by Lorin Grace
Plans would wait.
Twenty-three
Instead of immediately heading back to town on the horse he’d been provided, Tim chose to stay for a few more hours. If the babies made it through the night, they had a good chance of survival. He wasn’t as experienced as Mrs. Wilson, but he felt he owed it to her to make sure her tiny granddaughters had his attention.
Samuel Wilson was a master of handling crises. Tim watched as he calmed one daughter, then the other, giving them both helpful tasks. Several times he consulted with Sarah in whispered conversations. From her expression, she didn’t always agree with him, but in the end they both seemed happy.
Tim helped Samuel move Emma’s body into the parlor.
“I need to go talk to John, but I think we will send the body back to Ma’s little house. It will be more convenient for the funeral, and I don’t want everyone coming here with the new babies.” Samuel shut the door to keep the room cooler.
The girls had the narrow bed stripped by the time they returned. Samuel carried the tick outside before having Tim help him remove the bed frame from the room.
After another whispered conversation with Sarah, Samuel left the house. Sarah joined Tim at the fireplace with Lettie in tow.
“Lucy wants to try feeding them again.” Sarah lifted the largest baby from the cradle and carried her to Lucy, then came back and took the smaller one, carefully wrapping it in a warmed cloth before she went into the bedroom.
A quarter hour later, Samuel returned with the rest of his children, including Maryanna and her husband, who carried Seth. The two-year-old studied the room in bewilderment. James gulped a couple of deep breathes, Benjamin and Betsy looked as they may have been crying, and Stella clung to Maryanna’s hand. Philip hovered over his new bride.
Benjamin ran over to the cradle. “Where are they?”
“They are in with your mother,” said Tim.
Samuel went to the bedroom door. “Wait here, children.”
Louisa produced a wash basin. “Grandma would have insisted you wash up before seeing the babies.”
Maryanna supervised the hanging of coats and took charge of the little ones.
Tim watched, mesmerized. With only two siblings and servants to care for most things, he had never seen a family working together like this. The oldest Wilson boy, James, who couldn’t have been more than eleven, took one look at the wood box and filled it without being asked. The only person who didn’t seem to know what to do was Maryanna’s husband.
Samuel came out of the room with Lettie, and the children gathered around him. “Mama says she will show you the girls in a half hour or so. Sarah will let you know when it is time. Boys, if you’ll take care of the chores, I am going to ride to Uncle John’s. He doesn’t know Grandma died.” He turned to Maryanna’s husband. “Philip, can you ride to Carrie’s and find a messenger to ride to Thomas Jr.’s?” Samuel pulled some money from his pocket. “Hopefully that will cover the cost. Don’t go yourself.”
Phillip nodded.
Samuel looked across the room. “Dr. Dawes, do you need a horse now too?”
“I would like to keep an eye on those babies for at least a few more hours—if you don’t mind me staying.”
Relief filled Samuel’s face. “I would be much obliged. Things are bound to be a bit topsy-turvy around here, and I feel better knowing you are watching out for my girls.” Samuel’s gaze drifted to the closed bedroom door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Tim retreated to the corner, where he felt he wasn’t in anyone’s way, and watched. What would it be like to be the father of a family like this?
Sarah caught her eyes drooping as she waited for Lucy to feed the baby in her arms. Shaking her head, Sarah tried to clear the cobwebs. “Do you know what you want to name them?”
“Samuel still isn’t sure. He wants to talk with John, Carrie, and Thomas Jr., but I really want to name the second one Emma. He may not believe me, but it really did feel like she was here, telling me to breathe calmly, before Dr. Dawes realized that I was having twins. I thought it was my imagination, but knowing Emma just passed, I wonder. I can’t believe she is gone. I want to cry, but I look at my babies and want to laugh. So, I can’t do either. I want to name the other one Anna, but it may be too close to Maryanna, and I want to ask her.”
Sarah understood. She herself had been able to cry, but holding her niece cut the sadness in half. “Emma and Anna, I like that. I doubt Maryanna will mind. What if someone objects to Emma?”
“I had been thinking of the name Jerusha. But I was so sure this would be a boy the way they kicked me. This pregnancy is so different than the one I had with Benjamin and Bessie. I never guessed. I just thought it felt different because I am so old.” Lucy turned her attention to the baby at her breast.
A longing filled Sarah. If only she had a baby of her own she could hold in her arms. But that dream had died with Mark in some tent as he’d lost his battle with dysentery. He didn’t even have the chance to fight the British. If only they had gotten married, at least she would be a widow. Somehow that sounded more appealing than a spinster.
“Switch me.” Lucy held up the bundled baby. “I can’t wait until they are a little bigger and I can nurse them both at the same time.”
Sarah nuzzled the child she held under her chin. “Is that easier?”
“No, but it is faster.”
“How long would you like me to stay?”
Lucy studied the babe in her arms for a moment before looking up. “I think I’ll ask Maryanna to stay. Where she and Phillip are living at his parents’ home, it won’t be that big of a change. And she needs to learn a few of the things you or Emma always took care of. Besides, you will be needed to dress Emma, and then there is Amity.”
Sarah had forgotten about Amity. She didn’t usually come on Saturday, so there was no worry she would find the house empty. With Emma gone, would she trust the rest of them when her time came?
“Where shall we have Emma’s funeral?”
“Samuel thinks her little house is best because of the weather and the proximity to the church. John will want it at his place. So we will see.”
Sarah didn’t need to wait to know. Thomas Jr. would side with Samuel, so it would be at her house. But it wasn’t her house. The baby burped, and Sarah put her thoughts about the future out of her mind for now.
In any other circumstance, Tim would love the position he found himself in, gliding over the icy road in the Wilson’s old sleigh, with a beautiful woman at his side under a starry sky. But on a June night with a body in the back seat and Sarah sitting ramrod straight a good foot away from him, the moment was far from enjoyable. If Sarah moved any farther, she would fall out the side. Tim had wondered for several days if she wasn’t trying to put distance between them. He had his answer.
She hadn’t been happy when Samuel had returned from John’s with his parents’ old sleigh. Tim hadn’t understood the jokes about Mr. and Mrs. Wilson’s love of the sleigh or how if Emma had a choice she would choose it to be her last conveyance, but it wasn’t until John left grumbling about the dangers of sleighs and snowdrifts that Sarah lost her smile and begged Samuel to let her stay the night. Her requests to take Louisa, James, and even Benjamin or Bessie home with her were also met with rejection.
And then she’d stopped talking.
But only to him. She wouldn’t look at him or allow him to carry her to the sleigh when they left, though neither he nor Samuel wanted her feet in the snow again. And so Samuel had done it, though Tim wished it could have been him.
He had asked Samuel what was wrong, but the whispered answer made no sense. “My parents were married in that sleigh.” Tim studied the sleigh as he drove. It was at least fifty years old but in excellent repair. But people didn’t get married in sleighs, and what
did that have to do with Sarah ignoring him?
Here and there lights shined out of a few windows as they entered town, but most people were tucked safely in their beds.
As expected, Mrs. Wilson’s house was dark. He hurried around the sleigh and lifted Sarah out, carrying her to the porch before she could protest. He set her down inside the front door. Wordlessly, Sarah lit a lamp and carried it into the parlor, then set it on the table.
“I need—”
She looked at him for the first time in nearly an hour. Tears stained her cheeks. She had been crying on the way back. Had he known, he would have comforted her.
“You need to leave. Go find someone to help with Emma, Dr. Dawes. You can’t be here with me.” She turned her back to him and started to push one of the chairs closer to the wall—to prepare the room for the funeral, he surmised.
Tim laid his hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged it off. “Please, leave me.”
If he turned her, he knew there would be more tears. But she didn’t want him. Someone knocked on the door, and Sarah hurried to answer it. Tim finished moving the chair.
Reverend Palmer stepped into the room. “Samuel Wilson sent me a message about his mother. Is the funeral to be from this house?”
Sarah answered. “Yes, Samuel will bring the coffin in before church. Can you help the doctor with … if you would put her in her room, then . . .” Sarah took in a deep breath. “Then I can prepare the body.”
“Mrs. Palmer will be over to help you as soon as I let her know you are back. I noticed the light in the window just as we were going to bed.”
Sarah shook her head. “It’s late. Your wife can sleep if you’ll just bring in—” Again Sarah had to pause before continuing. If the reverend hadn’t been there, Tim would have taken her in his arms. Sarah needed to be held and to be able to cry. Sarah was as close to Mrs. Wilson as any of her own children.
A lighter knock sounded at the door. Mrs. Palmer didn’t wait for it to be answered but came in, took one look at Sarah, and pulled her into her arms. “There, there, dear, it will be better soon.”
Sarah pulled back. “My father used to say problems always looked better in the sunlight.” She turned to the men. “If you would please bring her in. I am sure Dr. Dawes needs sleep worse than I do. He was already out and about when he stopped to help me.”
Reverend Palmer clasped Tim’s shoulder. “Good thing you did too, I understand we lost Mrs. Wilson but gained two more in her place.”
Tim really didn’t need the minister to help him bring in the body, but it did solve Sarah’s worries about them being alone.
Tim left as soon as they were done. He would return the sleigh early in the morning before the remaining ice and snow melted. He looked back to the house to see Sarah in Mrs. Palmer’s arms again.
How he wished she trusted him enough for it to be his arms around her.
Twenty-four
The sun hovered just a pinch above the skyline when Samuel knocked on the door. As soon as Sarah opened it, he pulled her into a hug. “You don’t look like you slept much, pumpkin.”
“Neither do you.”
“It’s been a long night.”
“Did the babies?”
“They were both fussing when I left. Dr. Dawes brought Mrs. Morton out with him when he returned the sleigh just before dawn. So everyone is in good hands.” Samuel waved toward the wagon, where James sat. The boy climbed down and hurried into the house.
Samuel walked into the parlor. “Who helped you move all the furniture?”
“Reverend Palmer moved most of it last night while Mrs. Palmer helped me.” Sarah didn’t tell Samuel she’d rearranged most of it before dawn after an unsuccessful attempt to paint a memorial. She had been unable to sleep. She had not handled the jokes about being in the sleigh alone with Tim well, though she knew they were just something to relieve the stress of the day. Perhaps had she cared for him less, she could have laughed more. Crying in his arms yesterday had been as disturbing as it was comforting. It would do neither of them any good for her to follow the path her heart begged her to explore.
Two straight-backed chairs stood alone in the center of the room. “If you will hold the door for us . . .” Samuel and James went back out to the wagon.
When they returned with the coffin, Sarah adjusted the location of the chairs to hold up either end. She ran her hand over the smooth stained wood and traced the carvings on top. “How long have you been working on this?”
Samuel pinked. “I started on it the day I built Pa’s. I wanted to use the same wood. Ma was so distraught when Pa died, I thought she might go any day because of a broken heart. Over the years I added to it, either on the anniversary of Pa’s death or when I was worried about Ma.”
“You truly outdid yourself. Now all the ladies in the widows’ pew are going to beg you to make one just like it for them.”
“I’ll tell them it took me ten years. I think that will stop them.” Samuel smiled and turned to his son. “Do you think you can help me place grandma’s body in here? I can get someone else . . .”
The boy straightened to his full height, causing Sarah to tilt her head up. “We already talked about this, Pa. I can do this.”
Sarah ran and got Emma’s old wedding quilt to put under her body. It was the one thing Emma would want to take with her.
When they were finished, Samuel took his leave. “I’ll see you at the church. Lucy wants all the children to come in. What I think she really wants is some silence. Seth runs around the house holding up two fingers and shouting ‘Two!’ every time he sees the twins. Benjamin and Bessie keep arguing over which one is theirs. One of the girls will stay home. Carrie’s and Thomas Jr.’s families should be here by the time church starts. So it will be a crowd.”
Sarah covered her mouth. “I don’t have anything to feed everyone!”
“Don’t worry. Maryanna thought of that last night with today being the Sabbath and all. It is only beans and cornbread, but there will be enough for everyone, and you know that once the reverend announces Ma’s passing, food will just start to show up. By tomorrow morning after the funeral, there will be more food in this house than the entire Wilson family can eat in a week.” Samuel hugged her one more time before he left.
Sarah wandered into the kitchen. It needed a good sweeping. Sabbath or not, she needed to tidy things up. At least cleaning would keep her awake until church started.
The last bell’s echo faded as Tim slipped into the back of the church. His breeches were splattered with mud, and he was late—two very good reasons to slide into one of the back pews. He should pay more attention. The entirety of Widow Webb’s boardinghouse sat in the row in front of him.
“She looks exhausted.”
“She should be. Got in his buggy alone … was gone all day … parlor light on about ten thirty … just the two of … bold as you can be.”
“ … could be another explanation.”
Tim tried to discern which women were speaking, but their bonnets hid their identities.
Reverend Palmer stood. “Before we begin, I would like to announce the death of Mrs. Emma Wilson last night.”
One of the women in front of him jumped a bit and gave a little squeak.
“Told you.”
As he suspected, they had been gossiping about Sarah. Her fears about being alone with him had some foundation. He would try to be more careful. Gossip like this could stain a lady’s reputation.
Tim missed the rest of the announcements and didn’t remember singing the hymn. These women were supposed to be her friends.
Halfway through the sermon, Sarah stood with little Stella in her arms and exited the building. Tim waited a few minutes before following, certain no one had noticed since he already sat by the doo
r.
Sarah stood near one of the privies, rubbing her arms to keep warm.
“If I were twenty years younger, I would take advantage of finding a pretty girl behind the church.”
Sarah turned to face him. Judging by the dark rings under her eyes, if she had slept last night, it had been a poor sleep, indeed. The black mourning dress robbed her of all color. “And I would hit you like Samuel taught me. Please go before someone realizes we’re both out here.”
“Do they gossip about you often?”
“Who?”
Tim shrugged. That had been the wrong question.
“I am a poor spinster teacher. You are a doctor from one of the wealthiest families in town. Of course they gossip. Please go.”
The tremor in her voice hit him harder than her fist ever could. He heeded her request, but instead of returning to the church, he got on his horse and left. If she returned and he didn’t, the gossips would be less likely to talk. Besides, he needed to change his soiled clothes.
At least the day warmed up enough that people could move out to the porch to talk. The house was filled to overflowing. Seth came over and asked to be lifted up again. When she complied, he immediately laid his head on her shoulder and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Sarah took him upstairs, where Stella already slept next to John’s children on her bed. Tucking him in next to her pillow, she hoped he had been to the privy earlier. Too late now. She moved her pillow to the top of her trunk.
Neighbors continued to come in. Considering Emma had probably delivered half of the population under the age of twenty, there would be more to come. Sarah found Louisa in a corner, studying her boots. Her niece had never been one for crowds or talking with strangers.
