“Are you sure? Is it okay?”
“I have never been more positive about anything, for such a long, long time.” Her face radiated her love and trust. “I was so afraid I would lose you if my secret were exposed. That is why I appeared to reject you. I felt ashamed. We can solve our other problems tomorrow. Tonight, I want us to be together,” Netty whispered, the unrestrained passion clear in her voice. “Trust me, it will make everything easier.”
Wil swept her up in his arms, his lips seeking hers. Fire exploded between them, breathless groans filled the room. Rising, they broke apart to bashfully beam at one another. Hope back in her heart, quixotic as life itself, Netty led Wil to her bedroom. With a quick wave to Baby, she delightedly shut the door and opened her mind to the possibility of a brand new life.
*
Wil and Netty woke very early the next morning. Netty stayed in bed while Wil rounded up Baby and went to turn out the Jerseys. They immediately returned to the bedroom where Netty waited. Wil jumped back into bed and together they watched Baby shuffle and bob over to the bed, clambering up to squeeze himself in between them. They burst out laughing, hugging Baby and smiling into each other’s eyes as they sparkled with life, the new easy intimacy of lovers a boon to their morning.
Wil and Netty’s life settled back down to the hard work they espoused. With Netty’s newly found confidence, she discovered new strength and tolerance toward her body. Wil gracefully accepted the inevitability of his changes with her guidance. Now, when their customers shopped at the vegetable stand, or accepted delivered produce, their new status tolled their love, loud as a church bell. Most were very happy for them, even as a few still sniffed at their sinful behavior.
Wil eventually managed to hire two new field hands to help him with the planting. The new hands joined them in the fields for picking, as Netty’s miracle seed continued to out-produce anything seen before. Extra time to devote to the baking and churning came easily, and their sizable increase in profits escalated the plan for the new bakery. Netty obsessively finished her work at night in time to join Wil in bed, often swatting Baby back to the kitchen. No matter what they did, though, Baby always found his way back to bed, wedged firmly between them. They agreed it was just too darn hard to say no to the lovable creature.
*
Fall descended on the farm like a grande dame preparing to replace her luxurious wardrobe for next season’s fashions. Wil was busy hiring Italian laborers who worked long hard hours to complete the bakery. With the completion of the foundation and walls, the two huge fieldstone ovens in the middle of the floor began to take shape. The space allowed Netty to cook a dozen pies at a time. Interior wood boxes allowed firewood to stay dry all winter. Wil’s design enabled Netty to better organize her utensils for maximum efficiency. They even discussed the merits of taking on an apprentice to help her in the bakery.
Miracle of miracles, on the day of Netty’s twenty fifth birthday, they discovered they were going to have a baby. Most would say pregnancy is unseemly unless you were married to the father. But Wil and Netty refused to accept conventional wisdom. Their jubilance merely gilded their perfect life. The more the bakery grew, the more Netty grew. She realized the time to look into her divorce had long passed. As much as she didn’t want their child to grow up a bastard, she wanted more than anything to be Mrs. Wil Capaccino.
Time continued to pass in a haze of laughter, hard work and love. A now seven months pregnant Netty necessarily slowed down. Her pregnancy began to show inevitable signs of difficulty. The constant vomiting worried her: she thought it should have stopped by now. She never felt like eating so she didn’t know how she even had anything to vomit up. She also developed a curious desire to lie in the sun, feeling it seep deep into her body and leaving her feeling enriched and less nauseous.
Wil and Baby were doing their best to cover for her. Wil helped with the pies and Baby made a stab at the churn. That was quite a sight. They found Baby never stopped giving them something to laugh about. They idly wondered how Baby would take to their impending bundle of joy, hoping he would celebrate along with them. After all, he was nothing if not joyful about new life.
Netty prepared to make a delivery to a neighbor about two miles down the road. She knew Farmer Neal from her schoolhouse when she was a child. His young wife was also pregnant. Netty wanted to make this delivery herself so she could spend some time with the farmer’s wife and compare pregnancies. She promised Wil this would be her last delivery over the bumpy roads.
The lovely March day beckoned, a promise of spring growth around the corner in time to celebrate the end of the construction of the bakery. It had taken every penny of their savings. Netty found herself busy making clothes and diapers for the baby, who would arrive in less than two months. They’d just finished converting the little addition Wil had put on the kitchen during his first year at the farm into a space for the baby’s crib. Wil had built the crib, of course, his excitement refused to be corralled.
Netty’s thoughts darkened as she remembered Wil complaining of an ache at the very small of his back. He hadn’t yet realized what it meant. With the joy of the baby’s arrival, she continually pushed away all thoughts of his impending tail. She hoped Wil would be better able to handle his change with the distraction of the baby. Oh well, she knew they would handle anything life threw at them. They were an unbeatable resilient team. How many more difficulties could God possibly throw their way?
Netty pulled up to the Neal farm after lunch, tying the wagon to the old hitch, the Neal’s shiny new Ford truck parked in front of their well-maintained barn. She didn’t plan to be more than an hour or so.
Knocking on the door, Mrs. Neal answered, inviting her in for tea and happily relieving her of her basket of fresh fruit. She sat in the elaborate kitchen of the Neal’s spacious home, quite luxurious by her own standards.
Farmer Neal had a huge herd of Jerseys with vast pastures, confided Ruthann, his wife, still eyeing the unbelievable size of the fruit in Netty’s gift basket. Obviously, they too worked hard for their prosperity.
Ruthann rattled on about the farm and their plans for the newborn. They enjoyed their tea and each other’s company as the hour passed.
As Netty rose to take her leave, she asked Ruthann if she might first use the privy. Laughing, Ruthann showed her the way out the back door. Netty knew she’d never have made it home without relieving herself; the baby was pressed uncomfortably against her bladder. Her stomach felt like a dead weight as the baby kicked her sharply.
Upon finishing her toilet, Netty returned to the house, letting herself in through the back door. She paused as she heard voices in the kitchen: men’s voices. She could hear them discussing business. Netty hesitated to interrupt and turned to let herself back out when she heard Robert’s name mentioned.
Now listening closely, she could make out something about raising the rent on the farm. She heard Mr. Neal object, saying Mr. Woods had never raised his rent this often. The other voice also sounded familiar.
Peeking around the corner, she saw none other than Eli, her husband’s man. He flailed his arms at Farmer Neal, insisting that the land belonged to Robert Doyle; the Neal family had little choice since they didn’t own the land.
Netty pressed herself tightly to the wall, hoping not to be seen. Her heart raced as she slowly backed out the door and ran around the house to the wagon. Clumsily, she pulled herself up as the front door opened and Eli appeared.
She backed the wagon away from the hitching post, hurrying away. Giving a quick glance back, she saw Eli standing there, just looking after her. Has he recognized me? Will the Neals say anything? Will Eli ask?
This was a bad omen. Not having to deal with Robert had allowed her the freedom to create a new life. This timing called an end to her good luck and peace of mind; but the Neals’ farm? They pay rent to Robert? Were there others? Actually, how big was two thousand acres?
Rushing back to the farm, she found Wil at the bakery, pai
nting it, while Baby played in the barn. Quickly, she related the news to Wil.
“You said two thousand acres? Netty, are you kidding me? I doubt the whole town is even one thousand acres. Netty, you are really rich. And that bastard of a husband is cheating you. He has obviously been collecting the rents from the lease-holders and the tenement farmers for years. We need to hire a lawyer as soon as we can to get him out of your life. He is stealing from you.”
“You do not know him, Wil, he is ruthless. He raped and murdered my mama. I do not think it will be that easy.”
“Do not worry, babe.” Wil rubbed her tummy and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “You have me now. And we have big ol’ Baby for backup.” He laughed as they spied Baby shuffling and wobbling toward them from the barn. Baby held something in his arms. A barn kitten. He’d discovered the mama cat giving birth five weeks ago and had made himself their protector. He proudly showed them off whenever Wil or Netty would pay attention. They each took a turn to admire the kitten. Baby shuffled off, heading back to the barn.
“Netty, why don’t I saddle Maggie and run into town? I can sit down with a lawyer and see where you stand legally.”
“Yes, that might be a good idea,” Netty considered carefully. “We need to get information right now. I am going to work on some pies in the kitchen then start dinner. Try to hurry home.” Netty kissed him goodbye and Wil hurried after Baby to the barn.
*
Netty finished the last of the pies. Sliding them into the oven to bake, she began peeling a four-pound potato for dinner. She heard the latch on the front door. Calling to Baby, she turned, her mouth freezing in mid-sentence. There stood Eli.
“How dare you come into my home? What do you want?” Her voice ricocheted indignantly.
“Well, well, Miz Doyle.” He leaned lazily against the back of the door, insolence defining his posture. “Sounds like yer not all that happy ta see me. Thought I would stop by before I head back to Norristown ta see how yer doin’.” Eli sauntered further into the room, his bulk blocking the door, cutting off her escape.
“I am sure the boss is gunna be happy to hear how well yer doin’ here, means he can sure get a better price for the land when he sells it to that fancy group from New York City.”
Netty attempted to prevent her shock registering on her face. Any weakness simply inflamed bullies.
Eli inched closer. “Don’t know how he’s gunna feel with you carryin’ that drifter’s bastard, though. Nah, he’s not gunna like hearin’ that a’tol.” Eli reached out, grabbing her elbow, and pulled her so close she could smell the stench of his breath.
“Thought I’d not recognize ya, gal? Ya sure look holier than thou with all that gold hair now, don’ cha?” He grabbed her pony tail, giving it a twist. He wrapped it around her throat, flipping her around, then came up behind her. She could feel his erection throbbing against her back.
“Please, Eli, my baby,” she whispered.
Eli dragged her over to the old straw bed and threw her down. She landed with a wince on her stomach. She could see him actually slobbering as he leered over her.
“Never wanted ta take a piece of ya when the boss said I could, but I sure think I’ll help myself to a piece right now.” Flipping her over on her back, he pulled down his pants. Netty tried to kick him, but he grabbed her leg, letting loose with a backhand across her face. Strangely, she felt no pain. But the baby felt different. Something must be wrong. She had to protect the baby.
“My baby, something is wrong. You need to go.” She tried to get up, causing Eli to use his foot on her stomach, shoving her back on the straw bed. She felt something pull loose in her womb. Shaking uncontrollably, she tried to shield her abdomen.
“God no, please. My baby.”
“Oh, ya gonna be nice, now? Thought ya might change yer mind when ya saw what a real man looked like. Let me hear ya say ya want it, Netty gal. Come on, let me hear it.” Eli raised his fist.
“Just get it over with, please.” Her voice was reduced to a whimper, and she tried to blank out her mind as Eli raped her. She could get through this. The baby would be fine, Eli would leave. She still had Wil and Baby. Baby. Oh my gosh; where is Baby? Baby, stay in the barn, please, she prayed silently.
Eli’s weight on top of her felt oppressive. She felt her stomach being compressed as he assaulted her in her most tender and private area. Her tail, wadded up under her waist, cramped from the painful crushing. As Eli finished, she felt blood pool between her legs.
“Oh no, oh no,” she moaned. Rolling off the bed, she tried to stand. Her legs buckled and down she went. Holding her stomach, she screamed at Eli. “I need a doctor, please help me.”
“Git that wop drifter a yur’s ta help. I gotta git back ta Norristown ta give the boss his rents. Ya weren’t worth da effort anyway. Ya better keep your trap shut now, hear?” Looking at the blood pooled around her, he sneered.
“What the heck?” Sniffing, he detecting the odor of sulfur that leached from her blood; blood that glimmered, not just red but distinct tones of effervescence. “Looks like ya got yourself a real problem, for Christ’s sake, gal.” Grimacing, he let himself out the door.
Netty touched the liquid pooling around her. It was very warm, and she could feel heat radiate from it. When she put her fingers in it, the blood parted, leaving her hand dry. What? She gathered her skirt, pressing into her groin to stop the flow. She felt something hitch inside her. She tried to remember when she’d last felt the baby move. It had to have been when Wil had left for town. She considered the color of her blood as she felt a slow dawning of terror, her pulse racing dangerously. What does it mean? Is this another of my changes? How will it affect the baby? Will the baby be normal? Her head was spinning. She had to calm down. Wil, where are you? Please, come home.
Netty rocked and held her skirt closely as she felt contractions. The baby was coming. No, it is too early, God please, I beg you. Tears silently streamed from twin pools of desperate anguish. Slowly, she pulled herself over to the bed to lie down. Just in time, as she felt another gush between her legs. Netty’s eyes rolled back in her head and she mercifully passed out.
*
Wil unhitched the wagon, leading the horse to his stall. Filling the water trough, he thought he should bring the Jerseys down from the pasture before he went in for dinner. That would enable him to linger with Netty before he did the milking. Rounding up Baby from his kitten protection detail in the hay loft, he saddled up Maggie and together they started out for the cow pasture trail. As Wil rounded up the Jerseys with Baby holding the gate open, he thought of the information supplied by the lawyer. It appeared they had a tough row to hoe. Even if they could prove their case of fraud, Robert Doyle now wielded a great deal of influence. He was the Norris County magistrate. That position entitled him to privileges in Sussex County where the subject property was. The rumor mill also suggested Robert owned many men in law enforcement, with those in town on his payroll as they engaged in distributing the bootleg rum made in his carriage house at Sunnydale.
Wil was not yet deterred. He really needed to discuss things with Netty first and planned to broach the subject after dinner. He didn’t want her to stress until after she ate. He rarely saw her put food in her mouth anymore. Well, at least she has not been losing weight.
Arriving at the barn, Baby slipped down from Maggie, dashing toward the hayloft. After giving Maggie a quick brush down and some oats, he collected Baby, pausing to admire the kittens at Baby’s insistence. Scooping Baby up and swinging him up on his shoulders, he left the barn.
Mounting the stoop, he noticed the cabin door was ajar.
Not a good idea, Wil thought. I will have to speak to Netty about that. Entering the cabin, he choked. The room was filled with smoke, the smell of burnt fruit pies and sulfur. Shooing Baby back out the door, he shouted for Netty. Running to the ovens, he opened the doors and pulled out the ruined pastries. Hearing a moan from the straw bed, he spied Netty lying there. A glowing
liquid seemed to be spread over the floor and down Netty’s legs. Her tail, with its ominous membrane, hovered helplessly over her head. In Netty’s arms lay what was left of their baby.
“I could not heal the baby,” Netty said in a tiny tin voice. She sounded empty and lost, clearly in shock.
Tears slipped down Wil’s face as he quickly ran to her side. Slipping to his knees, he put his hands on her head, smoothing back her damp hair. Her eyes were open but unfocused. She clung to their infant who was clearly dead, its skin blue underneath a sickly sheen of what appeared to be an effervescent membrane.
Netty focused on Wil and seemed to recognize him. Pitifully, she cried. “He raped me, Wil,” she whispered. “He hurt the baby. He hurt our baby.”
“Who was here, Netty? Who did this to you?” Wil’s face tightened bitterly, his guts contracting. He felt as though he could not breathe.
“It was Eli. He recognized me. It was my fault. I should have stayed home.” Netty curled up around her dead child, murmuring to it. Slowly, she sat up, her eyes feverish.
“Baby, where is he? He can save the baby. He can bring him back.” Scooting to the edge of the bed, she staggered to her feet, weaving to the door and calling for Baby. She fell to the floor as she lost her footing, Wil running to her side. The door opened to Baby sitting on the stoop where Wil had left him. Netty held the infant in her arms, offering her dead child to the creature.
“You can do it, Baby, I have tried, but nothing happened. But you can do it, Baby, you know how.” Netty dissolved into incoherent tears as Baby just stared, unmoving. Wil tried to drag her back into the cabin, but she resisted. “Baby, please. You have to help me,” she shouted hysterically. Turning to Wil, she begged, “Please get Baby to help me. He will listen to you.”
Colorful auras flashed, iridescence mixed with pressure. The whispers tried to calm her. “Sister, I cannot. The life is already gone.”
Alien Species Intervention: Books 1-3: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609) Page 10
