The Last Bloom

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  “I believe… I heard she hung herself,” he finally admitted.

  Cassia gasped. “And if Alma Lee doesn’t get the help you suggested, do you think she’ll do the same?”

  He slowed the wagon and pulled off onto a dirt road. Upon coming to a complete stop, he turned to fully face her. “The circumstances weren’t the same, Cassia. That other woman had a history of miscarriages and stillborn pregnancies. She was under great pressure because her husband wanted an heir, and she couldn’t seem to give him one. And when he left her for another woman…a woman who later bore him a son…”

  “The first wife couldn’t handle it,” she concluded for him.

  “But Alma Lee’s situation is different,” he added quickly. “She has a family that loves her and is standing by her. Plus she’s young and has the chance to marry again one day and have a family.”

  “And yet you still thought to mention psychiatric help,” she countered.

  “I’m a doctor, Cassia. My job is to make every patient aware of the medical help available. If they decide not to heed my advice and suggestions, that’s their choice. But I’m bound by oath to do no harm, and that means doing everything I can to heal and cure those in my care. And to shed hope by delivering accurate information on further treatment, if in fact there should be any available.”

  “Oh, Brodie, a terrible—horrible thing happened today,” she whispered, tears slipping down her face. “To love and wed a man, have him die, and then to be so grieved that you conjure up being pregnant just so…so…” Her sentence ended in a heart-wrenching sob.

  He slid closer and pulled her to him, cradling her body against his. The feel of her so close warmed every fiber of his being. “Cassia. My sweet, Cassia,” he muttered against her temple.

  She nestled her face beneath his chin and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Why do bad things happen to good people, Brodie?”

  He caressed her soft hair. “I wish I had an answer for that, Cassia. But you know, as a reverend’s daughter, there’s a reason for all things.”

  “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean we should like it,” she sobbed.

  “No, we never have to like it.”

  “Alma Lee loved Vincent so much. Can you even imagine such a love?” She pulled back to look into his eyes.

  “Yes.” He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “I can imagine such a love.” He gently traced the outline of her full lips. “I can imagine it clearly.”

  “Oh, Brodie,” she whispered.

  Before she could say more, he covered her mouth with his. Her lips were warm, soft, and sweet. By her design the kiss deepened, as she cupped the back of his head with her palm and pressed him closer. His heart raced, his body heated in the throes of passion, and he became totally lost within her embrace. And it was at that very instant he knew he’d never want to stop kissing this woman or ever be too far away from her. He never wanted a day to begin or end without her beside him.

  “Cassia,” he whispered against her lips, “I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you in my father’s office.”

  She pulled back to search his face. “I’ve wanted the same.”

  He raised a brow. “You have?”

  “Yes,” she breathlessly admitted. “I can’t begin to tell you the nights I lay awake in my bed, trying to figure out a way to let you know my heart.”

  “I know perfectly well about those nights, as I’ve been plagued with them too. So much I wanted to tell you how you make me feel…how I feel about you…every bit of you. From your eyes the color of my favorite marble to your perfectly painted pink toes.”

  She giggled. “And so what’s taken you so long?”

  “When Tucker came back I thought…”

  “Tucker and I are friends.” She emphasized the word friend. Then caressing his cheek with a finger, she added, “And that’s all we’ll every just be.” She cocked her head sideways, her light blue eyes twinkling now with seduction instead of tears. “And what of you and me, Brodie, what will we be?”

  He smiled. “If I have my way—forever bound, my love—forever bound.”

  ****

  Upon entering her home, she found her parents in the parlor, sitting in their usual chairs. Her father read the newspaper, and her mother worked on her latest piece of embroidery.

  “Are you hungry, honey?” Her mother never looked up from her work.

  “I don’t think I could stomach anything at this point, Mama.” She sat on the sofa.

  Immediately her mother raised her gaze. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

  Her father lowered his newspaper and waited for her reply.

  “No, not really,” she admitted, and then through more sobs she explained what happened to Alma Lee. “I asked Brodie why bad things happen to good people, and he pointed out something Papa preached—there’s a reason for all things.”

  Her father arched a brow. “Well, I’m sure glad someone was listening in Sunday school.” He shook his head and smiled. “I always liked that lad.” He leaned forward and reached out to lay a consoling hand upon her arm. “Obviously you still question Brodie’s recall.”

  “I believe my answer to him was there’s nothing that says we have to like the reason,” she said.

  Her father squeezed her arm affectionately, his large, smooth hand now dotted with age spots. “Aye, that’s the truth of it. But if you’re a strong believer in the Lord, you know that He is always present and at work in your heart and on your behalf, even if you can’t see that at the time. And in faith, one day, you’ll understand God’s reasoning, as you realize His love has a hand in everything.”

  “It was all so horrible, Papa,” she whispered. “I just wish it were in my power to help that family…more than in a medical way.”

  “You do have the power,” her father said.

  She frowned. “What power is that?”

  “Knowing the Lord as you do has given you strength and motivation, and you rest in the power of His many extensions of grace, passing them onto others,” her father explained.

  “And what are extensions of grace, Papa?”

  “There are all kinds of unselfish acts we can do for one another,” he said. “Like the hope you’ve given the Beachums when you got Olivia’s sewing business started.”

  “But what then can I possibly do for Alma Lee and her family?”

  “You’ll know what grace to extend when the time comes, baby girl.”

  Cassia left the bedroom door ajar, as she combed out her hair. Every bone in her body screamed with fatigue, but her spirit was renewed—thanks to the ever wise and loving father she’d been blessed with. His words circled in her thoughts as she readied herself to climb into bed.

  “Could you use a bedtime story?” her mother joked, peeking into the room.

  “Have you got a good one to tell me?” she teased in return.

  Her mother opened the door wider and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “If I remember right, you were always partial to the one where the elves helped the shoemaker.”

  Cassia smiled, sitting beside her and sighed wistfully. “If only that’s what it would take to appease me now.”

  Her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Then what would it take to appease you now?”

  She giggled nervously. “Well, Brodie had a really good idea. The best ever, actually.”

  Her mother rested her forehead against Cassia’s. “Do tell.”

  Cassia’s cheeks warmed. “He…well he…he kissed me.”

  Her mother pulled back, arching a brow. “And what did you do?”

  She cleared her throat and sighed again. “I kissed him back.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alma Lee’s medical circumstance fell on a Tuesday, and Cassia was scheduled for a follow-up by Friday. But on Thursday she ran into John Tyler at the general store purchasing lye soap. When she inquired about Alma Lee, John Tyler assured her everything was fine, and she needn’t rush to vi
sit their homestead. Since spring was the time flowers bloomed and babies were born, her caseload of birthing mothers had her working from sunup to sundown. So, after John Tyler’s affirmation that Alma Lee was doing well, Cassia thought pushing the follow-up visit to Monday of the following week wouldn’t hurt anything until she met Murial Dodd at a church function on Friday night. From the very reliable mouth of Eagle’s Landing’s school teacher, she learned John Tyler and Ruth Ann hadn’t attended class all week.

  Obviously, John Tyler had lied about what was really going on at the Boyd household. Therefore, waiting until Monday for a visit was no longer an option. And so was the reason, though it was her only day off in over a week, Cassia rose early on Saturday morning. After downing a cup of coffee, she gathered her medical gear and headed over to check on Alma Lee.

  When she rode her bicycle into the Boyd’s back yard, she spotted Ruth Ann standing on the porch, her thin arms reaching out to the clothes line to hang towels, or what appeared to be towels, except they were all cut into a V-shape with lace-like ties hanging off from each side.

  “Mornin’ Nurse Holmes,” Ruth Ann greeted her, never missing a beat as she hung one triangle towel after another. Though the young girl was nearing thirteen, her tiny, thin frame gave her the appearance of being much younger. And her short stature left her struggling to reach the clothesline. “Looks like we might be in for some rain. I’m hopin’ it comes after I’ve taken in the wash, though.”

  After securing her bicycle against the side of the house and grabbing her medical bag, she climbed the porch stairs. “What are these you’re hanging,” she probed, reaching out to touch one.

  Ruth Ann halted her work. “They’re special undies. I made them for Alma Lee to wear.”

  She frowned. “Why would Alma Lee need special undies?”

  Ruth Ann bit her bottom lip and hung her head.

  “Ruth Ann, look at me,” she coaxed.

  The young girl slowly raised her gaze, deep blue eyes pooling with tears.

  Cassia reached out and pushed aside a long, golden strand of Ruth Ann’s hair from her forehead. “Tell me what’s going on, Ruth Ann, so I can help.”

  “I had to cut down the towels like this and sew them as I did so’s they’d fit Alma Lee’s bottom ’cause she don’t know how to use the outhouse anymore and does her business in her pants,” Ruth Ann whispered.

  Her frown deepened. “When did Alma Lee’s incontinence begin?”

  Ruth Ann’s blond brows furrowed. “Her what?”

  Cassia rephrased the question. “When did Alma Lee begin messing herself?”

  “Right that next morning after learnin’ she weren’t gonna have a baby. She never came down to breakfast, so Ma went upstairs to check on her and found Alma Lee had wet herself and the bed. It took two of us—me and Ma—to wash and change her and to clean the mattress which was nearly ruined. And when Alma Lee kept making a mess, Ma figured she couldn’t sleep in her bed no more. So we piled a bunch of quilts on the floor for her to sleep on since it’s easier to keep washin’ them instead of the mattress.”

  A lumped formed in her throat. “So you’re using the towels as diapers?”

  Ruth Ann nodded, the tears spilling down her cheeks. “Best I could come up with since ya can’t buy real diapers for grown people.”

  She swallowed the nausea rising to choke her. “What else is going on, Ruth Ann?”

  The younger girl hesitated to answer.

  “I’m here to help your sister—to help all of you,” she added, taking Ruth Ann’s hand in hers. “But I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Alma Lee’s actin’ like a baby now, Nurse Holmes.” Ruth Ann sobbed. “She don’t know how to do nothin’ for herself. Me and Ma feed her, change her, dress her, and bathe her.”

  Cassia blinked back her tears. “Oh, sweet Lord, no.”

  “She don’t talk no more either, just sits and stares. And when she lies down to go to bed, she cries and cries until Ma goes into her room to sing her a song.”

  “You hush your mouth, Ruth Ann,” John Tyler snapped, as he swung open the back door and walked onto the porch. “What did Ma say about ya tellin’ our business to others?”

  “I ain’t gossipin’, John Tyler, honest I weren’t,” Ruth Ann quickly added in her own defense. “Just lettin’ Nurse Holmes in on what’s goin’ on so’s she can help.”

  “It’s true, John Tyler,” she said. “I mean no harm, really. I just want to help, that’s all. I want things to get back to normal for all of you. I want to see Alma Lee well again and make it possible for you and Ruth Ann to be able to attend school.”

  John Tyler crossed his arms across his chest and blocked the entrance into the house. “It ain’t no one’s business if we don’t go to school, or what’s goin’ on here with Alma Lee. We Boyds can take care of our own.”

  “That’s not true, John Tyler. If you two stay absent from school for too long, the authorities will come by to see why,” she explained. “And with your sister now as sick as she is, the last thing your mother needs or wants is any attention called to this household.”

  “Alma Lee’s just sad now, is all, ’cause she ain’t havin’ no baby. But she’ll come out of it, and until she does, we’re gonna be here to help Ma. And there better not be no one settin’ foot on our land ’cause that’s trespassin’.”

  “I promise, none of that needs to happen if you’ll let me help,” she vowed.

  “We can trust Nurse Holmes, John Tyler. I know we can. I feel it in my bones,” Ruth Ann said, then quickly added. “After all, Alma Lee herself took a shine to her.”

  “Hush, Ruth Ann,” her brother snarled. “Ya need to leave things up to me, now that Pa’s gone. I’m the man of the house.” To Cassia he said, “It’d be best if ya left us alone now, Nurse Holmes.”

  “Please, let her have a chance to help our sister,” Ruth Ann pleaded.

  He squinted at Ruth Ann. “All Alma Lee needs is her family, and if ya can’t understand that, then I’ll have to take ya into the woodshed and give ya another whoopin’ like I had to do two nights ago when ya left Ma’s sewing scissors in Alma Lee’s room, and she cut off all her hair.”

  Cassia gasped.

  Ruth Ann’s face reddened. “Ya had no right to shame me like that, John Tyler, ’cause ya ain’t my ma or my pa. Besides,” she added, “Pa stopped takin’ the paddle to me when I was nine ’cause it weren’t no longer fittin’.”

  “Didn’t ya hear what I said, little sister? I’m the man of the house now,” he shouted. “And it’s up to me to keep ya in line so’s ya don’t go astray. And if that means taken ya over my knee so’s ya behave yerself, that’s what I’ll do.”

  Tears of humiliation and frustration wet Ruth Ann’s cheeks. “But it weren’t fittin’, John Tyler. Ma even said what ya did to me was wrong…said it weren’t decent ’cause yer my brother. I’m growin’ into a young woman.”

  John Tyler chuckled sarcastically. “Ya ain’t no young woman. Yer just a skinny little girl who still sucks her thumb at night and is afraid to sleep in the dark. Shucks, ya aint even grown boobs yet.”

  “That ain’t so!” Ruth Ann shouted, her pale complexion reddening. “And if ya ever try to spank me again, Ma said she’ll give ya a whoopin’ ya won’t forget.”

  “Well, she’ll have to catch me first,” John Tyler retorted sharply.

  “Stop it—both of you.” Cassia placed her bag at her feet. Her outburst gained their silence and immediate attention as both siblings turned their gaze to her. With hands on hips, she continued to reprimand them. “Do you two really believe you’re helping your mother get through this time with Alma Lee by fighting like a pair of vicious dogs?”

  “No, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

  “John Tyler, a man…a real man, one who is smart, kind, and good, as I know your father would expect you to be in his absence, doesn’t run his household with violence.”

  “I know lots of people wh
o have a Pa who does just that—rules the household with a stern look and a switch to the backside.” Then he added, “Ain’t no one disrespecting their word, that’s for certain.”

  “That’s not respect their families have for them, but fear. Would you rather be feared or loved?”

  John Tyler hesitated. “Loved, I reckon.”

  “Then from this day on, you are to keep your hands off Ruth Ann, or any female, for that matter. It doesn’t take much of a man to beat on a woman. A man like that, in my eyes, is nothing but a coward. And skipping school will not make you a wise man, or a man who can work a decent job for decent wages. Without a good pay, you’ll never be able to support this family very well, or any other family you might have.”

  John Tyler hung his head. “I’m sorry, Ruth Ann, for beatin’ on ya the way I did. It was purely indecent of me to take such liberties.” He leveled his gaze to meet his sister’s. “Can ya find it in ya heart to forgive me?”

  Ruth Ann ran to throw her arms around her brother’s neck. “Yes, oh, yes. I forgive ya, John Tyler. Make sure it never happens again.”

  Her heart warmed at the love the two siblings held for each other. Their misguided behavior was a direct result of a home in horrible discontent and sorrow. “Now,” she said, retrieving her bag, “will you step aside, John Tyler, and let me enter the house?”

  He nodded, pushing his sister gently from him, and opened the screen door.

  “Come, Nurse Holmes.” Ruth Ann reached for Cassia’s hand. “I’ll take ya to see Alma Lee.”

  John Tyler made his way to the kitchen, shoulders slumped. “Hold on a moment, Ruth Ann.” She followed the young man.

  He sat at the table and cradled his head in his hands. Cassia glanced around the small kitchen—poorly furnished with old-fashioned appliances, as the Boyd home still had no electricity or indoor plumbing. Yet everything was in its right place and scrubbed clean. Touches of family life surrounded her at every turn…newly washed and starched curtains hung on the windows, a freshly baked pie sat cooling on the counter, dirty boots were respectfully left at the back door, not to mar a clean floor, laundry was neatly folded in a wicker basket, waiting to be put away, and the sound of a clock, faithfully striking the hour. This was home to these people—and its serenity, its structural dynamics, had been sorely compromised and turned upside down and inside out by death and sorrow.