Still House Pond (6 page)

Way after dark, John took his leave. Copper kissed him good-bye under the catalpa.

“I don't see why you have to stay,” he said, holding her close. “You said Mary was doing well.”

She shook her head as it rested on his broad chest. Her forehead scraped across the pocket of his rough overalls. “We've talked about this before. Please don't make me feel guilty.”

He lifted her up as if she had no more substance than a will-o'-the-wisp. “It's just I hate being home without you.”

“I know, honey. I know.” She leaned into him as the infant's cry called to her from the lit cabin.

She traced the curve of his neck, feeling his strong pulse against her fingertips. His heart beat in perfect harmony with hers—like an orchestra of two. She often thought if his heart stilled, hers would surely follow suit. It was only when she was in the midst of her work that discord threatened their union. It was simple enough to figure out. He wanted her home—always within easy reach. You'd think he would have adjusted to her ways by now. She had to his, but if John was as close as a waltz, she was a square dance keeping a little distance.

“I wonder,” he said in a low, gruff voice, “if you would take down your hair for me.”

It surprised her that he would ask for something so intimate outside the walls of their bedroom, but her fingers sought the pins and combs and her hair fell free. A rush like a thousand butterfly wings filled her chest when he ran his big hands through her tumbled locks.

“Gracious,” she said, breathless. “Maybe you'd best take your leave now.”

The baby's cry grew louder—more insistent.

“Your hair is like the hottest flame,” he said. “It draws me.”

With her hands on his chest, she pushed him away. “John, really I need to go in.”

“All right,” he said, stealing one last kiss. “But you come home tomorrow.”

Copper was stacking kindling under the washtub just as dawn broke. She had slept like a cat last night in fits and starts, once falling asleep in a chair with baby Merry on her chest. It was always like this when she was away from her own bed and the comfort of John's arms. Plus, there was so much to do and so little time in which to do it. She'd already fired up the cookstove, boiled coffee, and made biscuits. It was early to do a wash, but she wanted to get the soiled birthing linens washed and on the line before Mary's sister came to take over.

When bubbles roiled across the surface of the water, Copper dumped in the sheets and toweling she'd let soak overnight. It was good to be outside so early in the morning while the mist swirled around her feet like the skirts of dancing girls and the sweet breath of the mountains restored her strength. As she stirred the laundry with a wooden paddle, her thoughts strayed to the time she had lived in the city with Simon. Obviously she had loved him enough to be there, but it was a hard place. Everyone lived cheek to jowl like hogs in a pen, and whenever you stepped out of doors, you saw your neighbor and your neighbor saw you. She wondered if anyone who lived in such tight places ever took a truly deep breath.

She'd been seventeen when Simon swept her off her feet and carried her far away to live in the big city. It was an adjustment for sure, but she found her place and learned so much. She might not be birthing babies now if it hadn't been for the teachings of her doctor husband. Thoughts of Simon turned to thoughts of his sister, Alice, and the letter Copper carried deep inside her pocket.

Things had not been good with Alice. No matter how hard Copper tried, she had never been the frilly socialite Alice craved for her only brother. The corners of Copper's mouth twitched and a laugh escaped as she thought of the day, years ago in Lexington, when Alice, along with the upright president of the hospital auxiliary, came calling and found Copper barefoot in the garden. Alice was nearly apoplectic. There were many times Copper unkindly wished she were.

As Copper rubbed a stubborn stain up and down the washboard, she wondered why she still needed to please Alice—especially since she was quite sure that was never going to happen. Of course there were ties that bound tight as apron strings; at first it was their shared love of Simon, and now it was his daughter, Lilly Gray.

Lost in thought, she'd scrubbed too hard and scraped her knuckle raw against the ribbed board.
This is what happens when I don't pay attention,
she chided herself as she wrung out the piece of wash and dunked it in the rinse water.

Sucking on the injured knuckle, she took out the letter with her other hand. It was barely light enough to read, but unfortunately there was no mistaking Alice's request—no, demand! She wanted Lilly, just Lilly, for the month of July. Round-trip train tickets were enclosed. Alice had thought of everything. All Copper had to do was get Lilly to the depot.

The desire to hold the missive to the flame that flickered under the washtub was so strong, Copper had to step back. Last year, she had accompanied Lilly on her yearly visit, along with the twins and Jack. Alice put up a good front with the other children although she had eyes only for Lilly Gray. Then Copper had given in to Alice's pleading and Lilly's whining and allowed Lilly to stay a week beyond Copper's visit. Like the first tentative pull of a moth's wing against a spider's web, Copper could see now how expertly her sister-in-law had woven her manipulative trap. Alice could rightly reason that Lilly would be perfectly safe to travel without her mother. After all, Copper had allowed it before.

Lilly would love the trip. So what was really so upsetting? Copper tried to think it through as she hung dripping laundry on the line.

For one thing there was the time. A month was way too long for Lilly to be gone from her family. Copper would have to negotiate with Alice over that. And it bothered her that Alice thought she would so easily acquiesce to her demands—like a dog flopping on its back and showing its belly. Copper snapped a bedsheet so hard, it flew from her hands and landed in the dirt.

Give me patience, Lord,
she prayed as she put the sheet back in the burbling wash water. She would have prayed for understanding, but she wasn't quite ready for that. There was no use in praying for something she wasn't ready to receive, and she was in no way ready to empathize with Alice Corbett Upchurch.

By midmorning, when Mary's sister arrived with
ooh
s and
aah
s for her brand-new niece, Copper was ready to go home.

Big Boy saddled her chestnut mare and led the horse from the stable. He stroked the horse's long nose. “She's a beauty.”

“Yes, she is,” Copper agreed, putting a foot in the stirrup and accepting Big Boy's hand up. “I'm glad to have her.”

“Say, do you ever hear from Darcy Thomas?”

Copper was not surprised at the question, for she had purchased the mare from Darcy, who happened to be her hired girl's sister. Darcy's husband had assaulted Darcy's brother-in-law Ace Shelton and nearly killed him. Although Ace had recovered, Darcy's husband was still in a federal prison. Darcy had moved from Troublesome Creek with her infant son to be near her husband. It was a complicated situation, and folks still talked about it.

By all accounts Darcy was doing well, though. The dressmaker's shop she owned in the city was a thriving business. She made all of Copper's family's attire except for John's heavy overalls. Those she ordered by the half dozen from the Sears Book of Bargains catalog.

“We got a note from Darcy just last week. She sent it in a package of dresses I ordered for the girls.” Copper took the reins Big Boy unwound from the hitching post. “It sounds like things are going well for her.”

“I'm glad,” Big Boy said. “It weren't her fault—what her husband did. I always wondered why she didn't stay here with her family while he served his time.”

“There's no figuring love,” Copper said.

Little Merry Prudence set up a wail that could be heard all the way to the stable.

“Speaking of which,” Big Boy said with a chuckle.

Copper waved as she rode away.

“Thanks again,” Big Boy called after her. “Mary and I sure do appreciate you.”

Copper let Chessie amble along. Although she was anxious to get home, she enjoyed the slow pace. It seemed the only quiet time she had was on horseback while returning from her midwifery duties. She used the time wisely in silent contemplation and prayer.

Chessie seemed to like their quiet time also. She was such a sweet and docile horse even if skittish at times. Copper leaned forward and patted Chessie's muscular neck. The horse gave a little whinny of satisfaction before something pinged off her left flank. Chessie's ears perked, and she raised her front hoofs in alarm.

Copper pulled the reins in tightly and looked behind them on the packed trail. It was just a pinecone, large and well-formed, left over from last fall. It had startled Chessie, but she was not hurt. Copper studied the woods. There were many pines lining the road.

This would be a good place to bring the children later in the year to gather pine knots for the fireplace and for Christmas decorations. Lilly would especially like that. She gathered pretty things all year to decorate their tree with.

Chessie picked up to a trot. It seemed that neither of them could wait to get home.

6

Lilly skipped down the lane to the creek. She was so happy, she hopscotched without a hopscotch board. But if there had been one, she thought, she would have won. She bet she could even beat Kate Jasper right now. And that was never easy, for Kate had longer legs than Lilly. That was a definite advantage when you played a hopping game.

Maybe she would see Kate tomorrow night at the schoolhouse dance. Mama was letting her go with Manda and her family. Lilly thought it would be fun. Wow, two fun things to think about—a dance and a visit with Aunt Alice for the whole month of July!

Lilly had butterflies in her stomach just thinking about the trip. She would go on the train—she loved trains, with all the screeching of brakes and whistling of whistles and belching of smoke. And then Aunt Alice said that a circus was coming to Lexington. They had missed the circus last year.

Lilly wondered if Aunt Alice would have chocolate ice cream again. She licked her lips. She would like to meet the man who invented ice cream and the one who invented shaved ice too. Purple was her favorite color of shaved ice.

It would pay to be extra grown-up for the next couple of weeks so Mama and Daddy wouldn't have any reason not to let her take a train trip by herself. Last night after supper when she was given Aunt Alice's invitation, she could tell her mother didn't really want to let her go to Lexington alone. Good grief. You'd think she was still a little kid. She held out her arms, threw back her head, and twirled around in excitement. When she stopped, the world kept spinning.

When her eyes settled, she saw a turtle trundling up the bank of the creek. He made slow but steady progress until a thick piece of driftwood blocked the way. Lilly watched to see how the turtle would solve his predicament. With his clawed front feet, the turtle tried to climb the refuse.

“Go around,” she said. “It will only take a little longer.”

But the turtle didn't listen and fell backward in slow motion. The poor thing waved his stubby legs, rocking his shell, trying to right himself.

Lilly laughed. It reminded her of Jack flailing about on the rope swing.

When Lilly got close, the turtle's head and feet disappeared lickety-split inside his domicile. It was the only fast thing a turtle could do. Carefully, she turned the creature over and lifted him by his middle. Stepping over the piece of driftwood, she carried the turtle up the bank and set him down facing away from the creek. She didn't know his destination, but now he had a head start.

She wondered why animals were always wandering. There he had the perfect home with food and running water close at hand, but he wanted to be someplace else. It was like that with other creatures too, she had noticed. Sometimes on the way to town she would see a skunk or a possum lying dead by the side of the road. Why didn't they stay on the safe side of the track? She would have to ask Daddy John.

Maybe traveling was an adventure for them like going to Lexington to visit Aunt Alice was for her. If so, she could understand, but there was no chocolate ice cream reward for turtles and skunks at the end of their journey.

As she walked along, Lilly watched for pretties to add to her treasure box. She had every color of feather you could think of: blue from bluebirds and blue jays, red from cardinals, rusty orange from a robin's chest, soft gray from doves, brown from mockingbirds and wrens, gold from finches, and yellow from wild canaries. She kept them pressed in a heavy book. Maybe she would take the book to the city with her. If she asked, Aunt Alice would have her dressmaker sew Lilly a dress in each feather color. She thought about it. Would that make her spoiled? Mama always worried about Aunt Alice spoiling her, like she was a jar of tomatoes going bad. Maybe she'd just ask for ribbons in each color. She'd leave out the brown feather though. Brown did not go well with her hair.

Giving a wide berth, Lilly passed by the stump where the rattlesnake lived. Thankfully, he did not come out to greet her with his whirring tail today.

Farther up the creek she searched for traps. She didn't find a single one. And the one she had busted was gone too. There was nothing left but a hole in the ground where the stake had been. Lilly puffed out her chest in pride. Someone was getting her message. Kneeling, Lilly smoothed the disturbed ground and covered it with decaying leaves. Because of her, no other animal would die on this spot.

Two chattering chipmunks chased each other around the trunk of a tree. High overhead a squirrel snapped his tail in warning.

Lilly walked on until she came to a low fieldstone wall. Her side of the wall was deep in the shadow of trees, so she stepped over and sat with her back against the warm rock, admiring the meadow full of wildflowers spread out before her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and closed her eyes to sharpen her hearing. Something scratched for food. A towhee, she decided. And that slow, deliberate pad of hooves was surely a doe. Holding her breath, she opened her eyes the least bit and peered at the backside of a huge buck. Suddenly the meadow was alive with deer. She had never seen so many. She wished Aunt Remy were sitting beside her. This was a sight meant to be shared.