by Sara Donati
“Because while I was gone Richard Todd had settled in to Paradise and built a fine house, started doctoring and making a place for himself in the village.”
He was silent for a time, with no sign of what he was thinking with the exception of the fluttering of a muscle in his cheek. Elizabeth had come to recognize this sign, and knew that she had best leave him some room. When he looked at her again, the old anger was back, uncompromised by all the years that had passed since this hurt.
“I saw right away what had happened, that she had fallen in love with the man. She could never hide what she was feeling, not from me.”
“But why?” Elizabeth said. “Why, given what she knew of him, what she had seen him do?”
“I don’t know. Yes, I do. At least some of it. Because he never chided her about leaving behind the Kahnyen’kehàka in her,” Nathaniel said. “Because he was a challenge.” There was a long pause, filled with tension. “Because he paid attention to her.”
“Your mother,” Elizabeth countered. “She must have known, she must have tried—”
“Oh, she tried,” he said easily. “And so did my father. But there wasn’t much to be done about it. They weren’t obvious, you see. They didn’t flaunt anything. To this day, I don’t think anybody in Paradise has any idea of what went on.”
“Curiosity does,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“Because Curiosity was there for the first birthing,” Nathaniel said. “Before that point she knew as little as anybody else.”
“Then Hannah is in fact Richard’s child?”
“No,” Nathaniel said curtly. “She is mine. She was conceived the night I got home from the bush, and nine months later Sarah brought her into the world. Along with a son, who died in my hands.” He sat up, his hair falling forward, and he looked Elizabeth directly in the eye, but he didn’t touch her. “Hannah is my child, and I’ll ask you kindly to take that as fact and never question it. Can you do that for me?”
He was looking at her impassively, but there was a wariness about him.
Elizabeth nodded.
“Now, you know about Sarah,” he said, lying down again, next to her but somehow not next to her any longer. “And it’s time we got to sleep.”
But of course she didn’t know about Sarah; she knew less of her than she had known to start with. Still, it wasn’t Sarah who mattered right now. Nathaniel needed things from her that she could give him, at least for this moment, at least for now: her silence and her acceptance. Although he did not invite it, Elizabeth put her arms around Nathaniel and held him until she felt him begin to relax. In time she fell asleep herself, wondering about these wounds of his, and if it might be in her power to heal them.
XXXI
“I wish that man would set still,” Curiosity grumbled out loud as she bent to pull on her shoes. “I’m too old to be running around this village ever time Dr. Richard Todd take it into his little head to go hightailing it into the bush.”
Galileo stretched and yawned his acknowledgment, snapping his suspenders into place. “I’ll have the team ready in ten minutes,” he said as he closed the door behind him.
“You’d think I was the only woman in this part of the world to have ever borned a child,” she called after him.
Then she looked up, eyes narrowed, at Moses Southern.
“How long she been at it?”
He fingered his beard, and refused to meet her eye. “Since early this evening.”
“Hmmph.” Curiosity stood and stamped her feet one after the other to make her shoes sit right. “Could go on all night.”
“Did the last time,” Moses agreed. “How much you charge for a birthing?”
“How much a healthy child and your woman worth to you?” She didn’t like the man, and she wasn’t about to make this easy on him, although she wouldn’t have turned down his request for help. Not that she expected to be paid. Moses Southern would offer the judge something for her services, as if she were still a slave. Without waiting for an answer, she lifted her chin toward the basket on the table. “That belongs in the wagon,” she said. “I have to tell the judge I’m going.”
Once in the hall she relaxed a bit, and allowed herself a grin. She liked being called on, and she liked especially the business of helping other women bring their children into the world. This particular woman was one who needed some talking to. It was exactly the opportunity she had been hoping for. Childbed was just the place for some home truths.
The judge answered the knock at his door immediately. When he saw she was dressed to go out, he raised an eyebrow in question. Since his daughter’s elopement and, more recently, the realization that Elizabeth was not going to appear in court as she had been requested to do, he had been keeping to himself. There was the smell of brandy about him. Curiosity’s nostrils flared, and he drew back a step.
“Mistress Southern’s time has come,” Curiosity informed him.
“Richard isn’t here to attend her.”
“No, sir, he ain’t.” Out in the bush running after another man’s woman, Curiosity thought. And shame on you for letting him go after that daughter of yours.
“Who will cook our breakfast?” He looked down at her blurry eyed. Curiosity could see that he would sleep through the morning and never miss his breakfast; he had been drinking for days. She wondered if she should take the time to talk some sense to this man, and then put the thought aside. Wouldn’t do any good anyhow.
“My Daisy will see to it that you and Julian are looked after.”
He nodded, and turned away from her. Then he turned back, suddenly.
“Did you know?” he asked. “Did you know about her attachment to Bonner?” It was the first time he had asked her outright.
“She never said his name to me,” Curiosity said, looking him straight in the eye.
· · ·
In the wagon, she laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “Stop by the Witherspoon place.”
“What for?” asked Galileo. “What’re you plotting, woman?”
She grinned. “Why, a birthing is a long business. I need some help. Thought mayhap Miss Witherspoon would like to lend a hand.”
He grunted. “I see through you.”
“But she won’t,” Curiosity said. “Not until it’s too late.”
“Why not let these people sort things out for theyselves?”
“ ’Cause,” she sniffed. “I cain’t. Wait and see, Leo, if it ain’t worth our trouble to do what we can for Elizabeth when she ain’t here to look after her own interests.”
“You think she willing to buy them Glove boys free, you might be disappointed.”
“Mayhap I will be,” Curiosity said. “But I doubt it. That girl has got a good soul.”
Moses Southern was waiting for them when they pulled up. He looked surprised to see Kitty Witherspoon with them, but just as he was about to comment there was a wavering cry from the dimly lit room behind him and he half turned, looking over his shoulder. His dogs whimpered and pressed close to his legs, and he pushed them off with a curse.
“Are the children here?” Curiosity asked.
He shook his head and gestured with his chin down the track to the neighbor.
“You go on now,” she said to him. “Go on over to Axel and set in front of the fire, Mr. Southern. We’ll send word over when the child come along.”
Moses Southern was surely the sourest human being the Lord had ever seen fit to blow his breath into, Curiosity was thinking. He was looking up at her with his lips sucked right into his mouth, his mean little eyes narrowed down tight. He turned his attention to Kitty Witherspoon, who stood just behind Curiosity with her arms folded and her chin tucked down to her chest.
“Miz Witherspoon, don’t you let her go talking no nonsense to my wife, now,” he said as he reached behind him for his cap, which he pulled down hard onto his forehead.
There was a look on Kitty’s face, just one step removed from disgust. It couldn’t have been clearer if the gi
rl had spat on the ground in front of Moses Southern and cursed in his face. But he was looking elsewhere. Curiosity put a long, cool hand on the girl’s arm to keep her still.
“Mr. Southern, don’t you worry none. When the urge to talk comes upon me, I’ll call on the Lord instead.”
With a grunt, he turned and stamped away, splattering mud with each kick of his heavy boots.
“That man has got the temperament of a wasp-stung mule,” Curiosity muttered as she took her basket from Galileo.
Inside, the small cabin was poorly lit by a sluggish fire that cast shadows in jagged shapes. There were two rooms, separated from each other by a faded calico curtain washed almost to transparency. Near the hearth laundry had been hung to dry: a little girl’s dress, some mismatched stockings, a pair of longjohns, more patch than anything else. From the rafters hung a few ragged bunches of wildflowers dried to gray and dust along with the meat and the corn. There was the reek of salt pork and cabbage and vinegar, tallow candles and swaddling clothes left too long without tending. From the door Curiosity could see Martha Southern in bed in the second room, the great mountain of her belly rearing up and dwarfing the round face, streaked with sweat and blotched red and white.
Kitty was wrinkling her nose. Curiosity took one look at her and led her out of sight.
“Kitty Witherspoon,” she whispered. “I can surely use your help here. But only if you don’t let that woman think she’s worse than dirt. You don’ like the way she live her life, but she do the best she can. Now, are you here to help, or should I send you back home to your daddy like the child you are?”
At first she thought that she had been too harsh, for the girl went pale and then flushed. But the distance in her eyes went away and she blinked at Curiosity.
“I’ll open the windows.”
“Good idea,” said Curiosity with a smile. “And we’ll need water. But first come say how-do. She won’t bite, you know. Not at this stage, at any rate.” She paused, and cast a knowing look at Kitty’s middle. “Seems to me your turn ain’t too far down the line. That true?”
Wordlessly, Kitty nodded, spreading her ringless hands over her waist.
“I thought me so,” Curiosity said with a nod. “You’ll be glad of women around you when your time come along.”
“My husband will attend me—” Kitty’s voice faltered.
Curiosity said, “Will he now?” And watched the young woman blush.
“He will be my husband.”
Will he now? But she could be kind when it was called for, and so she didn’t say it. She had watched this girl grow, and it saddened Curiosity to see her juggled from man to man. Always settling for a piece of what she thought she wanted. Julian’s child in her, and telling herself that Richard Todd would not know the difference.
“So be it,” she said quietly. “But one way or the other, you’ll be glad of your own kind.”
There was a moan, cut off suddenly.
“Miz Southern. How is that child coming on?” Curiosity moved into the next room with sharp little taps of her shoes.
“Slow,” Martha Southern whispered. “Miss Witherspoon, I am surprised to see you here. Thank you kindly for your help.”
Kitty cleared her throat and nodded.
“She’s a mite scared,” Curiosity pointed out. “But it’s a chore we women have got to share, ain’t that so?”
With eyes darting everywhere but Martha’s belly, Kitty managed a nod. “I’m not sure how much help I can be.”
“Well, settle in,” Curiosity said, tying her apron into a tighter wrap around her slender self. “And we’ll find out the answer to that question. Now,” she said. “This is going to take a good while. Get over there, Kitty, and help me get this woman out of bed. Ain’t no way a child’ll get down to business while it’s got such a easy life. What we got to talk about until the next pains come on?”
Kitty calmed after a while, putting her hands to whatever task Curiosity set her and doing it well. When a pain came down hard on Martha, Kitty would sometimes pause and blanch. But then she would carry on. Silent and watchful and grim, she pressed her lips hard together and worked without complaint.
But Curiosity could not move the girl to a talking frame of mind. It was an unusual experience, for she had always had the knack for getting women to open up, but Kitty was closed to the subject of what had gone on at the Albany courthouse. Martha would have been an easier nut to crack if it hadn’t been for Kitty. The minute Curiosity raised the topic, she saw them glance at each other and then away, united in their discomfort as they were in nothing else. As if she had produced a rude noise or a bad smell and they were agreed that it would be rude to draw her attention to it.
The child got down to business just past midnight. Martha asked to be allowed to set, but Curiosity pushed her a little further, encouraging her to walk between them from one end of the small cabin to the other. With increasing regularity and for longer periods, Martha would falter and sag between them. What had been a thoughtful look on her plain round face turned more to pain, and then moved beyond that, too.
“Don’ you hold your breath,” said Curiosity. “Come on and talk to me, now. Tell me, Kitty. Did I see you come back from Albany with a new bonnet?”
It was straw, she was told. With a velvet ribbon. And then Kitty was silent again.
Martha tensed suddenly and let out a low moan.
“She’s gone a gusher,” Curiosity said, stepping around the puddle on the floor. “Don’t look so took back, Kitty. It’s just her waters. The child getting impatient now.”
“Waters?” asked Kitty.
“I guess your daddy never told you much, did he? And why should he, probably forgot the little he once knew about a woman’s insides.”
Martha laughed out loud at that, and even Kitty grinned.
“Glad to see you ain’t lost your sense of humor,” Curiosity said as they settled Martha into bed. “It will stand you in good stead in the next hour or two.”
“Another hour or two.” Kitty looked suddenly panicked.
“Took me three to push the last one out,” Martha said. “But he was oversized.”
“It’s one of them mysteries,” Curiosity agreed. “Takes no time at all to get one planted and hours of hard work to make the trip in the opposite direction. Kitty, we’ll need that basin of warm water now.”
While the younger girl was in the next room ladling water at the hearth, Martha gestured Curiosity to bend down to her in the bed.
“Yes, child.”
“There ain’t nothing to tell you about Albany. We never was in the courthouse, never saw the judge or anybody.”
“Did you hear Richard Todd talking to your man at all?”
Martha shook her head, and put her hands to her belly. “Starting again,” she panted. When the contraction had let up its grip, Martha collapsed against her pillow and blew a damp tendril of hair away from her face. “I like Miss Elizabeth,” she said. “I wouldn’t do nothing to cause her misery.”
“You wouldn’t lie to the judge?”
“I can say what I saw, but I wouldn’t make nothing up.”
Curiosity grunted softly.
“Can I have something to drink?”
When she had finished sipping from the cup Curiosity offered her, she wiped her mouth and glanced at the older woman fitfully. “But it weren’t right, her running off that way in the dead of night. I wouldn’t have thought it of her.” She said this softly, but she meant it. Curiosity wasn’t surprised, she had heard it before in the village.
“We do what we got to do,” Curiosity said quietly. “Ain’t that so, Miz Kitty?”
Kitty was standing at the foot of the bed with the basin in her hands. She watched as Martha coped with the next pain, grabbing hold of the rope Curiosity had tied to the foot of the bed so that the tendons on her lower arms stood out in relief as she pulled. The bed creaked and groaned with it, and at the end Martha put back her head and howled. The water sloshed
in the basin as Kitty took a step backward.
“You come over here by her side,” Curiosity said. “Help her sit up when the pains come, so she can put some muscle behind her push.”
Kitty hesitated, and Curiosity shot her a sharp look.
“I got things to do down on this end,” Curiosity explained. “She cain’t keep her misery to herself anymore, and she will yell it out. A little noise ain’t goin’ to turn you blue, now is it?”
“I didn’t know it hurts so much,” Kitty said. “There’s nothing I can do.”
“You can stop whining,” Curiosity shot back at her. “It’s Martha here who’s got the hardest work to do. Don’ you go running out on her.”
Kitty came forward reluctantly. Curiosity took the basin from her and set it down, and then she took the girl by the wrist, startling her. She pressed Kitty’s palm against the bulk of Martha’s belly.
“Feel this child trying to find its way into the world.”
There was a sudden tightening and a ripple. Kitty’s face rippled and changed, too. Not in horror, but in sudden understanding.
“It feels like a hand,” the girl said, hoarsely.
Martha moaned softly.
“Let’s hope that’s a foot,” she said to Kitty. “Otherwise we got our work cut out for us.”
Kitty was looking between Martha and Curiosity. Her sleepiness was gone, the distant look in her eyes banished for the moment. “Will you come to me when it’s my time?”
“I surely will,” Curiosity said. “If you want me there. Now will you do something for me?”
“I can’t tell you about Albany and the court and Elizabeth,” Kitty said. “I promised Richard I wouldn’t. He says it’s important.”
Curiosity laughed. “Men got one kind of important,” she said. “Women got another.” She was folding the nightclothes back, her slim, dark hands busy and knowing as Martha’s flesh bulged and buckled.
“It’s coming,” Martha panted.
“So it is,” Curiosity agreed. “Whether it’s got a mind to or not.” But her face was suddenly set in worry lines that she could not hide.
