Beneath the Heavens

by Barlow, Lindsey;

  “I finished college and am trained for both elementary and secondary schools. After graduation I applied for various teaching positions. I was told that Tall Pine, Colorado had not had a school teacher for quite some time, and so, of course, I was more than eager to venture my way up here.” Abby smiled brightly.

  Oh, and my mother thought I was becoming shallow and men only wanted me for my father’s property so my parents sent me packing, which I am still more than a little hurt about. And one more thing—I dislike the cold.

  “Any questions?” Abby asked, smiling at Esther in silent thanks.

  A young girl’s hand shot up. She had left over breakfast in her hair, but clean clothes and a limp pink ribbon on the tip of her braid. Abby nodded at her to ask a question.

  “Ya married?” she asked loudly. Abby blushed, completely caught off guard. She was slow to answer.

  “No, not married.”

  “Why not?” another girl asked. Several of the parents chuckled, clearly amused by the show. Abby smiled and forced out a nervous laugh. She was not used to children or their blunt questions.

  Generally married teachers are frowned on, she thought resentfully, but instead answered, “I’m still young.”

  “How long do you plan on teaching here Miss Abigail?” Eliza’s pronounced voice sounded from the back.

  “As long as needed,” Abby replied, grateful for a genuine smile. She saw Toby wink again, the slimy snake that he was.

  “Do you have any family out here?” a red bearded man asked, holding a sleeping boy in his arms.

  “No,” Abby replied softly. The reality of what she was doing hit her like a lightning bolt. “No, I have no one out here.” She answered the next few questions confidently, though her hands trembled. Finally it was Eliza who announced that they best let the teacher get teaching. The parents and curious neighbors drifted off slowly, leaving Abby to face what seemed like a sea of restless children ready to attack.

  /

  “She seems young, doesn’t she?” Esther remarked to Eliza as they walked away from the schoolhouse to Esther’s red wagon with the yellow and purple flowers painted all over it like a gypsy caravan.

  Eliza shrugged. “We were young once, weren’t we? A girl’s gotta break away from the nest at some point; better young then too late,” Eliza said, and then frowned as they approached the wagon. “Esther, what were you thinking painting the wagon in such a manner?”

  Esther smiled. “This little wagon Michael and I patched up together. We read about some musical gypsies in a book and Michael insisted we make our own gypsy wagon.” She gave a helpless shake of her shoulders. “So we did,” she added brightly.

  Eliza rolled her eyes with a laugh as she grabbed hold of the wagon and pulled herself up.

  “You sure you don’t mind me going into town with you? I am taking the day off of work while my shop gets some repairs done and my wagon broke, and so I had to walk several miles this morning to fetch the Gable children. I am exhausted, and don’t think I could walk one more step.”

  Esther shook her head as she untied the reins. “Of course I don’t mind,” she smiled teasingly. “Don’t you have a horse, though? You know I would be happy to teach you how to ride.”

  Eliza shuddered. “Horses. I hate those beasts. One just about killed me the last time I rode, and that old thing you call my horse is only meant to pull a wagon. I rent him out to farmers and ranchers most of the time.”

  “You think you will ever ride again?”

  Eliza shook her head. “A tornado could be chasing me and I still would not ride.”

  “Point taken. In any case, I’m happy to give you a ride into town. I enjoy the company. It makes going into town for molasses much more enjoyable.”

  “What are you making with molasses? Bread?” Eliza asked curiously; most everyone knew that Esther was an exceptional cook. Those who had a baby on a day when she made bread, or cookies, or sticky buns were considered lucky. Esther would grace the labor with a hot plate of treats for the family before delivering a baby.

  “Gingerbread, actually. Uncle informed me last night he had a craving for gingerbread with lemon frosting, and since he has always been so kind to me, I try to comply with his odd cravings,” Esther laughed, giving the reins a quick shake to move the horse forward.

  “Gingerbread in the summer? That is odd, but then of course, is it ever truly summer in Tall Pine?” Eliza teased. She looked back pensively at the shrinking schoolhouse that seemed to blend in with the small meadow as they rode away.

  “You think that little kitten will do alright? Miss Abigail?” Eliza asked. “She looks like the pampered sort.”

  “It says a lot about her that she chose to come out here, though,” Esther defended. “I must say she looked very frightened. I will have to ask her to dinner soon before she gets too lonely.” Her eyes softened. “It’s easy for a young girl to get lonely.”

  Eliza made a “tsk” sound with her tongue and looked away past the dirt road. “Lonely? A girl with eyes like that will never be lonely—trust me,” she said, unable to hide the tinge of bitterness in her voice. Esther glanced over at Eliza, but did not say anything. She knew what conversation was coming. It was the same one Eliza always started with her. Like a boil that constantly needed to be lanced, Eliza needed to ask one question before she could enjoy any more conversation.

  “Do you ever get lonely?” Eliza finally asked. “Without a man, I mean, or is Michael enough?”

  “Michael is enough,” Esther said confidently. Though her lips remained in their perpetual soft smile, her eyes darkened like thunderclouds.

  Eliza nodded, knowing Esther’s past was locked tighter than a clamshell. The only reason she knew about it was Eliza herself had lived back East and had known Esther almost her whole life. “I think if I had a child I wouldn’t be so lonely, you know?” Eliza glanced down at her hands. “I also just want the experience of having my own hands comfort a child, to stroke their little chin, and chubby cheeks, bathe them, kiss them. All those things I see other women do, and I can’t.” She glanced over at Esther. “You think it’s wrong I want a child, even without a husband?”

  “Do you for sure not want a husband?”

  “Look at me, Esther. I got a hooked nose and a skinny body. A husband is never going to happen.”

  Esther frowned and cast Eliza a disapproving look. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about yourself that way, Eliza. You become prettier every year. Some people are like flowers; they reach a youthful peak of beauty and then fade. Others are like wine; they become better with age. You are the latter.”

  “I don’t drink wine,” Eliza said flatly.

  Esther smiled “Neither do I,” she laughed.

  Eliza sighed and stretched out her legs. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I don’t think it’s wrong.” Esther concluded, taking off her bonnet so that the breeze could play through her hair. “It’s natural to want to nurture, comfort, and care. I would say your feelings are in accordance with God, Eliza.”

  Eliza smiled gently then sighed as she opened her basket for an apple. She offered one to Esther who shook her head.

  “Do you think you will ever marry, Esther?”

  Esther shook her head again emphatically.

  “No, I have no desire to be with another man.” She paused, biting her bottom lip. “I don’t need or want a husband,” she added quickly before her silence became too loud. “I have been blessed enough to have a son who is the world to me. I can ask for no more. In fact, belonging to a man is something I avoid.” She laughed. “The same way you avoid horses.”

  Eliza nodded, knowing that it was the end of the discussion. The rest of the trip consisted of light conversation and laughter. Esther tried to appear unruffled by the conversation, but something was eating at her. She didn’t like it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

  Tall Pine had grown into a quaint, pretty town with cobbled streets, plenty of
shops, and even some entertainment. There was now a bookstore, a toyshop, a bakery, little restaurants, and a small theater. It was enough to entice most of the farmers and visitors to make the trip into town often. The two women walked methodically past the windows displaying bonnets and boots. They passed the fabric store and Esther stopped to see if she could find some trimmings to go with the red silky fabric Aunt Lily had brought her.

  “Now why exactly did your aunt buy you that glorious fabric?” Eliza smiled mischievously, “You know, I sell a lot of pretty dresses, some even questionable in their modesty, but I have nothing made with that quality of fabric.”

  Esther glanced at the perpetually busy clinic where she could see her aunt through the glass window writing down appointments and dealing with anxious patients. She was glad she was a midwife and did not work in a clinic or hospital.

  “My aunt is hoping that it might attract male attention,” Esther laughed with good humor. Although she had no intention of attracting a man, she was amused and touched by her aunt’s efforts.

  “Like you need the fabric to do that,” Eliza snorted out the compliment. “Why does she want you to get married?”

  Esther sighed, recalling the reasons her aunt had piled up for the past two years. “Well, she feels I should have more children and one can’t do that without a man. She says it is not safe for a woman to live alone, although I can shoot as good as anyone here, and Tall Pine isn’t exactly a dangerous area. I mean, poor Sheriff Ben is always looking for trouble so that he has enough work to do,” she said, knowing that in reality Colorado had plenty of crime. Tall Pine, for all its beauty and neighborliness, was no exception. “She also feels that if I don’t, I will die from a broken heart when Michael leaves me some day.” Esther tried to sound nonchalant, but that last reason made her throat feel dry. The thought of Michael growing up, getting married, having children… well, she wanted that for him, but it also broke her heart to think of him growing up and not being under her protection and care.

  Eliza smiled weakly. “Well, I must say that I agree: You will die of a broken heart… that is to say if you ever let him go,” she laughed.

  Esther chose a flame-red lace that would match the poppy colored fabric, as well as some buttons for Michael’s clothing. He was always managing to lose his buttons no matter how tightly she sewed them on. Under her bed she had a Christmas tin filled with buttons so that at a moment’s notice she could sew one on to his shirts, coats, and trousers. But the buttons she chose today were made from bone and had carved into them a bull’s head. He would ask if they looked like something his father would wear. She winced inwardly, knowing that of course she would say yes. With the buttons and lace in brown paper and placed carefully in her basket on top of the molasses, the two women walked out of the store and past the bakery.

  A wave of knee-dropping aromas always circulated from the bakery. The baker, Kyle Lampton, filled the windows with artistic delicacies ranging from spun sugar shaped like white roses to hearty honey-glazed pastries overflowing with sweetened walnuts.

  “My goodness, this place always smells so wonderful,” Eliza remarked. The bakery door jingled as Kyle, with his massive form, walked out. Upon seeing Eliza, he smiled until his dimples were as deep as canyons.

  “Well, Miss Eliza, I thank you, but I must say, my place never smells as good as you.” Wiggling his eyebrows with skillful flirtation, Esther couldn’t help but smile on behalf of her friend. Kyle Lampton was a respected, successful man, and he was making eyes at Eliza.

  A small group of young mothers standing at the corner giggled. Eliza just stared at him blankly as if she did not understand the compliment.

  “No, I think your bakery smells better,” Eliza said simply with a nod. One might have been discussing the weather and if it were to rain, or not, with how blandly she said it. Kyle was not to be discouraged. He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and took a deliberate step forward. Esther noticed a small mist of flour float off of his shoulders, much how she imagined snow falling off of Saint Nicholas. Saint Nicholas! That is who Kyle Lampton reminded her of.

  “Really, huh?” Kyle chuckled. He leaned in a little, inhaling a whiff of Eliza’s hair. The young mothers giggled again, and Eliza frowned and leaned back looking confused.

  Kyle straightened himself and sighed in delight. “Honey,” he stated. “Honey is what you smell like.”

  “Honey doesn’t have a smell,” Eliza said flatly, rolling her eyes.

  Again Kyle took another step forward, a rather large one, until he was no more than a few inches away from her. “Honey does have a smell and it smells like you, but one has to taste something in order to truly smell it. Wouldn’t you agree?” His eyes sparkled with the innuendo.

  Esther was glad Michael was not with her, or she would have had to shush poor Kyle for impropriety in front of children. Maybe he was not a good candidate for Saint Nicholas after all.

  In any case, she had to admit that she was enjoying the show, although she could not decide who was more entertaining, the impudent, giant Kyle, or the clueless, tiny Eliza.

  “Hmm, I never thought of that,” Eliza bit her lip in thought, and Esther looked away when Kyle’s eyes widened and stared at Eliza’s mouth. “Well, it was nice chatting, but I must get going.” Eliza spun around and continued walking, leaving Kyle to draw his thick eyebrows into a clump of confusion.

  He looked at Esther as if he just now noticed that she existed. “Is she always so—” he paused, searching for a word. He decided to just nod in Eliza’s direction as if that explained it all.

  Esther nodded. “Keep at it, Mr. Lampton,” she encouraged with an amused smile before turning around to catch up with Eliza.

  “Why are those girls laughing at me?” Eliza whispered to Esther, sounding hurt. They passed the young mothers who all nodded in polite acknowledgment.

  “Do you really not know?” Esther asked, looking at her friend in amazement. “I am no expert on men, and even I could tell what Kyle was doing.”

  Eliza frowned, slowing her pace a bit. “They are laughing at Kyle?”

  “Oh, my dear friend, yes; Kyle was flirting with you… shamelessly.”

  “Flirting?” Eliza asked incredulously.

  Esther squeezed her friend’s hand. “It is not an absurd idea Eliza, and yes, he was flirting.”

  “Flirting,” Eliza said slowly, tasting the word on her tongue. She stopped walking and looked up at Esther. “He couldn’t have been flirting. It is simply not possible.”

  Esther sighed. She could not believe that Eliza was so oblivious. “Yes, he was, Eliza, and you treated him like some annoying bug that you brush away.”

  “Esther, he was not flirting,” Eliza insisted, her voice rising just a little.

  Esther lips parted; she hesitated before speaking, studying Eliza’s face and noting traces of fear.

  “Is it so hard for you to believe that a man would flirt with you? Do I really need to put a wine stamp on you to remind you that you have improved with age?”

  Eliza’s gaze dropped, her chin lowering in pursuit. “It is just not possible, Esther. Kyle is just a silly man who says silly things. He says them to everyone.”

  “No, he does not, Eliza,” Esther protested, feeling both frustrated and sad for her clueless friend.

  Eliza looked up, her face firm, and a resolute expression in place. “Kyle Lampton is a handsome and successful man. There is no way in heaven or hell that he was flirting with me, alright?” Eliza said stiffly.

  Esther wanted to protest but held her tongue instead. The thought of fallen hope might be too painful for Eliza, especially if she had experienced it before. Eliza probably did not want to fall for Kyle herself only to discover that he felt nothing for her. So instead, Esther nodded and the two women fell back into walking past the shops, both lost in their own thoughts.

  /

  Joseph sat solemnly, hardly aware that the Lieutenant was still talking. His mind was replaying the shot, th
e kill, the smell of blood, and Jesse’s last breath.

  “Joseph!” Lieutenant Baldwin practically shouted.

  Joseph looked up and straightened himself. “Excuse me Lieutenant, I… I am having a hard time concentrating today,” he apologized weakly. He didn’t feel like showing the normal respect and admiration he usually felt. Right now a giant hole had settled in his chest. Jesse had been a good man, a fine Ranger. True, he had his flaws. Most Rangers did. Jesse liked his drink and liked his women, but he had a good sense of humor and a love for justice, and he was dead. No family came to his funeral. No wife. No child. Just a few Rangers who were near the area. Such a good man, and no one to witness his farewell to the world.

  “Joseph,” Lieutenant Baldwin repeated again gently. “I was saying that I want you to take some time off. That’s an order.”

  Joseph scowled and leaned forward. “You blaming me for Jesse’s death, Lieutenant?” he asked angrily. Why else would he be ordered to take time off? Rangers never took holidays—or time to relax.

  “Joseph, you know I don’t blame you for that. Don’t make me gush like a woman and tell you that you are one of my finest captains, which you are.” Baldwin sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You’ve never lost a man Joe, always took a bullet to save your partners, but there was nothing you could have done in this case.”

  “I could have stayed clear of the border.”

  Baldwin frowned. “You were ordered to go settle the border, Joe. Heavens, I’ve sent you into the heart of Mexico before. How were you supposed to know you were going to be ambushed?”

  Joseph looked down at his calloused hands. His gut had told him to go no further; his instincts had screamed at him. His mother would call it God telling him that danger was ahead, but Joseph didn’t feel a man should rely on God’s whims. Instinct, however, should never be ignored. It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

  “So why exactly do you want me to take time off, Lieutenant?” he asked, clearing his throat. Might as well hear the reason.