Milk Maid in Heaven

by Samantha Jillian Bayarr

  “When I was a little girl, my mom took me to church and told me about God and how he created the world. She told me about Adam and Eve, Jonah and Noah over and over, as many times as I would beg her to repeat the stories.” The corners of her mouth turned up as she reminisced.

  “What about your father? I’m not sure

  I remember him going with you.”

  “No. Never once do I remember my father going to church or talking about God. Up until she died, my mother and I would go to that big white church with the tall white steeple on the corner of Main Street downtown. You remember that church, don’t you?”

  “I remember being there for the funeral, and how afraid I was to go near the casket. Weren’t we nine or something at the time?” Susan asked.

  “I never knew that’s why you wouldn’t go up to see her with me. You know, I was mad at you for the longest time because of that?”

  “I knew you were mad, Em, but I couldn’t help it, I was just a kid…sorry.”

  Emily shook her head. “I can’t believe how many years ago that was. You know, come to think of it, I remember my Aunt Lilly having to practically force my father into the church at my mother’s funeral. After her death, I don’t think my father knew what to do with me. I guess that’s why he sent me off to boarding school that year.”

  “That was the worst year of my life. I hated being at the public school without you.”

  Emily wiped a fresh tear from her cheek. “Yeah, I remember how happy I was to come home. My father was never the same though. We haven’t been very close since.”

  “Maybe things will get better between you while you’re home,” Susan said, offering enthusiasm to her friend.

  “I doubt it. He seems awfully chummy with one of the prison workers, though.” Emily’s voice showed a sudden hint of anger.

  “What are you talking about, Em?”

  “Nothing, I hope. You know my father has never really had any close friends to speak of. Yet he spoke highly of this man last night when I was working with him.”

  “Did he actually let you near the prisoners?”

  “Yes and no. He’s never allowed me anywhere near the dairy when they were working—you know that. My first night back, I got as far as the office and had to stay there until the prisoners moved on to the other building. Last night, though, he let me go in the milking parlor, but he kept an eye on me like I was still a little girl.”

  “So what’s so special about this prisoner?”

  “My father said his name is Mitch Rutherford.” Emily rolled her eyes. “He talks about him as though he’s his best friend—and we both know my father has never had one of those!”

  “Do you wonder about your father’s state of mind, becoming so close to a prisoner like that?”

  “I don’t know, Susan. For all I know, it could be good for him to have a friend. Why he picked a convict, though, I don’t know. The man didn’t seem to be conniving in any way, but he sure seems like a waste of a good-looking man.”

  Susan raised her eyebrows. “Oh, so he’s good looking, is he, Em?”

  “The first night I saw him, he had a long, scruffy beard—he looked pretty disgusting. But last night he was clean-shaven, which gave him a slightly less-threatening look.”

  Susan cocked her eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s the same guy?”

  “Those eyes of his were a dead give-away.” Emily suppressed a smile.

  “His eyes, huh? He was that good looking? I think I want to get a look for myself!”

  The two giggled like schoolgirls.

  “Don’t get any funny ideas, Susan. He’s a convict. For all we know, he could be a murderer.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Susan said, waving a hand at Emily. “They don’t let murderers out on work-release; they keep a closer eye on the dangerous ones.”

  Emily frowned. “I suppose you’re right. But I’m not sure I like the idea of my father being so friendly with the man.”

  “That isn’t really your business, though, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t.” Emily sighed heavily, resting her elbows on the kitchen table, cupping her face in her hands.

  “So, back to our original question.”

  “Which was?”

  “How to get my father to go to church with me while I’m here.”

  “Praying would be a good place to start,” Susan said.

  Emily nodded, and the two rejoined their hands before praying.

  “Father in Heaven,” Emily began. “Your word says that where two or more are gathered, you will be in their midst and hear their prayers. Hear our prayer now for my father’s salvation. Help me to plant seeds of faith in him so that you may grow the tree of eternal life in him. Place others in his path that will share your words of wisdom with him. Though he is only my earthly father, I love him. Help me to find ways to gain a closer relationship with him before he dies. If it is not your will to heal him, then I pray that you will allow him enough time on this earth to come to know you more and accept your word for the truth that it is. If he does go home to be with you in Heaven, I pray that you will keep him from suffering any more physical pain than he has already. Thank You, Lord for the awesome sacrifice your son made for us. In Jesus name we pray, Amen.”

  “Amen,” Susan said quietly.

  Neither of them moved for several minutes, but continued to hold hands—eyes closed. Emily felt a sudden rush of peace sweep over her that left her with a lighter load on her shoulders.

  ****

  Mitch had barely slept. And before he realized, it was again time to return to the dairy farm for work. Though he wasn’t looking forward to working over night in the cold, he entertained the prospect of seeing Ethan’s daughter again. Lacking a restful sleep, he felt physically drained, yet mentally invigorated as he thought of Emily.

  Just before lock-down, a few select prisoners, including Mitch, were paired together for preparation for the bus ride to the dairy. An older, very friendly guard, Henry and another guard known to the prisoners only as “Mr. Smith” escorted them each night, along with Martha, the driver. Mr. Smith was, in Mitch’s opinion, an over-zealous, would-be “tough guy”. Mitch felt that his tough exterior was a way of covering up the fact that he was afraid of the position he held within the prison system.

  Outside the confines of the dreary, grey prison walls, Mitch admired the milky, northern sky. The night air was cold—enough that with each breath he took in, his nostrils froze together in protest. The snow crunched and squeaked under Mitch’s feet as his partner and he made their way to the short, green bus that would transport them to the dairy farm.

  Once settled into place on the bus, the twenty-minute journey began, much the same as every other night. With the exception of mixed thoughts rolling around in Mitch’s head, he was able to maintain the usual pleasant conversation with the man in which he was partnered with that more likely resembled an “honor” system to keep track of each inmate. Martha, the mid-fifties guard who drove them every night, hummed quietly as she pulled into the back gate to the dairy.

  Mitch felt a little shaky as he caught sight of the farmhouse at the far end of the property. He allowed his gaze to follow the course of the entire farm. The farmhouse, which was separated by a locked gate and offset from the working part of the farm, had its own freshly painted, red barn and a guest-house on the other side of the swimming pool. The dairy side of the property contained four rectangular, steel-framed barns with corrugated metal walls and roofs; three for housing the nearly two hundred milking cows and one that served as a milking parlor and an office. The warehouse contained the power equipment used to grow and gather the grain and alfalfa hay used to make the silage needed to feed the milking cows and horses. The fields were vast ribbon of rolling hills that stretched for miles.

  Mitch looked at the farmhouse again before exiting the bus and willfully shut down his wishful thoughts of Emily, deciding he wasn’t going to let anything—not even a pretty girl—get in the way of doin
g his job which could hurt his chance for release.

  “You boys behave tonight,” Martha told them as they exited the bus. “After I park this beast, I’ll be up to the parlor.”

  Mitch winked at the aging woman. “Me and Henry will hold down the fort until you get up there.”

  “You’re such a good boy.” Martha smiled.

  Mitch knew that his fellow prisoners were not dangerous or violent, but he humored Martha, knowing it made her feel important to be needed by them. From the short conversations Mitch had with her over the years, he discovered the woman had become a young widow. Never remarrying, she grew old with no children of her own. She often referred to Mitch and a few of the others as “her boys”. Having not had a mother for the past fourteen years, Mitch enjoyed the arrangement. At Christmas time, she would bring them home-baked cookies and candies, reminding Mitch of his childhood Christmas’s with his mother. On his birthday last month, she knitted him a new scarf and hat with matching mittens because his others had worn holes in them and barely protected him from the cold, Michigan winters. Now when Mitch worked or went out in the exercise yard in the afternoons, her kindness kept his hands and neck warm, and in turn, his heart warmed, knowing that someone cared.

  After leaving Martha to park the bus inside the warehouse where the tractors, combines and separators were also parked, Mitch went directly to the office for nightly work orders. Being the herdsman, Mitch was in charge over the entire herd and the prisoners, and enjoyed the freedom that his authority gave him. His prior life experience landed him the position, as he had grown up on a farm and had even owned his own horse at one time. Yes, Mitch was completely at home in the farm setting which was now so much a part of his life.

  Mitch entered the main office. “How are you tonight, Ethan?”

  The two men shook hands as Henry stood by.

  “Fine, Mitch. I think we might need to turn the heat up some in the parlor, or the cows might just go on strike!”

  They chuckled heartily, causing Henry to let go of a smile. Out of the corner of his eye, Mitch caught sight of Emily and another girl walking toward the office inside the main barn. As they got closer, a few prisoners whistled and motioned the young women toward them, causing Mr. Smith to engage his firearm. Mitch stood back, heart pumping vigorously, offering an arm to the two. Susan declined, but Emily allowed him to escort her into the large office. Mitch was a little unsure of himself, but continued to ensure their safety.

  The look on Ethan’s face when they entered the office made Mitch even more nervous. Had Emily taken his arm only to spite her father?

  “You two girls need to go back up to the main house this minute. You don’t have any business being here when these men are out here,” Ethan scolded them.

  “That isn’t fair. You let me in here last night,” Emily said in her defense.

  “All these men weren’t in here last night.”

  “That one was.” Emily pointed to Mitch.

  Mitch hung his head and turned his face away in embarrassment.

  “I said go up to the house, and I meant it, young lady.”

  “I’m not a little girl anymore,” Emily protested further.

  “Yeah, we can see that sweetheart,” a prisoner commented from outside the office door.

  The others continued to whistle, which angered Mitch.

  Mitch waved his arms angrily. “Get out of here, all of you. Unless you want to find yourselves jobless.”

  “You aren’t my boss,” a prisoner hissed at Mitch.

  “I’m your supervisor while you’re here.” Mitch puffed his chest and held his ground. “If you don’t move along, you won’t be coming back here to work anymore.”

  “You’re moving in on the boss’ daughter real fast,” another prisoner barked.

  Mr. Smith, who had allowed Mitch to handle them up until then, ushered the men from the barn; his firearm still engaged. Mitch tipped his hat toward Emily and Susan, then, bowed slightly.

  “I’m sorry, Miss,” he nodded to Emily, then to Susan. “You’ll have to excuse my men; they seemed to have forgotten their manners.”

  Emily snickered.

  He tipped his hat one final time before nodding to Ethan, then, he closed the office door.

  It’s going to be tough keeping my mind off that girl until I get out of prison. I think I admire her spunk too much.

  Mitch left the barn, but thoughts of Emily went with him.

  Emily watched Mitch through the office window until he left the barn. She then stood with her hands on her hips, challenging her father’s decision.

  “That Mitch is a good man. He’s been with me for nearly three years, now, while others have come and gone. I’m afraid that even in the prison system, the rate of turnover is quite high. Mitch is the only one who has survived the strict rules that I set down for these boys.”

  “He’s been in prison for three years?” Susan asked out of curiosity.

  “Almost.”

  “Wow. What did he do?”

  “Doesn’t matter. He’s been working for me for almost three years now. The young man only has a few more weeks until they let him out, and I have to admit, I’m going to miss him. I wish he’d stay on, but he wants to go home and finish college.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “He was in college?”

  “Yes. He was studying business. He’s very intelligent, that boy is, and he’s been a good friend to me. Granted, he made a mistake, but I believe he’s learned his lesson. That boy has got himself one heck of a future ahead of him,” Ethan said.

  “I’m sorry I upset you by coming out here, Daddy.” Emily held her eyes on her father.

  Ethan, a stout man, hugged his daughter. Something he hadn’t done in years. She hugged him back and began to weep quietly. Susan joined the two in a group hug, breaking a bit of the tension of the situation.

  The two left the barn and spotted Mitch in the shadows of the large floodlights that surrounded the property.

  Susan nudged Emily and whispered. “Are those deer real, or did you get some of those fake deer to put on your property?”

  Emily strained to see what Mitch was doing and saw that the deer were in fact moving toward him. “Uh, no. We don’t have any fake deer, those are real!”

  “So he’s good looking and a charmer!”

  Emily shook her head. “I don’t believe what I’m seeing, even though it’s right in front of me.”

  “He has them eating out of his hand. Why do you suppose those deer aren’t afraid of him?”

  “I don’t know, Susan. Maybe there’s more to Mitch Rutherford than I thought.”

  Susan looked at her friend in disbelief. Then the two walked in silence toward the main house.

  TWO

  A TRUSTED FRIEND

  By the end of the week, most of the snow melted and the crocuses in the window box outside Emily’s bedroom window began to bloom. She watched the purple and yellow blooms open slowly as the sun began to make its way over the horizon. Her father had fallen ill the day before and had given her quite a scare. After a long night of tending to him, Ethan had finally been able to get some rest. When Emily laid her head on her pillow, however, she realized that she was far too preoccupied in her thoughts to sleep.

  So much had happened the previous week that Emily found it difficult to sort through her feelings. Having witnessed Mitch’s tenderness night after night in working with her father throughout the week had caused her some confusion. The two were indeed very close, but Emily was still not sure she approved of such a friendship between the convict and her father.

  Emily soon drifted off to sleep, but awakened minutes later by an unfamiliar sound. From down the hall came a faint beckoning from Ethan. Emily sat up in her bed, straining an ear to listen for the sound of her father’s voice. When she heard it again, she knew without a doubt that her father was calling her name. She eased her tired body off her bed and started down the hall, where she met her father, who had gotten dressed and was
making his way toward the door.

  “Daddy, what are you doing up? You need your rest—the prison boys can handle the workload for the next day or so.”

  Ethan pushed back his greying hair. “Nonsense. I need to work at my dairy—as long as you give me a hand in getting out there I’ll be fine.”

  “Daddy, don’t be so stubborn. Go back to bed and I’ll check on things throughout the day and night while you rest,” Emily pleaded with him

  Ethan stumbled slightly, then, fell onto the solid oak bench that decorated the wide hallway. Emily rushed to his side and placed a thick pillow behind her father, trying to make him comfortable.

  Ethan wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I guess you’re right, Em. I am a little too stubborn for my own good. Maybe I ought to slow down just a bit.”

  “Do you want me to walk you back to your room?”

  “Let me sit here for a while,” Ethan said, letting go of a heavy sigh. “I could use a drink of water, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Ethan’s weakness startled Emily, but she would cater to him if it would make things right between them. She would take care of the company and hold everything together as best she could just to make him happy. Emily questioned her own strength, but hoped she could count on Mitch for support.

  After making her father comfortable, she went back to her room intending to finally get some rest. She was so exhausted; she fell asleep immediately, and slept for several hours. Suddenly, the sound of a somewhat familiar male voice startled her into full wakefulness.

  After pulling her long, curly red hair back with a thick barrette, she opened her bedroom door to hear who was down the hall with her father. Feeling disoriented from realizing she’d slept through the entire day, she glanced at the digital clock across the dark room, which read midnight—too late for a proper social call. The fact still remained that there was another man in her father’s room, and the two were talking—and laughing.