by Jan Watson
“Ernie,” Ruby said, “I hate to be a bother, but I crave a glass of cold buttermilk. Would you mind to go to the springhouse and get some?”
Ernie backed out the door, never taking his eyes off Emerald and the infant. “If that ain’t a pretty picture.”
Ruby craned her neck to make sure her son-in-law was out of earshot. “Miz Pelfrey . . .”
“Please call me Copper.”
“Copper, really how did this come about? I ain’t had my visitor for a year now. If I’d have had the barest inkling such a thing could happen, I would have told Mr. Tierney to keep his this-’n’-that at home.”
Copper checked the new potatoes. She dumped in a bowlful of just-shelled peas. She’d let them cook a few more minutes. She tapped the fork against the lip of the pot and put the lid back on. “Turn-of-life babies are not that uncommon. It can be a very fertile time. It’s like the body’s not quite ready to give up on reproducing. I once helped deliver a set of triplets to a fifty-five-year-old woman. Like you, she thought the disorder in her health was from her turning a certain age.”
Ruby slapped her own cheek. “Surely not.”
“Yes, triplets and all over four pounds. It was the talk of the town.”
“Was ary of them normal?”
“Fit as fiddles—the whole lot of them.”
“Triplets.” Emerald’s face got dreamy. “Oh, I’d love me a set of triplets.”
“Don’t wish for such,” Ruby said. “You’ll bring trouble to this house.”
Ruby was like many women up here in the mountains. She was stalwart and strong—always expecting the unexpected. Stories circulated of women dropping a baby at the end of a row of corn they’d just weeded and then going right on to the next, or having a baby in the middle of the night and then getting up to cook breakfast or do a wash. Many were poor as Job’s turkey and couldn’t afford the time to lie abed. And most, like Ruby, were too proud to be waited on.
Copper knew her own situation was unusual. Because of her first marriage, she had money of her own. John was a hard worker and often worked for wages, but having money in the bank afforded her family luxuries not available to most folks in the area. Having a nice house with room for her small clinic and a hired girl like Manda allowed her the ministry of midwifery God had led her to. It also helped that John was not arrogant. He didn’t base his manhood on what she did or what she had. His only complaint was that he missed her when she was gone.
Copper dusted pieces of trout with cornmeal. They popped and sizzled when she laid them in the skillet. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten but a few bites of leftover corn cakes today. Supper would sure taste good.
Ernie returned and started filling glasses with buttermilk. Copper cut the corn bread. Emerald dished the food onto plates.
Ruby said, “I wish I’d known you were coming, Copper. I’d have baked a pork cake.”
Everyone laughed as they took their seats.
“Another time.” Copper sat with her hands folded in her lap. She would give Ernie an opportunity to offer grace. If he didn’t, she would ask if she could. He didn’t, but Ruby did.
“Lord,” she prayed, “how can we thank You enough for the blessings of this day? For food on the table, this boy in my arms, for You bringing Copper to me in my time of need, for all these and more, we give You thanks. Amen.”
The fish flaked when Copper cut it with her fork. It was moist and tender. “Ernie, this fish is delicious.”
“Oh, I can’t take credit,” he said. “Miz Tierney’s the fisherman in this house.”
“I caught them last evening,” Ruby said. “I went fishing before the pains laid me out.”
Copper didn’t know when she had enjoyed an evening more. This family was so full of kindness toward each other.
Ernie even insisted on doing the dishes. “You cooked,” he said when Copper began scraping the plates. “I’ll see to this.”
Copper got Ruby settled with the baby. It took a lot of coaxing to get him to nurse. Fat thing just wanted to lie about being adored. Copper could have just carried him home with her—he was that delectable. As if Ruby would give him up.
Besides, if Copper’s suspicions proved correct, she would be busy enough with her own in about eight months. She hadn’t told John yet. She’d give it a couple more weeks to be certain. Hopefully, he would be as happy as she was. He had his reservations, she knew, but he would come around.
Emerald poked her head around the doorframe. “Your husband’s out front.”
She went out to meet John, surprised and pleased to see he had brought Jack along.
“Everything all right?” he asked, handing Jack down from the saddle.
She nodded.
“I got to steer, Mama,” Jack said. “I’m good at it too.”
John dismounted and sneaked a kiss to her cheek. “We brought Chessie with us so you’ll have a way back tomorrow.”
She nestled in his arms for the briefest time. Public displays of affection were not appropriate, and besides Ernie was right there.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve met Ernie, right?”
John pumped Ernie’s hand. “Yeah, that day in the churchyard. How’s it going?”
“I’ll just take Jack inside to meet the new baby,” Copper said, “and leave you fellows to talk.”
She held Jack’s hand and cautioned him not to be loud and not to touch the baby. “Ruby, this is my son, Jack. He’s come to pay his respects.”
Jack looked the infant over. “Ma’am, you got yourself a whopper.”
Rose smiled. “I sure do.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Not yet. I haven’t had time to think about that.”
Jack leaned against the bed and looked the baby over. “We had a baby Mama called Jumbo, but he wasn’t big like this. I don’t know why Mama called him that. Can I see his feet?”
“It was the Sizemores’ baby,” Copper explained as Ruby unwrapped blankets. “Do you know Tillie and Abe?”
“Can’t say as I do,” Ruby said.
“I need to have a get-together once all the babies are big enough.”
“Wait until I have mine,” Emerald said.
Jack swung his head around to stare at Emerald. When he opened his mouth to speak, Copper tapped his shoulder. He turned his attention back to the baby. “Can I feel of his feet?”
“Sure,” Ruby said.
Jack looked at his mother.
“Gently,” she said.
With one finger Jack stroked the newborn’s foot. The tiny toes flared. Jack laughed and did it again.
“That’s enough,” Copper said. “Remember, he’s not a toy.”
“He sure is wrinkled,” Jack said.
“Thank Mrs. Tierney, Jack.”
“Thank you for sharing your baby with me,” he said. “His feet will probably straighten out one day.”
“You’re welcome,” Ruby said. “You come back anytime.”
“All right,” Jack said. “Let me know when he’s ready to go fishing.”
As Copper ushered her son from the room, Ruby and Emerald’s soft laughter followed. “That’s one smart boy,” she heard Emerald say.
Copper couldn’t help but be proud of Jack. She had another story to share with John.
When they got back outside, Ernie took Chessie to stable her for the night. Copper walked along with John to the head of the trail that led back to Goose Creek and then on home. Jack sat astride John’s horse.
When they reached the trail, John turned and said, “Listen, Manda’s gone.”
“What do you mean—gone?”
John handed her a crumpled bit of paper.
Copper smoothed it out and read what Manda had printed. “I don’t understand. This is not like Manda.”
John shrugged. “Remy showed this to me when I got back to the house this afternoon, said she found it by the sugar bowl.”
Copper read it again. “Forevermore, what was she thinking?”
She touched John’s arm. “What should we do about the girls? I never thought to leave them so long with Cara.”
John pulled her into an embrace. “They’re fine, sweetheart. I stopped on the way over here, and Cara said let them stay as long as we needed. But you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, early afternoon, I’d say, if Ruby continues to do well. What will you and Jack eat? I don’t want to make Remy think she has to cook.”
“Remy and Jack had supper on the table when I got home today. Mushrooms and onions over fried potatoes. It was really good, wasn’t it, Son?”
“Yup,” Jack said, looking like he was going to nod off.
Copper put her arms around John’s waist. “Thank you.”
“For what? I’m just sharing the load.”
“You make my life so easy.”
He bent his head to her.
“You two aren’t gonna start kissing, are you?” Jack asked.
“Turn your head,” John said. “I’m going to plant one on your mother.”
“Lift him down, John.”
Jack slid from the saddle and hung suspended between his parents’ arms. Copper kissed his cheeks until he squealed, “Uncle. Uncle.”
Saddled up with Jack in front, John waited. “I’ll just watch until you get back to the yard.”
Copper walked backward, waving and blowing kisses as far as she could; then she stood and watched her husband and son ride away. Her heart was full. Had a woman ever been more blessed? She thought not.
She thought of Mazy and Molly and was ever so thankful for Cara. She hadn’t worried about them all day knowing they would be safe and well cared for in her friend’s house. And Jack was with his father, not to mention Remy. Manda was a puzzle. Copper would never have thought she would go off like that. Of course she had seen Lilly to the coach first and she had a right to visit her sister, but something seemed amiss. It would be interesting to get Remy’s take on it.
Lilly’s train should be nearing Lexington by now. Copper wished she could be with her to witness her excitement. Alice was probably beside herself with anticipation. Selfishly, she still wished she hadn’t let Lilly go. She liked tight apron strings—the tighter the strings, the lesser the worry. Well, there was nothing to do about it now but wait and enjoy all Lilly’s stories when she returned.
For now she needed to get the newborn to eat and see to Ruby’s comfort. In the morning, Ernie was going to fetch a neighbor lady to help out for a few days so Emerald wouldn’t feel the need to do any heavy-duty work. Copper would be able to leave when she got there. Everything was in perfect order.
22
A sound like a rasping saw startled Lilly awake, but she kept her eyes tightly closed. She didn’t want to see where she was. The sound came in waves, speeding up and slowing down, then speeding up again. She was hungry and very thirsty, and when she rubbed her sore knees, they smarted like Mama had put stinging antiseptic on them.
She could feel something behind her, something like a wall, but it didn’t seem like wood. Without turning around, she patted with her hands. It had ridges like a piece of tin. Was she on a roof? No, that didn’t make sense. A roof would be under her if she was sitting on it, not all around her. She should have figured that out when the man dumped her here, but she had been too scared to notice anything. She wasn’t going to open her eyes and look, though, because that would make it real.
Maybe she could keep from looking, but she couldn’t keep from thinking. Kate would say that was Lilly’s problem—she thought too much about serious things. Maybe Kate was right.
It had all started when she heard the dog barking. Who could ignore that pitiful sound? Not her. Scenes flashed behind her eyelids like lightning, scaring the wits out of her, until she settled on remembering things as they had happened. It was important to keep everything in order so she could deal with it one thing at a time.
Manda told her to wait on the porch, but she got bored and walked down to the creek. She heard the dog and went to investigate. When she got to the rock wall, she set her valise and the wicker hamper on top and climbed over. She remembered the dog’s bark turned to whines and then to crying—if dogs could cry. She decided they could. The cry seemed to come from beyond a garden filled with corn. It was just a short way from the stone fence to the field. She started walking between two rows. The green stalks stood tall and straight with budding ears of corn tickling her face with their silky tassels. She tried to run but it was hard. The rows were too close together.
Something stopped her when she got to the end of the rows. She stood in the shadows of the cornstalks and looked out. A man was at the edge of a pond. A beagle was running around on the bank acting all frantic. It looked like the dog she fed the pieces of biscuit to. The man heaved a gunnysack into the water. It made a big splash. The dog jumped in after it. The man whisked his hands together like that was that and walked away.
Lilly held her breath. When she could no longer see the man, she ventured out of the cornfield. She ran to the edge of the pond. A thick patch of cattails obscured her view. Dragonflies buzzed her head. Watching her step, she parted the cattails. One burst and sent seeds flying around her.
The dog flailed in the water.
“Here, girl,” she said but not too loud. “Come here.”
The beagle paddled over and climbed up onto the shore. Droplets flew everywhere when the dog shook herself. Her big brown eyes looked up at Lilly. They said, “Help me.”
Out in the pond, the bag was sinking. Lilly had a sick feeling about what was inside.
She searched among the fuzzy brown cattails for a stick. When she found a long, narrow piece of driftwood, she waded into the murky water, Daddy John’s warning playing in her ears: “Ponds are dangerous. The muddy bottom will suck you in, and you might not be able to get out.”
She could see what he meant, for it was like walking in cold molasses. Before she’d gone ten steps, one of her new shoes was stuck. She pulled her foot out and continued on, leaving the shoe in the mud. The water lapped at her waist. She leaned as far forward as she dared, jabbing with the stick. She could feel the burlap bundle with the end of the spindly pole, but she couldn’t catch hold. She needed to go farther out into the water. Using the stick, she probed the bottom of the pond. If she walked another two feet forward, she’d be in over her head, and she was not a good swimmer.
This called for praying with your eyes wide open. “Heavenly Father,” she prayed aloud, “I’m in an awful fix. I’d be ever so grateful if You’d show me the way out.”
Streaming behind the bag was a length of heavy twine she hadn’t noticed before. Gently, gently, gently she used the end of the stick to turn the bag around and snagged the twine where it was coiled around the mouth of the sack. The bag was nearly submerged, but she saw victory coming her way. So close. So close—and then the stick snapped. She could have cried with frustration, but she didn’t have time.
“I’m serious, Lord,” she prayed again.
The water splashed behind her. The beagle swam by. Using her stocky legs like sculls, the dog propelled herself through the murky water. She grabbed the sack by her teeth and began swimming toward her.
Lilly reached for the burlap bag and caught it by the twine. The weight of it nearly pulled her under, but she held on and struggled back to the bank.
Kneeling by the bundle, she worked on the tie with her muddy hands. The dog ran circles around her, barking. “Shhh,” she said as the twine came loose. There were four brown and white puppies inside the bag. She lifted them out and put them on the bank in the sunlight. Her heart was grieved.
The mother beagle nosed them all before settling on one. They all looked dead to Lilly, but the mother held out hope. Lilly put her hand where she thought the puppy’s heart should be. She could feel a beat. When she touched the others in the same place, their tiny chests were still. Oh, it was so sad.
The one puppy’s belly was so full of water, it jiggled. She picked it up
by the heels like Mama said she did with just-born babies. She smacked its behind but not very hard. Dirty water gushed out of the puppy’s mouth. It made a meager mewling sound. That made her so happy she wanted to dance before she remembered where she was and what she’d seen. She held the puppy close.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said to the beagle.
But before she had a chance to turn around, a rough arm grabbed her from behind. It closed around her midsection, nearly cutting off her breath. “You bunch of meddling no-goods,” a man hissed in her ear. “I’ve had my fill of the lot of you.”
Every time she tried to scream, he tightened his hold until her head was swimmy and her ears popped. It seemed he carried her a good long ways before he climbed a wooden ladder, opened a short but wide door, and tossed her in. She landed on her knees. The puppy plopped from her arms onto the floor with a soft oof. She hadn’t realized she still held it.
The door closed. Her ears rang, but she could hear the man descend the ladder. The sound gave her some relief. She lay on her side and pulled the puppy close. It curled into her like the twins had when they were babies.
She heard the mother beagle’s frenzied howling. The howling stopped on a sharp yelp of pain. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and stuck her fingers in her ears. She didn’t want to think about what was happening to the dog.
Even with her fingers in her ears, she could hear the thump of the ladder against the bottom of the doorframe. The door opened with a screech, and the mother beagle sailed across the floor, landing on her feet like a cat.
“Here’s ye some company,” the man said. “Cur ain’t good for nothing no way.”
The door screeched shut on rusty hinges. Lilly could hear something shoved against the door. “See how you like two or three days up here,” she could hear him say as he descended. “Teach you lot to mind your own business.”
She cried really hard but not very loud, for she didn’t want the man to hear her. Who knew if he was still about? All she could think of were those three puppy bodies lying on the bank.
The beagle sat in front of her with her head cocked. She watched Lilly for a while, then came over and licked her tearstained face, like she was sorry to get her in this mess.
