Daylight Comes

by Judith Miller

  Truth’s lower lip trembled. “You didn’t agree, did you?” Her eyes shone with fear—or was that anger?

  “Course he did, gal. Why, jest being asked to serve is a genuine honor.” Ezekiel leaned forward and rested his long arms across his thighs.

  Moses avoided his wife’s piercing gaze. “You’re correct, Ezekiel, I did agree. They were pleased by my acceptance. In fact, I was on the ballot with the final contender.”

  “A white fella?” Ezekiel rubbed his large hands together and leaned even closer.

  “Yes.”

  “Now ain’ that somethin’ to be proud of! Did ya make a decent showin’ when the votin’ was all said and done?”

  Moses nodded. “I won the bid.”

  CHAPTER

  2

  Iwon the bid. Nothing had been the same since Moses had uttered those four words. Truth pulled the bedcovers over her head, wanting to remain buried in the darkness just a while longer. Just a while longer and then I’ll get up. Just a while longer and everything will be fine. Just a while longer and I can accept Moses’s decision. Just a while longer and then I can breathe. Really breathe.

  The air had rushed from her lungs in one giant whoosh the night he’d announced his candidacy, and she hadn’t been able to inhale a deep breath since. The unexpected pronouncement continued to swirl in her head by day and visit her dreams by night. Not only had his revelation surprised her, it had rendered her powerless. She’d taken to her bed and remained there.

  While she’d been devastated by the news, her family had been euphoric, thrilled for what his election to office would mean to their people and to the entire town of Nicodemus. She, too, understood the honor and the possible benefits—but not now, and not Moses.

  Let someone else go.

  Cold fear gripped her heart with each thought of moving to Topeka and being separated from her family. How could she possibly give birth to her first child surrounded by total strangers? Please don’t let Moses win the election. A tear slipped down her cheek as she whispered her prayer into the layers of blankets that covered her head. She tried to lift the sheet from her face but couldn’t find the strength for even that simple task.

  Moses had promised a visit from the doctor if she wasn’t up and about by the time he returned at noon. Yet with each attempt to push away the covers, her hands froze in place and a tiny voice said: Just a little while longer. And each time, she complied. As the morning sun spilled into the room and threatened to erase her cocoon of darkness, Truth nosed deeper into the covers and spread her fingers across her stomach. Their baby rested somewhere deep beneath her outstretched hand. Already, she wanted to offer protection—keep him safe at home surrounded by family who would love and safeguard him. This is a time to be filled with joy—not fear and foreboding. She repeated those words over and over until she could finally peek out from beneath the covers.

  Blinking against the sunlight, Truth sat up slowly and then wiggled her feet into the slippers beside the bed. Bracing her knuckles against the mattress, she pushed herself upright. There! She’d managed to uncover her head and stand up. Surely, the rest should prove easier. At least she hoped so.

  Very slowly, she made her way down the hall. Light filtered through the nursery window and scribbled spiny designs across the floor. With each gust of wind through the branches, the jagged pattern twisted and curled as it beckoned Truth forward. Her slippers whispered across the wood as she walked into the tiny room she’d sketched into their house drawings less than two years ago. Even though she and Moses had accepted their childless state, they’d agreed a nursery shouldn’t be dismissed. Just in case.

  However, she hadn’t objected when Moses had made the tiny room into a small library and sitting room shortly after they’d moved into the house. He would often get up during the night and sit in the room, reflecting upon ideas for the next edition of the newspaper. Nevertheless, the day after her doctor’s visit, she’d packed many of his books into wooden crates. The room would need different wallpaper— something in pale yellow and white would be nice. If Moses won the election, new wallpaper wouldn’t matter. They’d be living in Topeka, and her baby wouldn’t sleep in this little nursery adjacent to their bedroom. Once again, she sent a prayer winging toward heaven. Please don’t let him win the election.

  Now that she was up, she should finish packing the books. The bookshelves must be emptied regardless of whether Moses won or lost the election. She had removed only a few volumes when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Truth peeked out the nursery window, but the porch roof blocked her view. She could see nothing below. If she checked the window in her bedroom she might be able to glimpse a carriage on the street.

  She stopped short as she neared her dresser. The mirror image staring back at her was proof enough she couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t— answer the door. Dark circles underscored each of her dark brown eyes, and her hair stood on end. She wasn’t even dressed. However, the familiar click and groan of the front door proved a remarkable incentive. With lightning speed, she ran to her room, grabbed her pale blue chambray wrapper from the foot of the bed, and shoved her arms into the sleeves.

  She was tying the belt when her older sister called out. “Truth? Are you home? It’s me—Jarena.”

  For a moment she considered tiptoeing down the hallway to hide in the linen closet. Silly thought. There was no need for such antics. Jarena wouldn’t rebuke her for remaining abed so late in the day—or for her unkempt appearance.

  Truth had nearly calmed her frayed nerves when the sound of murmuring voices drifted up the stairs. Someone was with Jarena! Bad enough Jarena should find her in this disheveled state so late in the morning, but she couldn’t bear for one of the neighbors to see her. Perhaps it was merely her other sister, Grace, with Jarena.

  I’d best find out who’s with her. “I’m not dressed, Jarena. Are you alone?”

  “You ain’ dressed? What’s got into you, gal? We’s comin’ upstairs right now.”

  Miss Hattie! Truth knew the older woman’s announcement wasn’t open for discussion. She needed to waylay them for at least a few minutes. “Is that you, Miss Hattie?”

  “You knows it’s me, Truth.”

  The tip of Miss Hattie’s parasol clicked a rhythmic pace as she ascended the steps. Truth made a hurried return to the mirror and grimaced at the sight. Not much she could do in thirty seconds except brace herself for Miss Hattie’s appearance.

  Miss Hattie had been a friend of the Harban family long before they departed Kentucky, and the old woman brooked no nonsense— from anyone. She had crowned herself matriarch of Nicodemus and all its inhabitants soon after the first group of settlers had arrived in Kansas. Since those early days, Miss Hattie had ruled with an iron hand. No doubt she had come to Truth’s house today to offer an opinion and issue advice.

  The old woman’s form soon filled the doorway. She pointed her ancient umbrella at Truth. “Land alive, jest look at you! How long since you been outta that bed?”

  Truth bowed her head. “Only a couple of days. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

  Miss Hattie shuffled across the room and plopped down on the edge of the bed. “Now that there goes without sayin’.” She turned her attention to Truth’s sister, standing in the doorway. “You comin’ in here, Jarena?”

  Jarena came inside the bedroom, cradling little Jennie in her arms.

  “Sorry to get you out of bed, Truth. We stopped by the newspaper office before coming to the house. Miss Hattie wanted to offer her congratulations, and Moses said he was sure you’d be pleased to see us. He said to let myself in if you didn’t answer.”

  Truth raked her fingers through her hair. “I am pleased to see you. I was in the midst of packing some books when you arrived.”

  Miss Hattie frowned and wagged her head back and forth. “That there how you dress to do your housework nowadays? In your nightclothes?”

  Truth ignored the question and opened the doors of her wardrobe.

>   “If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll join you downstairs. Perhaps you and Miss Hattie could make some coffee.” Truth cast a pleading look at her sister.

  Miss Hattie thumped the tip of her umbrella on the wood floor. “You ain’ even made no coffee yet? You done got you a severe case of the lazies since you moved to town.” The elderly woman used one of the bedposts to steady herself as she stood up. “See that you’s down them stairs in ten minutes. I ain’ gonna spend all my visitin’ time sittin’ and waitin’ fer you to decide to get yerself dressed.” She shook her head as she lumbered toward the door. “Um, um, what would your pappy say ’bout such goings-on.”

  Once again, Truth knew the old woman didn’t expect a response. She’d learned long ago that it was usually best to remain silent where Miss Hattie was concerned. The woman had an opinion about everything from raising children to planting corn, and no one was ever allowed to disagree, especially if you were younger than she was—and there was nobody in Nicodemus any older than Miss Hattie!

  Truth pulled a dress from the wardrobe and tossed it across the bed. Though she longed for a confidante—someone who might listen and understand, someone who could explain away her fearsome thoughts and dreams—Truth knew that person would not be Miss Hattie.

  Moses had likely decided the two women would prove more effective in getting her up and moving than his threat to bring the doctor home with him. Nevertheless, Truth would have preferred the doctor’s ministrations to Miss Hattie’s critical looks and sharp tongue. Unfortunately, she’d had no say in the matter.

  Moving quickly, Truth washed her face, donned the dress, and patted her unruly hair into place. Her appearance remained far from respectable, but there was little more she could do in the brief time allotted by Miss Hattie. The rasping noise of the coffee grinder muffled her visitors’ chatter, but their animated banter suggested they were in the midst of a weighty discussion. Probably about me. The room fell silent when she walked into the kitchen. Proof enough that she’d been their topic of their conversation. Not that she was surprised— or even cared all that much. She’d be the first to admit her behavior had been far from normal for the past several days.

  “Don’t let me interrupt your conversation, ladies.”

  “Oh, I’s not gonna quit talkin’. I done come here for a visit. Now set yourself down.” Miss Hattie pointed at one of the chairs.

  Truth did as she was told but truly wished Miss Hattie would quit issuing orders. After all, this wasn’t the woman’s home. “What brings the two of you visiting today?”

  Miss Hattie shifted little Jennie in her arms. “When Jarena tol’ me the doctor give you good news, I was hankering to offer my best wishes. I know you and Moses is pleased. To tell you the truth, I was beginning to wonder if the two of you was ever gonna have a young’un. You’s as slow ’bout starting a family as you was ’bout gettin’ married.”

  Truth bristled at the remark. As usual, Miss Hattie had over-stepped her bounds. “I’m delighted we were able to set your mind at ease, Miss Hattie.”

  Before the old woman could rebuke her for the mocking response, Truth jumped up, removed coffee cups from the cupboard, then set out the sugar and cream. Perhaps Jarena would take pity on her and urge Miss Hattie toward home once they had finished their coffee.

  Using an old apron to protect her hand, Truth lifted the coffeepot from the stove.

  “I’m not certain the coffee has boiled long enough,” Jarena said.

  Ignoring her sister’s warning, Truth filled the cups. “I like my coffee weak. It upsets my stomach when it’s too strong.” She placed a cup in front of Miss Hattie and another one before her sister.

  Miss Hattie stared into the cup. “This here looks more like dishwater than coffee, but I won’t complain since I’m your guest.”

  Truth stifled a laugh. Guest or not, the statement was a complaint, and all of them knew it. Rather than exchange barbs with Miss Hattie, Truth engaged Jarena in conversation. “Are you planning on visiting the dry goods store and returning home in time to prepare the noonday meal?”

  Her sister shook her head. “Thomas is working in the fields with Pappy and Silas today. I packed dinner pails for all three of them so I wouldn’t have to worry about hurrying back to the farm.”

  Truth’s shoulders sagged. Her visitors might be here for the duration of the morning! She knew Miss Hattie didn’t have to hurry home. The older woman lived with her granddaughter’s family, and Nellie would be at home preparing the noonday meal. Truth secretly wished Nellie had come along instead of Miss Hattie. She wanted to ask Nellie about young Nathan’s birth. Although the boy was nearly five now, the memory of his birth still haunted Truth. Nellie’s son had arrived that first winter in Nicodemus, and both Nellie and the baby had nearly died in the process. Pappy had sent Jarena to lend aid to Nellie, but he’d instructed his two younger daughters to return to their bed. Truth had tried to sleep, but the screams had made it impossible.

  When she couldn’t bear to listen any longer, Truth had buried her head under a cornhusk pillow. Each time Nellie had screamed, Truth had rustled the cornhusks, hoping to drown out the shrill cries. Her attempts hadn’t worked, for in the quiet of a winter night, nothing covered the sound of Nellie’s screams.

  Miss Hattie clanked her cup back onto the saucer and startled Truth from her thoughts. “Let’s get to the business at hand.”

  Truth’s stomach lurched. Business at hand? “Whatever are you talking about, Miss Hattie?”

  “I’s talkin’ ’bout your attitude, young lady. I done heard how you been actin’ since Moses got back from the capital city.” She leaned forward, shifting Jennie in her arms, and pointed a crooked finger at Truth. “You ain’ conducting yerself like a godly woman, Truth. You should be pleased as punch that them folks in the Republican Party wanted a colored man on the ballot. Why, that there is some fine news fer our people. What’s wrong with you, gal? Instead of encouraging Moses, you take to yer bed to show him you’s unhappy.”

  Truth bit her lip to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow.

  Hadn’t she already said all of those things to herself? She didn’t need Miss Hattie shaking a finger under her nose to remind her how she should act. She took a sip of coffee and calmed herself. Miss Hattie wouldn’t understand her fears—she’d tell her to trust the Lord. Oh, she wanted to cast her cares before the Lord and forget they existed. But so far, her attempts had proved futile.

  “I’ve tried to overcome my reluctant feelings about his candidacy.” Those few words were as much as she could manage for the moment.

  Jennie’s eyes fluttered open. She whimpered for her mother and Miss Hattie handed the child over to Jarena’s care. “I s’pose most of the time tryin’ would be enough. But this here is different—it’s important that one of us is runnin’ fer office. ’Sides, I don’t think none of us believe folks is gonna elect a colored man to such a high office as state auditor.”

  “You don’t know that for certain. In fact, he won the nomination by a landslide with only six coloreds voting at the convention. There must be some white folks willing to elect a colored man. And we all know Moses is so light-skinned he can pass for white.” Truth’s hands trembled as she leaned back to rest her shoulders against the cool oak of the kitchen chair. The fact that she’d been able to counter Miss Hattie’s statement only served to bolster her own fears.

  Miss Hattie rubbed her hands together as though the words had been a balm to her weary soul. “Maybe we will get us a colored man elected. Praise the Lord!”

  Struggling to maintain her composure, Truth walked to the stove to retrieve the coffeepot. “If that happens, I’ll be forced to leave Nicodemus and move to Topeka, Miss Hattie.”

  “Is that what this here takin’ to your bed is all about? Land alive, chil’, if that’s the worst thing that happens, you should be running up and down the streets shoutin’ hallelujah.”

  Jarena grinned as Miss Hattie waved her arms overhead.r />
  Truth swallowed back her tears. “This isn’t funny, Jarena. If you had to pack up and leave all of us behind, you wouldn’t take the matter so lightly. How would you have felt if none of your family had been around to lend support when Thomas was missing in Indian Territory? Or if no one you love had been there when Jennie was born?”

  With a look of concern, Jarena patted Truth’s hand. “But the one who loves you the very most will be there. You know Moses wouldn’t miss the birth of his firstborn, and no matter where you go, you’ll have Jesus with you.”

  Her sister’s words were true enough, but they weren’t the sympathy Truth longed to hear. “I know Moses loves me, Jarena. But the last thing I want to do when I’m expecting my first baby is to leave my home.”

  “You’s jest scared, but having a baby ain’ nothing to be afeard of.

  You’s gonna have the good Lord to look after ya.” Miss Hattie gazed heavenward and then nodded. “Yes indeed. I do believe the Lord is givin’ you a blessed opportunity to rely on Him. You know the Bible says our God’s jealous. He wants us to look to Him first when we’s havin’ difficult times ’stead of lookin’ to each other for help. Maybe the Lord’s wantin’ you to trust Him to carry you through. Get out your Bible and read ’bout Sarai and Abram—you remember that story?” The old woman didn’t wait for a reply. “God tol’ Abram to go and Sarai followed with him. You think she was complainin’ and layin’ in the bed like you?”

  Truth shuddered. “As I recall, Abram let his wife end up with the

  Pharaoh down in Egypt for quite a while. You think that’s supposed to encourage me?”

  Miss Hattie sighed as she lifted her ample body from the chair.

  “God delivered both Abram and Sarai, and He blessed them in a mighty way. You think ’bout trustin’ God and see if that story don’t apply to you.” She patted Truth’s shoulder and picked up her parasol.

  “Now, I think it’s time I get myself over to the store and give Miz Wilson my order.”