Beneath the Heavens

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Beneath the Heavens Page 24

by Barlow, Lindsey;


  Esther turned to Joseph, choosing to ignore, at least for now, his previous comment. “Thank you again, Joseph; I truly appreciate it. Sorry if I seemed ungrateful. Today was not my finest moment,” she laughed nervously.

  Joseph chuckled. “Why Miss Esther, I did not think it possible for you to have any moments other than fine. It makes me glad to know that you might be human after all.”

  Esther laughed with a small shake of her head. “Oh, believe me when I say that I have my flaws.” She gave him a good-bye nod and then began to walk back to her newly-mended wagon.

  Joseph followed. “What are you doing?” Esther asked him with a frown. “You do not need to walk me to my wagon.”

  “You’re going to the Higgins, correct?

  “Well, yes, but I have other appointments also so you need not spend the day with me,” she said, frantically thinking of how to convince him not to come without being rude.

  “I am looking forward to it. I would love to hear about midwifery.”

  Esther suddenly laughed, her head falling back, her eyes twinkling. Joseph looked with surprise, loving how her freckles caught the light of the sun and strands of her hair fell around her face.

  “What is so funny?”

  Esther looked at him still laughing. “Interested in midwifery? Come Joseph, you can do better than that. No man is interested in midwifery.”

  Joseph gave a defeated shrug and chuckled, “Very well, maybe I don’t want to know all the intimate details, but I do want to know about you and what you do.”

  “And if I choose not to tell anything about me?” she asked with an arched brow.

  Joseph stopped walking and turned to face her straight on. “Esther, you name one man who wouldn’t enjoy a silent ride next to a beautiful woman. If you want to talk, I would love to talk. If you want to remain silent, well I do well with silence.”

  Esther was unable to keep a straight face and laughed again. “Very well. Come along, although I am tempted to scare you away by telling you all the details. Trust me, the intimacies of midwifery have sent men hurling their dinners.”

  Joseph shook his head. “Oh, Miss Esther, when are you to understand that nothing will scare me away.”

  /

  “He can’t come in! Get out of here!” Toby shouted while shrinking beneath Joseph’s gaze.

  “Mr. Higgins, Mary is in a critical condition. I need to see her for her safety as well as your child’s,” Esther pleaded.

  Toby scoffed. “Who knows if that bastard of a child is even mine.”

  Before Esther could reply, he was flung back as Joseph drove through the door and into Toby.

  “Trespassing!” Toby shouted. Esther hurried in; the stench was worse than before. Toby’s drinking was escalating, and she guessed Mary was too miserable and depressed to do any cleaning such as empty the waste or wash the dishes. Joseph seemed unaltered as he picked Toby off the ground, holding him by the shirt.

  “Now you listen here, you scum; if you don’t allow Miss Esther to do her job and that woman or child in there dies, then it will be known that you allowed that, and you will be responsible for their deaths.” He dropped Toby. “Men who are imprisoned for killing their wife and child don’t last long. They are usually murdered before a rope can even touch their necks; they die in ways that leave them begging to be hanged, understand?”

  Esther stared wide-eyed at Joseph. This was no false bravado or temper. He was calm with a face of steel, rather impressive in a frightening way.

  Toby scrambled up. “I’m going for a drink. You’ll find me out for a drink every morning when you come by,” he spat at Esther.

  Joseph nodded. “Wise man,” he said quietly before Toby practically ran out, cursing under his breath. Joseph nodded for Esther to go on. “I will be outside if you need me.”

  Esther gave him a weak smile and began to turn away when she stopped. “Joseph,” she called out to him. “I know you just fixed my wagon and took care of Toby, but as long as you’re here you might as well be useful. Would you fill up some buckets of water for me? They are in the wagon.”

  Joseph nodded. “This place has a pump?” he asked.

  Esther shook her head. “No, but there is a well in the back. Can you leave the buckets outside this door?” She motioned towards Mary’s room. Joseph agreed, and Esther could not help but feel grateful that he’d come with her.

  Mary was in a bad state. “Why did you chase away Toby? Suppose he don’t come back?” she wailed, her limp hair damp with sweat.

  “He will come back,” Esther reassured her. “With such a pretty and loving wife, he has to come back, yes?” she smiled and pressed down on the baby. The child was lower, very low. The heartbeat was steady and the size seemed to be normal from what she could tell. When Esther removed Mary’s blanket a thick and fishy stench tainted the air so strongly that Esther’s eyes stung.

  “It’s been itchy down there,” Mary groaned. “Itchy and swollen like.

  Esther nodded. She was worried that infection would come soon with the lack of bathing and hygiene.

  Please dear Lord, protect this child from any negligence, she prayed.

  Mary would have to be bathed thoroughly every day. Thank goodness for Joseph who had filled every bucket with water to the brim. It would have taken her too much time to do it alone.

  After bathing Mary, applying ointments, and hearing the proposal story one more time, Esther began massaging her legs and ankles.

  “Oh, it feels so good,” Mary sighed with delight. “I ain’t never been touched gentle like this.”

  Esther looked over the swollen legs. Touch was powerful; it could heal, bring comfort, show love, or it could hurt, scar, and ruin.

  “What do you mean you’ve never been touched gently Mary?” she asked. Perhaps if she could understand this lost soul, she could know how to help her.

  “Was always being hit on you see. Ma was angry at me. Said I ruined her life. Da—well I never saw Da. He had other children with other women he liked better.” Her face lit up. “Men liked to touch me once I got me a figure and some pretty eyes,” she said proudly, “but it was never gentle like this.”

  Esther nodded, imagining a poor and uneducated girl doing whatever she could for love and acceptance. Perhaps this baby would fulfill that need. She prayed that it would. She also prayed Toby would soon be out of Mary’s life since no baby should have to suffer a father like him.

  /

  Abigail about tripped on her own feet when Will ran into the schoolhouse breathless. He clumsily found a seat making several students laugh at his awkward arrival.

  “Pastor Will, how nice of you to join us,” Abby said calmly. She was determined not to show that he had upset her.

  Will nodded, studying her face. “Have you told them about the…” he mouthed the word “play”?

  Abby shook her head. “No, but they know at the end of school today I have a special announcement, right class?” she asked. The children shouted in different ways that they were ready to hear the announcement now. Abby grinned, admitting to herself that she had purposely held off telling them about the play just in case Will showed up. She wanted him to be there and see the children’s faces.

  Will suddenly stood up. “Well, I think now is as good a time as any.” He stood next to Abby, their arms grazing one another’s. Abby felt a stream of sparks shoot through her at his touch. She wanted his touch, wanted to see if he felt as giddy as she did.

  “All right every one, Miss Abigail has come up with a brilliant idea,” Will announced, smacking his hands together in a large casual clap. “She has decided that we will be doing a Thanksgiving play for Tall Pine.”

  A few exclamations bubbled up.

  “That means I will be here every day to help out,” Will said, looking straight ahead other than a fleeting glance at Abby whose lips were pressed tightly together in a teacher-type smile. Little did he know that inside she was smiling broadly. He would be here every day! “I also have
talked to some of your parents, and Miss Abigail has been making inquiries, and after the play, we are to have a Thanksgiving feast!” Will practically shouted his last announcement, which catalyzed cheers and yells as well as jumping and spinning from the children.

  Abby laughed joyously. She loved seeing other people happy, especially children. Her heart did a little thump. What would it be like to see her own children smile and get excited? Would it bring her as much joy—more?

  “Well I’d say that had the desired effect,” Will chuckled. He looked over at Abby who was calming the children and beginning to explain how the practicing would work.

  Will sat back down, watching Abby talk with her bright eyes and active hand gestures. She talked as much with her hands as her mouth, and he loved it. He loved everything about her. After wrestling his emotions for a whole week, convincing himself that Abby was not his type, he had come to realize that she was exactly his type. He had confused her strength and her happy character with what he had thought was a shallow personality when in fact, she had more depth than he did. Every woman he had courted, save Esther who never gave him the chance, used him and his position as a caring pastor to solve their problems, but not one had ever asked him about himself. Not one had asked him about his faith, or why he became a pastor, or what did he like to do. No one besides Abby had asked him such things, and come to think about it, he had done a horrible job asking her about herself. He just wasn’t used to it. Most girls were eager to tell him about themselves. Abby talked a lot—she analyzed, pondered, and philosophized about many things out loud—but hardly about herself. She was wonderful, the perfect pastor’s wife—selfless and gentle—but more importantly, the perfect woman for Will. She was full of life and good humor. Most of the time Will uplifted others, but Abby, without even trying, uplifted him.

  “Will. Will?” Abby asked.

  The class laughed when Will jerked his head high, “What?”

  Abby smiled. “I have the start of a script. Will you help me cast it? We can start with volunteers.”

  Will nodded. He wished to heaven that he could take Abby to the barn dance, but she would understand once he explained why he had to take Rachel. Especially when Rachel told him that young men hardly asked her to go with them anywhere. What was he supposed to say after that? He had to invite her. Still, he had decided not to worry too much about the Harvest Festival. Abby was indeed understanding, and to his knowledge, there were no other young men who she was interested in.

  /

  Esther was surprised how much she enjoyed the rest of her visits. Melissa was doing better; she still felt a trifle sad at times, but then would go for a walk, read a book, or do something that made her feel better. Suzy was still nervous, but growing more confident especially since her baby had begun to move more and more. After each visit Joseph would ask about the patient and she found it easy to talk to him. He genuinely seemed interested, asking questions and even trying to relate them to life on the ranch—the closest he’d been to pregnancy.

  “I doubt heifers get feelings of sadness after having a baby,” Esther laughed.

  Joseph did not look convinced. “You never know. A heifer has a heart and soul, cares for her calf. Perhaps I ought to start giving my female cows massages and nap times.”

  Esther narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “This is why men aren’t midwives.”

  Joseph gave a nod of agreement. “Maybe. What made you become a midwife?”

  Esther bit her lip trying to think of a way to explain without revealing too much. “I studied nursing back East, and when I moved here with my uncle, he took over my training. The people here trust me and know I am good at what I do. Back East I was still uncertain if I wanted to be a midwife. I loved the joy that babies brought and wanted to be a part of it, but the worry of having a life in my hands made me feel so terribly responsible, but when I came out here I had no choice. I needed a way to pay for my keep, even with my uncle’s generosity.” Esther twirled her fingers. She had said enough. It was time to change the subject. “Michael tells me you have a ranch?”

  Joseph nodded. “It’s my stepfather’s. It’s the third largest in Texas—beautiful ranch, green and fresh.”

  “Green? Texas is green?” Esther asked with an unbelieving smile.

  “Texas has its green parts. It is not like Massachusetts mind you, but it is green. We have hot summers, but also cool winters with good rain. When you get closer to Mexico, then it becomes dry and dusty.”

  “Have you ever been to Mexico?” Esther asked, her interest piquing.

  Joseph’s eyes clouded over, the left muscle in his jaw ticking. “Several times; it’s a favorite hiding place for criminals. I’ve had to track them down there.”

  Esther wanted to ask more, but she gathered from his expression that it was a sore subject. She tried to remain silent, but curiosity got the better of her.

  “Do you mind if I ask about what criminals you were chasing?” she asked quietly and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

  Joseph stared into the distance; his jaw ticked again. “The last man I chased down in Mexico had murdered a bartender just because he was angry. The bartender’s eldest son was there working as well and he tried to avenge his father and,” Joseph shifted his shoulders, “well, you can guess what happened. That was just the beginning of the tragedy. This bartender had three other sons, each of whom tried to avenge the deaths of their father and elder brothers. Finally, a heart-stricken widow who had lost all her sons and husband came to us begging for justice after it was clear that the local Sheriff could do nothing.”

  Esther felt sick. She thought something terrible had happened to her, but it was not to be compared to this poor widow. Esther couldn’t imagine losing her son. The mere thought shook her very soul.

  “I tracked him down to Mexico,” Joseph continued. “Had to do some serious investigating before I found him. The man was smart and one hell of a shooter. When I found him, I tried to bring him back for a trial, but he would not have it. Killing four men had given him arrogance in his gun-slinging skills. He fired at me and took off like a coward.” Joseph pulled down his shirt at the neck to show a twisted scar along his collarbone. “He thought he had killed me, but I had moved in time. I knew if he got any further in Mexico I would lose him for good, so, hurting and bleeding, I went after him.”

  “Did you kill him?” Esther asked with no judgment in her tone.

  Joseph gave a one-jerk nod. “Didn’t have a choice. I tried wounding him, but when he shot me in the arm I had to take him down.” Josephs grimaced with the memory. “Didn’t trust anyone to stitch me up down there, so holding a leather strip between my teeth I dug out the bullet and stitched up my own skin.” He grinned at her, “So yes, I have been to Mexico,but I can’t say that I enjoyed it.”

  “I’m surprised you used leather and not a strong drink to help you dig out the bullet. That must have been very painful.”

  Joseph nodded. “It was, but I’ve never been one for what you call strong drink. My old man was always downing whiskey, wine, anything he could get with alcohol. It helped him become numb to the things he saw. Eventually, he preferred drinking over everything—even his own son and wife. He did some ugly things when drunk, and it made me swear that I would never go near the stuff.”

  Esther blinked at Joseph. She was seeing him in a new light. She knew he was a good-natured man, a kind and strong man, but the fact that he had seen and experienced terrible things without becoming coarse said something remarkable about his inner fortitude and heart. He, like her, had drunken out of the bitter cup without becoming bitter, something she herself had struggled with.

  Suddenly wanting to know more about Joseph she asked, “If your father took to drinking, what did you do to numb the pain? Turn to God?”

  Joseph sighed and rolled his neck. “That was my mother’s advice and my stepfather’s, but I could never bring myself to believe God truly cared. I believed in His existence, but I s
aw too many horrors to believe that He worried about others and answered their prayers. I just had to turn off my emotions, control my feelings. Abby says that is why I have never succeeded in a relationship,” he laughed.

  “You don’t allow yourself to feel?” she asked curiously.

  Joseph’s face softened. He looked over at her tenderly. “Until now,” he said softly.

  Esther’s heart leapt. Whether out of fear or joy she didn’t know. Breaking eye contact, she looked ahead. The clouds had darkened with a promise of rain and the trees covered the mountains in shades of gold and red. She loved autumn, especially in Tall Pine. Soon there would be Christmas trees, nativity sets in the windows, and the smell of mothers baking sugar cookies with their children. She loved this beautiful place.

  As if reading her thoughts Joseph asked, “Would you ever leave Colorado?”

  Esther shrugged. “No, I don’t think I could. I love it here.” Except for the winter she added silently. “It’s beautiful, the people are good, and it’s become home.”

  “You know, Texas is beautiful, too,” Joseph said with a nervous twitch to his lips. “My stepfather wants me to take over half the ranch, eventually all of it. You can ride your horse for miles both to the east and west and still be on the ranch, and you’re not far from town which has a huge bookstore.” Joseph grinned at her. “It even has books about wolves.”

  Esther laughed and twirled a loose strand of her hair. “Texas, huh?” she said.

  Joseph swallowed. Was now the time? Should he tell her that she could come to Texas, live in Texas as his wife? His parents would love her. He loved her and he would do everything he could to make his home hers.

  Was it too soon?

  If he chose to take the ranch, and that choice depended on Esther, his mother would be thrilled if he returned with a wife and son. Jefferson would be proud. The ranch, a family…it seemed almost too good to hope for, but it was a dream that would be worthless without the woman he adored. Joseph glanced at Esther who was enjoying the scenery around them. He did love her passionately and fully. The more he saw her, heard her, and talked to her, the more his love grew. Despite his sudden urge to propose and seal it with a kiss, a hand in her hair, their bodies pressed together, he decided to wait. If he acted too soon, he could chase her away.

 

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