A Run for Love (13 page)

She didn’t move. Had she fallen asleep? He left the room, gathered the blankets, and went outside. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, and a few stars had already made their appearance. After he arranged the blankets in the back of the carriage, he returned to the house to get his wife.

Tori lay on her side, hands covering her eyes, shoulders jerking in tiny spurts. His heart pounded in his ears as he lifted her as if she were a delicate china doll, and headed for the door.

Tori kept her eyes closed the whole time Jesse fussed with her, making sure she was well-covered. No matter how many times Dr. Hendricks’s reassuring comments ran through her mind, she knew her actions had caused the miscarriage. In her stubbornness, she refused to see the doctor, worrying foolishly about gossip. She’d offended God by allowing Jesse to make love to her when they weren’t married. And, most of all, she’d rebuffed Jesse’s pleas to cut down her work hours. The weight of the guilt she carried paralyzed her.

Although scared, she’d loved her baby from the first. Sure, she felt ashamed, but she always loved the little life growing under her heart. To know her actions, her stubbornness and obstinacy, had caused her baby’s death made the grief so much worse.

Jesse pulled in front of their house and lifted her from the carriage. Rachel, who they’d left wringing her hands at the dance when he’d fled with Tori, stood inside the door, holding a lamp.

“Is she all right?”

“She will be. She needs to rest.”

“The baby?” Rachel whispered.

“We lost the baby.”

Tori turned her face into Jesse’s chest. She inhaled deeply, comforted by his smell. It didn’t surprise her Rachel knew. Why did she worry about everyone gossiping? Those who mattered to them wouldn’t condemn, and those who were true friends wouldn’t care. How foolish she’d been.

Jesse got her settled in bed, stoking the stove, and fussing with her covers. She still hadn’t said anything, but her eyes were opened, and she followed his movements around the room.

Rachel approached the bed. “Tori, can I get you anything?”

“Some tea might be nice,” she said, attempting a smile, but falling short.

With tears in her eyes, Rachel took Tori’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Tori swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I appreciate it.” Her voice trembled.

Rachel swiped at the tears that trickled down her face, and Tori pulled her in for a hug. After a long minute, the girl said, “I’ll get that tea now.”

Jesse stood with his back to the room, staring out the window, hands in his pockets. “Bring her some toast with it, please.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tori said.

“Bring it anyway, Rachel.” His tone didn’t allow for any argument.

He turned from the window and walked to the bed, taking her hands as he sat. “I’m sorry about the baby. It was mine, too, honey, but you’ll heal and, in time, there will be more.”

More? How could he stand to touch her after what she’d done? She pulled from his grip. “No.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t deserve babies, and I don’t deserve you. This is my fault.”

Jesse pulled her against him as the tears started again and dampened his shirt. “Of course it’s not your fault, Tori. Dr. Hendricks said these things happen sometimes. It’s no one’s fault.”

“I know you think I didn’t care about the baby,” she said, gulping between sobs. “Because I wouldn’t go to the doctor, or stop working, but I did love our baby.” She gulped again. “I did.” She tried to push him away. She didn’t deserve his compassion, but he only hugged her closer.

“I know that. And right now you’re miserable. So am I. But in time we’ll both feel better.”

Rachel carried a tray into the room and he motioned for her to set it on the dresser. “Thank you.” He turned, meeting Tori’s gaze. “I want you to drink your tea and eat some of the toast. Then I’ll give you the medicine Dr. Hendricks gave me to help you sleep.”

Tori drank most of the tea and managed a bite of the toast. Jesse put the tray back on the dresser and mixed the white powder in a glass of water. After she drank it down, he pulled the old quilt over her and kissed her on the forehead. She snuggled in deep, comforted by the familiar smell of the quilt, never hearing him close the door.

It didn’t surprise Jesse to find Rachel outside the door, her arms hugging her middle. “I’ve never seen Tori like this.”

“Losing a baby is a painful thing, Rachel, both to the body and the mind. I expect she’ll not be herself for a while. Do you think you can talk to Mrs. Bonner tomorrow? She’ll need to get someone else to do the baking now, instead of later. I’ll go see the school board president, Mr. Early, and let him know Tori will be out of work.”

“I know how to bake. I’ll take over for her.”

Warmth spread through him. Rachel had turned into a fine young lady. Tori should be proud.

“How are things at your house?”

“We’re doing all right. The biggest problem we have is getting Hunter and Ellie to do their chores, but Michael can be pretty persuasive when he wants.”

He glanced at the clock. “Thanks for your help, but I think you need to get back home and get some sleep.

Rachel laid her cool hand on Jesse’s arm. “I’m glad Tori has you watching out for her. She’s always been strong, and in charge. It’s nice for her to be able to lean on someone else for a change.”

“I hope you’re right. I don’t think Tori likes depending on anyone else very much.”

“She’ll get used to it.” Rachel rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He locked his office, then went to the back room where Tori slept. After he undressed, he slid in alongside her. She whimpered when the bed dipped, but quieted when he pulled her into his arms.

Jesse gazed at the ceiling. Of course word of her miscarriage would carry through town, so there wouldn’t be any hiding the fact theirs had been a shotgun wedding. He smiled. Those types of weddings took place all the time.

Thoughts of the baby they lost crowded his mind. Would it have been a girl or boy? He hadn’t thought about what the child would look like. Now he dwelled on images of a small freckled-face boy tossing a ball to him, or a little girl with huge brown eyes behind spectacles climbing on his lap, picture book in hand.

A single warm tear slid down his cheek, pooling in the corner of his mouth.

The next morning, Tori woke to a dull throbbing low in her belly. She rolled to her side and wrapped her arms around her middle, rocking herself. The baby was gone. She’d killed it. How could she live the rest of her life with that? Jesse placed the back of his hand on her face, as if checking for fever.

“Do you want some of the pain medicine Dr. Hendricks left?” He ran his hand over her back.

“Okay.”

“I think you should eat something first.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat or you won’t get well.”

She turned onto her back and sighed. “Fine, bring me anything.”

Jesse got out of bed and, after washing and dressing, left the room.

“How’s Tori this morning?” Mrs. Bonner poured Jesse a cup of coffee.

He ran his hand over his face. “In pain. Quiet. Very un-Tori.”

“Poor girl.” Mrs. Bonner tsked. “I’ll fix a nice breakfast and take it to her. Maybe she needs to talk.”

“I’d appreciate it. She hasn’t said much to me. Everything’s bottled up inside her.” He took a cautious sip from the steaming cup.

“It’s hard on a woman, losing a baby.” She swiped the table with a wet rag. “What about you, Jesse? How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. I mean I feel bad, but right now I’m more concerned about Tori. The fact that she’s so quiet has me worried.” He tried to smile. “I guess it will take time.”

Tori lay on her side, facing the door. She opened her eyes at the slight knock. Mrs. Bonner held a basket covered with a red and white checked cloth on her arm.

“Tori?” Mrs. Bonner whispered. “I brought you breakfast.”

Tori sat up, and pain shot through her belly.

“Jesse tells me he has medicine for you, but you need some food in your tummy first. Then you’ll feel much better.” She pulled the curtains back, letting the warm sunshine drift into the room. After fluffing the pillows, she tucked a napkin under Tori’s chin.

The older woman pulled out a small pot of tea, a bowl of oatmeal, and a plate of toast, then placed them on the dresser. Tori closed her eyes, but a tear escaped.

“Do you want to talk?” Mrs. Bonner smoothed Tori’s hair back.

When she attempted to speak, only a squeak emerged. Mrs. Bonner sat on the bed, put her arms around her and rocked, rubbing her back and humming like a mother would comfort a small child. Something Tori never experienced from Aunt Martha. She, of the ‘chin up’ school of thought. Tori inhaled Mrs. Bonner’s scent. Spices and coffee.

“It will be all right. These things happen, and one day there will be more babies.”

Tori took a deep breath, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “No. You don’t understand. This is God’s punishment. I killed my baby.”

She clucked her tongue. “No, Tori. You didn’t kill your baby. Some babies just don’t ‘take,’ and you lose them. It happened to me one time, too.”

“Jesse begged me to cut my hours and see Dr. Hendricks, but I kept putting him off.” She clenched and unclenched her fists and continued. “I thought seeing the doctor too soon would encourage gossip. Now the whole town knows anyway. And I refused to cut my work hours, and look what happened.” She put her hands in her face and wept.

Mrs. Bonner pulled her back into her arms.

“Jesse probably hates me, too,” Tori continued, her voice muffled from the comfort of Mrs. Bonner’s shoulder. “He knows it’s my fault.”

The older woman frantically shook her head. “No, Tori, Jesse doesn’t hate you. He loves you. He’s so upset because you feel so bad. The poor man looks like he didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Can I just have my medicine so I can go back to sleep?” Tori mumbled.

“You must eat something first. Here, take a little bit of the oatmeal and toast.”

Tori managed to swallow a few bites, and pushed the rest away. Mrs. Bonner mixed the powder and handed the glass to her. Tori swallowed the liquid and, easing down, turned away from Mrs. Bonner, pulling the covers high on her shoulders.

A week later, Jesse climbed the steps of the small house at the end of School House Road. The plump, rosy-cheeked housekeeper answered his knock. “Hello, Mrs. Wallis, is the doctor in?”

“Yes, he’s with a patient, but if you don’t mind waiting, I’m sure he’ll be able to see you.” He followed her into the front parlor and took a chair next to the fireplace.

“By the way, I’m very sorry about the baby. How is Mrs. Cochran doing?”

“Thanks, ma’am. I’m afraid my wife isn’t doing too well, which is why I want to talk to Dr. Hendricks.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. Losing a baby is very hard.” She smoothed the front of her starched apron.

Jesse gave her a scant smile.

Mrs. Wallis patted his arm. “Give her time. But maybe the doctor can talk to her. He should be through in a minute.”

Jesse slumped in the chair. The cheerful fire did little to dispel his chill. Seven days, and Tori still refused to get out of bed, ate very little, and cried a lot. Nothing he said or did made a difference. She’d built a wall around herself and refused to let him in. He was at a loss and had no idea how to help her.

A young woman holding a sniffling toddler came out of the office. She thanked the doctor as she went out the door.

“Jesse.” The doctor nodded at him. “What brings you here today? Is Tori running a fever?”

“No, but can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, son, come on in.” He ushered Jesse into the office and asked Mrs. Wallis to bring some tea.

“So, what’s the problem?” the doctor said, sitting in the leather chair behind his massive desk as he studied Jesse over the top of his spectacles. Despite his problems, Jesse grinned at the mess of papers scattered everywhere. He doubted he’d be able to find a spot to place a pencil.

Jesse rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. Tori is so, I don’t know, depressed, maybe. But what bothers me the most is she blames herself for losing the baby.”

“Well, if memory serves, you also tried to blame yourself.” The doctor shifted in his chair.

“I guess maybe I still feel a little guilty, but Tori really believes it. She won’t eat, she cries a lot, and nothing makes her mad.”

When the doctor raised his gray bushy eyebrows, Jesse smiled and continued. “I guess that sounds strange, but Tori’s always had a lot of fire in her. Bickering and being generally cantankerous is a part of who she is. Now she agrees with everything I say, and I find it downright scary.”

“Give her time. This is all still new. Listen to her if she wants to talk, hold her when she cries, and try your best to get her to eat and drink. She’ll come around. Time, son, time heals all wounds.”

The doctor’s soothing tones eased the tense muscles at the back of Jesse’s neck and shoulders. “Okay, I’ll give it more time. You’re probably right.”

Jesse peeked into the kitchen where Rachel, Ellie, and Tori had been cooking since before dawn. Hard to believe it was Thanksgiving, five weeks since she’d lost the baby. The Bonners were coming for the holiday, and a knock at the door alerted Jesse they’d arrived.

He led Mr. Bonner through a tour of the completed addition to the house. Jesse had tried to get Tori to pick out paint and furniture, but to no avail.

Thoughts ran through his mind as they examined the area. Time had indeed passed since she lost the baby, but the old Tori had not returned. He hated her agreeable demeanor. All the spark and life had left her.

She’d resumed her baking for the restaurant, but showed no enthusiasm for it, or anything else. In the evenings, she sat and stared, or worked on some sewing. Any conversation he tried to have with her ended with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ answers.

For old times’ sake, he’d tried baiting her to get some response, but she only agreed with him or ignored him. He’d talked to Dr. Hendricks a few more times, but the doctor always responded the same way. “Time.” To Jesse, time was running out. No matter what he did, his wife remained depressed. He came up with the idea of having her decorate the new addition, but she had no interest.

The group walked by the bedroom, the hardest room for Jesse. The doctor told him they could resume intimacy a few weeks ago, but every time Jesse made a move toward her, she said the same thing. “Not tonight.” He would love to hold her in his arms, and be intimate that way, rather than having sex. It would be a start. When he tried, she remained stiff as a board.

Every time he tried to talk to her about the baby, she turned a deaf ear and, in some cases, even left the room.

After Thanksgiving dinner, the ladies cleared away the dishes and served dessert. They’d baked several pies, and the smell of cinnamon and apples wafted in the air, making Jesse’s mouth water. Barely taking one bite, he rose in answer to a knock at the door.

“Pastor Dave, Jane, come on in.” He stepped back to allow the couple to enter. “It feels like snow out there.”

Jane tugged on Jesse’s hand as he took her coat. He leaned down to listen. “How’s she doing?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “About the same. I admit I’m at a loss.”

Jane frowned and entered the noisy kitchen.

“I’m so glad you made it for dessert.” Mrs. Bonner hugged the Pastor and his wife and guided them to chairs.

Jane peered at Tori. “How are you doing?”

Tori smiled slightly. “I’m fine. You?”

“Fine, just fine.” The woman stirred her tea, taking furtive looks at Tori. Jesse shook his head and thinned his lips when Jane’s eyes met his.

He’d hoped being with family and friends and the holiday itself would lift Tori’s spirits, but she still seemed detached from everyone. Throughout the day she’d smiled at the right times, but her eyes were dead.

The bed dipped as Jesse sat on the edge of the mattress. Tori had her back to him. She held her body rigid so she wouldn’t roll to the center as he settled himself.

“Did you have a good time today with the whole family together for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes. It was nice.”

Please God, don’t make this another one of those ‘we have to talk’ nights.

“Tori, we need to talk.”

She sighed and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her hands crossed over her chest. How large would her tummy be by now? Would she feel the kicks of little feet, or would it be too soon? Without conscious thought, her hand moved in circles on her stomach.

Tori didn’t know how many more of these ‘talks’ she could take. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make him understand the tremendous guilt she carried.

Her gaze scanned her husband, and for the first time saw him not as the adversary she’d always enjoyed sparring with, but a man forced into a marriage he surely regretted. A man who now had to deal with a miserable, unwanted wife.

He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples with a thumb and forefinger.

“You’re not making this easy, you know.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Tori knew exactly what came next.

“Us. . . you, me. What’s going on, or should I say what’s not going on.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She moved to turn back. He grabbed her shoulder. “Don’t do this, Tori. Talk to me. You haven’t been yourself in so long, I feel like I’m living with a ghost.”

“What do you want me to say?” Her voice shook.

“Say anything. Argue with me, insult me, be yourself again.”

“Don’t you understand?” She pushed herself upright, and the tears fell. “I killed our baby.”

“Damnit, stop saying that.” He jumped up and paced. “We lost our child because, well, because like Dr. Hendricks said, it just wasn’t ‘right.’ It happens. He explained it to us.”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Let me go to sleep, Jesse, I’m so tired.”

“If you would give us a chance, there could be another baby,” he said softly.

Her head whipped around. “No. No more babies. Never, and I mean it, Jesse. Never.”

Jesse turned on his heel and left the room. He strode down the hallway, toward the front room. Hands jammed deep in his pockets, he stopped to stare out the office window. The darkness didn’t hide the bare branches of the small, sturdy trees he’d planted in the front yard. The wind had picked up, and it looked cold outside, as cold as his insides.

He sighed. Time to face the fact that Tori wasn’t getting better. He acknowledged his strong feelings for her. Somewhere along the line she’d become important to him, so important he didn’t want to continue with the way things were.

Even though he’d used a heavy hand to get Tori to the altar, he wanted to make the marriage work. He blew out a deep breath. For so much of his life, he resented his mother, and the life she thrust on him. Now he had something real, something that belonged to him. He felt respected and cared for. The children came to him for advice.

He moved to the cabinet by the wall and reached into the lower cupboard and pulled out a bottle. He blew off a thin layer of dust and poured some of the amber liquid into one of the glasses he’d removed from the cabinet. After taking a drink of brandy, he spent the next hour pacing the newly constructed parlor his wife had no interest in decorating.

At the end of the next day, Jesse sat drumming his fingers on the edge of his desk. Even though he’d seen several clients, and resolved a few legal issues that brought him nice fees, nothing kept him from replaying the conversation from the night before.

He’d convince himself he didn’t care, and if Tori wanted to live this way, he could do it. Then her tortured expression when she said she killed their baby flashed in his mind, and he knew he cared too much to watch her suffer.

He glanced at his watch. Supper time. Maybe a meal at The Café would cheer her up.

Silence greeted him as he wandered to the back of the house. “Tori!” He began checking the rooms. The bedroom door stood closed. Maybe she was taking a nap. He knocked lightly and entered. Tori watched him as she folded a blouse. A satchel sat on the bed, filled with her clothes.

“What are you doing?” His mouth turned bone dry.

“Packing.”

“So I see. Are you taking a trip?”

“I’m moving back next door.” She avoided his eyes, her voice barely a whisper.

He dropped his hands to his sides, all the air leaving his lungs. He moved further into the room, took the blouse from her, then rested his shaky hands on her shoulders. “Why are you moving back next door?”

“I can’t do this anymore.” She closed her eyes. Her shoulders shook, and he feared he’d made her cry. Instead, she took a deep breath and opened pain-filled eyes.

“Don’t do this. Running away won’t solve anything.” He pulled her against his chest.

“I’m doing this for you.” She put her hands on his chest and eased back.

Anger flashed through him. “What the hell does that mean?”

She dropped her arms and rested her forehead on his chest.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her closer. “I don’t want you to leave. Please give us another chance.”