had within a U.S. state, unless and until that state passed its own similar law, is a legal question at which I’ve only taken a quick glance. Simple possession of contraceptives wasn’t criminalized in that statute, so I’m assuming for purposes of this book that Joshua has quite a stockpile of French letters, and also that either his giving some to Tom wasn’t a crime within Nebraska, or that Joshua doesn’t care enough about any potential legal jeopardy to leave Tom unprotected.