“Oh. I should have already thought of that.” She sprang from her chair and yanked the curtains shut.
The thinness of the curtains still allowed too much sun, but I mumbled my thanks. Tears stung my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. I wasn’t going to let this woman see me cry. Why was she being so solicitous? I made another effort to sit, using my elbows to prop up. Mr. Aaron stood in the doorway.
When his eyes met mine, he came in the room. “Feeling better?”
I nodded my head. “A little.” My eyes traveled from Sylvia to Mr. Aaron. Of course. Sylvia was putting on a show for him. Not sure why she’d bother for someone so old.
I looked up at him. “Will you help me sit, please?”
A smile of relief spread across his face. “Sure thing.”
Sylvia helped, too, fluffing the pillows at my back.
“Listen, I’m fine. Mr. Paul didn’t have to go for the doctor.”
Sylvia raised an eyebrow and shifted her glance to Mr. Aaron and then back to me. “Fine? You passed out, Sarah Jane.”
“I’m just weak because I didn’t eat much breakfast.”
“Why not?” Sylvia asked.
I licked my dried, cracked lips. I must look a mess and hated for anyone, especially for her, to see me like this. I sighed, not wanting to lie. Perhaps I could just bend the truth. “I was nervous about my new job.” There. Maybe that would satisfy them.
Mr. Aaron laughed. “No need for that. You did great with that cow.”
Sylvia’s blinked her long lashes at Mr. Aaron. “What did she do?”
His ears reddened, so I quickly spoke up. “I helped the cow calf.”
“Calf?”
“Give birth.” I hoped my short answers would curb her curiosity.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
I ignored her question. “Sylvia, my throat is dry. Will you bring me a glass of water?”
“Anything for you, Sarah Jane.” She flashed that brilliant smile I so despised and left the room.
Mr. Aaron took the vacated seat and laid his hand on mine. “Think we should tell her how you did it?” His lips twitched.
“She’d probably faint.”
He threw back his head and laughed. Sylvia came back in with the water, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
“Did I miss something?”
Mr. Aaron’s dimples deepened, and he winked at me. “We were just discussing the cow.”
Sylvia started to hold the water to my lips, but I sat up straighter and took the glass from her. “I can manage.”
“You sure?” She hovered over me but batted her lashes at Mr. Aaron.
I pressed my lips together to keep from snapping at her. “I’m sure.” I ignored her, speaking to Mr. Aaron. “Where’s Dr. Driscoll?”
“He had to get on with his rounds.”
“Oh...” I bit my bottom lip. What would he think? He’d probably fire me the next time he saw me.
Mr. Aaron searched my eyes. “Don’t worry. He thinks you did great.”
“Did he say that?”
“Well, no. But anyone could see you’re good with animals.”
Sylvia’s eyes again brimmed with curiosity. “What did you do that was so great?”
“Nothing. I just had to help pull the calf out.”
“Pull the calf out?” Her face filled with horror. “You pulled the calf out of its mother?”
“Yes. Dr. Driscoll helped, of course.”
“Oh? Exactly how do you...”
“Sylvia, I don’t want to talk about it now.” I looked to Mr. Aaron for help.
He climbed to his feet. “We need to let Jay rest.”
Sylvia followed him from the room, casting a glance back over her shoulder.
I sighed after they had closed the door. This would probably be the end of my job. And I needed the paycheck. I had to pay Uncle Colt for the farm, no matter what. It wasn’t Michael’s responsibility. The farm belonged in my family, and whatever I had to do, I’d do it — anything to get it back.
I closed my eyes and rolled my head back and forth. Now I was sounding like Momma. She had worked Zeke and me half to death, trying to keep the farm. Wasn’t I doing the same thing now?
I shook my head. I wasn’t acting like Momma. I was going to do it myself — I didn’t expect help from anyone. I had gone to school, worked hard, to be here, doing this. Dr. Driscoll was not going to take that away from me, if I could help it. Of course, I hadn’t planned on being pregnant when I had decided to move back. I was going to have to toughen up, if I expected to keep working. I’d gotten soft, living with Aunt Liza and Uncle Howard.
I heard the front door open and voices traveled through the closed bedroom door.
“She’s in here, Dr. Burch.”
Dr. Burch. The same doctor who had treated Poppa. He came into the room, Sylvia, Mr. Aaron, and Mr. Paul on his heels. He gave them one look, and they all backed out without a word. He closed the door firmly behind them, set his bag on the dresser, and came to stand by the bed. He didn’t speak but placed his fingers on my wrist and pulled out a pocket watch. After a few seconds, he nodded once.
“Not too bad,” he mumbled, speaking more to himself than to me. He laid the back of his hand across my forehead before he took a stethoscope from his coat pocket to listen to my heart.
He smiled and patted my hand. “Nice and steady,” he said. “Now, young lady, what seems to be the problem?”
I bit my bottom lip and looked down at my hands.
“Your father-in-law tells me you’re experiencing nausea, but it doesn’t appear you have a fever.”
I didn’t answer but looked into his eyes, searching for sympathy.
“Ah,” he said, as if I had answered. “Just as I thought.”
“I don’t want anyone to know,” I whispered.
He laughed but leaned closer to me to whisper back. “You’re not doing a very good job of hiding it.”
Chapter 17—Dr. Burch
I blinked at the doctor. “Did Mr. Paul...”
Dr. Burch shook his head. “No, he didn’t say anything.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m working for Dr. Driscoll. If he finds out, he’ll let me go.”
He surveyed me solemnly for a moment. “Reckon it won’t hurt you to work, as long as you don’t overdo it. It will help keep your mind off your troubles, too.”
“My troubles?”
He smiled at me. “I know you’re a new bride, Michael Hutchinson is your husband, and he’s in the Marines.” He chuckled. “In this small community, everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
“Oh... I just wondered if Mr. Hutchinson had told you.”
“No, I already knew. Know a few other things, too.”
He held my eyes for a moment, and I wondered what else he had heard.
Then he became business-like again. “There are a few things you can do for the nausea. If you can get some lemon juice and add a bit to a cup of water, it’ll help you keep the water down. Another thing, buy some peppermint candies and suck on them throughout the day. And a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar and a tablespoon of honey in a glass of water will help strengthen you. And, of course, ginger helps with nausea. Just add it to the water. Do you need me to write these down for you?”
“No, sir. I can remember.”
“I’ve got some peppermints with me, as a matter of fact.” He reached into his pocket and came out with a handful.
I took only one, but he shook his head at me. “Take them all. I have plenty at home.”
I popped the candy in my mouth and put the extras in the large zippered pocket on the bib of the overalls. “Thanks, Dr. Burch.”
He pushed his glasses farther up his nose. “You do know that Dr. Driscoll will find out eventually?”
I smiled at him. “Yes, I know that. I’m just hoping by then that he’ll be used to me and want to keep me around.”
“Good luck, young lady. And you come in and see me every m
onth or so. Right now, except for the morning sickness, you seem healthy. But I don’t want you to overdo it.”
“I’ll be careful and I’ll be sure to come in.”
“And if anything out of the ordinary occurs, like...”
“Yes, I know. I’ll be sure to see you if I notice anything amiss.” I indicated the closed door with a tilt of my head. “What are you going to tell them?”
He patted my hand. “I’ll think of something.”
“Thank you, Dr. Burch.” He was being so kind to me that I wanted to do something more, perhaps give him a hug, but I held back.
“It would do you a world of good to take a nap. It’s very important for you to get plenty of sleep. And avoid stress.”
“I’ll get my father-in-law to take me home, and I promise to rest.”
“Do you have anyone to stay with you until you feel better?”
“I’m sure my cousin will stay.” I was sure Laurie would be glad of any excuse to get away from Sylvia.
“Let’s get you up then. I’ll get someone to help.”
I swung my legs off the bed when he went out. I heard him muttering and supposed he was giving an explanation as to why I had fainted. And then he came back with Sylvia.
“I’m going to take you home,” she said brightly.
“Where’s Mr. Paul?” I asked.
Dr. Burch pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, took off his spectacles, and cleaned them. “He’s outside — had some chores to tend to. Come on and let’s get you up.” He took one of my arms, and Sylvia took the other, and they helped me to my feet.
I stood for a moment, getting my balance.
Dr. Burch squeezed my shoulder. “You’re doing fine. Just take your time.”
I gently shook their hands off, embarrassed for being so weak. “Let me try by myself?”
“Sure,” Dr. Burch said. “We’ll just stick close by in case you need us.”
I caught sight of myself in the mirror on the dresser. My hair was a tangled mess, my face pale, my eyes darkly circled, my overalls stained. Hurrying away from the image, I stumbled, right at the threshold. Dr. Burch steadied me with a hand on my elbow. I braced myself on the doorframe before continuing into the living room.
“Just take it slow,” Dr. Burch said, his voice soothing.
Sylvia stayed a step or two behind and didn’t say a word as we crossed the room and went outside. The screen door slammed behind us, and I cringed at the sound. Instead of heading to Sylvia’s car, I walked toward the barn, hoping I could persuade Mr. Paul or Mr. Aaron to take me home. Neither was in the barn.
Sylvia came up beside me. “They went to check the fence around the... hmm... I think they said the back forty. A neighbor came by to tell them one of their cows was out.”
“Oh.” There was no escaping it. Sylvia would have to take me home.
Dr. Burch was waving me over to the car. He had been so kind. Had he been this kind when Poppa died? I barely remembered how he had acted, except he had not hurried when I had gone to get him, so anxious to get back to Poppa. There was slowness, what I now recognized as calmness, about him. He held the car door open, and I climbed in. I thanked him and made arrangements to pay the bill, overriding the offer he told me Mr. Paul had made.
Sylvia got in and cranked the car. Dr. Burch closed my door and stepped back. I smiled and gave a wave as the car pulled away. I leaned my head back on the seat and closed my eyes, hoping Sylvia would take the hint and not talk.
No such luck.
Chapter 18—The Request
“Sarah Jane, I’m so sorry if I upset you and caused...”
My eyes flew open. “You did not upset me.” My conscience pricked me at the lie, but I ignored it.
“I thought what I said might have upset you so much...”
I waved a hand in her direction. “Nope.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I just wanted you to know, in case anything happens to Michael...”
I held a hand up to stop her and had to clench my hand, driving my fingernails into my palm, to keep from doing more. “Nothing is going to happen to Michael.”
“I sincerely hope not! But we need to plan, just in case...”
“I prefer to live in the moment. I’m going to trust God to take care of Michael.”
“But if anything were to happen, I’m sure you’d want Michael’s child taken care of, wouldn’t you?” She spoke the words in a rush, before I had a chance to interrupt.
“I’ve already told you that your relationship with Michael is in the past. You’ll have to discuss this with Michael, not with me.”
“If I had his address, I suppose I could write him...”
“No!”
“You just told me to discuss this with Michael.”
I sighed and pushed my hair back with both hands. My head ached, and the nausea was returning. I dug in my pocket for another peppermint. “You haven’t told him you think the baby is his?”
“No, I haven’t had a chance. And I don’t think it’s his — I know it is. And he needs to know.”
“Now is not the time to tell him. He’s going to war, for God’s sake!” I clamped a hand over my mouth, my cheeks reddening for taking the Lord’s name in vain.
“So, if you don’t want me to tell Michael he has a child to support, then that means you’ll help out.”
“Help out?”
“Yes... financially.”
“Why do you need help? You have a husband and you’re living with your husband’s parents.”
She lifted a hand from the steering wheel, turning it palm up, and laughed. “I can’t stay there forever. And William is not an officer, like Michael will be. His pay... well, it’s not enough.”
So, that was it. She was blackmailing Michael through me. She was used to getting whatever she wanted, and now, she had to make do, like the rest of us, and she didn’t like it.
I spoke through gritted teeth. “Sylvia, I have absolutely no proof the baby you’re carrying is Michael’s.”
The grimace on her face turned into a smile. “There are some... details I could tell you... but I’m not sure you’d want to hear it.”
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach.
“I could tell you Michael’s...”
“Stop!” She was right. I couldn’t bear to hear it. Of course, she could be bluffing. She had been Michael’s girlfriend, and there were things she might know. That didn’t prove Michael was the father. I cast her a sideways glance and decided to ask. “How much money do you need?”
“Fifty dollars a month should cover some of the expenses.”
My mouth dropped open. For a moment, white, hot anger choked me, and I couldn’t speak. Fifty dollars was more than half of what I’d make working at the vet’s. After a few deep breaths, I was able to get some words out. “You are one crazy heifer.”
“Heifer? What’s that?” Her lips twitched. She was enjoying this.
“A cow. I would call you a dog, a dog of the female persuasion, but I love dogs too much to insult them with the comparison.”
We pulled into my yard, and I yanked open the door and jumped out before it came to a full stop. I slammed the door with full force, knowing she could not care less how upset I was and was probably getting a kick out of it. Coby met me as I stumbled toward the front door, without looking back. My legs buckled at the bottom of the steps, and I fell forward, onto one knee, but managed to struggle to my feet.
Sylvia got out of the car and walked toward me. I held up a hand. “Get back. Don’t touch me.” Coby didn’t growl, but the fur on his back bristled, and he curled back his lip.
She threw her hands up. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “I’ll send Laurie over. She doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty.”
I didn’t answer, simply glared. My entire body shook with anger, and I held myself rigid until she drove away. After she left, I managed to climb the steps. I lay flat on my back on the porch, angrier than I had ever
been in my life. I gulped in deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. Coby lay beside me, occasionally nudging my hand.
But my heart still thumped loudly in my chest when Laurie arrived. I allowed her to help me into the house. After I was somewhat cleaned up and had eaten a few bites, I went to bed.
I hadn’t told Laurie what had happened, knowing I could not talk about it rationally. Unusual for her, she didn’t push me to talk. She sat at my bedside, reading to herself, or at least pretending. Whenever I opened my eyes, I caught her peeking at me, worry frowns on her face. I finally closed my eyes firmly and didn’t open them again. Eventually I slept.
I had gone to bed so early I was up at the crack of dawn. The sleep I had gotten must have done the trick for I felt much stronger. I made it to the kitchen without waking Laurie, who had crawled into bed with me sometime during the night.
I rooted around in the pantry and found apple cider vinegar but no honey. I heated a kettle of water on the wood stove and poured the hot water into a coffee cup, adding a tablespoon of the vinegar and a spoonful of sugar. It didn’t taste too bad, and I managed to get it down and keep it down.
I went onto the back porch to wash my face and brush my hair. The morning was cool, but not cold, and I lingered outside, detangling my hair and enjoying the sunrise and Coby’s companionship. After I got the tangles out, I braided my hair into one long braid down my back. I went into the house and entered the bedroom to change into a clean pair of overalls. Laurie had gotten up and was banging pans in the kitchen. I looked in as I hitched up a strap.
She was breaking eggs into a bowl and glanced at me, still holding the egg shell in her hand. “Jay, you look a lot better. I was a mite worried about you.”
“I do feel better.”
Her eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of my overalls. “You’re not going to work?”
“Yes, I’m going to work. If I don’t go, I’ll lose my job.” And if I paid Sylvia, even a portion of the money she asked for, I was going to need it. The thought shocked me. Was I going to give into Sylvia’s blackmail? If I didn’t, what would she do? Tell others. That’s what I was afraid of, wasn’t it? That she might tell people that the baby was Michael’s. What would Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt think?
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