The Midwife's Tale (16 page)

He struggled, but lost the battle to keep his eyes open. Before he fell asleep, he managed to whisper the answer she had been waiting to hear.

“My Mama used to call me Will.”

“You sleep, darlin’ Will. Just sleep,” she crooned as she tugged the quilt around his little body. When she finished, she dropped to her knees and bowed her head in prayer before she tidied the room.

She pulled the curtain aside and glanced at the twilight with a satisfied smile. As soon as it grew dark enough, she would take him home, very certain he would proffer no argument about having an escort.

12

T
he tough little street urchin was back in full form the moment Will woke up.

Martha should have known better than to hope otherwise. Short of dying, there were no certainties in this world. She had only to glance at this young boy to know that for a fact. She was not quite sure why this little
gift
had been dropped in her lap via the loft, or exactly what kind of gift he actually would turn out to be, but she was darned determined to unwrap him.

She locked her gaze with his and tried to stare him down. Inside Boy, that tough, independent street urchin who scraped his way to survive by trusting no one, there was a little orphan boy named Will who was desperate for love and affection and the comfort of strong arms to protect him from a cruel and dangerous world. She could only imagine how difficult it must be for him to constantly battle between being one boy or the other, yet she dared to hope and pray Will would one day be strong enough to trust and love again.

And for the patience to be there when he did.

“It’s time to go,” she insisted. Again.

“Ain’t no way I’m ridin’ that ugly ole horse. I’m walkin’. By myself,” he repeated, fifty pounds of pure defiance with unruly hair and a tongue sharp enough to whittle wood.

Her patience finally snapped. “We’ll have to ride together. I’m too old to walk that far. Grace is right outside, saddled and ready to go.”

“Then unsaddle her. You ain’t goin’ with me.”

“You mind your tongue and your manners, young man,” she warned.

He snorted. “You ain’t my mama and you ain’t tellin’ me what to do,” he countered before he charged out the door as fast as his bad knee could carry him. He headed out through the rear yard, where darkness quickly claimed his little form.

“Be careful of the dogs,” she warned in as loud a whisper as she dared.

His lopsided footsteps hesitated, then kept going.

Mumbling to herself about how far she had fallen to try to frighten him into coming with her, she mounted Grace and nudged her forward since she could not follow the boy without running into that dratted new fence.

By the time she made her way out past the main entrance to the tavern, down East Main Street, and onto East Falls Road, her eyes had completely adjusted to the dark and she had a firmer grip on her temper. Fortunately, there was just enough moonlight to guide her. Just as fortunately, Will’s scraped knee slowed him down enough that she easily caught up with him. Since she had not had enough foresight to bring a rope with her to hog-tie the boy to the saddle, she had to settle for outwitting him.

He looked back over his shoulder and snorted. “Go away. I don’t need you to take me home.”

“Will? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” he grumbled, almost as if he were upset she had not recognized him.

“I wasn’t sure. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

He turned his attention back to the road ahead. “I’m goin’ fast as I can. What’re you doin’ here? I told you not to come with me, didn’t I?”

“I thought I might just take a ride since Grace was already saddled.”

“Take another road,” he suggested.

“I like this one.”

No response.

She followed him for about a quarter of a mile in total silence, save for the sound of Grace’s hooves hitting hard dirt and his beleaguered footsteps. When he left the road and entered the woods, she did the same and smiled. There was not a shortcut within ten miles she had not used herself, and she was actually surprised he knew about this one.

Although the ground grew steeper here than if they had stayed on the main road, the shortcut that led to Reedy Creek was faster. Better still, there was not an obstacle along the way that would prevent Grace from following the boy, although there were plenty of paths that branched out and could confuse someone not familiar with the right route.

Like a young boy new to the area.

The stands of trees shut out much of the moonlight. Will would find that more of a deterrent than Grace, which meant Martha could simply relax in the saddle and wait for him to grow tired and ask for help.

He walked nearly a mile into the woods before he stopped and turned around to face her. She could see nothing more than a muted shape. He had squared his shoulders, ready to launch another round of verbal bantering. “You’re follerin’ me,” he spat.

“Yes, I am.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

He limped his way back toward her and stopped just out of arm’s reach. He was close enough now, though, that she could see his features clearly. Eyes flashing with indignation, he tilted up his chin. “I don’t need you. I can get back by myself.”

“You still have three or four miles to go.”

“I’ll get there.”

“I’m sure you will. Along the way, you might consider what you’re going to tell Reverend Hampton and his wife that would explain where you’ve been and why you’ve been gone so long.”

He flinched, turned around, and started walking again. “I got lost in the woods. That’s all. And you can’t say nothin’ different, ’case you’re thinkin’ about it. Gave your word you wouldn’t tell nobody I was in the stable.”

“Yes, I did,” she agreed.

“So go home.”

“After my ride. By the way, before you get home, you’d better take off those bandages. Unless you want to explain how you got them.”

“I’m not dumb,” he spat as he veered down a path to the left. “Not like that ugly ole horse of yours.”

Give me patience, Lord. Patience.

“I wouldn’t go that way. Stay on the main path, unless you want to—”

“I know the right way,” he argued, and continued down the same narrow path anyway. “You’re just tryin’ to get me confused, hopin’ I’ll tucker out and give in. I won’t.”

“Suit yourself. I didn’t realize you wanted to climb up all those rocks to get home. With your bad knee, that is.”

He halted.

She took a deep breath. “This path leads down to the pond and Crying Falls. They’re not very high, but they are dangerous. You can still get home this way, but you’ll have to climb up a steep incline covered with rocks and boulders when the path ends. You’re a strong boy, though. You’ll do fine, but Grace isn’t up to that.”

She paused, but thought better of telling him that this narrow path would meet up again with the main one they had just left.

He started walking forward again. “Good. Then you’ll have to turn back.”

She followed him all the way to the pond and around it until the path came to an abrupt end at the base of the steep incline she had warned him about. The rushing, tumbling waters of the falls nearby broke the eerie silence as he studied the terrain before he turned around and walked back to her.

He tried to grin, but only made it halfway between hope and dismay. His gaze kept shifting back and forth between the rocks and boulders ahead waiting to challenge him and the stubborn woman in front of him now. “Guess you’ll be headin’ back now.”

She nodded. “I think I’ll let Grace drink at the pond a bit, then we’ll go back to the main path and ride a while. You could come back with me, in case you think I’ll get lost,” she offered, giving him a chance to change his mind without losing face.

“This way’s faster for me,” he countered before he turned and started up the incline.

She watched him climb until the shadows claimed him and distance muted the struggle of his efforts. She even waited just a little longer, just in case he decided to turn back or cried out for help. When she was certain he would do neither, she retraced her way back along the path and followed the main shortcut until she was at the top of the incline.

With no sign of Will, she rode ahead a good half of a mile
before turning back. She remained astride and strained to listen for signs that he might be still climbing his way up. Seconds stretched into anxious minutes. Her heart began to pound.

Where was that child?

“Wretched rock!” His voice echoed close by, followed by the sound of falling rock. “There. That’ll teach ya!”

She grinned, dismounted, tethered Grace to a nearby tree, and sat down on an old stump a few feet away from the top of the incline.

She waited and said a silent prayer he would not tumble back down.

When he finally clawed his way to the top, he lay facedown on the ground not ten feet away from her. He was panting heavily, but otherwise appeared to be none the worse for his efforts, although it was too dark to tell for sure.

She held silent and very still for fear she might frighten him.

He rolled to his side, looked directly at her, and glared. “What happened? That dumb horse of yours get you lost?”

She chuckled. “No. We went back to the shortcut and wound up here. Turns out it was faster. Easier, too,” she added when he stood up.

His clothes were thoroughly disheveled, and it would take a woman with a lot of skill to mend those trousers now. Miraculously, the bandage on his knee looked intact, but strips of tattered cotton hung from his hand. He tore them off and started toward the path ahead with a heavier limp than earlier.

She let him pass her by. When he continued on his way without looking back at her, she untethered Grace and led her by the reins until she caught up with him. She walked alongside of him and slackened her hold on the reins so Grace was behind them. “You still have another few miles to go. You’re still welcome to ride Grace with me.”

He snorted. “I ain’t ridin’ that old horse or any other horse till I got my own.”

“I’m surprised you want a horse at all since you think all horses are dumb.” She looked back over her shoulder to her mare. “He didn’t mean you, of course.”

“A man’s gotta have a horse to ride or plow or pull a wagon. I said they were useful. Just so happens they’re also dumb. Not much a man can do about that.”

Before Martha could respond, Grace gave Will a nudge right in the middle of his back. He spun around and went face-to-face with the horse. “Hey! What’re you doin’, you mangy, ugly—”

The mare nudged him in the chest.

“That’s enough from both of you,” Martha warned, and tightened her hold on the reins to keep Grace under control. She patted the mare’s face, but kept her gaze focused on Will. “You hurt her feelings, and she let you know it, didn’t she? Next time, mind your tongue as well as your manners.”

“She tried to bite me, and all you’re worried ’bout are my manners?”

“If Grace wanted to bite you, which I doubt, she would. Good and proper, too. Several months back, Debra Collins found that out for herself.”

He inched back from the horse. “What’d . . . what’d she do?”

“I gave Debra a carrot to give to Grace. Debra thought it would be more fun to tease her. I tried to warn her, but that girl just wouldn’t stop. Next thing, Grace had the carrot and all four of Debra’s fingers clamped between her teeth.”

He stepped back a little farther and clenched his fingers into tight fists. “The horse ate her fingers?”

Martha chuckled. “No, Grace just held on to them for a bit. She never even broke the skin, but I doubt Debra will ever tease Grace or any other animal again soon. I’m sure if you
apologize to Grace for calling her dumb and ugly, she’ll leave you be.”

“You made that up,” he charged. “I ain’t apologizin’ to no horse.”

Grace stomped her foot, whinnied, and tugged at the reins.

He flinched, but held his ground.

Martha shrugged her shoulders. “Have it your way, then. I should probably warn you Grace is just as stubborn as you are. Might make for a longer walk home since you’ll have to keep well ahead of her. I’m not sure I can hold her back when I’m walking. Now, if I rode, I surely would, and if you rode behind me, Grace couldn’t do much about that. At least it would give you both time to settle down a bit.”