by Caryl McAdoo
“Want me to wake her up?”
“Sure. But let Josie Jo sleep if you can work that out.”
Alicia did, then with the little one on her hip, went in search of Gabby. She found her friend standing on the creek's edge, staring into the water.
“It's a little chilly for a swim.”
The older girl spun. “Hey, sweet girl. Get your nap out?”
“No.” Katie Kay buried her face in Alicia's shoulder.
“Her mama didn't want her sleeping too late.”
“Nothing worse than a fussy three-year-old at bedtime. At least that's what I've heard tell.” She touched her belly. “Guess I'll be finding out for myself before too long.”
Alicia hiked the baby higher on her hip then eased closer. “When did you know for sure? Have you figured out when it should get here?”
“Well, let me see now. The first month I missed . . . hmm.” She shrugged. “Thought something was up, but then me and Junior were . . . you know . . . most every night, so . . .” She shrugged. “The second month, I suspected it, and that's when I told him. He run off the next day.”
“I'm so sorry. You must have been so scared.”
“Yeah, so anyway, it was hotter than blue blazes back then. Probably June or early July I figure, so I’d say late March, early April.”
“Wow, it's almost November. That makes you four or five months along. So only four or five to go.”
“Doesn't seem that long.”
“Do you know when Izzy's due?”
“It'd have to be about the same time.”
Her friend looked over at her with a sly grin. “I suspect you'll be joining the ranks of impregnated ladies soon enough now.”
“Oh, I don't know. I'm only a few days late.”
“You're late? You're late? Oh, Alicia! That's so exciting!”
“Were you hungry all the time?”
She laughed. “I'm not sure when that started, but I sure am now. I didn't get sick much like Izzy, but I'm liable to gain a ton, the way I've been wolfing food down.”
Alicia loved having someone her age to talk to. But something had been wrong with Gabby for a while now. Her smiles weren't as big and seemed like there was always a tinge of sadness tinting her eyes. “Have you been feeling bad, Gabby? Is something wrong?”
“Uh . . . no! Why would you say that?”
“Oh, you just haven't been your cheerful self for a while. But I figured you'd tell me if something was bothering you.”
Her friend raised her shoulders toward her ears and grinned. “You mean besides me expecting my cousin's baby? You know, they have a bad word for what he's going to be. Poor little thing. Weren't his fault.” She inhaled a deep breath.
“Oh, don't be thinking on that. No one has to know. I won't ever say anything to anyone. I promise you that.”
Gabby stepped close and hugged both her and Katie Kay. “Might ought to see if we can help with supper.”
Corbin finished his stew and yams then ate his roll with the sopped-up molasses for dessert. Could the widow cook as good as her sister-in-law?
Didn't matter all that much. He'd eat hard tack and jerky seven days a week if that's what it took. They claimed a man's stomach was the way to his heart, but that old wives' saying wasn't true in his case.
Thought sure enough he'd loved that tramp of wife he had before. But the emotions inside . . . what he experienced then didn't hold a candle to what his heart told him about Liberty Hope.
She was a fine lady, one to be cherished. Reagan knew it, too. He'd seen the way he looked at her . . . and the way Libby looked back, too.
If only one day . . .
Hope. The perfect middle name. He really liked it. He surely hoped hard that one day Liberty would see her way clear to make him the happiest man alive.
“Well, Corbin.”
The male voice pulled him from his ruminations.
“I've been thinking about your barn idea.”
Giving his attention to the one his Liberty called the general, he came into the moment and nodded at Seve. “Yes, sir. Come to any conclusions?”
“Seems to me we should build it a pull—through. With double doors on the east and west, the north side totally enclosed, and the south open where we can back the wagons up into the thing. You ever built a barn that size?”
“Yes, sir. My pap made his living in carpentry. I've worked timber off and on. Farmed more than anything, but even then, I'd take on a project whenever I had the time.”
“Excellent. Laud, Flynn, and I, we've thrown up cabins, but a big barn is definitely a mule of a different color.”
“Yes, sir. Now, if what we've heard is true, I was thinking of oak for the main poles then mortise and tendon in the beams, rafters and joist.”
Laud inserted himself into the conversation. “You know how to do that?”
“Yes, sir. Not hard at all if you have the right tools. Once you pin the joint, they're there.”
“Sounds good.” Flynn nodded. “So it's settled then? We're building us a big barn first thing?”
“I vote yes.” Seve stood. “What's everyone's pleasure? Anyone have any more input? Ladies?”
“I loved the idea of having it to use while we build the cabins, then turning it into a church.”
Mallory rose and stood beside her husband, her arm wrapped around his. “Me, too. I liked the part about having shelter and plenty of time to think about where we want to place our cabins. We'd all have changed where we put them in Tennessee after not long at all. But they were already built.”
“It'll be fun living in a barn.” Charity Grace twirled.
“Yeah.” Aaron glanced sideways at his big sister. “Stormy said he's going to love it.”
General Van Zandt eyed his son.
“What, Pa?”
It definitely seemed to Liberty that Corbin floated out to the little fire he'd built, carrying her rocker and his chair. It certainly pleased her to no end that the vote had been unanimous on his barn idea.
And the more he'd talked, the more apparent to everyone that he knew exactly how to construct a huge pole barn. And it would keep them—and their seed and other belongings—dry though the winter.
Waiting until he had everything ready, she held out her hand for him to help her down into her rocker. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“You're welcome. Did you see Gabby when she and Alicia came in carrying Katie Kay?”
“No, sir. I guess I must not have noticed. Was something wrong?”
“Don't know.” He shrugged. “Just looked to me my baby was about to burst out crying any minute. She got better at supper, but not a lot.”
“Keep on praying for her, but . . .” Could she say more without betraying her or Izzy's confidence? Wasn't like he was her husband, not yet anyway.
“But what? Do you know something?”
“I do.” She nodded. “But I can't say anything. Not now. You know I'm praying Gabrielle will make the right decision.”
“Me, too.”
That night she read a couple of chapters from Second Samuel then closed her Bible. “What do you think about starting over at the beginning?”
“Sure. I been reading Proverbs every day. Did you know there's thirty-one? So, you can read a chapter a day and read the whole book in a month. That Solomon was a wise man.”
“You don't say!” She laughed. “He was wise, indeed, but also so foolish!”
“You think? How so?”
“Well, how about we finish with David and Solomon then we'll start over at the beginning in Genesis.”
“You're not going to tell me, are you?”
“Well now, Mister Harrell, I wouldn't want to spoil the story for you.”
That night after Charity Grace gave it up—not that the eleven-year-old had any trouble sleeping—Liberty got out her journal.
Day Twenty-eight
Thursday Oct 22, 1840
~ + ~
“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart
; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6
Made Pilot Grove Creek today. Seve has us right on track, but then the trail that others blazed is not that hard to follow.
We've seen a few folks now and again, but no towns or settlements of any kind since Mount Pleasant. Been nagging me some about us being out in the middle of nowhere, but that's the price we pay for getting so much good land for free and close together.
Seve thinks we’ll get there in three, no more than four days if the weather holds. Glory to God! This journey will be done, and we’ll be to our new home.
Her feather hovered over the page. Anticipation of the long journey's end thrilled her, but dread over letting Izzy hurt her in order to heal her poor seater kept her from being overjoyed.
The fear and expectancy had battled in her mind every day since Corbin told her of the cure. Shame Reagan wouldn't be there to hold her hand.
The man truly babied her. She loved the way he cared for her. Then again, he might not be able to stand being there while Izzy did it to her. Both times when the babies came, he'd stayed outside, but then the midwife and Mallory insisted he stay out of the way.
What a blessing having a friend like her Mal.
A tinge of regret nipped her heart. Of late, she'd not been spending much time at all with her friend. She’d have to make it a point to spend a whole evening with her before the clan arrived in their new home.
Corbin wouldn't like it, but . . .
Though there was so much more she wanted to write in her journal, she decided putting her heart on the page might not be for the best. She stowed it all away, snuffed the light, then scooted to the back of the wagon and eased the flap back.
A starry night. Was Reagan watching down on her? Was he disappointed? Hmm, no tears in Heaven. Was being disappointed even allowed there? Would he be happy for her and Charity Grace?
The Scripture talked about a great cloud of witnesses. She'd heard that consisted of neither angels nor regular men, but the elders, like Adam and Moses, Enoch, Methuselah, and Noah. Those men. Who knew for sure what was right?
Just then a star shot across the sky leaving a trail from east to west. What a sight!
Flynn saw the same shooting star. After it flamed out, he bent down and rubbed behind the dog's ear. “You see that, boy?”
The mutt pressed into his hand.
“Uh, no answer, huh?” Flynn gave him another rub then straightened and continued his stroll around the campsite. Halfway, a sob pulled him up short.
The mutt loped on, but he eased ahead until he spotted Gabby, sitting beside the water, her knees drawn up with her head resting on them. She had one hand on the dog's head.
“Something wrong, Gabby?” He stepped closer. “You hurt?”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Flynn cleared his throat. “Are you hurt?” He stepped closer.
The young lady shook her head.
“What's wrong then?”
She pulled her hand off the dog, then hugged herself tighter.
“Should I go get your pap or Izzy?”
A sob escaped . . . then another before she found a whisper. “Please, go away, Flynn.”
The sliver of moon illuminated her enough to see she wasn't bleeding or anything. He stared at her for a bit. Poor thing. The sadness in her voice made him want to hold her, tell her everything would be all right, but he couldn't do that.
“Something's wrong, and I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what it is, Gabrielle. Now I'd be happy to go get one of the women for you. Want me to fetch Alicia?”
“No! Not her!” Her head bobbed back and forth ten or twelve times, then she turned on her knees and glared. “She's my true-blue friend. The first one I ever had, and . . . I'm . . . I'm going to lose her.”
He chuckled then did his best to make it sound like a cough. “That's just crazy. How in the world could you come to that conclusion? Don't you know she feels the same way about you?”
“She won't after she knows.” She turned back around and hugged her knees again, staring out at the river.
“Knows what?”
“That I tried to steal you from her that night in Charlotte.”
“Why would you ever say anything about that? It's in the past. Long gone. No reason to hurt her with that. Or cause trouble between us since I never told her, either. Just keep quiet.”
“I can't. I want to. You have no idea how bad I want to, but God won't let me. I have to confess my sins, but . . . at the same time, I can't stand to tell her. I just can't. I've tried.” She broke down again.
Oh, great. How could he argue with her saying God wanted her to?
No matter what he wanted or how bad he hoped that could stay in the past, sure looked like there wasn't any way to protect Alicia from it. “Well, you be sure to tell her I sent you away.”
“Of course, I'd tell her that!” She stood and glared again. “I was the one who did wrong! You're Mister Goody-Two-Shoes. She won't hate you, she'll only hate me!”
‘Hate me’ rang like a soundless echo in the silence of the night between them.
“Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.” A heavy sigh escaped, and he shifted his weight. “You're glad now though, aren't you?”
“About what?”
“That I sent you away.”
“Oh yes, that makes me so happy now, Flynn!” Her tone still carried anger. Were all pregnant women so wishy-washy with emotions like rolling hills? She looked up. “I know! You could tell her! That's it! She's got to know about it, and you . . .”
She stepped closer, but he retreated step for step. “Will you?”
“I don't want to tell her. Remember? I don't want her to know at all.”
“But she's got to. Please, please do it. We didn't do anything. And she and I weren't that good of friends back then. Well . . . sorta, but not best friends. Not like now. Oh please, Flynn. Maybe if Alicia hears it coming from you, she won't hate me.”
“Gabby, you can't ask me to do that. No. Forget it. Like you said, nothing happened. And you have my word I'll never say anything about that night.”
Holding her hands out, palms up, she looked straight at him. “Please, don't you see? I want what Pap's got. And the Lord is heavy on my heart about my sins. She has to know, and I can't bring myself to tell her. Please help me.”
What could he say? If the Lord convicted her . . . “Did you get saved?”
“I don't know. I did what your mam said to, and hope I am, but I may not be until this is done. It's tearing my heart apart. I can't stand the thought of losing Alicia, but she's got to know. It can't be between us, and I need her to forgive me. Please do it for me. Help me stay her friend.”
“She may hate us both.”
“She'd never hate you. Ease her into it. Make her understand I was so tore up about Junior running off and Pap being drunk all the time then the baby coming on top of that. I was crazy. I knew it was wrong, but . . . Please. You can make her understand. I know you can. She loves you so much. Please, I'm begging you.”
He hated her begging him, but she was probably right. Him telling her might give Alicia a chance to think things through before saying something she might regret. “I don't want to. But I will.”
“Oh, thank you!” She ran toward him, her arms outstretched.
But he dodged her. “Don't be touching me.”
“Yes! You're right! I was wrong again, but I'm just so grateful!” She sucked her lungs full. “Thank you, Flynn! Tell her to please not to hate me. And how I need her forgiveness.”
“I will. Now get on back to your wagon, and don't be out here on my watch again. Last thing I need is for us to be seen together talking alone in the middle of the night.”
Alicia didn't understand. All that day then into the evening, Flynn had been so quiet, pensive even. She'd never ever seen him like that and didn't like the distance he kept from her. Though she'd given him the
benefit of doubt, hoping he'd open up all day long, but she refused to wait one minute longer now that she had him alone in the wagon.
“So, Mister O'Neal, what in the world has you vexed so?”
“What makes you think I'm vexed?”
“Mostly because I have two eyes in my head. You've been moody and distant all day. I know something's happened, and I want to know what it is.” She placed her hand atop his, tracing his finger knuckles. “And don't you dare try to tell me nothing's wrong.”
Pulling his hand back, he pulled off his boots then sat cross-legged on the pallet. “Well now, seems you can read me like a book.”
“But of course!” She giggled. “But that isn't any kind of answer, husband. What's troubling you? Might as well stop stalling and tell me.”
“First off, I've been rehearsing all day how I should say this thing, because I promised I would—even though I thought it best not to. But here goes.” He cocked his head a smidgen and gave her a goofy little boy grin.
She didn't know whether to slug him or kiss him, but the kissing would only lead to other things, and she wanted him to spit it out. She put both hands cupped behind each ear. “I'm listening, my beloved.”
“Yes, but second off, please promise to forgive me for not telling you sooner—when it happened. At the time, I thought it best you not know, but here it is.” His little boy grin vanished. “The night Papa and me played for that big shindig in Charlotte . . .” He nodded like he wanted her to say something.
Oh no, this sounded like it might be bad. “Yes. I remember the party. What of it?” What could it be that he'd kept secret from her all that time? He was starting to make her mad.
“Well, that night after everything was all over—you remember we had two wagons there from hauling in the cotton.”
“Yes, Flynn! Would you just get it out?”
“I slept in one and Papa in the other. We'd stacked the seed sacks in a horseshoe, then draped the tarp over them to sleep under. Anyway, I was twenty winks or so in, when Gabby knocks on my side board.”
