Lavender Blue: A Time Travel Romance (Lavender, Texas Series)

by Bartholomew, Barbara

  The child moving within her remained remote and unreal to Betsy, unimagined as a real little person, and though she told herself that with Caleb back she had every reason to settle into happiness, unreasoning anxiety continued to plague her.

  Once when she’d just stepped outside the back door, she thought she saw Grandpapa Forrest shimmering just ahead of her, looking well and strong and not as old as he looked now, a frail figure continuing to mostly stay in his room avoiding the rest of them.

  The interval frightened her. She hadn’t even thought about entering the cookshack, but its aura had seemed to reach out to her, seeking to draw her in.

  She ran back into the house and into the security of Caleb’s arms, sobbing and shaking so that he thought something was wrong with the baby. “What is it, Betsy?” he asked urgently. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t even try to tell him. He would only decide she was imagining things.

  Caleb grew seriously worried about Betsy. She wasn’t acting like herself at all. She’d gone from being a cheerful, optimistic woman to jumping at shadows and half the time sunk in quiet foreboding.

  She worried when Doc was out on his calls, fretted that Evan shouldn’t sleep alone in his room, or that somebody would attack Hetty and Fred in their little home. She seemed to be looking for something to worry about and he tried to tease her out of this mood, though he had to admit that when it came to Forrest and the way he seemed to have drawn into himself, not improving an inch, he wasn’t feeling any too comfortable himself.

  He caught Doc outside one September afternoon to ask him about both of them.

  “Doc,” he said, “Betsy doesn’t seem like herself. Do you think she’s sick?”

  Doc still looked thin and wan from his illness, but he seemed to be regaining his customary energy. These days Hetty didn’t have to make calls for him. “She’s having a baby, Caleb.”

  “I know that,” Caleb responded angrily. “But is she all right?”

  “As much as I can tell. She’s a little on edge, but there’s plenty to be on edge about.”

  “Women die having babies,” Caleb commented worriedly.

  “She’s strong and healthy. She’ll be fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Dammit son, I can’t give you a warrantee. I’m only a doctor, not God.”

  Caleb accepted that in silence, somewhat resenting the fact that Doc wouldn’t give him reassurance, even if it was false. “And Forrest?”

  “We’re doing all we can, son, but he’s been through a terrible bad experience.”

  “Two,” Caleb contributed. “Prison and losing Lavinia.”

  Doc nodded. “Only time will tell.”

  Caleb stalked away. The day when Doc reverted to old sayings was not a hopeful one. He went out to gather eggs before Betsy tried to do it herself.

  On the next morning Miss Eliza Tucker came into their lives. She knocked at the door and when Caleb pulled it open, she stepped inside. “No school today,” she said, “since its Saturday. So I’ve come to help.”

  He stared at her, confused. “Help what?”

  “Help your wife so she can get a little rest and Hetty can spend a little time with her own family. But more than that, I’m here to see what I can do to get Forrest on his feet. We’re old friends, went to secondary school together.”

  They all knew Miss Eliza, of course. She taught the younger children with firmness and resolution at Lavender School. A spinster lady in her middle years, she was a force for good in the town, even though some people weren’t quite ready to accept her commanding ways.

  She was the kind of teacher who scared little kids to death on the first day with her firm rules and autocratic demeanor. She was also the teacher that they all came back to visit after they’d grown older and gone on, attributing whatever success they’d gained in life to her.

  She’d been teaching in Lavender since was sixteen, the daughter of a respected local farm family. And now since it was Saturday and she had nothing pressing to do, she was here to take charge of them.

  Doc followed her into the house and seemed glad to see her. Caleb wasn’t too surprised at that since he’d heard Miss Eliza, who always sternly refused to talk politics, had grown up in Missouri and was widely suspected to be a secret abolitionist. Certainly she was openly friends with Hetty and had advised and helped the other woman in teaching her sons, who were, of course, not eligible to attend the school.

  Miss Eliza marched to her own drum and bold indeed would be the woman or man who challenged her. Now she ignored the rest of them to look meaningfully at Evan, who stared back at her fearlessly.

  Some understanding seemed to pass between them. She nodded. “It’s a lovely day; you should be playing out in the fresh air.”

  Evan, who wasn’t used to going outside without Miranda and tended to stay inside playing quietly by himself when she wasn’t present, nodded. “I could go dig,” he suggested.

  “A good idea,” she said. “Do you have a spoon?”

  He shook his head and Miss Eliza looked inquiringly at Caleb. He went to the kitchen and came back to hand Evan a spoon.

  The little boy went outside. “You were probably up most of the night with Opal Anderson’s new baby,” she told Doc. “Go take a nap. We’ll call you if you’re needed.”

  Doc grinned and obeyed.

  Next was Caleb’s turn. “You must have something to do,” she suggested. “Preferably outside where you can keep an eye on the boy.”

  Caleb decided he had wood that needed chopping and went out.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Betsy realized suddenly that she’d been standing like a statue while Miss Eliza took over the household. She didn’t really know the teacher and wasn’t sure she liked the way she looked with her chiseled features and unexpressive face. Who did she think she was, coming in here and telling everybody what to do?

  “Can I help you?” she asked now in her most sarcastic, pure 21st century voice. She was pregnant and miserable and probably weighed a ton. She wouldn’t put up with this.

  “Yes,” Miss Eliza said in her own no-nonsense tone. “You can show me to where you keep Forrest these days so I can determine his condition. Word around town is that he’s not doing well.”

  Betsy stood her ground. “His father is a doctor and looks after him. You can ask him about Forrest.”

  “Forrest is an old friend. I prefer to see for myself.”

  Their gazes met until Betsy lowered her lashes, telling herself she wouldn’t enter into this kind of test of wills, especially not considering she’d most likely lose. “He’s in his room where he spends most of his time sleeping. We have to practically force him to eat.”

  She led the way to the large bedroom which Forrest had once shared with his young wife. Forrest lay on the bed, apparently asleep, though Betsy sometimes suspected that he assumed this aspect just to keep them from disturbing his solitude.

  “Forrest, its Eliza come to see how you’re doing.” Apparently Miss Eliza entertained the same suspicions. Either that or she didn’t care if she did wake him up.

  He didn’t stir. She tapped his head lightly with one finger and said more loudly. “You won’t ignore me, Forry Stephens!”

  Forry? Betsy had never heard him called that before. Apparently it was impossible to resist the commands of a boyhood friend. Forrest half opened one eye. “I’m sick, Liza. Real sick.”

  “The way I’ve heard it you’ve just given up. Never thought you were the kind who would do that, Forry.”

  “Don’t call me that. I’m a grown man and my name is Forrest.” Betsy noticed that his voice sounded a little stronger than normal.

  “I’ll call you by your grownup name when you’ve earned it,” Miss Eliza scolded. “What are you doing, lying there and giving up when you’ve got a precious little boy to consider?”

  “He’s well looked after.”

  “By people who have more in their basket than they can carry. Poor o
ld Doc has enough to do looking after the people in this town and Caleb and his wife are just starting their own family. I never thought you’d be the type to shirk the joys and burdens of life, Forrest Stephens.”

  Both eyes popped open. “You don’t know what I’ve been through!”

  “I can make a fair guess and you need not assume I’m feeling sorry for you. What would that pretty young woman you married think, having you abandon her baby this way?”

  “Lavinia abandoned me,” his voice had sunk into weakness again.

  “She died, you fool. You can’t blame her for that.”

  “She was supposed to be here waiting for me. My heart’s broken, Liza.”

  Obviously Miss Eliza had endured all she intended. She straightened to her full height and delivered an edict. “All I’ve got to say is that young Mrs. Carr and I are leaving this room to give you privacy to get your clothes on and make yourself decent. When we come back in ten minutes, I expect to find you up and ready to go or I’ll wash and dress you myself.”

  With that she seized Betsy by the arm and pulled her from the bedroom. Back in the living room, she ordered the younger woman to seat herself in the largest chair and pulled up a stool to prop up her feet. “Don’t you know you’re expecting a baby most any day now and need to take care of yourself.”

  Betsy protested automatically. “Not ‘til October.”

  “If I were you, young woman, I wouldn’t place any bets on that. You look ready to pop any moment.”

  Miss Eliza sank into the chair nearest to the one occupied by Betsy and covered her face with her hands. “Lands,” she said, “but he looks like something the dog buried and somebody dug up.”

  “With a spoon,” Betsy said, almost giggling. This was the funniest scene she’d been through in ages. Miss Eliza was a hoot.

  Her visitor looked at her reproachfully. “The poor man deserves some consideration considering what he’s been through,” she declared.

  Betsy couldn’t argue with her. She felt too good sitting and relaxing instead of rushing around the house trying to get the work done. Miss Eliza made chicken and dumplings for their dinner and baked a custard pie.

  She scrubbed the kitchen floor after she had washed dishes, which Caleb dried. Forrest was allowed a nap after he’d eaten the noon meal at the table with the rest of them. He didn’t say much, but he did eat.

  Somehow Betsy was vastly encouraged. She didn’t feel Forrest had any choice but to get better, not with Miss Eliza telling him what to do.

  Miss Eliza scared Caleb to death. She made him feel like a naughty little boy in her first grade class, but there was no question but that Forrest started slowly improving under her regime. She and Hetty ruled over their little house like royal monarchs, giving each other mutual respect and even Betsy began to seem more like herself again.

  Fortunately Miss Eliza could only take them on in her spare time after she finishing teaching the young pupils whom she seemed to consider practically her own. That gave Caleb some chance to run his own life, though more and more he began to yearn for the days when he, Betsy and their new baby would be able to move back to the farm.

  Days were shorter now and nights longer with nothing but bad news coming from the war front. Folks told horror tales about Sherman and his march from Atlanta down into the sea. They said nothing much was left, not of dwellings, domestic animals or crops once his troops had moved through. Everything had been butchered, burned or taken by the soldiers and black and white populations had both been left devastated in their wake.

  Caleb could only hope it would all be over soon, though sometimes it felt as those this war would never come to an end and that someday his little son, not even born yet, would be still fighting.

  Everybody had such strong feelings. Each thinking they were right and the others wrong. Doc came home one day from the store with a bloody nose about which he refused to comment. Caleb heard later that Bolter Jackson, his temper on edge, had let go and socked the old man and might have done him serious injury if the checkers players hadn’t pulled him off.

  Seemed like all the rage the planter felt over the loss of his property and his oldest son had centered on Doc and nothing would satisfy him but stomping his enemy into the ground.

  Forrest began to talk about rejoining his partner in active management of the store again. Though Caleb, seeing how he still tottered like an old man didn’t think that was possible. He had the sense not to say so, however, knowing that right now his old friend was only kept going by Miss Eliza’s threats and the possibility of going back to work at the business he’d once run so profitably.

  Caleb liked to think that for his family at least the war was over. Now all that had to happen was for Generals Grant and Lee and a few others to make the same decision.

  He reckoned it might be a hundred years before things returned to normal in the deep south, but out here in Texas with all its room and different kinds of people, they were ready to move on.

  Betsy’s back had been aching for days now and there was no way, distorted as she was, to get comfortable in bed, but it was still nearly a month from her baby’s due date when the pains suddenly turned sharp as a toothache and way too regular.

  Doc was gone to the country on a call. Forrest was at work down at the store and Caleb, for the first time in weeks, had stolen a few hours to ride out to his farm and make sure everything was battened down for the winter. He’d told Betsy that after the baby came he wouldn’t be free to leave for a while. Might as well get it done now.

  So it was that she was alone in the house with Evan when she began to be aware that this baby just might be going to come earlier than expected.

  She wanted her mother and stepfather, both of them doctors, if something was going wrong. She wanted Doc and darned if she didn’t want Caleb!

  What was he thinking going off like this just when she needed him? She heard the sound of cold autumn rain beginning to blow against the windows and hoped he’d have sense enough to turn back because of the weather and come riding up in twenty minutes or so to be with her.

  “You all right, Bets?” little Evan asked, looking up at her face.

  “Of course I am,” Betsy managed to gasp. She didn’t want the child to be scared. “Why would you think something was wrong with me?”

  “You was frowning like you had a pain.”

  A pain! She was all pain, horrible jagged pain like she’d never felt before and hoped to never feel again. It was too early; what was wrong? What was happening to her?

  Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to keep calm. She’d never actually stuck around when her parents were delivering babies, but she’d heard a lot of talk. Having a baby was natural, easy enough under most circumstances.

  But she was guessing already this wasn’t most circumstances. Well, she had to get help and there was nobody to do it but herself. She reached out a hand, “Come on, Evan, we’re going someplace.”

  Obediently he placed his small hand in hers and they started for the door. But, feeling odd, she had to stop.

  “Betsy,” Evan said. “You’re peeing on the floor. Only little kids do that.”

  Peeing! Oh drat, oh darn, oh damn! Her water had broken. The baby was definitely coming. She managed to walk only as far as the big chair and sprawled into it, overcome with labor pains.

  She tried to keep from yelling because she didn’t want to scare Evan any worse than she already had. “Betsy’s not feeling too good, honey. Maybe you’re better go tell Mrs. Parker.” Mrs. Parker lived in the house just to the west of theirs.

  Obediently the child rushed out the door and she could only hope that, young as he was, he could get somebody to pay attention to him. Surely Mrs. Parker, knowing that Betsy was expecting, would guess what was wrong.

  But Evan was only three. He might be distracted by sight of a bird or a bug and forget all about his errand. In fact she could still hear heavy rain hitting the house. She’d sent the boy out into a storm.


  Another ripple of agony passed over her body and she found it hard to think about anything else. Caught up in what was happening to her, she was lost until she heard a sound at the door. “Caleb?” she croaked hopefully.

  Instead she heard the familiar high-toned voice of Forrest’s old friend. “Betsy?” the voice called. “Are you all right?”

  She realized the high back of her chair concealed her from the view of the woman in the doorway. “Help!” she screeched and then as pain hit her once again she couldn’t manage anything else but a moan.

  “Oh, my dear.” To her great relief Eliza was at her side, touching her with a comforting hand.

  “Baby,” Betsy grasped the word, then managed a single word question, “Evan?”

  “He’s fine. At the school with the other teacher and all the children seeing to him. He tried to tell me something was wrong with Betsy and I guessed, or surmised, and sent one of the older boys for Mrs. Hetty. Hopefully she’ll be here soon. The truth is my dear I’ve never even been present when a baby was being born.”

  If she hadn’t hurt so much, Betsy would have laughed. She’d never heard Miss Eliza so distracted, nor had expected to do so. “Early,” she said, “something’s wrong.”

  “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable on the sofa.” Eliza helped her over to the sofa, stepping carefully around that embarrassing pool of liquid in the middle of the floor. Once she had Betsy settled, she went back toward the kitchen and while she was out of sight, Betsy wanted to call her back. She hated being alone right now. Drat that Caleb who just had to go see his farm today of all days.

  Miss Eliza was quickly back. “I started the fire and put water on to boil,” she said. “I’ve heard they always need hot water.” She looked around. “Doc isn’t here?”

  “Country. With a patient. Caleb gone too. Only Forrest in town. At store.”

  “I have the greatest respect for Forrest, my dear, but I can’t feel that he would be of much help in this circumstance. You know the reason he didn’t follow his father into medicine is that he can’t stand the sight of blood.”