[2016] The Precious Amish Baby

by Faith Crawford

  He felt exhausted and he let himself slide down again. His joints ached but he knew the inactivity of the last days was to blame. He looked down at his hands and noticed a slight rash on his hands. It did not bother him much. Sleeping in tents meant that all kinds of bugs crawled all over your skin at night and there was nothing to do but to bear it.

  The light hit the roof of the cave and a yellow glint caught Ray’s eyes. He gasped. The roof of the cave was made of gold. His fingers trembled and his brain could not form coherent thoughts. When he finally recovered from the shock, he sat still and made plans.

  If he so much as gave a sign that he had found gold, all the diggers would scramble for it and there would be utter chaos. Calmly, Ray left the cave, covering the entrance some more by stretching the growing plants over the space. Then he returned to his tent and carefully selected the tools he would need. Then he left the tent, headed for the warden’s office and paid for another claim.

  He was so preoccupied with affecting a calm and unrushed manner that he failed to hear the news of the illness that was affecting miners. He returned to the tent, spoke to the miners from Fairview and told them that he would be away for a few days, trying his luck further up the hills.

  Ray carried with him several candles as well as tins of beans and bread to last several weeks. He knew he would find water in the creeks and streams that snaked their way down the mountain. In the cave, Ray worked day and night, using a pickaxe to break the stone. He only stopped to sleep and to replenish a melted-down candle.

  He clawed at the veins of gold and then, when they loosened, tugged them away. Ray tore the gold from the roof and kept his mind on the task. He refused to give thought to what his find meant, knowing if he did the momentous excitement of it all would sap him of the energy he needed to extract it.

  Somewhere beyond the cave, Ray heard the rain begin again. Sometimes wind made its way inside the cave, but it was not enough to interfere with his work. Once, the ground seemed to vibrate, causing the whole cave to shake.

  His hands bled and his fingers were bruised but he never stopped working. Ray even forgot to eat and only gave mind to food when the pain in his belly became unbearable.

  Ray worked for two weeks. He spent the last week separating the gold from the gray stone. The gold had been on only one side of the roof, but from what Ray could see, its worth was enough to change his life.

  On the last day, Ray glanced around the cave one last time. His eyes did not take much notice of the food he had brought with him, which stood uneaten in a corner. His gold was safely packed away in hidden pockets of his canvas bag and, as he made his way out, he felt a wave of dizziness so strong that he had to hold onto the walls for support.

  He felt terribly weak and his muscles ached. He forced himself to walk, taking small steps as he navigated his way down the hill. The canvas bag felt heavy on his back and he could barely see ahead. Ray attributed it to the exhaustion of the last two weeks.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Isabella paced around most of the night. She knew something was terribly wrong. Ray had promised to be back in four weeks and now seven weeks had gone by and no word. Just yesterday, a group of diggers who had been to Southwest Rocks had returned to town. Isabella had managed to take one of them to the side and what he had told her had left her blood cold.

  “They’re in a bad way, ma’am. Scurvy it is, and most can’t make the journey back home. They lie in their tents with high fevers, waiting it out.”

  Isabella did not ask the question on the tip of her tongue. Were there any casualties? Was her Ray amongst them? By the time she finally went to bed, Isabella had made her decision. She would go to Southwest Rocks to get Ray. She would go mad from the worry if she waited.

  When she told Martha and George her decision, they tried to dissuade her.

  “Ma’am, it’s too dangerous,” George told her. “It’s not a journey for a lady.”

  Isabella ignored his words. “I trust that you two will keep the restaurant going?”

  “You know we will,” Martha said, with a sigh. “You know, as foolhardy as I think it is, I don’t blame you. Mr. Ray is a wonderful man.”

  Tears filled Isabella’s eyes. She could not lose him just when she had found him. She wanted many more years with him. They still had so much to do, so many plans. Isabella violently wiped the tears from her eyes. This was not the time to be sentimental.

  “Ma’am,” George said. “My brother Alfred is a salesman and used to traveling long distances. Why don’t I ask him to go with you?”

  “Yes!” Isabella cried out. “I would pay him for every day that we’re away.”

  “Let me ask him first. He might refuse to, seen as these two weeks are his rest days,” George said.

  Isabella waited for George’s return and her mind was only half there as she took in the orders for breakfast. Somehow, her fear of interacting with customers had ebbed away and, while she was never as effusively friendly as George and Ray, she managed to serve without it being an ordeal. George returned half an hour later with the news that Alfred had agreed to accompany Isabella.

  “Can we go right away?” Isabella asked George.

  “No, ma’am, he says tomorrow morning,” George said, and then gave Isabella a list of supplies that Alfred had written down for her.

  ***

  One could have mistaken Alfred and George for twins, but while George seemed uncomfortable in his own skin, confidence oozed out of Alfred. Isabella supposed it was right, him being a salesman and earning his living from convincing people that they needed his goods.

  She glanced at him now as he held on to the reins of the horses, his expression thoughtful. Before Isabella knew it, they had been joined by diggers. Some rode on wagons and others on horseback. All wore the distracted, dreamy look that Isabella had come to associate with diggers.

  Isabella just hoped that when she found Ray and brought him home, he would lose that look permanently.

  The men stared at Isabella in curiosity. She knew she was an oddity in a group of men that seemed to be growing larger the further they traveled.

  “Surely you don’t intend to go with the Missus all the way to Southwest Rocks? The minefields are no place for a lady,” one of them said to Alfred.

  Alfred smiled at him and said, “She’ll be alright. She’s tougher than she looks.”

  But the miners had not been so wrong. Isabella swayed on her seat at the front of the wagon. It was their first day on the road and she had never felt as tired as she did.

  The night was spent in the wagon and, to make it worse, snow had started to pour, albeit in tiny flakes, but Alfred had warned her it could get heavier.

  “Why don’t you go to the back and have a rest,” Alfred said gently, after shaking her awake.

  Isabella had never been so grateful to let her body sink into the empty sacks which were the beddings. They traveled for another three days before they reached Southwest Rocks. Isabella wanted to retch when she stepped out of the wagon. The entire air stank of human and animal waste, and the streets were like soups of mud.

  “We’ll ask around at the warden’s office,” Alfred suggested.

  Outside the warden’s office was a list of names of the men who had succumbed to their deaths from the illness.

  “Kindly check Ray’s name for me,” Isabella whispered to Alfred, beads of sweat forming above her upper lip.

  Isabella could not bear to look at Alfred. She did not want to witness the shock that would come to his face and then the sadness when he saw Ray’s name. She closed her eyes and kept her hands folded into fists. The silence stretched on.

  “His name’s not there!” Alfred finally announced.

  “Are you sure?” Isabella asked, her voice shaky.

  “Sure am. I went through it three times,” Alfred said, in a jubilant tone.

  Searching for Ray turned out to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. The hills were dotted with tents and men pannin
g for gold at every place there was water. Everywhere they went, Alfred asked for the diggers from Fairview. Finally, they met a man with tired eyes who looked them up and down before answering.

  “Some moved on and others were swept by the flood. They were camped too near the river.”

  Isabella cried out and her hand flew to her mouth.

  “Others caught the scurvy and never made it,” he continued in an emotionless tone.

  Alfred took her hand and they were about to turn away when the man spoke.

  “I hear, though, that there’s one man left lying in his tent. He’s ill and no one’s sure what ails him. Folk are frightened to go near him.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Flies buzzed around the lone tent. There did not seem to be any sign of life. No fire had been lit in a while and there were no horses tethered nearby, nor Ray’s wagon. Fear clutched Isabella’s heart, but she ignored it and ventured into the dark tent.

  The room stank and she fought the urge to cover her nose. Inside, the tent was pitch dark but, once she got used to the dim light, Isabella could see a form lying on the ground covered in a blanket. Beside him was a can of beans, opened but with most of its contents still inside.

  “Ray?” Isabella whispered.

  There was no answer other than movement from the figure. She could see his body rise up and down as he breathed. She inched closer and then stuck out her hand to pull the blanket back. She slowly inched it away from the top of his body.

  He was sleeping face down and his head came into view. She saw black hair and her hope rose a notch. She tugged at the blanket further and, when she recognized Ray’s brown-striped shirt, she sank to her knees.

  “Ray! Ray! It’s me, Isabella,” she cried out.

  He groaned in reply.

  “He’s in a bad way, ma’am,” Alfred said, standing over her, “we best get him to a doctor straight away.”

  Isabella waited with Ray, rinsing his face with some water she found in a bottle and speaking to him. Alfred returned ten minutes later with the wagon and together they carried Ray into the back. He was as light as a feather and bore no resemblance to the man she had waved off weeks earlier.

  Before leaving, Isabella hurried to the tent, gathered Ray’s tools and, with Alfred’s help, stashed them in the wagon. She only noticed the canvass bag in the corner as she was about to leave and was in two minds as to whether to take it. On a whim, she took it and sighed sharply. It was heavier than she had expected. She placed it at the back of the wagon and returned to Ray’s side.

  They stayed on in Southwest Rocks for another three days while the doctor saw to Ray. He explained to Isabella how scurvy was caused by lack of important nutrients and the best treatment was to feed Ray on oranges and limes. Isabella managed to buy some from other diggers and fed them to Ray faithfully. On the third day, Ray smiled at her but was still too weak to talk.

  On the fourth day, the doctor declared it safe enough for Ray to travel back home, provided they made the journey as smooth as possible. Isabella was only too happy to agree. She hated the town, with its many saloons and women in rouge and red lips standing outside buildings she had come to know were brothels.

  As they helped Ray into the back of the wagon, where Isabella had fashioned a comfortable feather mattress, he tugged at her hand. She looked down at him and his eyes were big and blinking rapidly. She could see he was agitated.

  Alfred was in the driver’s seat and the wagon started to move. Ray grabbed her hand harder.

  “What is it, my dear?” Isabella said, and lowered her face to his.

  “Bag,” he finally managed to croak.

  It took a moment for Isabella to discern that he was talking about his canvas bag.

  “Oh, your bag,” she said, and he blinked.

  “It’s here,” Isabella said, smiling fondly at how close Ray had come to losing his life, yet his mind was more focused on his possessions in the canvass bag.

  Throughout the journey, Isabella fed Ray with slices of oranges and gave him lemonade to drink. He gulped at the drink like a drowning man and, as they journeyed home, she saw the color in his skin improving. He slept a lot and only woke up to eat and to relieve himself, which he did with Alfred’s help.

  Isabella had never been so grateful to George for putting her in touch with his brother. Alfred had proved to be helpful in every way and, when Ray was better, she would ask him about giving Alfred a job. They got home in seven days. George came out to help support Ray into the house and, for the next week, Isabella never left the house.

  Martha brought up their meals from the restaurant, leaving them on the landing. Isabella heard her footsteps, but they never met or spoke. By the fifth day, Ray was talking, and he had lost that sickly, pale skin. A day later, Isabella was dozing while seated by the side of the bed, her head on the bed.

  “Sweetheart,” a voice called her.

  She sleepily popped her eyes open and, when she looked up, Ray was smiling at her. She immediately dissolved into tears. He pulled her in so that she lay on top of him on the bed. She felt Ray’s tears on the nape of her neck. They clung to each other for more than half an hour.

  “Thank you,” Ray said, his voice laden with emotion.

  Isabella could not reply for a few seconds.

  “I couldn’t bear to lose you, Ray,” she said.

  “I’m done, sweetheart. That was my last expedition,” he announced, his voice still a little weak.

  Isabella felt sad for him, knowing how important getting gold was to him. She vowed to make their little restaurant a success to give Ray the financial security he craved so badly.

  “Where did you put my bag, sweetheart?” he asked.

  Isabella kissed him on the forehead and slid off. She went to the wardrobe and pulled the filthy bag from underneath.

  “Open it,” he instructed, and she did.

  Isabella gasped when she saw the contents. She looked up at Ray in disbelief and he grinned at her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The winters in Montana were not as harsh as those she had known back in West Virginia, Isabella thought. She and Ray sat side by side on two wooden stools provided for by Mrs. Stewart, a thin woman with wispy hair that fell in weak curls around her face.

  She sat opposite them on a makeshift chair fashioned from a wooden box. In her arms, she held a three months old child, wrapped in layers of blankets.

  “I knew Gregory, and he was a fine man,” Ray said.

  Mrs. Stewart sniffed and held a handkerchief over her mouth. Her eyes were red-rimmed as if she had cried every day in the last month since the burial of her husband.

  “He had such big dreams for them,” she said in a soft voice, her glance falling on her two boys, who were playing on the cement floor.

  A sob escaped her and then, unable to contain her emotions, the tears came, gushing from her eyes, although her lips were tightly sealed. Isabella’s throat choked up with emotion. It could very easily have been her, mourning her Ray. Mrs. Gregory was blessed to have her children, Isabella thought.

  A wave of nausea hit her and she swallowed a ball of saliva. She hadn’t been herself in the last couple of days and she had attributed it to exhaustion from nursing Ray back to health.

  “Here, let me take him,” Isabella offered, stretching her hands to take the child.

  As soon as she held the still hairless little boy, Isabella felt another wave of emotion. Her whole being ached with the need to have Ray’s babies—a family of their own. As if in response, her stomach contracted slightly. The baby’s eyes were blue and he now focused them on Isabella’s face, his features screwed up as if he was searching his memory for where they might have met before. Isabella chuckled softly and touched his nose lightly with her finger.

  “Isabella?”

  Isabella turned to Ray and turned crimson when she realized that her attention had been completely taken by the baby.

  “That’s part of why we have come, Mrs. Stewart,”
Ray continued. “My wife and I, we would like to make life a little easier for you.”

  This time, she looked up, her expression puzzled. Isabella was glad of the decision she and Ray had made. The gold he had found made them richer than they could have ever dreamt off. They would never lack and neither would their children or great grandchildren. It was only right that they share their good tidings with the families of the diggers who had lost their lives.

  “You heard that I struck some luck in Southwest Rocks?” Ray said.

  Mrs. Stewart nodded. “I’m truly glad for both of you.”

  “I have made arrangements with the bank. I’ve put aside a sum of money so that you and the children never lack again.”

  “And they can go to school,” Isabella added.

  When Ray told her the amount, she swayed and gripped the edges of the box she was sitting on. Then, after a moment, more tears came.

  “I don’t know what to say. I have prayed every single day for the Lord to show me a way out of this poverty.”

  The money would not bring her husband back, Isabella thought, but it would go a long way in easing her financial worries.

  They made six other similar visits and, by the end of it, Isabella felt light, as though a huge burden had been lifted off her. She clutched Ray’s hand as they walked down the main street. Despite her euphoria, she felt a little weak and her nausea had not gone.

  “You’re a good man, Ray Barger,” she said.

  He grinned at her. “So are you.”

  “A good man?” Isabella teased.

  Ray laughed his loud laugh, which was so wonderful to hear. Isabella loved everything about Ray, especially his generous nature. She thought of her parents fleetingly. They would have been horrified by her choice of husband initially but, as they got to know Ray, they would have loved him as she did.

  He slowed down when they came to an intersection that divided the street. On one plot, a building stood, half-done and with no workers in sight, giving an air of abandonment.