Patricia Rice (13 page)

"How long's it gonna take to beat those rebs?" he demanded truculently.

Dora breathed a sigh of relief. He was beginning to see the sense of their words.

"Can't rightly say, Solly, but I expect Mr. Lincoln has plans. You've got some growing left to do. By the time you're ready to leave home, maybe you won't have to."

"All right." Sleep weighed at his eyes. "I'm no field hand, but I'll work for Miss Dora."

Dora closed up her bottle of salve and returned it to her satchel. Avoiding brushing against Pace, she stood up and moved away from the bed. Even when she stepped out of his shadow, she could sense his presence. He smelled of his leather saddle and campfire smoke and something more elusive, something that was all male and all Pace.

The black woman hovering in the background smiled gratefully at Dora. Dora thought she was the boy's aunt, but she had difficulty telling family connections out here. It wasn't as if she'd been properly introduced.

"He will have to rest. Keep him from using that arm as much as possible until it begins to heal. I'll come back out to look at him again as soon as I can."

The woman nodded in understanding and Dora stepped back into the sunlight, knowing Pace would follow.

"I must be losing my touch. I had to find you instead of the other way around," he said as they walked back across the yard.

"I did not expect thee, although I should have known to look for a black cloud when lightning strikes." He was making her nervous. Pace had never made her nervous before. She'd always felt comfortable in his presence as she had felt comfortable with no one else but her adopted parents.

But this man in blue and gold was a stranger to her. She didn't like noticing his height or the muscular strength of his stride. She didn't like knowing he had a distinctive scent all his own, even out here in the fresh air. He wasn't wearing his gun or sword, but she could feel their presence just the same, and she didn't like that any better. He radiated violence.

"Well, that's fair welcome, I must say. I suppose I am to blame if my father has a temper made in Hades?" Pace exclaimed in irritation.

Dora swung around and glared at him. "One does not blame the clouds for the broken trees, either. David is gone. Solly is in pain. Josie is weeping her eyes out and will have a bruise to mark thy passing. And thy brother will no doubt find another poor dirt farmer to burn out to vent his rage. But I do not hold thee responsible. Thou wilt pass on as the cloud passes, leaving someone else to deal with the wreckage."

He stared at her incredulously. "What in hell would you have me do? Turn them all over my knees and beat sense into them?"

She turned and stalked away again. "Nothing. Thou needs do nothing. Go play thy war games. Shoot some poor misguided young men. Run thy horse up and down a few hills. Make thyself a hero. It is nothing to me."

Pace refused to follow her rampage. Remaining in the yard, he yelled after her as she stomped up the stairs, "Angels don't squawk!"

Muttering an undignified epithet, Dora slammed the door on him.

Chapter 8

As the husband is, the wife is:

thou are mated with a clown;

And the grossness of his nature

will have weight to drag thee down.

He will hold thee,

when his passion shall have spent its novel force,

Something better than his dog,

a little dearer than his horse.

~ Tennyson,
Locksley Hall
(1842)

Dora refused to go downstairs for supper. Mrs. Nicholls seldom ate much of the evening meal, and Dora simply finished up what she didn't eat rather than ask the servants to take on an extra task.

She'd heard Pace go to Josie's room earlier in the afternoon. She'd heard the furious outburst of argument later when Charlie came in. She closed out the argument that followed. The situation was hopeless, and all concerned knew it. Yelling wouldn't solve the problem.

She couldn't sit through the torture of that tense meal downstairs. She didn't know how they had any digestion left when they were swallowing all that bile. She would be glad when Pace left. At least when Josie stayed in her room, Charlie went about his business, and they didn't have to pretend they were one big happy family.

Dora straightened the covers on the invalid's bed. Harriet slept. She didn't have anything left to do in here. She was bored out of her mind. If Pace hadn't been home, she could have walked over to the farm and checked on Jackson's progress. The days grew longer and warmer. She would enjoy an evening stroll. She didn't know why she hid away in here just because Pace was home.

A little while later she heard a horse riding out, and she caught a glimpse of blue uniform through the trees when she glanced out the window. He was gone. Thank God.

She wouldn't contemplate why she felt relief at Pace's absence. He didn't look as if he had suffered the hardships of war. He probably loved every minute of it. A man like Pace belonged in the military. Maybe after the war ended he would go out West and fight Indians. Let him fight anywhere but here. She was tired of the violence.

She donned her bonnet and slipped down the front stairs. The light would hold a while yet. She could reach the farm and return before dark. She needed to tell Jackson about Solly.

Jackson wasn't happy about hiring an inexperienced boy in David's place, but he agreed they had little choice. Although Jackson didn't know of her ulterior motives, Dora thought Solly could use a man to take him in hand for a while, and Jackson was the best example she knew. Abolitionists might preach an end to slavery, but she didn't see many people thinking about what would happen to all the inexperienced, uneducated, naive negroes when it happened. They would be crucified unless they learned the ways of the real world. Jackson knew. He could teach Solly.

Satisfied she had done her limited best for the moment, Dora retraced her tracks up the lane to the big house. Darkness shadowed the lane, but she had little fear of the dark. One must fear dying to fear the dark. Dying didn't scare her. Living did.

She entered the front door and heard Charlie and Josie arguing in the upper hall without a thought to the invalid sleeping a few doors away. Dora didn't think she had it in her to face another conflict this day. She thought perhaps David was in the right. She should have left this place, married, and now she would have her own peaceful home.

She still debated climbing the stairs and breaking up the fight or just sneaking around to the back when she heard the crack of Charlie's knuckle against the wall behind Josie. She had come to understand that Charlie unconsciously imitated his father's reactions to frustration, but that did not make the sound any more palatable. Josie's scream ended all thought. Dora reacted instinctively, racing for the stairs as Charlie's cry of terror echoed downward. The horrifying sound of a heavy weight hitting wooden treads forced her to fly faster.

Josie lay on the landing, screaming and crying and holding her protruding abdomen while Charlie kneeled over her, helplessly protesting his excuses.

At Dora's appearance, he turned his handsome face and terrified eyes up to her. "I didn't mean to scare her! She fell. God help me, I didn't mean to hurt her!"

The voice of cynicism cried out to answer, but the Smythes had taught her well. Keeping her expression neutral, Dora answered, "Lift her gently and take her upstairs. It is likely the child's time."

She didn't need to be a magician to know that. The growing wetness and streaks of blood on Josie's skirts warned her. Mother Elizabeth had allowed Dora to assist in very few births before she died, but she had explained a great deal. Once the water broke, the child had to be born or both mother and child would die.

Josie shrieked with hysteria as Charlie tried to lift her, but she couldn't remain there and no one else could carry her. Dora knelt beside her to make certain she had suffered no other injury, whispered a few reassuring words, and when Josie's cries settled to broken sobs, she allowed Charlie to try again.

She had to give him some credit. He looked devastated. He was a big man with more strength than he realized, and Josie was very small in his arms. His actions hadn't been deliberate but made in the heat of the moment. That didn't absolve him of guilt.

"Fetch Annie. Tell her I will need hot water and clean linens. Then go and reassure thy mother. She will be worried." Dora hastened to Josie's side once she lay on the bed, cutting her off from her husband. All would go much easier if they did not tear at each other now.

She heard Charlie's grunt of disbelief over her admonishment about his mother, but she didn't have time to worry over whether he heeded her words. Josie screamed as another contraction took over.

Annie came with the required articles. She lit the lamps, then helped Dora undress Josie and put her in a night shift. They placed thick pads of cotton under her, and she rested comfortably for a while. As Dora wiped her patient's forehead with a cool cloth, Josie grabbed her hand.

"Tell them to fetch my mama. I want my mama here."

Dora looked up at Annie, who nodded her understanding and left the room. "She will be here in plenty of time," Dora said softly. "The first one needs lots of time."

As if to prove her wrong, Josie moaned as her muscles contracted. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists and bit back a stronger cry until the pain went away, then she opened her eyes and glared up at Dora. "I'm going to kill him. Just see if I don't."

Dora didn't think it was her place to argue the point. Soothingly, she answered, "Thou wilt feel much better when the babe is in thy arms. Has thou thought of names?"

"Amy, for my mother," Josie answered decisively.

"And if it should be a son?"

"It won't be." Josie set her pretty face with determination. "I'm not having any boys. They're despicable creatures, every one."

Right now, Dora was in perfect accord with that feeling. She smiled and asked teasingly, "Even Pace?"

"Especially Pace. I hate him. I hate them all. I'm going home to Mama." Another contraction took over and Josie's declarations dissolved into incoherent curses.

Dora had a long time to wonder about a woman's plight as she watched the woman in the bed suffer through the hours of increasingly excruciating pain. She had never thought what it would be like to have a child herself. She'd always carried some vague image of presenting this gift of life to a loving husband someday, but reality sat on her doorstep now. Love hadn't created this child. Pain and humiliation and anger had created it. No loving scenes of tenderness and happiness would make this agony worthwhile. Surely not all children were born into the world this way. Something more must exist or the human race would not continue.

A slamming door and loud voices warned more than Charlie waited below. She wondered what had happened to Josie's mother. She didn't know Mrs. Andrews very well. She didn't know how much of a help she might be. But Josie needed her right now.

Josie had given up on holding back her screams. She shrieked as another pain consumed her, and she sobbed when it passed. Dora looked up anxiously as the door opened. It was only Annie.

"Where is Mrs. Andrews?" she whispered so the woman in the bed wouldn't hear.

Annie shrugged. "The marster wouldn't call for her. Marster Pace done down there now. Maybe he'll go."

From the sound of rising voices, Dora doubted it. A crash of something breaking warned argument had deteriorated into fisticuffs. A third yell indicated the noise had brought Carlson out of his hideaway. She grimaced and returned to tending Josie through the next contraction.

When Josie lay panting and sweat-soaked again, Dora turned back to Annie. "Go down the back way and have one of the boys ride to the Andrewses. Surely one of them knows the way."

Annie looked uncertain, but the sound of a raging brawl below made her nod once. The men wouldn't have any idea what went on anytime soon. As she started to leave, Dora halted her.

"Wait a minute. Wipe Friend Josie's brow while I run across and look in on Friend Harriet. She'll be worrying."

Annie uttered the same disbelieving grunt that Charlie had earlier, but Dora ignored her. She didn't have much time. Leaving Annie with Josie, she darted across the hall. From out here, the brawl echoed louder. She distinctly heard Pace's voice shouting louder than the rest. She winced as another thud and crash followed. She hurriedly let herself into the darkened chamber and closed the door.

"Have they killed each other yet?" The weakened voice came from the direction of the bed and sounded almost hopeful.

"Josie is having her baby." Dora slipped to the bedside to check the pitcher of water and straighten the invalid's covers. "I must be with her for a few hours until her mother comes."

"Amy Andrews is a useless bitch," Harriet murmured. "Just give me some of my medicine and don't worry about me."

"I'd worry less about thee if thou didst not take so much medicine," Dora said, not for the first time nor the last.