by Caryl McAdoo
What was wrong with everyone?
She was family.
Someone should have fetched her way before now. Well, none of that mattered right this minute. She had plenty of milk, and baby boy wouldn’t be hungry much longer. “What’s his name?”
“Hasn’t got one yet. Lanelle can’t seem to think of anything but her husband. Blames herself, says it’s all her fault.”
“Well, my goodness, why in the world would she do that? Did she have something to do with the fuse?”
“No. Wasn’t even with us.” He glanced over, shook his head and rode the rest of the way in silence.
Once there, he helped her down, opened Miss Ling’s front door, then excused himself. The old midwife split the bead curtain separating her front room from the rest of her house.
“Ah, Mary, good girl. You here now. Feed this baby boy.”
Jethro closed the stall’s door, pitched some hay in then hurried out. Elijah hadn’t lied. The stunning Mary Wheeler was about the prettiest young lady he’d ever laid eyes on. She radiated a wholesomeness that multiplied her beauty. No wonder men and boys alike were smitten.
From what he’d heard, she received better than a marriage proposal a week.
How in Moses’ God’s name had Caleb Wheeler motivated the young lady to walk the aisle? Didn’t she have a father or mother? Anyone who could see through the scoundrel’s sweet-talking lies?
He slipped in Miss Ling’s side door and walked to Moses’ room. The incense the old woman burned couldn’t hide the smell of death that hung heavy. It almost knocked him back after being free from it and breathing fresh air.
If only there was something he could do.
Oh, Moses, dear friend.
Lanelle slept in the chair on the far side of his bed. Should be him lying there, but then if it had been, he’d probably be dead, and what? Roasting in hell’s fire according to the big man. A shiver started at his neck and raced down his spine.
Could there be such a place as hell? Or a heaven? Moses was convinced of it, but that didn’t make it so. To hear his old man tell it, religion was for the weak minded, but.…
Lanelle raised her gaze. “Jethro.”
“I brought Mary. She’s here to feed the baby.”
“Oh.” She looked past him then back. “Where exactly?”
“I’m not sure, I came in the side –”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “Please, don’t let her see his feet.”
What an odd thing to say. He nodded, but had no clue what she might mean by all that. Had Lanelle lost her senses?
“I got a sip of water down him last night.”
He smiled; she must not remember he’d been there helping her, or that Moses choked on it. What was he going to do? Darkness pressed his heart, but he had nowhere to turn. “Ready for some coffee? Or something to eat?”
“No, go on if you want some. I’ll be right here.” She stood over Moses and mopped his brow with a damp cloth. “Tell Mary I’m grateful, please.”
“Of course.”
He slipped back out. Miss Ling didn’t drink anything, but that horrible tea. He snuck off down the street and bought a bag of sweet cakes and a big jug of coffee. Idiot man charged him double, but what good was his gold anyway without Moses?
It all meant nothing if his partner wasn’t around to share it.
Maybe Lanelle might eat a cake. He looked in on her first, but she still didn’t want anything. After watching the big man struggle for a few labored breaths, he went looking for Mary. Found her and the baby in the parlor.
Poor tiny guy slept in her arms all wrapped in a soft blanket. Why did women truss up their little ones so like a cocoon? He’d hate it, but then he didn’t know anything about children or their care.
“I got coffee and sweet cakes and –”
“Oh, bless you. I’d love some of it all. I take my coffee with cream, but black’s fine if there isn’t any. ”
Shortly he returned with one of Miss Ling’s little tea cups full of milky coffee and a plate loaded with the sweets. She held the baby out, and he didn’t know what to do but accept the little booger.
Such a tiny face. He blew out soft contented puffs, finally got his little belly full. He rested the precious new life against his chest. She sipped the coffee and nibbled on a muffin.
“Thank you so much. Nursing, I get so thirsty and hungry.”
He smiled, the door popped opened, and the devil herself walked in.
“Jet, I was just now thinking –” Meiko stopped midsentence and stared.
Her gaze left him, moved to the baby at his chest, then to Mary. Her eyes spit daggers. She turned back to him, opened her mouth, but didn’t say another word. Just turned and marched out, slamming the door behind her.
Took all he could muster to not run after her, but he’d sworn to himself.
And what just happened? What had he just seen?
Mary couldn’t believe her eyes. What was the China Doll doing here at Miss Ling’s and…? She swung around and faced Mister Risen. “I take it you two know each other?”
He nodded.
She set the cup down, dusted her fingers, and stiffened her back. “Would you please take me home before that woman comes back?”
“Of course.” He handed her the baby and stood. “I’ll fetch the wagon, shouldn’t take long. I left them harnessed.”
Against his protest, she’d insisted Virgil take her to that din of iniquity so she could see the China Doll. They were right, she should have left well enough alone. Wasn’t her fault Caleb found her irresistible.
But worst of all, now the dark-haired harlot haunted her dreams.
Shamed Mary to think he’d choose the whore over her. Just because she wasn’t as good looking or….
She hated it all to blue blazes. Why had her daddy been so right? If she’d fallen in love with a real man, someone like Edward Clinton, then she wouldn’t be sitting there fuming over seeing Caleb’s precious China Doll.
Halfway back to the Mercantile, the question she’d been wanting to ask slipped out. Why was she so stupid?
“I met Meiko when Moses broke his leg last year. That was before y’all came.”
“Her real name is Meiko?”
“That’s right, Meiko Ling.”
“She’s Miss Ling’s daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“She called you Jet?”
He filled his lungs. “What is it about you, Mary Wheeler? I haven’t been able to talk about her, but with you….” He shrugged. “Moses said.…” His words tailed off like now it was his friend he couldn’t bear talking about.
“Miss Ling said he could wake up any minute.”
He nodded, a tear trickled down his cheek.
“I’ll be praying for him. You a praying man, Mister Risen?”
He shook his head.
“That’s a shame. I don’t know how folks make it through a day here in this hateful land without the hope of God.”
“Moses agrees with you.” He smiled.
“Stop.” She rotated on the bench toward him.
He reined the mules in. “What is it?”
“Turn around, we need to get the baby. I don’t want to have to come back all the time to feed him there. Plus, I didn’t even speak to my cousin. Guess seeing the China.…” She reseated herself facing front.
He maneuvered the team around.
“I’ll speak with Lanelle. You can bring her to the Mercantile whenever she wants, but I’ll see to the baby boy at my place while she tends to Moses.”
Lanelle heard the front door’s tinkling bell. Another poor soul needing the healer to work them a miracle, but the old lady seemed fresh out. She hadn’t even given poor Moses anything to ease his pain because she wanted him to wake up.
Maybe him being out of it was actually a God-send. Broken bones she understood, but his head injuries, him not waking up broke her heart.
First, she’d been responsible for Caleb’s death, and now her sweet husba
nd’s life hung in the balance. Had her love truly been so evil? How could God be so cruel to claim both their lives just because she’d fallen in love with a cousin?
Miss Ling said Moses hovered between heaven and earth, and that he had to decide where he wanted to be.
She pressed her cheek to his and whispered in his ear. “Please come back to me, dear husband. Moses Jones, please choose me and come back. Help me raise our new baby boy. I can’t do it without you.” She broke down and sobbed on his chest.
How could it be that he might not? He couldn’t choose heaven over her.
He was so excited about the baby coming soon. The baby. Marked with those stupid Wheeler toes exactly like every man in the family. What was she going to do? Mary would probably see sooner or later and know for sure.
If she had it, she’d swill enough rot gut to make it all go away, for an afternoon anyway. The jug still waited in the spring. But what would it help? The morning after always came.
Oh, Lord! Are my sins so great? Does Moses have to pay, too? Take me! Or the baby—both of us, but don’t let Moses die. Please, Lord, give him back to me.
A hand rested lightly on her shoulder. “Lanelle?” The voice sounded way sweeter than she ever deserved. “I’m so sorry about Moses.”
She looked up. “Mary. Thank you. And for feeding the baby. Miss Ling said he’s already better and will thrive with your milk now.”
“Oh, I’m glad to. How’s Moses? Any change?”
She shook her head.
“Anything I can do?”
Though her eyes pleaded, she couldn’t put a voice to what she really wanted. “Pray.”
“Listen, I’m going to take the baby with me to the Mercantile. I’ve got Susannah and can’t be coming back all the time. Mister Risen said he’d bring you whenever you want.”
The no died halfway across her tongue. “Oh, Mary, you don’t have to do that. It’s too much. We can find a wet nurse. You’ve got your own baby to see to. Did you bring her? Miss Ling told me you’d named her after your mother.”
“I’m family. It’s no problem, believe me. I’ve got plenty of milk for the both of them, and we don’t want some stranger tending to our little man. Have you got a name for him yet?”
She closed her eyes. Moses wanted to give him his name, but how could she? She offered a smile, hopeful her heart didn’t show. “We hadn’t settled on anything yet. I read the story of Moses in the Bible, thought about Aaron. Or Joshua took over for him after he died, but that can’t.…”
She looked up, but tears blurred sweet Mary. “I just don’t know. He can wait until his daddy is better.” Her cousin backed away a step, eyes glistening with tears of her own. “Oh Mary, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I’d never hurt you on purpose.”
Her cousin wiped her eyes. “No, don’t you be sorry on my account. I don’t want you to become a widow, it’s a horrible fate. No ma’am. You take care of your Moses, and I’ll watch baby Jones. I’ll take good care of him for you.”
She gritted her teeth, but the words didn’t come.
How could she hurt sweet Mary?
Oh, Lord, don’t let her figure it out.
Chapter Eleven
The next feeding proveda bit awkward, but Mary managed. Bless Mattie’s heart. She sure seemed to like playing grandmother. And Virgil, the poor old dear, had a dozen customers with twice that many questions every time she retreated from her desk to the parlor.
After only two days, Jonesy must have gained a full pound, maybe more. Even though he started smaller and was birthed two full weeks after her Susannah, a body would never know they weren’t twins. More than one customer had asked.
“Cousins.”
That’s all she allowed, no one needed to know Moses still clung to life, but was fading fast. Mister Risen had fetched the boy once, said Lanelle couldn’t bare leaving Moses but wanted to see him.
Then he came the next day to bring news and tell Mary maybe it would be best to just leave Jonesy with her for a little longer. Miss Ling gave them no hope. But Lanelle declined to believe the old woman’s declarations.
The healer woman kept telling her that with Moses so busted up, it was a wonder he’d lasted as long as he had. His wife, though, refused to leave his side and continually read the scriptures over the man, with times of begging him to choose her, to choose to stay, as if the man had any choice.
Mary hated the sorrow and pain in Risen’s voice with the telling. So obvious he loved his friend. Whose heart wouldn’t go out to the young woman, or the man?
Mid-morning of the third day of her having Jonesy, Mattie put big pots of water on and insisted everyone, including Mary, get themselves a nice hot bath. Resisting, she retreated to her paper work, but her employee wouldn’t relent.
“Now, dear heart, cleanliness is next to Godliness.”
“You do know that is not in the Bible.” Mary glanced up from her ledger.
The old dear put her hands on her hips and stared across the desk. “Sweet girl, come on now, you’re first, then I’ll bathe the babies, me and Virgil can get wet during their afternoon nap time. That way, someone will always be minding the store. You know it will make you feel better, a hot bath always does.”
“You’re going to stand there begging until I agree, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Unpinning her hair, she laid back against the wash tub and let the hot water pull all the trials and tribulations of her bad choices not only out of her muscles, but out of her soul. She closed her eyes and prayed blessings over her dear Mattie.
No one had mentioned her birthday, but she’d turned eighteen all the same.
The tub wasn’t her daddy’s fancy bath house, but welcomed. After the old dear rinsed the soap out of Mary’s hair, her turn ended. She stood and wrapped in her cotton robe Mattie had left for her.
Mary sighed, it felt wonderful to be clean. She helped with Susannah’s bath, then her resident angel went to bathing the boy.
Covering her daughter with the soft nursing blanket, she helped her to latch on, then rocked and sang to her. Mattie dipped little Jonesy into the warm water. By the time her sweet baby girl slept soundly, the woman brought her the boy and took Susannah.
“I’ll go put her in the cradle.” Shortly she returned.
Mary smiled. “Do you know what a blessing you are?”
“Who me?” The woman scurried around straightening the area. “Have you noticed that baby boy’s toes? I’ve never seen such.”
Mary uncovered his tiny feet. “Oh, yes. I mean I hadn’t, but that’s a Wheeler trait, only the men carry it. I imagine Lanelle was proud for that.” She smiled and rocked the boy she suckled. Caleb’s words came back to her. Father to son…
She closed her eyes and focused to recall his exact words that first time she’d asked about his extra skin. Father to son, he’d said. The daughters didn’t have it or pass it on. But then…
Her heart flipped then threatened to beat out her chest.
Oh, Father God.
Was that why Lanelle came? Why she married Moses Jones in such a rush? Her heart slowed.
Was it still beating at all?
Warmth drained from her face, and hot tears pooled in her eyes. She did her best to remain nonchalant, but…
What was Mattie saying?
What a fool she’d been! A blind, stupid fool!
And here she was, being a… No. This innocent baby had done nothing but be born; he didn’t pick his daddy or partake in his mother’s sins! Except the poor little thing was reaping what they had sown.
Sins of the fathers visited on the children up to the fourth generation. That’s what the Word said.
Dear Lord, dear Lord.
“Mary? What’s wrong dear? You’re white as a sheet.”
She stiffened her lip and smiled. She went to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. She cleared her throat and tried again. “No, ma’am, we’re fine. Just reminiscing a bit I guess. Wishing things ha
d been different.”
She kept her smile, and her awful secret. She hadn’t lied.
“It’s a shame you came all the way to California to be such a young widow, and single mother, having the baby to raise alone. And now looks like your cousin may suffer the same fate. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“I should have listened to my father.”
“If only we could see into the future, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. If only.” Caleb’s son at her breast. She wrapped his feet.
The only one who knew the truth was poor Lanelle.
Oh, dear God, it all made sense now.
That rotten Caleb Wheeler had bamboozled her, too.
Jethro couldn’t stand watching his friend die before his eyes. He backed out of the room and slipped out the back door. For the longest he wandered the streets, searching for… Who knew for what?
He’d convinced Moses Jones to come west, promised him adventure, but not death. His friend caught the fever, but claimed God told him he’d be rich. Well, he had the adventure and more gold than he’d ever need.
Found himself a wife he loved more than his next breath…
But where was his God in all this?
No one could call the big galoot weak minded, but for as long as Jethro had known the man, he’d not only talked about his religion, he’d lived it, walked it out. One of the big reasons Jethro had first been attracted to him.
His own father and all his kind traded in lies and deceit, worshiped at the altar of greed. How many times had his pa told him that he named him Jethro because it meant large. It tickled Moses that the original Moses’ father-in- law was Jethro.
Seemed silly at the time, the giant giggling like a little girl, but…
COME UNTO ME
“What?” Jethro looked left then right. He spun around. No one, but when he turned back, he stood in front of an old store someone had converted to a church. Like a siren calling to his heart, the place drew him.
A single candle burned inside. But it wasn’t Sunday. He turned away, but his feet brought him back.
Maybe there was a God.
