EIGHT
KARLEE STAYED WITH AMYANN UNTIL HER NEIGHBORS came to take the new mother home. The women might have been afraid to come to the cemetery during the funeral, but they promised to stay with AmyAnn and the baby until she was able to get around by herself.
To Karlee's surprise they all took turns hugging her as if she were a long time member of their circle. Several promised to come by and visit. She'd never felt so welcomed in her life.
Karlee hugged the new mother and kissed the baby, then walked home alone in the late afternoon sun. She'd stuffed the derringer in the pocket of her skirt. “Forget about it,” she told herself, but the thumping of metal against her leg kept reminding her that she carried a weapon.
All the day's stress pressed over her body, tiring muscles and making her step heavy. Blood and dirt splattered the front of her dress. Her hair ribbon had disappeared. She knew she looked a fright, but she'd never felt so satisfied.
She'd done something right! All day, as AmyAnn slept in the grass and Karlee cradled the baby, she'd felt a pride in herself unlike she'd ever known. The doctor left them in her care, trusting her to do what was right. He'd ordered Karlee not to move the little widow until he finished his rounds and came back to make sure she was strong enough to travel.
When he returned, he told Karlee that if she ever needed a position as a nurse, she had one with him.
Karlee opened the kitchen door, thinking how odd life was. A week ago she had no way of supporting herself, and today she'd been offered her second job. Maybe when Daniel didn't need her to watch the twins any longer, she could visit with the doctor. She was sure nurses didn't make much, but she didn't need much. She could rent a room and live alone.
“About time you got home, Cousin,” Wolf boomed in welcome. “I'm worn out playing with these two. Danny left an hour ago, saying he'd be back before dark. I don't think I'll stay alive if I don't get some relief.”
Karlee looked past Wolf to the kitchen. Forty field hands could have done no more damage. Pots and pans were everywhere on the floor. Dirty dishes filled the sink.
“Wish I could stay and help you clean up.” Wolf stood slowly and moved toward the door as she walked around the room. “But I got to go. A bar fight looks down right restful at this point.”
He broke into a run as if he feared she might catch him and make him help. Karlee laughed at the sight of such a cowardly uncle. The twins joined her by dancing around and giggling.
“What have you two and Uncle Wolf been doing?” Karlee brushed their hair with her hand.
One of the girls proudly showed off a paper chain necklace. “We made paper chains. Uncle Wolf didn't know how to make the paste, so he tried lots of ways.”
“And he made us jelly sandwiches with eggs inside,” the other twin added. “And we drank coffee with cream from the tea cups. And he said we didn't have to take a nap, just because.”
The first twin nodded.
They didn't need to list their activities for the day, Karlee could read it on their clothes. Jelly, flour, dried paste, coffee stains.
“Well, I've got one last treat for you.” Karlee reached for the tub leaning in the corner.
Ten minutes later, she had both twins playing in a bath of warm water while she washed the dishes a few feet away at the sink.
By the time she toweled them off, their skin was all wrinkly, and they were too sleepy to dress themselves. She gave each a cup of buttermilk with cornbread pieces crumbled up in it.
They ate their supper, then didn't complain as she carried them up to bed. Karlee was a little surprised when both hugged and kissed her cheek goodnight. Somehow the sleepy little hugs and the buttermilk kisses made it all worthwhile.
Karlee crossed to her bedroom and changed into Rosy's huge hand-me-down nightgown. She placed the tiny derringer the doctor gave her in the top of the chest of drawers, knowing there was no way the twins could find or reach the weapon. It would probably be better to unload the thing, but Karlee wasn't sure she knew how. Tomorrow, she'd return it.
The house was in shadows when she went back downstairs. Instead of going to the kitchen, she walked across the entry hall and out the front door, needing the cool night air. When she was a child she used to pretend the wind was her mother's fingers brushing her hair at night.
The long porch on the front of the house had been built with thin slats from the railing to the roof. The slats let air onto the porch but blocked most of the view of anyone passing. In the twilight, the area shone like a dream come to life, with slivers of silver slicing across the night every few inches. At this hour, anyone on the porch could never be fully in darkness, or in day.
Karlee closed her eyes, enjoying the cool breeze and the sounds of evening. Far away crickets and frogs whispered to one another. Somewhere out of sight, horses shuffled and whinnied. She could almost hear the sound of dishes clanking against tables and children being called to supper. A hundred sounds blended together until none were known but all seemed familiar.
A movement in the darkness of the porch startled her. She froze, wishing she'd slipped the derringer into the pocket of her robe.
“Who's there?” She inched toward the door and safety.
“Don't be frightened.” Daniel's voice drifted across the night.
Karlee straightened, angry at herself for panicking at the first sound. “I wasn't. I was only alarmed. I thought the porch empty.”
“I didn't mean to startle you.”
Something sounded different in his voice, a sadness, a longing, a sorrow too great to speak. He could be no more than ten feet from her, but his words echoed as though they crossed ages of time and space.
She moved toward him, unsure of what to do to help. He was a man who wore his sorrow silently without expecting condolence, but the very air around him was humid with unshed tears. She guessed if she tried to penetrate his invisible barriers with sympathy, he'd block her efforts and resent her attempt to trespass into his private hell.
An empty whiskey bottle toppled at her foot and rolled lazily toward the steps.
“You've been drinking,” she said the obvious.
“Not enough,” he answered.
“I never thought you'd be a drinking man.” She could only be honest, for no lies would fit between them in this perfect time separating day and night.
“I'm not.” He slipped into the deeper shadows near the house, covering his mood as effectively as he concealed his body. “Maybe I would be if it helped, but it doesn't. How's Jesse's wife?”
“She's fine. The doctor made her rest in the cemetery for a while. With the blanket walls as shade, it wasn't so bad.”
“And the boy?”
“He's wonderful. AmyAnn wants me to bring the twins and come out to see her in a week or so. If you have no objection.”
He didn't answer.
Karlee moved closer. “I kind of lied about my experience with birthing. In truth, I have been near several times. But all I did was fetch water and carry out soiled linens to wash. I lived with a cousin of my father's once who was a midwife. She'd wake me up to go and tote for her.”
She could feel him watching her in the half-light, but he didn't speak.
“It was hard some days. I'd be up with her all night, and her husband would still expect me to work a full day come dawn. He always said I was lazy. Once when he caught me asleep in the field, he refused to let anyone feed me for two days.”
“Why didn't you run away?” Daniel sounded as if he didn't quite believe her story.
“I couldn't have been more than eight. I'm not sure. My folks drowned when I was six. There were no birthdays after that. Aunt Rosy figures my age by the number of years since my parents died plus six. Since they died in the fall, I turn a year older just as it starts to get cold.”
