The Song Weaver

by BJ Hoff

  May they in Thee be one.

  William Vaughan Jenkins

  They named her Grace Katherine. Gracie.

  On Saturday, Jonathan and Ray loaded the cradle Maggie had used as an infant, along with the baby bed and high chair—all made by Matthew—aboard the MacAuley’s wagon for delivery to Jonathan and Maggie’s house. Packed in among the other things was the layette Kate had sewn during Eva Grace’s waiting time.

  After packing his and Maggie’s things in the buggy, Jonathan left Maggie with her mother and started home, with Matthew and Ray following in the wagon. They spent the next few hours unloading the wagon, heating the house, and giving the recently neglected Figaro some much-needed attention. Jonathan also did what he could to turn one of the spare bedrooms into a hastily-ordered nursery.

  Returning to the MacAuley’s, they found Kate and Maggie putting the final touches on an early afternoon dinner, comprised in part by some of the food brought in by friends and neighbors, but supplemented by Kate’s incomparable homemade bread and applesauce cake.

  For the first time in days, Jonathan actually felt hungry as he surveyed the spread in front of him. It also pleased him to note that Maggie’s mother had brightened somewhat during the hectic morning, though he didn’t doubt for a moment that the parting to come would be excrutiatingly difficult for her—and for them all. For now, though, they were gathered around the table as a family—and it was good.

  Maggie had placed Gracie in her cradle and scooted her up between herself and him. Jonathan noticed that she glanced down at the baby every two or three minutes, as if to reassure herself that she was still there. She also kept one foot on the cradle and every now and then gently set it to rocking. For the time being, Gracie seemed thoroughly content to lie there and take in her surroundings.

  Maggie and Jonathan had told the family of their decision first thing the day before. Jonathan couldn’t be sure, but he thought Matthew was relieved, though he plied them with numerous questions about how they would manage. Kate agreed that it was the right thing to do, but she’d wept a little all the same.

  Jonathan glanced across the table to see Kate pushing her cake around on her plate with her fork. He sensed a question in the making.

  “How are you going to take care of a baby and teach at the school as well, Maggie?” Kate finally asked. “Have you thought about that?”

  Maggie looked at Jonathan, and he cleared his throat. “We wanted to talk with you about that very thing, Kate,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Maggie’s not too keen on giving up her teaching position altogether. She apparently thinks I’m incapable of running the school without her.”

  He glanced at Maggie, receiving a look that clearly told him to go on.

  “In truth, I don’t fancy the idea of her leaving her position either. At least not entirely. I really do need her at the school. So we were wondering, Kate, if you would consider looking after the baby—after Gracie—for part of the day? Maggie thinks we can work out a schedule that will allow her to keep her class while still not working quite as many hours as before.”

  “If you don’t feel up to it, Mum, it’s all right,” Maggie hurried to add. “It’s not that I have to continue teaching. We just thought—”

  Did Jonathan imagine Kate’s eyes brightening and the slump leaving her shoulders as she looked up?

  “Of course I’m up to it,” she declared. “I think you should go on teaching. That’s the reason you went to college, after all, and Jonathan clearly wants you to continue. Besides, you never were the type to be housebound for too long a time.”

  “Are you sure, Mum? I mean, a baby is a lot of work—”

  Kate actually managed a rueful smile. “I expect I know more about how much work a baby is than you do, though you’re about to find out. You and Jonathan just figure out a schedule, and I’ll help however I can.”

  Jonathan tried not to show his relief. Even though the decision to take Eva Grace’s baby as their own was the right thing to do, he had no idea how he’d manage at school without Maggie. Finding and hiring a replacement for her in the middle of winter would certainly be difficult. Besides, he didn’t want a replacement. He wanted Maggie.

  Just then he saw something in his mother-in-law’s expression that made him wonder if he shouldn’t show his relief. He suspected Kate wanted to do this, but maybe she ought to know they definitely needed her to do it.

  “Thank you, Kate!” he said. “I’ll admit I was hoping you’d agree. Matthew? Is it all right with you?”

  Matthew was watching his wife with a speculative expression. After a moment, his gaze shifted to Jonathan. “Aye. It seems the right thing to do, if it’s what Kate wants.”

  “It is, Matthew,” Kate said quietly. “I believe it’s what Eva Grace would want as well. I’d like…to be a part of Gracie’s life.”

  Maggie rose and went to put her arms around her mother. “Oh, Mum! There was never a thought that you wouldn’t be an important part of Gracie’s life! You and Da both. And you too, Ray. Remember how Evie helped take care of you when you were just a wee thing? Now you can help take care of her little one.”

  Ray turned red, but he nodded and smiled. “I’ll help out,” he said in a voice that cracked, marking his change from boy to man.

  Kate wiped at her eyes with her apron and then declared the matter settled.

  Jonathan glanced down at the blond-haired infant in the cradle beside him to find her studying him with a curious expression.

  He leaned over to touch her cheek—so soft! She squirmed and flailed her arms until she caught hold of his finger. Something stirred in the deepest part of him, something new and stronger than he’d ever felt before, even with the youngest and most helpless of the students whose lives had touched his over the years.

  She was so very tiny and so defenseless. In that instant Jonathan wanted nothing so much as to lift her out of the cradle and hold her against his heart. And so he did. He felt as clumsy as a bear reaching for a butterfly as he scooped her up. Holding her snugly but carefully against him, he felt overwhelmed by the warmth and sweetness cradled in his arms.

  He glanced at Maggie to find her watching him, her eyes alight with an emotion he couldn’t have begun to name. He knew the others were watching him too, and there was a time when he might have been embarrassed to have such attention focused on him. But at the moment he seemed strangely immune to any feeling of awkwardness. After all, Gracie was the one everyone was watching. A baby was always the center of attention, not her father.

  Her father…

  Shaken by the thought that had come to his mind so unexpectedly, yet so easily, Jonathan could almost taste the word on his lips. Her father. He was to be—no, he was a father. Gracie’s father.

  Without warning, the word turned to show a different side, becoming for just a split second something ugly, even menacing.

  He wasn’t Gracie’s father. Not her real father. Eventually it would have to be discussed, this subject that never quite left him, that wrung him tight with anxiety each time he thought of it. They would all have to discuss Gracie’s biological father. Not just he and Maggie, but the entire family. There were precautions to be observed, steps that had to be taken.

  But this wasn’t the time. Not today.

  The subject of Richard Barlow and the threat he represented to the infant Jonathan held against his heart would wait. By Eva Grace’s request and with her blessing, he was Gracie’s father.

  And he had every intention of remaining so.

  When they finally came to their own bedroom that night, the baby had been fed and now lay sleeping in the small room directly across the hall. Figaro, already Gracie’s self-appointed guardian, stood in the hallway, looking from the baby’s room to Jonathan and Maggie, obviously hard-pressed to make a decision. At last, with a long sigh that might have been resignation or frustration, the big hound gave Jonathan a soulful look as if to make sure his master understood the circumstances and then plopp
ed down just inside the door of the baby’s room, resting his head on his paws.

  Jonathan made a fire in the bedroom fireplace and moved the big overstuffed rocking chair from its place by the window to face the fire. Both he and Maggie sat in it, watching the flames lap the logs and set the sparks to dancing. Maggie, wrapped in a soft blue robe, snuggled as close to Jonathan as possible. He buried his face in her hair, still slightly damp from her bath, breathing in the faint fragrance of vanilla that always seemed to follow her. Tonight there was also a hint of the baby powder she’d patted over Gracie before putting her to bed.

  They didn’t talk right away, but simply sat resting by the fire. Maggie was quiet for so long he finally looked to see if she’d fallen asleep. But she was staring into the fire and looked entirely awake.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  Still not moving, she sighed a little. “Evie. And us. And Gracie. And how life can change when we least expect it.”

  She turned toward him. “Do you realize we’ve been married less than a week and we’re already a family? For a moment just now, as we were sitting here, it seemed as though none of this had happened recently. That instead of tonight, it was months or even years in the future—a future we’d planned and were prepared for.”

  Jonathan studied her, looking for a hint of what she was feeling. “Are you having doubts about what we’ve done? About raising Gracie?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not.”

  “It’s understandable if you are, you know,” Jonathan assured her. “We’ve made a decision that’s going to have an enormous impact on our lives, a decision we had to make quickly with no preparation.”

  Again she shook her head. “I don’t doubt our decision, Jonathan. It’s just…I think I’m still trying to get used to everything. Things have been so hectic I haven’t had time to take in the enormity of what’s happened. Everything is coming at me all at once. And you and I have had so little time to be alone together, to talk things through. Jonathan, we’ve hardly had time to think! And in a few more days school will take up again, and we’ll be even busier!”

  Not only was she exhausted, but she was agitated and obviously worried.

  “For now—just right now, tonight, Maggie—what’s bothering you most?”

  She twisted around still more to face him. “I suppose trying to imagine how we’re going to manage everything with my teaching and Gracie. The additional responsibilities. I mean, we’re newlyweds, Jonathan. I had this picture—didn’t you?—of spending almost all our time together—getting to know each other, coming home together after school, having a nice, leisurely supper, and then perhaps taking a walk or reading by the fire. Just being together.” She broke off and then blurted out, “Goodness, Jonathan, we haven’t even shared a bed since—”

  Immediately her face flamed and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean—”

  “That’s a situation I’m fully aware of and hope to remedy very soon,” he said, trying not to smile at her embarrassment.

  “Maggie—”

  She resisted only a moment when he tried to gather her close.

  “Everything will work out. I told you before, we’ll make it work. Your family will help, and we’ll come up with a schedule at school that will allow you some extra hours. I’ve already started working on it.”

  “You have?”

  He nodded. “In my head, at least. Tomorrow we’ll talk about it. Now, tell me what’s really troubling you.”

  She shuddered and looked away. “I think I’m afraid.”

  “Afraid? Of what?”

  When she turned back to him, her expression was crestfallen. “Oh, Jonathan, I know I’m just being selfish, but—but most women have time to prepare for motherhood. I haven’t even had time to get used to being married. What if I turn out not to be a good wife or mother? What if I fail Gracie? And you? What if I can’t do this, Jonathan?”

  For a moment—only a moment—Jonathan was overwhelmed. He was physically and emotionally drained, trying to deal with the same concerns that were troubling her. In truth, he was suffering from the worst feelings of inadequacy he could remember. How could he possibly give her the reassurance, the confidence, she was so clearly looking for?

  He didn’t know, but this didn’t seem the time to admit his own fears.

  He took a deep breath and, brooking no resistance, pulled her into his arms, holding her gently but firmly. “Maggie, you have never failed at anything in your life. You’ve done everything you ever set out to do and then some.”

  She started to say something, but he silenced her, touching a finger to her lips. “Besides,” he went on, “you’re not going to do this alone. We’re going to do it together. I’m going to learn to be a father at the same time you’re learning to be a mother. And we will learn the way everyone else learns: by experience. I’m not expecting that we’ll be perfect parents, but we’ll do our best to be good ones. It’s true we’re going into this with no preparation, but I wonder if one is ever really prepared to raise a child.”

  He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “We won’t fail, sweetheart. I promise you. We won’t fail Gracie. And we won’t fail each other. You’ve always trusted me before, trust me now.”

  She searched his eyes and apparently found what she needed. She gave a small nod, slipped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

  He kissed her back. They sat in silence for a time, Jonathan deeply content to savor the warmth of the fire, Maggie’s slender form cuddled next to him, the silence of the house, the simple pleasure and comfort of being home again. He would grow old never taking the gift of this oneness for granted, never wanting more than he had at this moment. In all the dreams he’d had when he was a younger man, dreams about what it would be like to have one special someone to love and share his life with, nothing had ever come close to this experience of loving Maggie.

  He bent to look at her and found her asleep, her features more peaceful than he’d seen for days. He thought about lifting her from the chair and carrying her to bed, but decided they were fine just as they were.

  He touched his lips to the top of her head, tucked the blanket more snugly around them both, and again wrapped her in his arms. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was a silent prayer of thanks.

  Chapter Seven

  At Home on a Winter’s Night

  And bless the door that opens wide

  To stranger, as to kin;

  And bless each crystal windowpane

  That lets the starlight in.

  Arthur Guiterman

  The next unexpected snowfall wasn’t quite so unwelcome as its predecessor. The storm delayed school’s reopening by an additional five days, allowing Maggie and Jonathan more time at home with Gracie.

  She was a good baby, seldom crying unless she was hungry, except at a certain time in the early evening, when the shadows of night began to draw in from the mountain. At that time each day she would take to crying a bit—not a fierce, demanding cry, but more a soft wailing. Maggie couldn’t help but wonder if this was when she was missing her mother. Who knew what kind of connection existed between a child and her mother, even between earth and heaven? Was it possible that loneliness could set in from time to time, when even an infant felt the loss of the one who had carried her and given her life?

  Maggie made sure she was always nearby at this time of day to pick wee Gracie up and cuddle her close. She would rock her and sing softly to her until the crying ceased. Then she handed her over to Jonathan, who would continue rocking and talking to her in a quiet, soothing voice while Maggie warmed the bedtime bottle.

  Tonight was no different. It wasn’t quite dark as Maggie sat by the window in the room they now called the nursery, rocking Gracie as the wind moaned around the eaves and blew snow against the windowpanes. It had snowed all day, stopping only for an hour or so before gaining strength and starting up again.

  Humming as much to herse
lf as to Gracie, Maggie had been rocking long enough that she’d lost track of time. Jonathan and Figaro were going back and forth, inside and out, bringing in more wood. Fortunately they’d had more coal delivered at the end of last week during a lull between the two storms.

  No doubt some would think it strange that she found a fundamental comfort in being trapped inside. But their house was cozy in spite of the wildness swirling outside. Their pantry was stocked, they’d had a hot meal, and the lamplight cast a warm glow over the room. Rather than rebelling at these long days of being confined, she relished the time alone with her new husband and her new daughter. She wished Jonathan didn’t have to brave the storm, but he insisted that it made him appreciate the snugness of their home even more.

  When she realized that Gracie had grown completely still, she was surprised. Her evening bouts of crying usually lasted longer. She glanced down to find the baby wide awake, watching her with a small frown, as if she were puzzling over something.

  Maggie smiled at the intent expression on those tiny features. She touched the miniature nose with the tip of her index finger—and Gracie smiled! A rosebud smile that rounded her cheeks and banished the frown. And when Maggie lowered her head to kiss her gently on the forehead, the baby caught a lock of hair and clutched it tightly, locking Maggie’s face within inches of hers.

  Warmth blanketed Maggie’s heart. “Oh, Gracie, you are my own sweet girl,” she murmured. “I couldn’t love you more if I had carried you beneath my heart.”

  “And she’s going to grow up knowing that.”

  At Jonathan’s quiet words and his hand on her shoulder, Maggie carefully dislodged her hair from the baby’s hand and lifted her face for her husband’s kiss.

  “Has she already had her bottle?” he asked.

  “No. She just suddenly stopped crying.”

  “Let me warm my hands a little and I’ll take her,” he said, going to stand in front of the fire.

  Figaro came and plopped down beside the fire, looking hopeful that he wouldn’t need to move again. When Maggie got up to hand Gracie over to Jonathan, the big hound actually closed his eyes and feigned sleep.