Bound by Blood and Brimstone (41 page)

Only one conclusion made any sense. God had intervened. Having given the Almighty

little thought since Daddy’s death, even to the point of screaming my blasphemy into His face, I

offered my sincere thanks to Him for letting my sister live. When I confessed this revelation to

Wonnie as we drooped at the foot of Lorrie Beth’s bed, her black eyes sparkled with amusement.

“You are surprised at this? Of course He was here. He is always near when new life

comes. Just as when life ends. Why not, since He created it?” Wagging a knobby finger in my

face, she grinned. “And here, all along, I was thinking how smart you are.”

Despite the miracle Lorrie Beth had endured, Wonnie’s prognosis was grim. She

predicted a prolonged and difficult recovery for my sister. Blood loss had been massive, and the

trauma of unnatural birth had left a path of destruction. Lorrie Beth would, thereafter, be plagued

with excruciating lower back pain, and her limp would worsen. She’d never be physically strong

enough to run, jump, or swim with her little boy, who sadly, would be an only child.

“There can never be another one,” Wonnie advised, shaking her head, her eyes shadowed

in sorrow. “She is barren now.”

Grief-stricken beyond words at this bleak glimpse into my sister’s future, I resolved then

and there that I would remove her from Silver Rock Creek if it was the last thing I ever did.

Stripped of a carefree childhood by the hands of Sue Lee Jacobs, she’d been shunned and

forgotten by the two people who should’ve been bent on loving and protecting her.

Instead, they’d thrown her to the wolves, their chief concern being the backlash that

might result from the discovery of sin in our midst. The night Joshua Roberts was ushered onto

life’s stage marked the birth of something else: loathing for my own mother.

I vowed the day would come when she would feel the anguish of regret for what she’d

wrought in the lives of her own flesh and blood. A burgeoning plan was hatched in my mind as I

held Joshua for his first bottle. Somehow, I would leave Silver Rock Creek forever, and I’d take

my sister and brother with me.

Wonnie stayed on for a few weeks, sleeping on a pallet at the foot my bed, a quick and

able help to me as I waded through the strain of nursing Lorrie Beth back to a semblance of

health. To Wonnie’s credit, she never asked Reese’s permission to stay. There was no need.

While Momma shuffled through her chores in a daze, barely giving us the time of day, Reese

avoided Wonnie with the commitment of a war-hardened soldier on the front lines.

He busied himself in the logwoods and in his growing fields, ever vigilant at preventing

one of his crew from straying too close to the house. After all, the unexpected sounds of a crying

baby might induce questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. More often, he spent hours behind

the closed door of his bedroom with his Bible and sermon notes, the groans of his prayers loud

enough to raise Wonnie’s brows.

Meanwhile, Lorrie Beth languished, meek and obedient, but unresponsive to the tiny,

wriggling body I thrust upon her with every opportunity. Remembering the fire of adoration I’d

experienced the minute I’d laid eyes on Sam, I worried such a bond might never take hold

between Joshua and his mother. Mistakenly, I’d believed this baby would be her lifeline, a link

to Noah, and a balm to the hurts she’d suffered.

Instead, my sister, compassionate to a fault, surrogate mother to any stray, avoided the

slightest display of affection toward her own son.

One evening, shortly after Wonnie had left, frustrated and strained to my breaking point,

I lashed out.

“I don’t understand you!” I yelled. “You hold him like you’re some kind of robot. I’ve

never once seen you cuddle him or stroke him or even smile at him.”

I lowered my voice and sat on the edge of the bed to meet her eyes, desperately seeking a

hint of comprehension. “Lorrie Beth, he’s not a toy you can just toss aside when you’re tired of

him. He’s a living, breathing human being, and without love, he could die.”

She blinked once and glanced down at the sleeping baby near the pillow, where she’d laid

him minutes after I’d changed his diaper. “I know all that, Ember Mae. I’m not stupid, you

know.” She kept her eyes downcast while her fingers plucked at the sheets around her, her voice

small and hollow. “You need to find something else to worry yourself with. I’m doing the best I

can.”

I took in her fragile frame and the dark smudges under her eyes, and was moved to tears.

“How can you tell me not to worry?” I begged. “Just look at you. Weak as a kitten, not eating

enough, not caring about anything anymore. Look, Lorrie Beth, I know you’re probably worried

about getting attached to the baby, since they’ve told you he has to be given up for adoption.” I

reached to cover her restless hand with my own, leaning farther into her face. “That doesn’t have

to mean you can’t bond with him now. Who knows? Maybe you won’t have to give him up after

all? Maybe they’ll change their minds.”

My only thought had been to encourage her, to give her the motivation to seek a purpose

again. Instead of the smile I expected, she looked at me with naked fear.

“I--don’t think I can do that,” she stammered, shaking her head. I can’t feel the way I’m

supposed to feel. I can hardly feel anything anymore. What kind of life will Joshua have with me

anyway? Wouldn’t it be best for him to be with somebody who can give him all the things he

deserves?”

The undertone of hopelessness in her voice slithered under my defenses, infecting me,

and I had to quash it before I started to drown. “That’s a load of crap, and you know it,” I

declared. “You’ve got to find a reason to fight for him, Sis.”

Dropping her hand, I gritted my teeth and grabbed her thin arm to pull her closer. “You

can’t let Sue Lee take any more from you, you hear? Put her behind you once and for all. Think

of Noah. How would he feel about you just turning a blind eye to his son? He loved you enough

to face down Momma, Reese, and Caleb Jacobs. Are you going to betray him now?”

She recoiled, whipped her head around, and swung her legs to the other side of the bed to

stand. She wavered slightly on her feet and sighed. Her expression and tone had grown lifeless.

“Sue Lee and Caleb are dead. Noah’s dead. Sometimes I wish I was, too.”

I studied her, trying to gauge whether or not this was just idle talk. Deep depression could

often follow childbirth, I knew. Lorrie Beth had never broken down and had a good cry since

Noah’s death, but I wasn’t blind enough to believe she wasn’t grieving, even now. Having him

ripped out of her life so violently, deprived of the finality of his funeral, she must’ve been in

some sort of no man’s land of mourning. Still, I saw that as no excuse to be a quitter.

“Oh, cry me a river!” I snapped, throwing up my hands. “That’s just perfect, isn’t it? So

easy to just lie down and give up. A coward, that’s what you are, a whiney, spineless coward.

Well, let me tell you something, ‘Miss I Wish I was Dead.’ You don’t have the luxury of giving

up! You have someone to think of beside yourself, and you’d best be remembering that. School’s

starting back in a couple of weeks, and I’m not going to be around to take care of Joshua. Will

you just stay in that bed and let him die with you?”

I knew I’d hurt her, and though it would’ve been easy to apologize, I couldn’t bring

myself to do it. I could only pray that somehow I’d gotten through. Her silent rebukes pained me,

her studied refusal to acknowledge my presence cut deep, but the payback was worth it.

Lorrie Beth had rarely backed down from a challenge, and this time was no exception.

She emerged from her bed, bore the searing back pain with little more than a grimace, and

tended to her baby alone.

Deftly, she diapered him, mixed formula, fed him, and laundered his clothes. No baby

was cleaner or smelled sweeter. Still, he was starved for the most important food of all. Lorrie

Beth cared for him mechanically, never holding him longer than necessary to complete the task

at hand. There was no snuggling, no rocking, no kissing the top of his head nor rubbing his tiny

back while he slept. Never once did I see her look into his face.

Often, I was made to wonder what she would’ve done if he’d been colicky or fussy.

Would she have walked the floor, holding him close to her heart into the wee hours, as mothers

have done through the ages? Would she have just turned over in bed to burrow her head under

the pillow? I never found out. Joshua was the quietest baby I’d ever seen.

The weekend before school started, Reese called a family meeting. His haggard face was

stern as he peered over his new reading glasses at Lorrie Beth and me where we sat across from

him and Momma at the kitchen table. Momma’s brow puckered with worry lines, her eyes

skittering back and forth between Reese’s face and ours. Sensing this wouldn’t turn out well, I

braced myself and gave Lorrie Beth’s hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.

“We can’t put this off any longer,” Reese began, clearing his throat. “We have to make

some decisions about the baby.” A brief, strained silence ensued, in which I hoped Lorrie Beth

would speak up. She didn’t. I suspected any decisions made wouldn’t involve “we” at all.

“I hope you’ve been smart enough not to allow yourself to get too attached,” he

continued, looking at Lorrie Beth. “You’ve known all along this baby would be leaving. That

was the plan from the start.” If he was expecting some outburst of protest from my sister, he was

about to be disappointed. She just sat there, glassy-eyed and silent.

“I’d found a couple near Huntington,” he explained. “A young, well-to-do couple. But

that’s fallen through now.” His mouth twisted in a pucker of distaste. The baby’s face, well not

many people are going to want to have to deal with that. That big splotch on his face makes him

look deformed.” He released a huge sigh, as if dealing with this problem had exhausted him.

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” I cut in, unable to hold my tongue. “It’s just a

birthmark, not a deformity. He could outgrow it. And you keep referring to him as ‘the baby.’ He

has a name, you know.”

Momma’s lips tightened at the corners, her blue eyes flashing me a warning.

“There’s no need to use that tone, Ember Mae,” Reese interjected coolly. “We’re all

aware that the baby has a name. What I’m trying to get Lorrie Beth to understand is that it’s not

going to be easy to adopt him out with such a noticeable flaw.”

In two shakes he’d gotten my back up, and impulsively I tossed an idea I’d been mulling

over for days. “If you don’t think you can pull this off, why not just raise him yourselves?” I

forged onward, raising my voice to drown out the objections certain to follow.

“I know we can afford it now, Momma. You’re always saying we’re better off than most

folks around here, with the money Reese has been bringing in from timber. You could watch the

baby ‘till we get home from school, and I could help Lorrie Beth in the evenings. After we

graduate, maybe we can get jobs somewhere and move out together. We can finish raising

Joshua ourselves.”

When my babbling ceased long enough for me to catch my breath, I could see my jury

wasn’t having it. Crimson-faced, Reese had removed his glasses to goggle at me, while Momma

looked like she’d just lifted the lid off a pot and found a skunk cooking.

“You’re out of your mind,” she said, shaking her head hard enough to jiggle her bun. “If

you think I’m going clean up your sister’s mess, you’re sadly mistaken, Ember Mae. This is one

bed she’s going to have to lie in alone, because I will
not
tie myself to another baby.”

Stubbornly, I met her eyes without flinching. “Another baby? When did you tie yourself

to
any
baby, Momma? I’ve pretty much raised Sam alone.”

Her jaw flopped open and snapped shut before she found her voice again. I knew I was

treading dangerous ground, but I didn’t care.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” she said, her eyes flashing. “I’m still your mother,

and you
will
respect me, or so help me, I’ll let Reese’s belt talk some sense into you.”

“That’s enough,” Reese cut in, pushing his chair back and laying a heavy hand on

Momma’s shoulder. “Let’s everybody just calm down a minute.”

“Can we just stop the squawking and cut to the chase?” Lorrie Beth cried. Until that

point, she’d remained invisible, watching her fate being plotted and wrestled over. Now she

stepped in like an unwilling specter, chilly resignation in her voice. “What’s your plan, Reese?

Obviously, you called this meeting for a reason. What’ve you decided to do with me?”

His plan, he told us, was the only way for the family to survive this fiasco. Lorrie Beth

would stay home and care for Joshua while I returned to school. The accepted story would be

that she’d moved in with Momma’s cousin to help care for an invalid sister.