“Having babies is exciting,” Betty said, her eyes running quickly down Elizabeth’s figure. “How far along are you?”
“About seven months.” Elizabeth hesitated, then asked, “Did you have trouble with your babies?”
“Law, no!” Betty scoffed and laughed merrily. She laughed easily, and there was a prettiness about her, not yet hardened by the rough life on the frontier. “They both came so quick I was surprised both times. How about you and your two?”
“It wasn’t that easy.”
“Well, maybe it will be this time.”
Deborah Stevens, who had been sitting across from Elizabeth, asked, “Are you feelin’ all right? Having babies should be a natural thing, but sometimes it’s hard.”
“I think Hawk’s worried about it more than I am.”
“He lost his first wife in childbirth, didn’t he?” Deborah inquired. She actually knew little of the history of Hawk, nor did anyone else in the community, but somehow she had picked up on this bit of information, and now she saw that the thought troubled the young woman. “Sometimes it frightens a man to have his wife bring a child into the world.”
“Men aren’t worth anything at a birthing,” Betty Foster shrugged. “I told Charles to go hunting when mine came.”
“I wouldn’t want that,” Deborah said.
“No, I wouldn’t, either,” Elizabeth smiled. “Not that there’s anything they can do, but I’d feel better if Hawk were around.”
As the hubbub of talk swarmed about her, she was thinking of how Hawk had treated her during her pregnancy. It had been almost ludicrous the way he had refused to let her work, even during the early months of her time. Once, when they had walked a little farther than he thought right for her, he had simply scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the cabin as if she were a small child. Remembering that now, she thought how his strength had brought a comfort to her, and she glowed with pleasure at the thought of having a strong man at her side. But Hawk had been worried, she knew that. It was not that he said much, but she could tell. Many times she had tried to assure him that she was not afraid, but it had not soothed his nerves.
She looked up to watch Rhoda, who was chatting now with two of the other women, and wondered how long it would be before she and Paul would have a child. When Deborah Stevens questioned her again about how she felt, she said quietly, “It’s all in God’s hands. We will be all right, Deborah.”
Deborah nodded with satisfaction. She knew Elizabeth Spencer to be a sensible woman, not flighty like so many she had known, and now she raised her voice and asked, “How are the cakes coming, Rhoda?”
“Just fine.”
Rising to her feet, Elizabeth moved over to stand beside Rhoda. The other women had gone to the door for a moment, to step outside and cool off while watching the children play. Elizabeth sensed something was troubling Rhoda and asked quietly, “Is everything all right?”
For a time Rhoda did not answer, then she turned her eyes on Elizabeth. She had very attractive eyes, large and well shaped, but now there was a cloud in them, and she said, “It’s the same thing. I don’t ever feel quite right.”
“About being married to a minister?”
“Yes. I . . . I just don’t know if I can do it, Elizabeth. I can’t help Paul the way I should.” She clasped her hands nervously and dropped her head. Her shoulders drooped in an attitude of doubt, and Elizabeth put her arm around her, saying, “Of course you can help him.”
“I just don’t know. I wish I’d had a different kind of life.”
Iris Taylor had been standing in the doorway, and now she turned and said in a strange tone, “Just be glad and thankful you got a man who loves you.”
Rhoda shifted quickly to face Iris, realizing how much better off she was than this poor woman. “I reckon I shouldn’t ever complain,” she said.
“God knows all about you and the Reverend,” Iris said. There was a sudden strength in her voice, a quality that had not been there months before, and now she said evenly, “God will be with you in everything and through everything.”
“That’s right,” Elizabeth echoed quickly. She hesitated for one moment, then said, “Has Zeke . . . been abusive to you or Amanda?”
A sigh shook Iris’s thin body and she shook her head. “No, he’s just yelled at us a lot. Sometimes I’m afraid that he will hurt us, though. I know that God’s with me, and I’m trusting Him to keep me and Amanda safe.”
“I think the three of us all need to pray for one another,” Elizabeth said. She put her hands out, and each was taken by the women. She prayed quickly but fervently for Iris, that her home would be made whole, then for Rhoda and Paul. When she was finished, Rhoda, in a halting fashion, prayed for her, and then Iris said a brief prayer. When Elizabeth looked up, her face was glowing. “Isn’t it wonderful that we can take these things to God?”
****
“Watch your hand, Joseph! You’re cheating!”
The young people who had gathered for the party were all in an irregular circle around Joseph Foster, who was kneeling and had one eye shut as he squinted at a group of marbles inside a roughly drawn circle. He was a strongly built lad of fourteen with a shock of dark hair and light green eyes. His tongue was slightly extended as he concentrated on the marbles, murmuring, “I’m not, either. I’m right on the line.”
He propelled the marble strongly with his thumb, and at once Andrew shouted, “You hunched! You got your hand half a foot over the line!”
Grinning broadly, Joseph shook his head. “You’re just a sore loser, Andy.” He picked up two of the marbles that had been knocked out of the ring and then proceeded, despite Andrew’s frequent protests, to drive the rest of the marbles out. He had a light touch and was the champion at marbles in the settlement. Picking up his winnings, he put them into a leather bag and winked at Abigail. “I guess we know who the champion marble shooter is, don’t we, Abigail?”
Abigail was wearing a new dress for her birthday. It was an off-white lightweight cotton with pale pink roses running down the dress between alternating lines of small pale green leaves and a single yellow stripe. It had elbow-length sleeves that ended in a fabric ruffle and had pink lace edging the sleeves and the neckline. Her rich brown hair was carefully arranged in curls that fell down her back, and she smiled at Joseph Foster winsomely. “I don’t think anyone doubts that, Joseph.”
“Let’s race,” Andrew insisted. He had lost all his marbles in the game and now wanted to do something at which he was more skilled.
“We’ll have the girls’ races and then the boys’ races,” Sarah said.
“Of course we will,” Andrew said. “Girls can’t race with boys.”
The girls’ race was between Sarah, Abigail, Amanda, and Leah Foster. Although the other girls were older, it was Sarah who came flying in to win the race. Her eyes sparkling, she turned around and shouted, “I win! I win!”
“You can run faster than any girl I ever saw,” Amanda said. At the age of thirteen, she was two years older than Sarah but had come in last. The other two girls, Abigail and Leah, were stronger and more vibrant with health. “I wish I could run as fast as you could.”
“Come on. Line up,” Andrew shouted. “Come on, Jacob.”
Jacob shook his head. “I don’t want to race.”
“You’re not afraid, are you?”
Jacob glared at Andrew and without another word went over to stand between him and Joseph Foster. There were two younger boys there—really too young for the party but had come anyway.
Jacob crouched down and waited for the signal. It was Abigail who shouted, “Go!”
The boys raced toward a tall maple tree at the end of the clearing. There and back was the race, and by the time Jacob made his turn, he knew he was going to lose. Both Joseph and Andrew were well ahead of him, and he was gasping as he reached the finish line, but Andrew had already come in one step ahead of Joseph Foster.
“You win, Andrew,” Abigail said.
Andrew’s eyes were glowing. He was scarcely breathing hard, and he winked at Joseph. “If you’re the marble champion, I’m the running champion.”
“I guess you are,” Joseph admitted. He was basically a good-natured boy, though rather stubborn at times, wanting his own way.
“Come on. Let’s roll hoops,” Abigail said.
The group spent the next hour playing with hoops in various forms of games. The hoops themselves had been bought to make barrels with, and the young people rolled them along the ground with sticks. Strangely enough, it was Amanda who was the most adept. She somehow had the ability to run and to keep the hoop spinning by touching it lightly at the back. When she won the race, Abigail hugged her and said, “You’ve got a light touch, Amanda. I think you’re the hoop champion.”
At this moment Deborah Stevens came outside with a pitcher and several mugs. “Anyone for fresh apple cider?”
The response was instantaneous, and as soon as Mrs. Stevens left, Abigail poured the clear cider into the mugs, serving herself last.
“This is good,” Joseph said, wiping his brow. “I could drink a barrel of it.”
“Well, we don’t have a barrel, and we have to divide it evenly,” Abigail said.
They all had walked over to the tall hawthorn tree at the edge of the field, enjoying the shade. Far away to the north, the land seemed to rise up as the foothills made a jagged outline on the horizon. In the other direction, the forest lay quiet and thick, filled with game of every kind and waiting the advent of the settlers. Soon it would be fields and trails and cabins, but now it was dark and brooding, the habitat of deer and bear and raccoon rather than of man.
After the cider was gone Abigail said, “Let’s sing.”
Joseph shook his head. “No, let’s play ball.”
But Abigail insisted, and soon her clear voice rose and the others joined her.
Finally Abigail said, “I wish we could have a big ball here where all the ladies could dress up in pretty dresses, and the men could wear suits and ties, and we could have music and dance.”
Sarah agreed with this, for there had been many splendid balls at her home in Boston. “Oh, that would be wonderful!” she said, clapping her hands in delight. She described a ball she remembered, then added wistfully, “There’ll never be anything like that around here.”
“Have you ever been to a ball, Jacob?” Abigail asked.
“Why, of course. We had them all the time in Williamsburg.”
“Do you like to dance?”
“I sure do. As a matter of fact, I think we could have a dance right here.”
Abigail looked at him skeptically. “We don’t have any music.”
“We’ve got singing, though. Come along. You and I’ll show them how to do it, Abigail.”
Andrew muttered, “What fun is there in dancing?” He was scowling as Jacob went over and pulled Abigail to her feet.
Leah Foster’s eyes gleamed with fun, and she began singing a familiar tune. Those who knew it joined in, and Abigail felt Jacob’s arm go around her. She took his hand and the two began to move around under the shade of the trees.
The sunlight filtered down through the leaves, forming a pattern of light and dark, and Sarah laughed, saying, “Why, it’s as good as a ball!”
Amanda smiled, but she glanced over and saw that Andrew looked perturbed.
Abigail was enjoying the dancing. She had attended several as a girl in North Carolina, of course, but there was something grown-up about the way Jacob held her and watched her. She tried to draw back after a while, but he only pulled her closer, laughing at her.
Finally Jacob stepped back and bowed, and then with a gleam in his eye, he moved over and pulled Amanda out in the clearing. She was protesting, but he shook his head. “I’m going to dance with every pretty girl in this crowd,” he said.
Sarah was standing beside Andrew, watching the two go around. “You ought to dance with Abigail, Andy.”
Abigail, hearing this, turned to Andrew and smiled with invitation.
Andrew did not want to confess that he did not know how to dance. He had never learned and had, indeed, not wanted to. Now he stared at the two dancing, shuffled his feet, and then blurted out, “Dancing is foolish!” He turned and walked off stiffly.
Sarah moved over closer to Abigail and whispered, “I think he doesn’t know how to dance, Abigail. Don’t be mad at him.” She turned and ran off, and when she caught up with her brother, she scolded, “You shouldn’t have said that!”
“Well, it is foolish!”
“No it’s not! Don’t you know how to dance?”
“No, I don’t, and I don’t want to learn.”
“That’s foolish!” Sarah said. “I’ll teach you how. It’s not hard.”
The two went on toward the cabin, and at that moment Deborah stepped outside, saying, “Come on. It’s time to eat.”
“Go tell Abigail you’re sorry,” Sarah commanded. She reached out and jerked at Andrew’s sleeve. “Don’t run off like this! You’ll spoil her party!”
“All right,” Andrew said. “I’ll apologize.” He waited until Abigail approached. She was standing beside Jacob, and Andrew wished that he were alone with her, but it was something that had to be done, and he said, “I’m sorry I acted like I did, Abigail.”
“Why, that’s all right, Andrew,” Abigail said quickly. She studied the face of Andrew MacNeal, and then her eyes went to Jacob Spencer, who was watching all this with interest. Turning back to Andrew, she said, “Let’s go in and eat. We’ll play some more games later.”
****
The meal had to be served both outdoors and indoors. The young people ate inside at the tables since it was Abigail’s birthday. The men took their food outside, carrying their plates and mugs out to sit under the shade of the trees.
After the meal was over, Abigail opened her presents. Sarah handed her a package, and when Abigail opened it, she said, “A bonnet. I bet you made this yourself.” She held it up for everyone to see. It was made of white cotton, with a small edging of white lace along the wide brim, and a light blue ribbon between the crown and the brim that extended down the sides, long enough so that it could be tied under the chin.
“You’re so clever, Sarah. Thank you so much.”
The rest of the gifts were small and inexpensive, most of them being handmade. From Amanda she received a sampler with a picture of a small church in the center surrounded by flowers, birds, trees, and animals, all worked in brightly colored thread on a heavy cotton background.
Andrew gave her a small wooden trinket box with flowers carved on the lid.
“Oh, it’s beautifully done! You do the best carving, Andy!”
Andrew’s cheeks glowed at the compliment, and then he watched as Abigail opened another package. She pulled out a pair of beautifully made mittens of rabbit fur. Laughing with delight, she stuck her hands inside and turned to say to Jacob, “I’ll bet you didn’t make these, Jacob.”
“I shot the rabbits, and Sequatchie showed me how to tan them.”
“Look, everyone!” Abigail handed the mittens over to the girls, who were watching avidly. “Won’t these be nice and warm this winter? They’re so beautiful!” She rubbed her hands over the softness of the fur, smiling demurely at Jacob.
Jacob grinned and said, “If I had known you were going to like them so much, I would have made you a cape and boots to go with it.”
“Well, there’s always Christmas,” Abigail teased.
“I’ll start trapping rabbits tomorrow,” Jacob promised.
Abigail opened the rest of her presents, but it was obvious the mittens were her favorite. She scarcely put them down, and from time to time, she rubbed the softness of the fur against her cheek. Jacob was pleased, for he had spent a lot of time making them under Sequatchie’s careful instruction. Now he thought he had seldom seen anything prettier than Abigail Stevens as she touched the soft fur to her silky cheek.
****
/> Abigail, Sarah, and Amanda were all sitting around in a circle in Abigail’s room. The girls were too excited to sleep and for an hour had relived the party.
“It’s the nicest party I’ve ever been to, Abigail,” Amanda said. She did not add that she had only been to one or two in her whole life, mostly when she was younger. It had been a fine day for her. She had come outside the shell that she had built around herself, and now she was content and happy, wishing that the party could go on forever.
Sarah reached over and picked up the mittens, saying, “These are the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.”
“They are beautiful, aren’t they?” Abigail nodded.
Sarah put her hands into the mittens. “They’re so soft. I’m going to ask Jacob to make me a pair.” She rubbed the fur against her cheek, then said with an impish look in her eyes, “It looks like Andy has competition.”
Abigail flushed. “There’s no competition.”
“Why, sure there is,” Sarah said. “Jacob and Andy are both after you.”
“I’m not a . . . a prize to be won, Sarah. Besides, Andrew and I are just good friends.”
Amanda had listened to this carefully. “What about Jacob?”
“Well . . .” Abigail said and then halted. She flushed slightly, saying, “He’s a good friend, too.”
“I hope you don’t fall in love with Jacob. I always thought when you and Andy grew up you could get married, then we’d be sisters.”
“Why, you’d still be sisters even if she married Jacob. He’s your brother,” Amanda said.
Abigail was flustered by this sort of talk. At the age of fourteen, she was on the brink of young womanhood. Girls married young on the frontier, sometimes only a year or two older than she herself, but now she was confused and pleased at the attention from both of the young men. Somehow this seemed wrong, but she did not know why. “I’ve always been fond of Andrew, but I just want to be good friends with him and Jacob both.”
“I think that’s the way you should be,” Amanda remarked. “They are both such good boys.”
“If you had to choose between them, which one would you take?” Sarah asked. “I mean, if you had to choose right now.”
Beyond the Quiet Hills Page 16
