Bittersweet (49 page)

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Authors: Cathy Marie Hake

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #ebook, #book

BOOK: Bittersweet
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“Thankee for comin’, Miz Newman. And thankee for the purdy li’l doll you made for my girl.”

“Annabelle is beautiful, Ivy. I hope she brings you as much joy as my daughter brings me.”

Laney finished drying the teacups. “Just imagine: someday Greta and little Annabelle will have tea parties together.”

“What a sweet thought!” Mrs. Newman peeked into the cradle one last time. “I wanted to come celebrate your arrival, but I can’t help myself. Mr. Newman and I are to be blessed again. Annabelle might have a little playmate her own age.”

“When yore time draws nigh, we’ll come holp you.”

A few minutes later, Annabelle let out one tiny squeak, and Ma bustled across the cabin. “There, there,” she cooed.

“I’m heating water so she can have a bath,” Laney said.

“The both of you are making that baby spoilt as cain be.” Ivy leaned back in the rocker. “And you done spoilt me, too. I been lazier than a ’leven-year-old hound dog for the last week.”

Ma snuggled the baby on her shoulder and patted her on the back. “Annabelle, dear, tell your mama to enjoy her leisure now. Before long, the tomatoes will be coming ripe, and so will everything else. In a few weeks she’s going to wish she could just sit around!”

“’Member the day we made all that pear butter? ’Twas one of the bestest days of my life. Ruth was a-standin’ out on the porch and callin’, ‘Laney, come meet our new friend.’ Made me so happy, thought my heart was bustin’.”

“We’ll be sure to make pear butter again this year,” Ma promised. Laney put the last teacup in the cupboard. “Who do you think will ask about adding apples to a batch—Hilda or Ruth?”

“Hilda already mentioned it to me,” Ma said.

Ivy let out a tired laugh. “And Ruth done asked me—only she said ’twould all be for Hilda on account of the stuff makes her wanna puke now.”

Galen came into the house. He stood behind Ma and tapped Annabelle’s tiny nose. “Hello, sweetheart. Ma, I’m going to send Colin to town with the vegetables. He’s got on those britches you made—the ones you dyed with indigo. Lester’s bound to have a fit and decide our Colin’s ready to join up with the North just because his britches are blue. Can you talk sense into him?”

“Into our Colin or into Lester?” Ma laughed. “I’m thinkin’ they’re both stubborn. Have Colin tell Lester we’ll be needing paraffin wax so we can make more jelly for him. That ought to sweeten his attitude.”

“After Ivy nurses Annabelle, I’ll bathe her. Mrs. Long brought over tonight’s supper.” Laney tested the water on the stove. “Why don’t you go to town with Colin? Ruth said she’s expecting a new book entitled
Great Expectations
that’s all the rage back East. We could read it aloud.”

“An’ mebbe you could ask the parson what hymns we’ll sang in church Sunday. You and Laney cain teach me the words so’s I ain’t bellerin’ out the wrong ’uns like Mr. Lufe.”

“You’ll still be bellowing—just the right words,” Galen teased.

“Yore the one what tole me that Bible verse ’bout makin’ a joyful noise. A crow prob’ly wouldn’t swap his voice for mine, but I’m a-gonna lift it and sang to God anyhow.”

Galen went back out to work and Ma left for town. After Laney and Ivy had bathed Annabelle, Ivy collapsed into bed and fell fast asleep. Her dreams turned wild, and she was aware of Laney touching her forehead and fretting, “She’s still far too hot!” She opened her eyes just enough to see Galen kneeling by the bed, praying. It was too hard to keep up with it all, so she kept her eyes closed and slept.

“Laney?” Ivy’s voice was thready.

“I’m here.” Laney grabbed a cool cloth and bathed Ivy’s face. “Your fever’s down. You look much better.”

“Ain’t sayin’ much. Niver looked any good to begin with.” Ivy closed her eyes for a few minutes.

“You need to drink. Here.” Laney slid her arm behind the pillow and lifted.

“’Tis ’nuff. Thankee. How’s my Annabelle?”

“Fat and sassy. Galen tried to change her diaper this morning.

You’ve never seen such entertainment. We’ll have to ask him to do that chore more often, just for fun.” Laney did her best to sound chipper, but in truth, she was desperately worried. Three days of fighting childbed fever had sapped every last shred of Ivy’s stamina. Just this morning Doc had come by, looking grim when he examined Ivy.

“Ma, are you here?” Ivy asked.

“I’m over here, ironing.”

“I aim to talk to Laney. What I gotta say, ’tis fittin’ that you hear it, too. Mostly, I want you to make Laney listen to me.”

“I’ll listen,” Laney said. “Just don’t assume it means I’ll agree with you. I’m shamefully stubborn.”

“When I lied, I done a bad thang.”

Laney gently sponged Ivy’s limp wrists with a tepid cloth.

“God’s forgiven you.”

“But I didn’t jist lie. I stole.” Ivy drew in a shallow breath.

“Ishy said so, and he was right.”

“Ivy, you’d never steal anything.”

“I stole yore happiness,” she breathed, tears silvering her eyes.

“I stole yore man. I was so scairt, but that ain’t no excuse. I just thought Galen was showin’ good manners. But after all you taught me, I know ’twas special courtin’ manners he used round you.”

Lord, what am I to say?
Laney used the cloth on Ivy’s forehead and cheeks. “Galen’s a gentleman. Of course he was kind to me, just as he is to every other woman.”

“I feel dreadful bad.”

“It’s the fever. Once you rest and have your strength back—” “No. Well, yeah.” Ivy opened her eyes. “My body ain’t doin’ me no favors. But that’s why I’m tryin’ to get you to listen to me.

My heart cain’t be at peace ’less you make me two promises.”

“You’ll get better.”

“Annabelle. I love her.”

Laney smiled. “I know you do. We all do. She’s a darling baby girl.”

“I tole the lie ’cause I wanted my babe to have better’n I did.

And she will. She ain’t gonna be cold or hungry or lonesome.

Please, Laney, don’t hold it ’gainst her that her mama was a liar.”

“Annabelle is my precious little niece. My love for her is as pure as can be. Don’t ever worry about that, Ivy.”

Ivy closed her eyes and let out a long, choppy sigh. “I seed the love in yore eyes. I know ’tis true.”

“So now you can rest easy.”

“Cain’t. Not till you promise t’other thang.”

Laney cast a wary look at Mrs. O’Sullivan. She put the iron back on the stove and approached the bed. Cupping Ivy’s cheek, she said in a loving lilt, “Ivy-mine, Annabelle needs her mama. You need to save your energy and get well.”

“I give my heart to Jesus at that hitchin’ post in church. If ’n He wants me to walk them streets of gold aside Him, I reckon my soul’s ready. My heart ain’t, though. I cain’t have peace yet. I busted up Laney and Galen, and that was a sore bad thang to do.

I niver give my heart o’er to Galen. He’s been a dreadful fine friend, but ’twas all he e’er was to me.”

“Galen has grown very fond of you,” Laney said.

“I knowed that. I like him jist fine, too. And I always want him to know that. But I see how Ishy and ’Manda feel for each other and how Ruth and Josh do, too. Me and Galen—we was friends what shared his last name for awhile.”

“You still do. When you get better, you and he can spend time together. I’m sure you’ll develop tender feelings for each other.”

Ivy let out a sigh. “Cain’t force a turtle to fly. I ain’t a-gonna rest ’less Laney give me a promise that she’ll step ’longside Galen and rekindle their love.”

In the few seconds Laney struggled to formulate a response, Ivy fell asleep.

Laney sat out on the porch and stared into the distance. Mrs.

O’Sullivan stepped behind her. “We don’t know what the future holds, Laney.”

“Which is why I can’t make any promises to her. When she gets well—”

“If a miracle happens, she will. I’ve seen but one woman recover from her childbed fever.”

“Well, Ivy will be the second one.”

“Courage and faith. I told you ’twould be both you’d need to see this through.”

“I have faith that God can heal Ivy.”

Mrs. O’Sullivan curled her fingers around Laney’s wrist and turned her. “I had faith that God could heal my Cullen, too. But I had to come to terms with the fact that just because He could and that was what I wanted, it didn’t mean it would be so. Faith also means trusting God will act in love.”

“But—” “On Christmas Day, when this all started, we thought nothing good would come of it. We were wrong. Ishmael and Ivy both found salvation. People in our church learned to be more loving.”

Laney swallowed and gave no response.

Several hours later, Ivy reached for Laney’s hand. “You ain’t promised yet. ’Bout Galen.”

Laney had prayed and thought hard. She gave the only pledge she could. “If ever there’s a need, I’ll step alongside of Galen and help with Annabelle.”

Galen was wearing the gray-black shirt they’d ruined the day he’d tried to do laundry. When he injured his arm and the sleeve got the ragged rip, everyone else said the shirt was irreparable—everyone but Ivy. Mending that rip seemed so important to her. She’d bowed her head over the jagged edges and painstakingly put the pieces back together. Galen understood—she couldn’t fix what really hurt, but she could repair that sleeve. He’d worn the shirt since then as a sign to her. He’d hoped it would get through to her that with time and care, her heart would mend, too.

Now Annabelle slept in his arms, all wrapped in the blanket Ivy had so painstakingly embroidered for her. He and Ishmael both unashamedly wept as Pastor Dawes said a prayer over Ivy’s grave.

Back at the house, Laney took care of Annabelle while Hilda saw to feeding everyone. Over the next week, the ladies from the Broken P came and did everything from washing diapers to canning tomatoes. Doc made up a recipe using Borden’s canned milk and molasses so Annabelle would have something to eat.

Then Ma got a sore throat. Gargling with salt water didn’t help. Two days later, Ma had scarlet fever. Laney swept into the house, bundled up the things she needed, and told Galen, “I’ll send Hilda to care for your mother. I’m taking the three boys and Annabelle to the Broken P. It’s for the best.”

“If this is catching, Ruth shouldn’t be exposed.”

“I’ll stay in the cottage with the children. You take care of things here.”

After two long weeks, Ma was finally recovering enough that Laney and Hilda could bring the boys back home. Galen sat at the lunch table and watched as Laney coaxed Annabelle to drink some milk. In his heart, he knew Ma wasn’t strong enough to do that every couple of hours. He cleared his throat. “It’s good to have the boys back. They can help Ma and do some chores. Laney, I hate to ask, but can you keep Annabelle a little while longer?”

Laney’s shoulders melted. “I’m so glad you asked. I wasn’t sure how to offer without offending anyone.”

“To be sure, I’m getting stronger,” Ma said. “I could mind her.”

“Nonsense.” Hilda scowled at Ma. “You call yourself my friend, and here you are trying to hoard that baby all to yourself.

You’ll have a lifetime with her. You’re going to share her whether you like it or not.”

“I’ll take good care of her,” Laney said, gazing down at

Annabelle. “Truly, I will. If you’d like, I’ll bring her over every afternoon so you can hold her.”

Ma heaved a loud sigh. “’Tisn’t good for the wee lassie to be out that much. Not with her being so young. I canna be putting my pride before her welfare.”

“Then I’ll come each day to report on how Annabelle is doing.” Hilda walked over to the oven and took out the bread she’d brought to bake.

When they left, Galen pressed one last kiss on Annabelle’s cheek. “I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else.”

Laney gave him a sad smile. “Neither would I.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow, plowboy.” Hilda flicked the reins. “But you send Colin to fetch me if you need me in the meantime.”

The next few days passed uneventfully. Ma rested a lot and seemed a little better after each of Hilda’s visits. Still, Galen worried. He confessed his concerns to Hilda.

“I’m worried, too. But she’s improving. Your mother loved Ivy.

I think maybe the grief is making it hard for her to recover any faster.”

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