[Troublesome Creek 01] - Troublesome Creek (43 page)

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Authors: Jan Watson

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“Not just yet,” he said, his voice as raspy as an old saw. “Maybe just a drink.”
She laid the rag beside her book on the little table they’d put by the bed and poured water into his glass. He drank it half down and handed it back to her. His eyes closed as he lay back against the pillow. “Thank you,” he whispered.
She put the glass on the table, and then her heart skidded in her chest. The rag—the white rag she’d held to his mouth—was red. Bloodred. “Daddy, there’s blood on this rag!”
He opened his eyes and grabbed her hand. “Our secret, Daughter.” He looked at her, a level gaze of love and trust. “Don’t tell your mam.”
“How long?” Copper demanded. “How long has this been going on?”
“Since the spring, I recollect—but it doesn’t mean anything, Copper. I’ll get past this.” His eyes drooped. He turned on his side, away from her, toward the heat. “I feel better.” His voice was a ragged sigh. “I’ll sleep now.”
CHAPTER 29
 
The slow gray days of January continued, one day the same as the next—just cold and wind. But at least the rain had stopped. The house was dry, and the laundry no longer hung for days sucking up the heat. They washed only what was absolutely necessary and wore the same clothes until Mam couldn’t stand it anymore and made everybody change.
Daddy was better. He was working again, but he’d fallen off so much that his overalls hung on his thin frame like a scarecrow picked clean of its stuffing.
One Saturday morning after breakfast he took down his gun. “I can’t stand one more supper of pork,” he declared. “I aim to get some squirrel. Doesn’t that sound fine?”
Mam fussed, but he would not be deterred. He and Willy and Daniel set off around ten promising to be back by noon.
“Mam,” Copper said as soon as they were out the door, “I’m going to take a bath. Will you wash my hair?”
“You’ll catch your death.” Mam sounded worried. “I’ll put some extra coal on the fire and get it nice and warm in here before I start, but I have to bathe. I can’t stand myself any longer.”
Copper carried the washtub in from the porch, set it in front of the fire, and filled it halfway with hot water. Full would have been nice, but the water was too hard to heat. Mam turned her back as Copper shed her clothes and climbed into the tub.
Mmm,
her whole body seemed to sigh with delight as she sank into the tub.
Mam poured warm water over her head before soaping her hair with a wonderful-smelling castile soap. “This smells like summertime. Like roses and sunshine,” Copper said, closing her eyes as Mam rinsed her hair. “This is glorious. Thank you, Mam. Would you like for me to wash your hair?”
“No, I don’t want to take a chill like your father did. That’s all it was, don’t you think, Laura Grace—just a chill?”
Copper was in a quandary. She couldn’t lie, but then she wasn’t a doctor with all the answers. “I hope so, Mam,” she answered. Stepping out of the bath, she folded herself in a warm blanket, then sat on the hearth and let Mam comb the tangles from her hair. “I hope that’s all it was.”
 
Daddy had indeed brought home squirrel for supper. Copper’s belly growled as she hurried Molly with the milking, fancying she could smell the meat Mam was frying. If she didn’t get to the house soon, Mam would use the crisp brown skillet scrapings to make cream gravy and she’d miss her chance at the pot liquor. It would be so good sopped up with a piece of bread.
Molly shifted her bulky body and nearly toppled Copper off her stool. “Easy, girl,” Copper soothed. She leaned her head against the cow’s warm side and slowed her hands.
Swish, swish, swish,
the milk flowed. Molly relaxed. Her gentle snores filled the stall, mesmerizing.
Finally Copper was finished. She’d just reached beneath herself for the milk stool when suddenly she felt a hand upon her shoulder. “Remy? You’ve come back . . .” She whirled around, the little stool wobbling beneath her, and saw him. Her heart soared. She must be dreaming. “Oh, Simon. Is it really you?”
He pulled her up into an embrace. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely into her ear. “I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t bear it any longer.”
Until that moment she’d thought she might be able to live without him. “I’m glad. I’m so very glad you’re here.”
“Are you?” he asked. “I was afraid your feelings toward me had changed. It seemed I’d only imagined our time together.”
The light was failing in the barn. It would soon be dark, but she felt a radiance from within that was surely as bright as a cloudless June day. She pressed her cheek, warm from Molly’s heat, against Simon’s cold stubbly face.
His hand rasped across his jaw. “I need a shave,” he apologized, “but I rode straight through. I took loan of a horse from the livery and traded him out halfway here. I was too anxious to stay overnight at a wayside inn.”
She put her hands on either side of his face. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Believe it,” he replied. “I’m here and I want this—” He kissed her, a kiss so filled with longing that she had to hold to his arms to keep from swooning. “And I want an answer to my question.”
“Ask,” she said, her mind finally sure of her answer.
“Boy howdy!” Willy called from the barn door. “We saw a strange horse. That be yours, Doc?”
They took no more notice of Willy’s voice than they did of the waning light or the dirty barn floor as Simon sank to one knee. He took Copper’s hand in his own, kissed her palm, and asked with great sincerity, “Laura Grace Brown, will you marry me and love me and live with me for the rest of your life?”
“Do you want me to put your horse up, Doc?” Willy persisted, unnoticed still.
Copper looked down. She could barely see the man who sought her pledge. The only light around them was what spilled in from outside where Willy stood in the open door.
“Hey!” Willy barged along. “Can you stay for supper, Doc? Mam’s made squirrel and gravy.”
After a silent prayer for guidance, she gave him the answer he’d traveled miles and miles to receive. “Yes, Dr. Corbett, I’ll marry you and love you and live with you for the rest of our lives together.”
“Whoopee!” Willy danced a jig. “Sissy’s getting married!” His voice faded as he ran toward the house. “Daddy! Get the fire-crackers. Sissy’s getting married.”
Simon stood and swept her off her feet. He twirled her around and around, then set her down and threw back his head and laughed a great joyous laugh. “Thank You, Lord!” he praised. “I’m the happiest man alive.”
The whole family awaited Copper and Simon on the porch. A pool of warm yellow lamplight lay on the plank floor just outside the kitchen window, and the fireplace glinted a welcome through the open door.
“Come on up here, boy.” Daddy pumped Simon’s hand. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Watch out!” Willy lobbed fireworks high overhead.
Bang! Bang! Bangbangbangbang!
came the retort.
“I like ’em tied together. Don’t you, Daniel?”
Mam embraced Copper, and she could feel tears upon her mother’s face. “Mam, don’t cry.”
“Tears of joy, Daughter, just tears of joy.”
 
After supper, they lingered at the table and talked of the future. Simon wanted to marry at once. He wanted to take Copper back to Lexington with him.
“She’ll not marry at sixteen, Dr. Corbett,” Mam replied.
“Then March,” he acquiesced. “We’ll marry on her birth date, or I’m afraid we’ll have to elope.”
“Antelope?” Willy interrupted. “We don’t have no antelopes in these parts. Do we, Daddy? Just a bunch of buffalos way over yonder near where we go sledding.”
“June,” Mam settled the matter, “and not one day sooner.”
 
Simon decided to stay over for a few days. He bunked with Daniel. Daddy slept with Willy in Copper’s bed, and Copper slept with Mam. What little she slept. Simon was only a room away, just across the front room. The bedroom doors they kept closed all day were open for the night to let in some heat from the banked fireplace, and she fancied she could tell his snores from her father’s.
She desperately wanted to get out of bed and see if there was enough hot water left in the kettle for a cup of tea, but she didn’t want to disturb anyone. And what if Simon got up? He couldn’t see her in her nightdress, even if he was a doctor.
Earlier as they prepared for bed Mam had said she needed to have a little talk with Copper. She spoke of what marriage meant, all the changes that would occur, and how Copper couldn’t be selfish because she would now be responsible for the happiness of someone else. Simon would always come first, she’d said, and Copper must always obey him. She talked about modesty and reverence and something from the Bible called “cleaving.” And at the end, after she’d turned down the wick on the coal-oil lamp and the flame had sputtered and gone out, she patted Copper’s hand and said, “He will want to sleep with you, Daughter. It won’t be so bad. You must do your Christian duty.”
Copper mulled that over as she lay in bed. Why was Mam so mysterious and so serious? Why was sharing a bed a duty? After all, she hadn’t slept a night alone since the boys were born. Would a grown man take up much more space than two wiggling brothers? As long as Simon didn’t hog the covers, she didn’t think she’d mind sleeping with him.
Copper tiptoed to the window and drew back the curtain. The moon was high and full—just one wispy cloud scuttled across its surface. The round-faced man in the moon looked down on her, and she imagined she saw a wink.
She bowed her head and wished she could ask her heavenly Father all the questions that churned in her mind:
What is it like in the city? What will become of Molly and Paw-paw? Will my family be all right without me? What does
cleave
mean? Mam made it sound a little sinister . . . cleave
.
Instead, she prayed for what she knew she would receive: the grace to endure whatever lay before her.
 
The day before Simon was to leave, he and Copper walked along Troublesome Creek. It was frozen over, a dusting of grainy snow swirling on its glassy surface. Huge pines and cedars sighed their lonesome songs as the wind swept through their thick branches.
She asked him some of her questions, all except the sleeping and the cleaving—she couldn’t quite get that out—and he did his best to reassure her. He described the home they would be sharing, and Copper liked the sound of the big porch out front and the gardens and stable out back, with a stall for Molly if she wanted to take her. Of course she did! Simon said he would send someone for the animal, but she wouldn’t need to milk the cow herself—he had a man for that. Copper didn’t argue, but she knew in her heart that no one would be milking her cow but her.
It was good to hear of her future home and know that Simon would do everything in his power to make her comfortable there, but one thing still burdened her heart. Gathering up all her courage, unsure that she wanted to hear what he would say, she told Simon about her daddy and the terrible red rag.
“I know,” he said. “Your father told me.”
She turned to him, her cheeks numb from the chill. “What does it mean, Simon? I’m so afraid for him.”
Simon took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Laura Grace, but the cough, the blood, the shortness of breath . . . his weight loss. It’s consumption, you know.”

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