The Women of Jacob’s Mountain Boxed Set

by Hining, Deborah;

  “John?”

  “Uh-huh. Thank goodness Howard Knight was there. He had enough sense to stop and shoot the thing, or John would have gotten himself killed. Then, too, it was handy to have the carcass. We’ve sent the head off to see if it was rabid. You’d better hope those thirty-nine stitches is all it’s going to amount to.”

  Geneva barely heard her. “Howard. Where is he?”

  Rachel’s face registered surprise. “Right outside, with John and the others, waiting for you to come around.”

  Geneva moved again. The fog was lifting, and the pain was more real. “I want to see him.” She felt desperate.

  Rachel paused, then said slowly, “All right. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that. Did… did you two make up or something?”

  “No. I want to tell him that I love him.” She began to feel the tears well up in her heart and in her eyes. All she could think about was how much she needed to see her lover.

  Rachel drew in a sharp breath. “Honey, are you fully awake? I mean, if you really want to see him, I’ll go get him. I guess… I mean, I thought you’d want to see John first, at least to thank him.”

  “Oh, Rachel, I love him! Please go get him! Even if he doesn’t want to come! Please, beg him if you have to.” She sobbed aloud.

  Rachel’s beautiful face grew very concerned. “Geneva, honey. Sure. If you want me to, just talk to me for a minute. I didn’t know you still felt this way. Are you sure you want to see him? I mean, I know he’ll be happy, he told me how much he is in love with you, about how he and the others searched for you all night, and how worried he had been when he found you’d been sick, but Geneva, why have you changed your mind?”

  It was too difficult to explain. “Oh, Rachel, he took care of me. And he was so beautiful up on the cliff, and he danced for me, and gave me gold, and he made the stars fall—Singing Eye’s tears!” She was crying in earnest now. “But now he hates me because I threw away the baby, and I was ashamed of him! You just don’t understand!”

  Rachel laid her hand on Geneva’s forehead. “Okay, sweetie, try to think straight. You’ve been dreaming. Let’s start over. Who do you want to see?”

  “Howard—Chap.”

  “Who?”

  “Howard.” She was feeling very focused now. She would have gotten out of bed and found him herself, but it hurt too much to move. “Bring him here,” she said weakly. I love him.”

  “Are you sure? You want me to go get Howard Graves so you can tell him you love him after all? What about John? Don’t you want to maybe see him? Or think about it before you—”

  “Not Howard Graves! Ta li! Howard Knight!” Geneva’s horrified mind raced ahead of her speech. Rachel did not know? How could she not know? She felt very confused again.

  Rachel seemed to freeze for a moment, then she sat down suddenly and took Geneva’s hand. “Honey, you must have fever. I’m going to run get the doctor. He should have been here by now, anyway. Let’s just put off seeing anyone for now, okay? You’re going to be okay. You just need to sleep a little more.”

  The tears welled up again. She felt so helpless, so powerless to make Rachel understand her need. Her tongue felt thick and useless. Miserable, she turned her face to the wall and wept.

  She was drifting through sunshine and fog, and stars swirled around her like fireflies, bright yellow and flickering. She felt the sensation of riding again, galloping in slow motion along the forest floor with enormous trees towering overhead. And then the beast lunged at her with its dripping fangs until she screamed and sat up.

  Pain shot through her leg. She was in a hospital room, white and sterile. Terrified, she grabbed at the rail of her bed and looked around wildly. Her mother was there. And her father. And she suddenly remembered why she was there and what had happened. She gasped at the reflections in her mind.

  People came and went. Many of them poked at her and murmured over her. Sometimes she felt her mother’s cool hand and heard her father’s voice, low and comforting. She slept in a gray miasma.

  It seemed like a long time before she found herself alone with Rachel again. Blue twilight had crept into the room so that Geneva felt nearly shrouded in darkness. She wanted to speak, but she did not know what to say. Rachel laid her hand on her sister’s forehead.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Yes. I’m awake now.”

  “Good. You look better.”

  “Where’s Mama and Daddy?”

  Just stretching their legs. They’ve both been here ever since they brought you in. I kicked them out just before you woke up. You gave us a real scare, honeybunch.”

  Geneva sighed and fought back more tears. “I know, I’m sorry. I thought I was going for help.”

  “Yeah, I know. But you should have known better.”

  “Jimmy Lee broke his leg.”

  “Yes, and you could have been killed. This is the third time, in just about as many weeks that you have done something to hurt yourself. If you don’t watch it, you’re going to be so scarred up, you’ll have to join the circus. ‘The Incredible Scarred Woman! See the wounds on her elbow! Her forehead! All up the back of her leg!’ It’s a good thing Joe’s here. He’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s a great plastic surgeon.”

  “All right, all right. You’re making me feel really good.”

  “So, you feel good enough to see anybody? There’s still a pack of people outside in the waiting room, Sally Beth, Lilly, John… and Howard… Graves. All of them have been here all day, and they’re all exhausted, but they won’t leave until they’ve seen you.”

  Geneva lay quietly and watched Rachel. Her big sister returned her gaze anxiously. “What about Howard Knight?”

  Rachel licked her lips. “He’s upstairs with Jimmy Lee, has been most of the day, except to stop in now and then to ask about you.”

  “Oh. How’s Jimmy Lee?”

  “Okay. It was a bad break, and he’s in traction, but he’ll mend.” She paused expectantly.

  “I want to see him—Howard.”

  Rachel nodded gravely. “Yes, you told me earlier. I thought you were dreaming—you were talking out of your head. You… you told me you were in love with him.”

  “I am, Rachel. And I’m not out of my head.” Geneva’s eyes blazed with conviction. How hungry she was to see him! “He took care of me while I was sick, and somehow I—we fell in love. There’s so much more to him than you know.”

  “Yes, hush.” Rachel’s voice grew gentle, and she continued slowly, carefully, “Geneva, I talked to Howard. I asked him why you might be talking like this, why you might thi—say you were in love with him. He said you’d been out of your head with fever for a few days and had gotten him mixed up with someone else, and that you had raved about all kinds of strange things. Honey, you must have been really sick.”

  Geneva took this betrayal with equanimity. “Yes, I know he probably said that. He’s lying,” she said levelly, looking at Rachel directly in the eyes. “Rachel. This was real. I did not dream this. Just go get him. And tell the others to go home. I don’t want to see anybody else until tomorrow.”

  Rachel broke eye contact first, and her sigh came after a long moment. “Okay, honey, I’ll go get him. You can talk it out with him.” She glanced at Geneva’s resolute eyes again, then sadly left the room.

  She was gone a long time. Geneva lay quietly, wondering what she would say to him when she saw him, how long it would take to convince him that what they had was worth fighting for. She would have to convince him that she would not hurt him ever again. That might take some doing, but she would just start by telling him over and over again how much she needed him and loved him and wanted him. She was sure he would be hers. She almost smiled while she waited.

  Much later, Rachel returned. Apologetically, she crossed to Geneva’s bed and stroked her arm. “He went home, honey. Jimmy Lee is stable, and there are others there with him, so he left. They said he might be back tomorrow.”

  “He didn’t
stop by to ask about me?”

  “I don’t know. He’s been gone awhile. The others left when I told them to, before I went upstairs looking for him. Nobody said anything, though.” She looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Geneva. Do you want me to call him at home?”

  Geneva felt her stomach sinking. “No. I’ll wait. Thanks, Rachel.” She attempted a smile.

  “I have to go now. Heavy tits,” she smiled. “Mama will stay the night. Howard—Graves—is staying at the house for now. The poor man is absolutely exhausted. I have a feeling everyone will be back tomorrow, though, so get some sleep.” She gave Geneva a worried smile. “We’ll begin sorting all this out tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay, Sis. Get home to your babies.”

  “Yes. Goodnight.”

  The night passed fitfully. It felt as if the glare in the hospital halls aimed to penetrate the walls of Geneva’s room and mock her lack of peace. Gaynell lay quietly in the cot next to Geneva and came to fuss over her so often that at last Geneva determined to lie absolutely still so that her mother would have no reason to check on her again. Towards morning she fell into a kind of half sleep, where her thoughts intermingled with her dreams so that they took on an unreal shape, and she began to mistrust her memory.

  Had he said he loved her? Might it not have been real, what she thought she saw and felt? She remembered the joy in his face, and the anguish. She felt the dewy night caress her skin as he lifted her up into the offering of stars. Oh, yes, it was real. And the pain she had caused him was real, too, so real that he wanted her out of his life.

  Then she would sleep and see the beast rushing at her, and the terror once again quickened her blood. Sometimes the boar would come right to her so that she would wake with a start, but sometimes it would disappear before it reached her, or she would find herself warm and floating in someone’s arms. Over and over again in her sleep she would think of love and danger and sorrow and pain. But sometimes, when the cycles seemed to be spinning out of control, the all-encompassing warmth would come to her, and she would float wordlessly in a kind of unknown bliss.

  The nurses interrupted her sleep endlessly. Just when she would find herself at last facing the welcoming unconsciousness, in would come the bustling white figure to check her pulse and take her temperature. She grew more and more weary until at last she resolved to close her eyes and simply stop her brain.

  That’s when Joe, the plastic surgeon who had stitched Geneva up twice already this summer, came in. It was an indignity to have him strip off the bandages on her leg and leer at it, but when she grudgingly rolled over and let him look at her wound, she vainly tried to gain a peek at her assaulted leg.

  She closed her eyes and hoped that he had done as good a job with her leg as he had with her previous wounds. The scar in her hairline was becoming invisible, and the one on her elbow was insignificant. This, however, was a different matter.

  “Joe, what does it look like?”

  “Yummy. That boar knew you were a tasty treat.”

  “I’m serious. Let me see.”

  “Sure, doll.” He disappeared and a moment later, returned carrying a large mirror, positioning it so Geneva could see her wound. The sight caused her to gasp. An angry, wide, red line laced up with stitching ran down a ten inch length of her thigh, beginning just under her buttock. The wound was still hot and oozing, and Geneva wondered if she could ever wear a bathing suit again. Putting her face in the pillow, she wept softly.

  “Come on, darlin’, I think that’s going to be about one of the sexiest scars I have ever seen.”

  “Shut up, Joe.” said Geneva.

  “You don’t like it? Hey, we’ll have you posing for Playboy by the end of the month.”

  “You ever been sued for sexual harassment?”

  “She means it,” warned Gaynell.

  “Okay. Sorry. Just trying to make you feel better. Really, though, it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it might. If we can just keep infection at bay, we’ll be home free. The rabies test should be back this afternoon, and we just have to hope we got all the dirt out.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered grudgingly.

  “Sure. And really, Geneva. It won’t look bad when it’s all over. You’ve got great skin, and I’ll lay odds you’ll love this scar when I get through with it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. What kind of odds?”

  “If you don’t think I’ve worked miracles, I’ll take you to Grenada with me when I go down there to teach next winter.”

  “Forget it. You’re married.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Sight of a pretty leg like that makes me think I’m available.”

  “Mom, what’s my lawyer’s number?”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you that all I find interesting here is this neat little row of stitches?”

  “Joe. When can I wear a bathing suit without being stared at?”

  He considered this question thoughtfully. “Hmm,” he mused. “Twenty years?” He glanced at Gaynell. “How old are you, Gaynell?”

  “Seventy-two.”

  “Oh, then probably fifty years or so. Gotta get a little cellulite on you. Some spider veining.” He leered at Gaynell’s legs. “People quit staring at you in a bathing suit yet, Gaynell?”

  Gaynell smiled. “Doc, you got a way with you. Your wife know you talk like this?”

  “Why do you think she married me? Either that or my great prowess in certain parts of the house.”

  “Joe,” warned Geneva.

  “Yep, I’m a master in the kitchen, chopping is my specialty. And you should see me vacuum. Comes from all that practicing with the liposuction.”

  Geneva thought about giving him a break, but squelched the impulse. “You know what I mean. Will this heal up without being too ugly?”

  “Ugly? How can you ask that? You don’t know who you’re talking to! I do things with a needle and thread that other plastic surgeons only dream about. This scar will be so beautiful that you’ll be in here next year, asking me to put one on the other leg just like it.”

  Geneva sighed. “When can I go home?”

  “Why do you want to go home? We got every comfort here. Great, greasy, over-salted food, overbearing, pandering physicians, big, ugly nurses.”

  “I’m telling.”

  “Three days.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Two days.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Day and a half, if there’s no rabies or infection, and if you promise to let Wayne keep tabs on you.”

  “Done.”

  “That will be a thousand dollars.”

  “Go away.”

  “Can I kiss the back of your knee?”

  “No.”

  “What if I pay you a thousand dollars?”

  She considered this, then figured he was kidding. She put her face back on the pillow and waved him away, but before he left, she stopped him again.

  “Can I take a shower?”

  “Sure.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I have seen better hairdos on warthogs.”

  She snorted. “No need to get ugly just because I wouldn’t let you kiss the back of my knee.”

  He smiled, then his expression softened. “Geneva, I’m glad you pulled through this. You’re quite a girl.” The laughter came back in his eyes. “Now take a shower and wash your hair so I can come back and beg you to nibble your ear.”

  Geneva suddenly felt confidence and joy shoot through her. She was alive! She had just come through a harrowing ordeal, and only a day later, she was longing for a shower and being flirted with by a handsome, if overbearing, physician. There was hope, after all.

  “Come on, Mama. Help me up,” she said, struggling to rise. “I want to be beautiful again.”

  The shower felt glorious. Her mother helped her shampoo her hair, then Geneva gingerly perched on a chair while Gaynell towel dried her hair and combed it until it lay straight and smooth against her cheeks a
nd shoulders.

  “Remember when you were a little girl,” Gaynell said, pulling the comb gently through Geneva’s golden tresses, “and you told me you were going to run away from home and join a band of Gypsies and spend the rest of your life dancing around their campfire?”

  “I remember,” smiled Geneva. “I was obsessed with Gypsies for awhile. Wonder where I ever heard about them?”

  “I reckon you read about ‘em somewhere. But I was just thinking—that’s exactly what you’ve done. You really have run away from home, and you’re always dancing around the fire. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wake up, and I see this picture of you in my head, wildly spinning around a big fire, your hair all golden and streaming in the light, and you’re laughing your head off, and you never see how close you are to getting burned. You just laugh and spin and fling your hair toward the fire.” She paused, her face wistful. “All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and I’ve tried to let you find your own happiness without interfering,” she sighed. “But, Lord, honey, you are such a trial sometimes. How did I have a daughter with such a wild streak in her? You court danger at every turn.” Her fingers faltered, and when Geneva looked at her, her eyes were shimmering with tears.

  “Oh, Mama, I’m sorry. I know I have put you through an awful time. And sometimes I wish I were more like you, like Rachel.” She thought about what Howard Knight had said to her on the mountain about her greedy soul, and she grieved that she had caused her loved ones so much pain. Sighing, she took her mother’s hand. “Sometimes I wonder myself why I do the things I do. Things seem so right while I’m doing them. I mean, it made perfect sense to go looking for help yesterday. And now I see how stupid it was.”

  Gaynell laughed and dried her face with the back of her hand, then she hugged Geneva. “Oh, baby, I’m just happy to see you alive and safe. Don’t pay any attention to me. I guess I wouldn’t want you any other way, but I must say, I’m gettin’ awful old to watch you get yourself in so much trouble. I guess I’m afraid I’ll die before you learn to take care of yourself, and where will you be when I’m not there to drag you out of the quicksand?” She laughed again, “But then to hear Rachel tell it, she’s been there to rescue you a few times when I wasn’t!”