"I'll help you make the pie," he offered.
Carter thought he heard a very quiet scoff against his chest. She said, "That's okay, I can manage. Thank you anyway."
"What? You don't want my help?" He pushed her away a bit and frowned at her, not sure if he'd been right about the scoff.
Nalin's voice became indignant, which was even more pleasant to his ears than her quiet laugh. "I wouldn't mind your help, Carter, if you were actually helpful. The problem is you're not. You do everything wrong in the kitchen." She left his lap and grabbed her drawers.
Carter stood. He grinned, thrilled to pieces at her sudden sass. "Is that a fact?"
"Yes, and don't think you're fooling me." She pulled her nightdress over her head and glared up at him. "It's curious. You do a bang-up job training horses. When it comes to something as simple as cooking, you give it nothing more than a lick and a promise. It's so I won't ask you to help again. We both know this."
Carter laughed and headed for the door. He put his hand on the doorknob and then looked back at her. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I'm no good at it because it's meant to be women's work?"
He stepped out quickly and closed the door behind him. A moment later he heard a thud on the door, most likely a shoe launched at him a second too late. Carter chuckled all the way to the apple tree, where he picked the fruit for the pie.
Upon returning to the cabin, he found Nalin standing in the kitchen, wearing an apron over her nightdress and mixing the dough for the crust. He set the bucket of apples at her feet and kissed her cheek. "See, little firecracker? I helped a little."
She smiled at him and looked deeply into his eyes. "You helped a lot. Thank you, Carter." He knew she referred to more than the fruit.
That night they made love. Carter reminded her of the pleasures to be found in life as he nudged her to climax twice in his arms. When his own orgasm built, he pulled out and released on her stomach. He cleaned his seed off her skin with a soft cloth and laid down next to her, bringing her into his arms.
"I think that's how we should make love now," he said.
Nalin pulled the quilt over them and laid her head on his chest. "After all our trying and hoping for years, we've finally given up." Her voice hitched. "We'll never be parents, Carter."
He didn't respond, and they said nothing for some time. Nalin broke the silence.
"Ohpitsa?"
"Hmm?"
"I understand if you don't want to and will respect your wishes, but I would like to try one more time. Just one more pregnancy. If I lose the next baby, we'll only make love as we just did."
He didn't want to try again. Not at all. He wanted only for his wife to be safe and happy, and he hated that her happiness depended on being a mother. He sighed deeply. "If that's what you really want, sweetheart."
"One more try," she said, her voice faint and sad.
Carter felt sad too. Sad and scared, and not even slightly hopeful.
Chapter 11
Promise under the Apple Tree
Nalin resumed the habits of her daily life. She cooked and cleaned once more, freeing Grace from her obligatory visits. Grace still checked in on her, but she talked with Nalin instead of working. Nalin read her books again and participated in the suffrage meetings in Porter with regularity. She attended a medium-sized convention in the next town over and delivered the speech Susan had requested for her to give. Preparing the speech and arguing her points to a crowd gave her a sense of purpose and accomplishment. She was a natural at it.
The memory of her stillborn daughter's body in her hands passed through Nalin's mind multiple times daily, but one day after several months, Nalin realized that she couldn't picture the exact shape of her daughter's face with clarity anymore. Her inability to see the features of her baby in her mind's eye caused her to despair. Sitting alone under the apple tree, she allowed herself to cry. The tree with its ample shade and scent of fruit had become her new haven since the loss of her daughter. She sat beneath it whenever she needed to collect her thoughts and allow herself to grieve.
She mused to understand her pain over being unable to picture her stillborn child's face any longer. The reason for her pain came to her in waves, a little at a time. Her daughter had not formed a personality, acquired likes or dislikes, or known what it meant to be loved. She hadn't been given a name. Life had been robbed from her, and now even the appearance of her dead body had been robbed of a place in her mother's memory. It was more proof of her daughter's nothingness, more proof of her insignificance in the land of the living. Understanding the reason behind the pain made it no less difficult to bear, and Nalin suffered greatly and silently under this new grief.
Nalin and Carter made love almost every night, and he spilled his seed inside of her. She knew that if she became pregnant again, it would be for the last time. If the pregnancy failed and the baby died, they would stop trying. If the pregnancy succeeded, they would feel exceedingly blessed to have one child and would not desire another.
The upcoming election gave Nalin something to think about other than her sorrow. She studied the issues and debated with her friends. The two main presidential candidates were Democrat Grover Cleveland and Republican James Blaine. Nalin read the campaign materials and decided that if she were allowed to vote, it would be for Grover Cleveland.
Then she read the following week's paper and changed her mind in a jiffy. There was a woman suffragette candidate. Of course, the woman would never win, but Nalin would nevertheless give her a silent vote in support. The candidate was a lawyer by the name of Belva Lockwood. Lockwood agreed to be the Equal Rights Party's presidential candidate in a symbolic gesture to point out the folly of the country's laws. She observed, "I cannot vote, but I can be voted for."
As Election Day approached, Nalin thought often of the first suffragette who spoke at the convention in Dallas. Victoria Smith had urged women to attend the ballots and cast their votes, despite it being illegal to do so. Nalin felt terror whenever she thought of it. She knew that if she voted, she could very well be arrested and sent to jail. She didn't know for how long, but Nalin felt certain that even a day would be unbearable, if Carter's tell of the jail's conditions in Dallas provided any clue.
A few days before the election, Nalin decided to gauge Carter's feelings about her casting an illegal vote. He sat in his armchair reading the newspaper. She interrupted his reading and mentioned it breezily, as though it were an offhand comment about what they might have for supper.
"Ohpitsa, I was thinking about the election on Tuesday. Maybe I ought to vote."
Carter brought the paper down. A scowl altered every feature on his face, which told Nalin all she needed to know. His words only confirmed it. "You'd better not. Don't even think about it, Nalin. I mean it."
His eyes flashed with fury, and hers matched his after hearing his predictable, uncompromising words. She should have known. She strode toward the front door, not wishing to discuss it.
Carter had other plans. He stood and tossed the paper on the chair. "Come back here. We need to have a discussion."
Nalin groaned and turned. "Why, Carter? You've made your opinion clear. You don't want me to vote. I understand, and I don't wish to be scolded."
"I more than don't want you to vote. I forbid it! And you'd be wise to listen to a scolding. A reprimand would be easier to endure than jail." He walked to her and gave her shoulders a small shake. "You want to break the law? Get arrested?"
Nalin shrugged out of his grasp. "You should read about civil disobedience by Henry David Thoreau. Sometimes it's a good measure to take when the laws are unjust."
He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not letting you out of my sight on Tuesday."
She rolled her eyes in response. "Pull in your horns. I didn't say I was going to do it. I just wondered aloud about it. Remind me not to clue you in on my thoughts in the future. It seems they are unwelcome."
"I'll give you a clue about my thoughts in the present. How about t
hat?"
"Oh, yes. Pray tell. I can hardly wait to hear how wrong I am."
Carter shook his head at her sarcasm. He held a finger to her face. Nalin barely resisted the urge to slap it away. "It's easy to talk big in the comfort of your home to a man who loves you. But I know you, and you're not cut out for danger. I saw your fear when witnessing arrests in Dallas. Now just imagine how much scarier it would be to get ditched yourself."
He was right, of course, which annoyed her. The thought of being on the wrong side of the law terrified Nalin. As headstrong as she was, she also possessed a healthy dosage of fear. She didn't like the thought of danger, and she certainly didn't want to place herself directly in its path. When she thought about whether she should vote, it was more out of loyalty to the cause and the desire to be a good suffragette than out of true interest in making such a bold move. The truth was, she didn't want to. She wouldn't admit it, but she was actually relieved Carter forbade it so she wouldn't have to make the decision herself.
"You have my word I won't vote, Carter. May I leave now?"
Carter crossed his arms. "I hope you mean that. A man's only as good as his word. That applies to you too."
Nalin's temper flared. "You don't say?" she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "I reckon I know that by now. I'm held to the same high expectations as a man but given none of the benefits." She spun on her heel. "It's all to pieces bosh, you know," she said before slamming the front door behind her.
Nalin stormed to the apple tree and sat in her favorite spot under it. She wasn't really angry with Carter, and she was completely over their spat by the time she arrived at the tree. The injustice of not being allowed to vote bothered her, but it was a tickle compared to the pain she still felt over the loss of her daughter.
Carter joined her at the tree after a few minutes. He sat on the grass in front of her and took her hands in his. "You come here often for comfort now, don't you, sweet girl?"
Nalin smiled at him. She liked that he noticed. "Yes, ohpitsa. I love this tree. Something about it—the shade, the aroma—I don't know. It cleanses me. I come here almost every day."
Carter looked at her hands and rubbed the top of them with his thumbs. He brought each hand to his lips and kissed it.
"I can't picture the look of our daughter anymore," she confessed to him suddenly. "Try as I might, I can't bring the features of her face to mind. It makes me sad, Carter. I come here to try to think about her, and also to try not to think of her. I fail at both."
Carter cupped her cheek with his palm. "I didn't know that. You should tell me of your suffering, not endure it alone."
Nalin gave him a sad smile. "You can protect me from a great many things, dear husband, but not from this pain. For that reason, I didn't think I should tell you."
He looked down and blinked a few times before looking back at her. "There's something I didn't think I should tell you too, but now I think perhaps I should."
Time passed. It was Nalin's turn to touch his cheek. "What is it, ohpitsa? You know you can tell me anything."
Carter placed his hand over hers on his cheek, then moved her hand to his lips again, kissing her palm. Freeing it, he touched the spot next to him, where the grass grew a bit shorter and greener than the areas surrounding it.
"As you slept on the night of her death, I buried our daughter here under the tree. I named her when I buried her."
"Oh," Nalin said breathlessly. She felt the ground where their daughter rested, and her hand grazed his. She moved into his arms, and they held each other tight.
"Nalin, it seems you somehow knew she was here because this is where you've sought comfort."
"It's curious, isn't it?" she said in a reverent tone. "What do you think that means?"
"I couldn't say. What do you think?"
Nalin thought for a moment. "I think it means her spirit calls me. The sight of her has left my mind, but her spirit never will. That's one thing that won't die." She fixed her eyes on the ground as they filled with tears. "Her spirit will soon bring me more comfort than pain."
A solemn hush befell them. Nalin breathed in the scent of her husband and the fragrance of the apples. A breeze swayed the grass around them. Nalin felt at peace. Her body and the body of the man she loved touched the same earth that held their child, the place where their daughter's bones would eventually become earth itself. She felt that their three spirits were one, connected for eternity, and nothing, including death, could separate them.
"What did you name her?" Nalin asked.
Carter rubbed his hand through his hair. "It might seem silly to you."
"It won't," she said.
He gave her an embarrassed smile. "Promise."
"Yes, I promise it won't."
"No," he said, chuckling. "I meant I named her Promise."
"Oh!" Nalin beamed at him. "It's a lovely name. What made you think of it?"
"I made a promise to her. As I buried her, I realized I not only wished she were alive, I also wished her to have every freedom. For instance, I would have wanted her to vote when she came of age, and I would have wanted this ranch to go to her in the event of our passing, not to some husband I couldn't even picture. I would have taught her about business, and you would have taught her about politics. Imagine what she could have done, if she were given both life and freedom."
Carter kissed Nalin's hand. "I promised her I'd give her mother something she's wanted for some time: My understanding and support in her cause."
Nalin looked at him, her eyes filling with tears once again. "Really?"
"Yes. I know I forbade you from voting, but that's only because I want you safe. My vote will be whatever you want it to be, my love, until the day comes when you're rightfully allowed to cast your own."
Nalin didn't say anything for some time before she confessed, "I've been confused by my belief in women's equal rights because I want to be submissive to you as my husband."
Carter chuckled. "I've been mighty confused about that too, honey. The way I see it, though, we got lucky you and me. I'm naturally dominant and you're naturally submissive. It's easy to think that's how it should be for everyone when it works so well for us."
Nalin's eyes were shining. "What do you think now?"
Carter winked at her. "That given the choice with no laws to demand it, you would still choose to follow my lead like an obedient wife. You'd still wish to walk one step behind me, trusting me to lead you in the right direction."
Nalin smiled. "That's very true, ohpitsa."
"However, you wish to be in step with all other men in public life. I like that, and I support it. I've come to believe that women should have the right to choose where they wish to step, both in marriage and public life. That's what I would have wanted for our daughter."
Nalin felt in awe of her husband's wisdom. His words made her feel like all her efforts to fight for women's equal rights had been worthwhile. Finally, he understood and supported her. More amazing was that he also helped her to reconcile their own relationship with the world around them.
Carter read her mind, as he so often did. He gently fisted her hair above the nape of her neck and pulled her head back, allowing his lips access to her neck. She let out a whimper. He kissed along the groove above her collarbone up her neck. In her ear, he said, "Over the last couple years, you've often described yourself as a failure, haven't you, young lady?"
"Yes, sir."
"How do you feel now as a suffragette, when I say you've convinced your stubborn husband of your voting rights?"
"I feel good, Carter."
"Successful?"
"Yes."
"And how do you feel as my wife, when I tell you I love your submission to me and am very pleased with you?"
"Successful," she whispered.
"Good girl," he said, releasing her hair.
Nalin laid her head on his shoulder. "There's one thing I still don't feel successful at. I don't feel I am right as a woman, when my body can
not hold life. I hope someday I won't feel like a failure in that respect."
Carter stood and helped her to her feet. "I hope someday is today," he said.
He unbuttoned her dress and pulled it off over her head. Little by little, he undressed her until she stood naked in front of him. He laid her gently on the grass while she looked up at him, loving and trusting him as she always had. He kissed her, then moved down her body. He laid his palm flat against the bottom of her bare foot.
"This foot, shorter than the length of my hand, this is the foot of my woman." He slid his hands up the outside of her legs and paused at her hips, grasping them. "These hips, they are my woman's hips, soft and yielding in my hands. And these breasts," he said, cupping one. "Feel how different my woman's chest is from her man's." Carter moved one of her hands to the hard muscle of his chest and her other hand to feel her own supple breast. "These lips," he said, kissing her, "They are my woman's lips, sweet and naughty, like the strawberries and whiskey she consumes."
"And your womanhood," he said, kissing her from her bellybutton down to her cleft. "It has the arousing taste of my woman." He danced his tongue around her opening and up to her clit. A moan escaped Nalin's lips. He moved his body back over hers to look into her eyes.
"But the proof that you're a woman is not in your body. Those are only signs of it. You could lose your breasts and your limbs, you could never become pregnant again, and you would still be a woman here." He touched the place over her heart. "I'd be lost without the love of my woman, Nalin. You are all woman to me, inside and out, and you're everything I need."
Nalin believed him. She felt very much like a woman lying there, desired and loved by her man, and she finally allowed herself to believe it wouldn't take the birth of a child to make her feel complete. They made love under the apple tree. It was on that day, the day Nalin felt successful as a suffragette, wife, and woman, that she conceived. Nine months later, she gave birth to a son.
# # #
Carter had never known such joy. Seeing his wife's beaming face tilted down to view their newborn baby in her arms was the best thing he had ever laid eyes upon. Nalin named the child Patrick, Paddy for short. Carter's and Nalin's days were filled with the sounds of their baby's mewls, interrupted often with visitors knocking on the door offering food and congratulations.
The Submissive Suffragette (Lone Star Love Book 1) Page 10
