Maggie Meets Her Match

by McLeod, Dinah

  “Don’t argue with me, Maggie,” he ordered in a gruff voice that made the idea seem very foolish indeed. Taking my elbow, he guided me back inside the house and into the bedroom.

  “I’ll be fine,” I protested as he gently pushed me down on the bed.

  “Maggie,” he said, his tone warning. “If you mean to rest, you can rest in your bed. I won’t hear another word.”

  I pressed my lips together to silence my protests, but I wasn’t happy about it. I tried to close my eyes, but my head was still spinning like a top. I didn’t even notice Clay leave, but when he came back with a glass of water in hand, I drank it gratefully. “I’m feeling better,” I told him in a small voice after I finished the glass.

  “Stand up and let me have a look at you.”

  I was getting to my feet when a wave of light-headedness washed over me, causing me to wobble on my unsteady feet.

  “Whoa there. Take it easy and lay back down. I’m gonna go get the doc.”

  “Clay, really, that’s not—”

  “Shush, Maggie and obey your husband.”

  I didn’t wait to be told twice—I feared he might use something other than words next time to make his point clear. I settled back against the pillows, looking at the ceiling that seemed to be spinning. I closed my eyes against the sight, but my head still felt like it was swirling. The more I fought against the headache that threatened, the stronger it became. I didn’t know how long I lay there, waiting, but by the time Clay came back I was whimpering in pain.

  “She’s in here, Doc. Maggie, look who’s come to see you.”

  It took all I had to raise my head and offer a feeble smile. “Howdy.”

  “Hello there, Miz Callahan. What seems to be ailin’ you?”

  “I have a headache,” I admitted, feeling foolish to be complaining of something so trivial.

  “I see. And your husband says you fainted?”

  I shot a glance at Clay, who looked back at me balefully. “I didn’t faint, I just feel a little unsteady, is all.”

  “Alright, well, let’s take a look. Mister Callahan, could you give us the room?”

  As soon as Clay left, the doctor got busy putting his hand on my head, feeling my throat and asking all manner of questions that didn’t make any kind of sense to me. Knowing my husband would expect it of me, I did my best to answer them all.

  “Well, I’d say for now the best thing to do is to stay off your feet and rest.”

  I was focused more on my headache than what he was saying and I nodded, murmuring a pained “thank you” before shutting my eyes again. As far as I could tell, having the doctor come out had been a waste of time. And if I knew my husband, he’d be using some of the deer meat to pay for this house call. I silently cursed my bad luck, listening to the sounds of the doctor and Clay talking outside the door. I had just begun to drift off when Clay burst into the room.

  With a gasp, I bolted up in the bed, taking in his bright eyes and mile-wide grin. “What is it? You gave me a fright!”

  “I’m sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to spook you. Just spoke with Doc and he gave me the news.”

  I shook my head from side to side, trying to figure out what his giddy expression meant. “I’m to stay in bed.”

  “For some time, I’d imagine. And take it easy, Doc made that perfectly clear. Why, in your condition… and after what happened, of course, we don’t want to take any chances.”

  I blinked at him in confusion. What on God’s green earth was he goin’ on about? “My condition?”

  “Maggie!” He took in my face and laughed, shaking his head. “You didn’t hear not one word he said, did you?”

  I could feel my cheeks warm in embarrassment as I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

  “In the future, you should mind your manners and listen to what Doc says, y’hear? Especially now.”

  I nodded dutifully. “Yes, I understand. But what is it? Aren’t you goin’ to tell me?”

  “I don’t know that I should,” he said thoughtfully, stroking his mustache. “If you’d been listenin’ like you were supposed to…”

  “Clay, please, don’t tease me!”

  “Alright then.” He surprised me by kneeling on the floor by my bedside and taking my hand in his. “Maggie Callahan, my beautiful wife, you’re goin’ to be a mother soon.”

  It took some time for his words to sink in. Even though I’d heard him just fine and understood what he’d said, it just didn’t seem to apply to me. Surely, he’d heard the doctor wrong. “Are you sure?” I asked at last.

  My husband threw back his head and laughed. “That’s it? That’s all you want to know? I know the doc’s sure. That’s good enough for me.”

  “But how?” I asked, my mind whirling. It wasn’t possible. Why, it had only been a month, maybe five weeks since our loss.

  “He says you’re about three months. It looks like you were carryin’ two babies and when you, ah, well, when you began to bleed, you lost one. But the doc says you’re still carryin’ a baby.” He sat patiently, watching my face until the news settled on me proper.

  When it did, I looked at him with eyes filled with wonder. Was it really possible? Could it be a mistake? But no, when I looked back, I knew that my breasts had stayed tender, and my waist cincher was fittin’ tighter around me all the time, even though I hadn’t been eatin’ sweets. “A baby.”

  “A baby,” he echoed, squeezing my hand. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

  “I can hardly believe it.”

  “I know just what you mean. But I trust Doc, he’s a smart man.”

  I nodded my agreement, my head spinning for an altogether different reason now. I could hardly wrap my mind around it all. I’d been so sad for so long and now, this… it was just too good to be true.

  “Before we go celebratin’, I want to make a few things understood.” His eyes locked onto mine, serious and stern. “The doctor made it very clear that you need to be sure to rest, drink lots of water and you are not allowed to overdo things. That means light chores, no more moving the furniture around or anythin’ like that.”

  “But I have to clean behind the—”

  “If you need something done, wife, you will come to me. Otherwise, your bottom will pay for it. I have a brand new hairbrush to use on your bottom, don’t think I won’t. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, it’s just that—”

  “I won’t hear another word on the matter, sweetheart. It’s settled. You’re to take it easy—don’t go wearin’ yourself out. It’s not good for you, or the baby. After what happened before, you really need to rest up and stay healthy.”

  I knew he was right. We both only wanted what was best for the baby. “I understand.”

  “That sounds like a thumper to me, Mags.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “No, it’s not. I understand, I heard you. I won’t overdo it.”

  “Good.” He leaned forward and kissed me before resting his forehead against mine. “Just think, pretty soon we’ll have a little ‘un around here and you can run yourself ragged, if you want. So enjoy it while you can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

  * * *

  I tried to keep my promise to Clay, truly I did, but it was harder than I’d thought it would be. He helped me with the chores as best as he could, but I could see right off we had a different way of doin’ things. He’d tended to the house all the years he’d lived here alone, so he thought it was fine to let a few cobwebs gather along the ceiling and for the floors to be scrubbed only once in a while.

  It was more clear than ever that he’d needed a wife and now I wasn’t even allowed to do what a wife should. It was doubly vexing because along with the growing life inside me—that I’d finally allowed myself to believe was real—I was burning up with a desire that I couldn’t quite explain to make the house clean from top to bottom. There was nothing to be done for it, though. Clay kept a very close wa
tch on me. The minute I even thought about scrubbing behind the furniture, I’d find his scolding eyes on me.

  It felt like about all I got to do nowadays was sit in the rocking chair and knit. I’d already made enough socks to keep our baby’s feet warm for a year and was now working on a set for Mabel. What was worse was the way the chair numbed my bottom after sitting awhile. I wanted to get up out of that darned chair, but Clay would only allow it for short periods of time. I secretly thought that he was becoming as fretful as an old hen, but I knew better than to share my thoughts.

  I sighed, setting down my knitting and looking with longing outside the window. It was a bright, sunny day and the sky looked to be perfectly blue from where I sat. I wanted nothing more than to be out in the fresh air, smelling the sweet flowers I loved so much. “Clay…”

  “Hmm?”

  “I was thinkin’… maybe I could go out for a short stroll this afternoon?”

  “I don’t know, Maggie. You know what the doctor said.”

  Of course I knew. He didn’t let me forget it for even a second. “I know, but it might do some good. It can’t be good for the baby to be cooped up like this.” I’d hoped that argument might sway him, but when he looked at me with an eyebrow raised, my spirits plummeted. I knew then he was bound and determined that I stay put.

  “The baby’s gonna be cooped up for some time. I don’t know that you not bein’ cooped up helps the baby at all.”

  I lowered my eyes so he didn’t see my scowl. I plumb gave up—that man was stubborn as a mule!

  “Oh, before I forget, I invited the new preacher and his wife to come for supper tomorrow night.”

  My head jerked up in surprise. “You what?”

  “Yeah, I ran into him in town the other day and we got to talkin’. Turns out, he’s from Jefferson and you know I lived there for some years.”

  I nodded, only half-hearing him. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Him and his wife. I tell ya, it’ll be nice to talk to someone from—”

  “Here, to the house?”

  He paused and I could see he didn’t like being interrupted. “Why, Maggie, where else would I invite him?”

  “But… but the house is a mess!” I cried out. “You can’t mean to have guests. Why, I won’t allow it, Clayborn!”

  That did it. Both eyebrows shot up as he met my glare. “Beggin’ your pardon? I apologize for not talkin’ to you about it sooner, but I’ve invited him here, and they’ve already agreed to come. Now I suggest you calm down.”

  “How can I calm down?” I demanded. “You… you should have asked me! Now, I have to polish the sugar bowl and cook and clean the—”

  “Settle down, Maggie. I doubt the preacher gives one whit about what our sugar bowl looks like.”

  “But his wife will,” I insisted.

  “Look here, you’re not soundin’ very neighborly, and I’ll thank you to change that attitude, and that tone, unless you want to take a trip over my knee.”

  I scowled at him, but it didn’t make a bit of difference. Finally, I looked away, feeling frustrated tears pool in my eyes. He just didn’t understand. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t know what it was like to know you had company over and know that there were cobwebs on your ceiling. He probably didn’t even know we had cobwebs on the ceiling! Men—if it wasn’t horses or crops, they didn’t pay any mind at all.

  “I’ve got to run out for a while to look after the farm.”

  It was on my tongue to ask if Silas, the boy he’d hired to help out, wasn’t here when I realized that this was my chance. If he left, I’d actually get a bit of freedom and maybe I could even do a chore or two—surely, he’d never even notice.

  “Alright.”

  Clay eyed me suspiciously and I did my best to school my features so that my excitement didn’t show. It must have worked, because after a moment, he nodded. “I want you to go lie down and rest. I’ll be back in a little while and I’ll get supper started.”

  I pouted—after all, I’d been sittin’ in a rocking chair, doing nothing all morning—but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to say anything and risk distracting him from leaving. I made a show of walking to the bedroom, but the minute I heard the door swing closed behind him, I froze, listening to the heavy tread of his boots as he walked down the porch. Only then did I spring into action.

  It felt so good to be on my feet! I never thought I would envy women that got to do chores, but I’d been itchin’ to make myself useful. I surveyed the house, trying to see what Clay would be least likely to notice. There were the cobwebs, but there was so many other things to be done. The floor needed to be swept and there would be no better time to scrub behind the couch.

  I set to work doing those things immediately, promising myself I’d stop if I felt the least bit tired. I didn’t feel tired—I felt invigorated with the task, determined to get my house clean once more. I kept peeking at the door as I swept the floors, but when I moved the couch to clean behind it, I became so focused on what I meant to do that I lost track of time. When I finished, I surveyed the room with a smile. Things were moving along nicely, now only if I had enough time to get to those cobwebs. I eyed the one in the corner and thought about how to best get to it. Moving the rocking chair would be the easiest way to reach it and would save time so that after I finished I could go lie down like Clay had told me to.

  That decided, I got a fresh rag and climbed up into the rocking chair. The one thing I hadn’t planned on was not being able to reach the cobweb. Stretching up on my tiptoes allowed me to reach it, but seemed a bit dangerous. If I could just be quick about it…

  I stretched my hand toward the ceiling and had just managed to brush against the cobweb when my foot slipped. Before I could steady myself, the chair rocked, throwing me backward. I tried to find something to grab onto, but it happened so fast. To my surprise, I didn’t end up on the floor as I bumped into a solid object on my way down. When I felt strong arms around my waist, there was no doubt in my mind as to who it could be.

  I felt relieved to not have fallen, but at the same time, dread filled me, knowing that I had been caught and Clay would be angry with me. Summoning every ounce of courage I could find, I turned around and faced my husband. I had guessed it rightly—he was angry. I could see it in the way his eyes flashed, the way he held himself so stiffly, and most of all, because he wasn’t talking to me.

  Instead, he pointed a hand to the bedroom and I scampered to obey. He followed me to the door and watched as I climbed into the bed. When I’d slipped under the sheets, he turned and left without a word.

  “Clay? Where are you…” I trailed off, realizing that he wasn’t inclined to answer. Maybe he was giving me another chance? But even as the thought occurred to me, I dismissed it. I saw it in his face—there would be no second chance, he was probably just too mad to punish me right now. The thought made me shudder. Why was I always doing things to get myself in trouble?

  I settled into bed, hoping merciful sleep might claim me, but I had no such luck. I wanted to be watching the minute Clay came into the room. Since I couldn’t sleep, I tried to think of what I would say when he came to me. He had to, sooner or later, didn’t he?

  It seemed like hours before he finally came back to the bedroom. When he did, he paused in the doorway, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite make out. He was upset, surely, but… was he also sad? How could that be?

  “Stand up, Maggie.” His voice cut through the silence even though the order was issued quietly and I hurried to obey. Only when I had did he walk toward the bed. Once there, he sat down and pulled me to stand between his thighs. “What am I going to do with you?”

  I winced at how wrung out he sounded. I’d known he’d be mad at me, but this dismay I hadn’t counted on. “Clay, I—”

  “Please, don’t trouble yourself. I know what you’ll say. You always tell me you’re sorry, but then the next time I’m turnin’ around, you’re doing exactly as you please
anyhow.”

  “But, if you’ll just let me explain.”

  “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

  I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Truth be told, I hadn’t expected to be given the chance to defend myself, and now that it was here I knew that I had no defense to offer. “It was foolish,” I admitted, looking down at my toes. “I know that now, but you said the preacher and his wife were comin’ and I guess I just…”

  “I see. So this is my fault then?”

  I looked back up, my eyes wide. “No, that’s not what I’m sayin’. It’s my fault. You told me to go to bed and I didn’t. But Clay, you can’t have people over and not let me clean the house! Think of what kind of tales that woman would tell if she came here and my house was a mess!”

  “She’s the preacher’s wife, Maggie. I doubt she’ll go spreadin’ gossip.”

  “She’s a woman,” I scoffed.

  “That’s enough!”

  Hearing the irritation in his voice wiped the meek submissiveness right out of me. I was more determined than ever to make him understand—I couldn’t live the next six months like this. “It’s fine for you, you’re a man, no one thinks poorly of you if the house is a pigsty! But what about me?”

  “I told you I would take care of anythin’ that needed doin’. You chose not to listen and to do what suited you. We are not going to have a marriage like that.”

  “No, I s’pose we’ll have a marriage where you never listen to a darned thing I say!”

  Clay’s brow furrowed as he looked at me. “Is that what you really think?”

  “Yes, that’s what I think!” I burst out. “You treat me like a prisoner! I’m not allowed to get out of bed or the chair. I can’t even go outside!”

  “You’re carryin’ our baby, Maggie.”

  “And thousands of women have carried them before, Clayborn, and they’re still here to tell about it!”

  “Now, that’s enough of that sass, if you please.”

  I swallowed hard at the warning in his voice. I really was good at workin’ myself in deeper, wasn’t I?

  “I don’t care how many women have had babies. They weren’t my wife, and they weren’t carryin’ my child. Yes, I’ve been havin’ you rest, just like the doc said I should do. I’m not gonna apologize for doin’ what’s best for you.”