The Widow of Papina

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The Widow of Papina Page 2

by Katie Hamstead


  Megan caught my arm. “Bray . . .?”

  “I’m okay. It’s just a Braxton Hicks.”

  Forrest shot to my side. I stared up at him, wondering where he’d come from. “Bray, hon?”

  “It’s fine, Forrest.”

  His grip on my arm tightened as he shook his head. “No, it’s not. I think we should go home and see what your mom thinks.”

  “She’ll say the same—”

  “Just humor me.”

  I nodded, knowing he wouldn’t back down. Once the contraction dissipated, he led me toward the door. As we passed through the crowd, I heard people whispering about me.

  “I bet she’ll have that baby by morning.”

  “Won’t it be nice to have a new baby in town?”

  “They’re probably going home to get ready to head to the hospital.”

  Great, I was already the hottest topic of gossip. But, at least they said nice things.

  Back at home, Mom sat me on the couch. “Do you know how far apart they are?”

  “I’d say, the ones I’ve noticed are about thirty minutes apart,” Forrest answered.

  “I was asking Bray, but thank you.” Mom sat beside me. “Sweetheart, I’d say you’re in pre-labor. In a few hours, you’ll most likely find yourself in a great deal of pain. You should get ready to drive to Bearville.”

  “Who names a town Bearville, anyway?” I muttered.

  Mom smiled before looking up at Forrest. “There’s a midwife on the Res, isn’t there?”

  He nodded.

  “Get her to come and have a look to make sure. I’m certain Bray doesn’t want to do that hour trip for no reason.”

  Forrest whipped out his cell and made the call.

  Within half an hour, the middle-aged woman arrived.

  She knelt in front of me, just as another contraction hit me. “Let me have a look.”

  I shifted around so she could check me. She nodded and looked up at Forrest. “She’s four centimeters dilated and ready to go. Would you like me to come to the hospital with you?”

  Forrest ruffled his hair. “She’s having the baby?”

  The woman chuckled. “Not just yet, but by this time tomorrow, you’ll have your child.”

  I gasped. “He’s early! I’m supposed to have another two weeks.”

  She patted my leg as she stood. “Babies come when they’re ready, not when the dates say they are.”

  She helped me out to the car, and Forrest rushed to bring the bag I packed for the hospital.

  Chapter 2

  I awoke to the sound of Forrest humming. My eyes dragged open and I smiled at the sight of him holding our day-old son. After an eighteen-hour labor, I’d slept all night and into the day, Forrest only waking me occasionally to nurse Jackson.

  Across the room, Mom slept on the converted couch. Tears burned in my eyes. How could I be so lucky to have such a wonderful family?

  “Bray.”

  I turned to Forrest as he sat beside me, his face glowing. “How are you feeling?”

  I touched his cheek. “A little emotional, to be honest.”

  He grinned. “It’s not really surprising.” He gently handed me our little boy.

  “Hi, Jackson.” I smiled as he immediately began rooting for a feed.

  Forrest stood, heading to the door. “You’ve got a whole lot of gifts out here,” he said. “I’m not joking when I say I think everyone in the town sent you flowers. Your dad came and took about half of them back to the house, and I’ve had to ask everyone to just send them there.”

  He disappeared out the door, and came back in with his arms full of flowers, balloons, and stuffed toys.

  “Oh my gosh,” I whispered.

  “Oh, and tell your stupid college friends that alcohol for a nursing mom is a bad idea.” He set all the gifts down beside Mom, who sat up and stretched.

  I laughed as he slipped a bottle of wine out of a bag and waved it in the air.

  “Why are you laughing?” He scowled. “You know how I feel about alcohol.”

  “I do, hon. I’m sorry.” I forced my smirk down. “It’s just their way of saying congratulations. I’m sure there’s a receipt in the bag. Just take it back.”

  He shook his head. “So someone else can drink it? No, I’m just going to dump it.” He marched toward the sink.

  “Forrest, that could get us good store credit for something we need, like diapers maybe?”

  He paused and looked at it. “It is from Costco.”

  “They have big boxes of diapers.”

  He slumped. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “You can’t get rid of alcoholism by dumping one bottle of wine.”

  He shuffled back and slipped it into the gift bag. “We’ll stop on the way home and I’ll exchange it.”

  After that, he went through all the gifts with me, before packing them into boxes to make easy transport.

  Later that day, we were discharged. The hospital lent us a couple of trolleys to take out all our stuff, but we still needed to make two trips. So, we loaded up what we could, while I carried Jackson, and we headed out.

  As we stepped out of the hospital doors, we were met with a chorus of “Congratulations!”

  I gazed around with my jaw hanging as our new friends stood around two vehicles, one of which was the sheriff’s truck.

  Megan rushed forward and kissed my cheek. “The whole town wanted to come out and help, but that was impossible. So, we were sent to come get you.”

  I laughed with surprise as the sheriff and deputy loaded our gifts into the truck, and Sarah and a handful of others rushed inside to gather the rest. Megan squeezed my hand. “Let’s get you and the baby in the car. I heard you named him Jackson.”

  On the car ride home, after we stopped at Costco, I said, “I can’t believe they all came out like that.”

  Forrest shook his head. “It’s amazing. I really think we got lucky with this town.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Two weeks passed, and my parents finally needed to leave. Mom cried her eyes out and clung to me and Jackson, but Dad finally dragged her away.

  For the first time, I found myself alone during the day. So, I explored my new home town. A white picket fence surrounded our cozy two-story house, with low shrubs in front of the porch, and a swing hanging from a large oak tree in the yard. In a suburb, this dream house would cost a small fortune, but out in this town, it sold for a meager price as it had been vacant for several years. Blue paneled walls, white trimmings and a porch that ran all the way around—I’d imagined rocking the baby on that porch and hadn’t even cared to look at any other houses.

  It needed some TLC after being abandoned for so long, but the home had so much potential. As I made my way through the house, I made a list of things that needed fixing for Forrest.

  I headed upstairs to our master bedroom. Aside from visions of summers spent outside on that porch, this room had been the selling point for me, with its walk-in wardrobe and enormous master bath. This room would be my haven.

  Jackson fussed from the room across the hallway, so I went in to nurse him.

  After he’d finished, I packed him up and headed out for a stroll. As I walked down the street, heading for Main Street, Jackson nodded off instantly. I smiled to myself and took a deep breath of the clean, fresh, mountain air. It felt so peaceful and pleasant, and for the first time, I could really enjoy it.

  As I turned up Main Street, I paused. Cars and people lined the street. But, not just any cars. They were Mercedes, BMW’s, Lexus’, Bentleys, Jags. They looked out of place in the quiet town where most of the time the vehicles were trucks and four-wheel drives. Then, it clicked. The school year was due to begin. They were parents come to drop off their kids
at the boarding school.

  I made my way up the street and turned into the grocery store. Patrick, the middle-aged store owner, smiled at me as I entered, and his wife waved from behind the checkout, but they were both too busy to stop and chat.

  I decided to take my time and see what interesting things they had. There was a whole refrigerated section with elk, deer, and even bear meat.

  As I turned away from the meats, a man standing behind me made me jump. He jumped too, as he was focused on something else, and smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I touched my chest, my heart racing, but smiled back at the silver-haired man. “You’re fine. I’ve got baby brain, so I’m kind of everywhere as it is.”

  He straightened his red tie over his tailored white business shirt. “Are you a sister of one of the students?”

  “A what? Oh, no.” I shook my head. “No, my husband and I just moved into town.”

  “You look a bit young to be married.”

  I chuckled. “I’m twenty-four. We’ve been married for almost three years.”

  “See? Young.” He offered me his hand. “I’m Vern Richards. My son is a sophomore up at the school.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Vern.”

  I turned to leave, and he said, “Do you need help with anything?”

  I tapped the stroller. His eyebrows shot up. It seems he hadn’t noticed it. “No,” I said. “This thing can carry a lot.”

  “Congratulations. Boy or girl?” He cocked his head to look inside.

  “It’s a boy. We named him Jackson.”

  He smiled, but when he saw Jackson, his smile wavered. “Is his father an Indian?”

  “Native American, yes.”

  “From this tribe?”

  I shook my head. “He’s Paiute.”

  “Will you be teaching at the school?”

  I raised an eyebrow, sniffing as his lip curled. How dare he look down his nose at my husband who he hasn’t even met! So, I let my defiant side flare. “No. He’s working as a Minor’s Counselor for the tribe. He’s absolutely brilliant. We met at college.”

  “Ah, he decided to take advantage of the benefits.”

  I rested my hand on my hip, resenting his assumption about my husband because of his race. “No, actually. He earned a full scholarship and worked his butt off to graduate with honors. He never went to parties or keggers, in fact, he volunteered as a counselor at AA meetings.”

  He sniffed and looked down at Jackson again. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Ms. . . . ?”

  “Mrs. Miller.” I pushed by him, anxious to get away. I couldn’t believe what he hinted at, or the disgust in his eyes when he saw my child’s darker skin. I couldn’t believe people were still that backward.

  I joined the line for the checkout. In front of me, a small group of girls dressed in grey and blue school uniforms noticed my stroller. They turned with huge grins across their faces.

  “Can we see your baby?” one asked.

  “Of course.” I pulled the cover back and their faces fell.

  “Is it adopted?” one asked.

  What were these people being taught? “No, he’s mine.”

  “It looks like one of those natives.”

  I covered Jackson and glared at the girls. “He’s half native, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look so disgusted by it. You’re being racist.”

  They shriveled their noses at me and turned away. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. My child, who was barely weeks old, was already being discriminated against. Everyone had always been so accepting of Forrest; it never occurred to me that someone could be disgusted with our child.

  I reached the checkout feeling disheartened as I handed Patrick’s wife, Reba, a loaf of bread. “Put it on our tab please. Oh, and I’d like that five-pound cut of Elk.”

  “Bray.”

  I looked up and met her concerned gaze. “I saw what those girls did. Don’t let it get to you, dear. They’ll be locked up in their school soon, and all the parents will be gone by the end of the week. We all love you and your little family.”

  I smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

  “Do you need Patrick to walk you home?”

  I shook my head. “You need him here, and I was planning on stopping by Town Hall to see Sarah. She has been bringing us dinners every night, and I’d really like to thank her.”

  “Hey! Quit your yapping and get a move on!”

  Glancing back, I catch a tall, lean, teenage boy scowling at us, and beside him, stood Vern Richards.

  Vern elbowed his son. “What the boy means to say is we’d appreciate it if you ladies kept the chatter for after hours. We need to be heading up to the school.”

  Reba muttered something under her breath before she handed me a receipt. “It’s on your tab and Patrick will drop the meat by after closing.”

  “Thank you.”

  I hurried out the door, eager to escape. My stomach tightened, so I took deep breaths to calm my nerves. As I walked, no one seemed to pay any attention to me, to my relief, and in Town Hall silence met me.

  Sarah’s gaze shot up over her glasses as the bell tinkled. “Let me see my little man.” Smiling, she rushed around and pulled the cover back. “How can he get cuter every time I see him?”

  The tight knot in my stomach vanished. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you for all you’ve done for us.”

  She straightened and tucked her straight, shoulder length brown hair behind her ear. “It’s nothing. I like cooking, and when you live by yourself, you don’t get to do it much.”

  “Well, I appreciate not having to cook right now, so thank you for enjoying it so much.”

  She giggled. Sarah was very pretty, in a natural way. Tall and slender, but strong from working hard, she had a country girl air about her that really worked in the small town. She wore very little make up, but with clear olive skin, she really didn’t need any.

  “I can’t wait to have a baby of my own. I’ll tell you a secret”—she leaned forward with a sparkle in her green eyes—“I’m green with envy over what you and Forrest have. Wow, it’s amazing. You’re so tight and I can just see the love there.”

  I smiled, glad our love shone through clearly. “Nothing’s perfect. We fight all the time.”

  “Yeah, but you always make up, and you always love each other. I wish that Pa—” She covered her mouth and blushed. “I should get back to work.”

  “Sarah, were you about to say Paul?”

  Her gaze shot around the room. “Shh. The Sheriff’s Station is right next door. He walks by all the time.”

  “Why don’t you just ask him on a date?”

  She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t.”

  “Do you wanna know how I met Forrest?”

  Her eyes locked with mine. “How?”

  “Well, there was this huge party in a dorm building at the beginning of our senior year. All the doors were open, giving out booze and junk food, except his. So, I knocked on his door until he answered, I introduced myself, then I just kissed him.”

  Her jaw fell. “You’re so brave. I could never do that.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t recommend it, but we’re not in the 1800’s anymore. Guys have no idea, so we girls need to take the initiative to clobber them over the head and give them a wakeup call.”

  She giggled.

  “Just ask him on a date. I don’t see him as the type to say no.”

  She bit her lip. “Really?”

  I covered Jackson, then turned to the door. “You’ll never know if you don’t ask. I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye,” she called.

  I walked out with a smile spread from ear to ear. I wanted Sarah to go for it, a
nd I hoped I’d given her the courage to do so.

  “What are you smiling about?” The sheriff paused at the bottom of the stairs with his thumbs hooked through his belt. He did look good in his sheriff gear; that light brown uniform with a radio and guns strapped to his hips, and a gold star over his heart. Sarah definitely had taste.

  My smile widened. “Nothing.” I turned the stroller to the ramp.

  “It certainly doesn’t look like nothing.” He hurried over to help me. “Reba told me you might need someone to walk you home.”

  I blushed, remembering what happened in the store. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “I do. I hate it when these one-percenters come to town for their private school dump off, and I certainly won’t stand for them harassing my citizens.”

  I sighed with defeat. “All right. I’m heading home right now.”

  We turned and walked down the street, where we struck up an awkward conversation. We talked about the weather, and he told me what to expect over the winter and to make sure we stocked up on food in case the town gets snowed in. As a desert dweller, I was intrigued to see what that much snow would look like.

  We passed by the tiny bookstore, and a voice behind me said, “She’s a perfect example of why we don’t mix with them, son.”

  I glanced up at the sheriff and he tilted his head to listen.

  “Such a pretty girl wasted on one of them and stuck in this pathetic little town so he can go on some vain crusade.”

  My heart sank.

  “I know, Dad,” a boy answered. “They’re disgusting anyway. They’re all on drugs and have completely fried their brains.”

  My hands tightened around the stroller handle.

  The sheriff turned, whipping a notebook out of his pocket. “Sir? Show me your ID.”

  I turned to watch and found myself looking at Vern Richards and his son again. What was the sheriff going to do? Book them for bigotry? Was that even a thing?

 

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