Dunaway's Crossing (12 page)

Will frowned at Bea Dot as if she’d asked him to untie a Gordian knot. “Miss Bea
Dot, I doubt Ralph intended for you two to return to Pineview for the birth.”

“What?” Bea Dot asked.

Netta’s jaw dropped as her muscles tensed in alarm. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is”—Will raised his hands in defense—“I don’t think Ralph has thought that far ahead. No one expected influenza to be this serious.” He laid his palms on the table. “But I’ve given it some thought, and I think I have a solution.” He turned to Bea Dot. “I’ll need you to come with me for a while.” To Netta, he said, “I’ll have her back before you know it.”

Netta’s chin wrinkled as a lump clogged her throat. She willed her tears to stay put. How could this be happening? After all the trials she’d endured, how could she face having her first and likely only baby in the back room of a country store? Now was no time for risks. She must have Ralph’s help. As Will and Bea Dot rose from the table, they left Netta in the kitchen, still biting her lip to keep from crying.

Damn this influenza.

Sniffing and wiping an errant tear with her sleeve, Netta cleared the dishes and put away the ham and bread before escaping to the back porch, where she let the tears flow freely. She already knew Will’s plan, that Eliza Taylor could deliver the baby. Well, that wouldn’t do. Netta put her hands on her hips in silent determination. So what if Eliza had delivered all of her children at home? She hadn’t suffered three miscarriages. This baby should be born under Ralph’s care.

The back door opened, and Bea Dot emerged wearing a riding shirt and pants that hung loosely on her petite frame. She looked like a little girl playing dress up. Bea Dot smiled self-consciously as she tugged at her clothes. “They belonged to Will’s mother,” she said, pushing the shirt’s cuff off her knuckles and up to her wrist. She had rolled the pants up to shorten them. “I suppose he got his height from her.”

Netta turned her face away, almost sickened by Bea Dot’s silly smile. She knew her cousin had grown fond of Will, but now was hardly the time to act like a schoolgirl. The cousins stood side by side, gazing over the water. To the left of the porch, the laundry billowed in the breeze, the sheets and shirts snapping in the wind.

“I’ll bring that laundry in when I get back,” Bea Dot said quietly.

Netta stared at the water, refusing to respond to such a trivial remark. Who could think of laundry anymore? After a few seconds, Bea Dot spoke again.

“Netta, I can tell you’re nervous. I am too, but I think we must trust Will that we’ll be all right.”

“I suppose so, considering I have no choice in the matter.” Aggravation got the best of her. As dependable as Will was, some problems he couldn’t fix.

“I’m . . . I’m just as concerned as you are, but I doubt Will would put us in harm’s way.”

Exasperated, Netta turned sharply on Bea Dot, whose eyes widened in surprise. “We are already in harm’s way, dear cousin. We have been ever since this flu came to Pineview.” Her voice cracked as it escalated, and she raised her arms to each side as she spoke. “My husband is especially in harm’s way. So please do not speak to me as if I’m a child.”

“On the contrary, Netta, I am trying to look at this situation like a practical adult, which is far from what I see you doing.” Bea Dot’s stern voice also revealed an attempt to keep its volume in check. “Do you think I’m not scared of what might happen? If you give birth out here, guess who gets to deliver it?” She pointed her finger at her chest. “Me. I certainly do not relish the thought of that possibility.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to be in this predicament.” Netta held her palm to her chest, then leaned in closer, so close that she could see the flecks of gold in Bea Dot’s brown eyes. “I’ve lost three babies already.” She held up as many fingers. “Three. And now that this one’s survived this long, I shouldn’t bear it out here in the middle of nowhere while my husband’s tending other people’s wives and children.” She clinched her fists in frustration. “But there’s not one thing I can do about that.”

Bea Dot stiffened as she stepped back. She didn’t frown, but anger flashed in her eyes. Netta braced herself for Bea Dot’s petulant temper, but surprisingly, Bea Dot replied with cool reserve. “No, I don’t know what that’s like. But I’ll tell you what I do know.” Bea Dot pointed to Netta’s middle. “I know that your baby has done nothing but thrive and grow since you arrived here. And in spite of your good health, you’ve done nothing but worry about a possible disaster. If the worst thing that happens is you deliver a healthy child at Dunaway’s Crossing, then you have much to be thankful for. I’m sorry you lost three babies, Netta, but at least those babies weren’t beaten out of you the way mine was.”

That last remark slapped Netta with shame. She’d forgotten what little she knew about her cousin’s miscarriage.

“Will has to take me somewhere,” Bea Dot said calmly. “We won’t be long.”

“Bea Dot, wait,” Netta stammered. “I’m . . .”

But Bea Dot had already turned her back on Netta and gone inside.

C
hapter 13

B
ea Dot pushed the door closed a little too hard as she left Netta on the porch calling after her. Invoking Ben’s abuse had been a low blow, especially considering Bea Dot’s miscarriage had been a relief. But she’d had enough of Netta’s incessant worry. People were dying in town, and Netta could only think of herself. Sometimes one had to play the cards she was dealt. Bea Dot had learned that lesson the hard way.

What the cousins needed now was time apart. Bea Dot crossed the store and took a wool coat off a hook by the front door. She slipped it on before stepping outside, and it swallowed her whole. Clutching it close, she walked around the building and found Will in the barn strapping a bit between Buster’s teeth. The barn smelled of hay, and golden dust floated in the sun peeking through the barn’s wooden slats.

Still shaken from her argument, she watched Will silently as he tended his horse. Moments ago, she’d appreciated a chance for an outing, not only for the relief of tension and change of scenery, but for the change of company as well. She’d grown to like Will more than she had expected, and she’d anticipated enjoying some time alone with him. But now she wasn’t even curious about where she was going. She just wanted to go away, even for just a short while. She tugged at the waistband of her pants and wished they were a bit smaller.

When Will buckled the bridle, he turned to her. “Ready?”

“Where’s the saddle?”

“We can’t both fit in it,” Will said. “We’ll ride bareback.”

“But then how will I get on him?” She perused the barn for a box or stool to stand on.

Will lunged like a fencer while still holding Buster’s reins. “Grab his mane and step on my knee.”

Bea Dot hesitated at first, but then approached Will. Placing her little boot on his thigh, she flushed at the inappropriate intimacy with him, the same way she had when he lifted her at the Pineview depot. While she liked the feeling, she couldn’t help thinking Ben would have beaten her senseless over such a gesture. However, she quickly extinguished thoughts of her husband, refusing to mar her afternoon with unpleasant memories. She pushed herself off the ground, then swung her other leg over Buster’s back. The horse huffed a quick breath, as if she weighed a ton.

Will handed her the reins. Then, in one swift movement, he jumped and swung his long leg over Buster’s hind end, situating himself behind Bea Dot, who was surprised at how he made such a maneuver seem so easy. As he reached around her and took the reins, Bea Dot’s pulse quickened slightly, an automatic reaction reminiscent of earlier times in more hostile embraces. But again she shook off the trepidation, willing herself to focus on the present instead of the past. Will sucked his teeth, signaling Buster to walk, and the horse lumbered out of the barn, into the sunlight, and around the west side of the lake.

A crisp breeze whipped through the pine needles. Bea Dot breathed in the scent of mud and wet grass as they rode along the lakefront. The woodsy smell and the sun on her face helped lift the heaviness in her chest. Although she didn’t forget her spat with Netta, it seemed less severe than it had a short while before.

As she rode, Will’s breath tickled her ear and the back of her neck. Seated in front with his arms encircling her, she relaxed, once her gut reminded her that Will was different from other men in her life. Now comfortable with their closeness, she wondered if Will liked it. Once Buster carried them into the shade of the pine woods, the temperature dropped, but Will’s body warmed her back, and she wished she could face him. They rode along a few minutes before he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry Miss Netta’s angry with you.” His voice revealed his awkward regret. “It’s my fault.”

“Don’t be.” Bea Dot sighed. “We’re in an impossible situation. You have to do what you have to do.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry you heard our quarrel.” She reddened at the memory of her last words. Oh, if she could only take them back!

“Don’t worry. I made plenty of noise in the barn, so I didn’t hear what you said.”

Oh, please, please be telling the truth
, she prayed silently.

In a few minutes they had steered up a hill and approached a two-story clapboard house with a front porch. To the side, a garden grew greens and other fall vegetables. A boy of about fifteen chopped wood underneath a sweet gum tree in the yard. When he saw Bea Dot and Will approach, he ran in the front door.

A man and woman came to the porch and waved. Bea Dot recognized the man as the giant who visited the store the day before. Like the boy, he wore a pair of bib overalls and a worn plaid shirt. The woman, about Netta’s height but rounder, wore a plain blue dress that almost reached the floor. With her dark-blond hair pulled back into a tight bun, she resembled pictures of Bea Dot’s grandmother. But the old-fashioned dress and hairstyle couldn’t mask the woman’s pretty face. After dismounting and helping Bea Dot down, Will introduced Bea Dot to her neighbors.

“Bea Dot Ferguson, I’d like you to meet Thaddeus and Eliza Taylor.”

“We met the other day,” Thaddeus said with a toothy smile.

“Yes, and I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Taylor,” Bea Dot said before smoothing her hands down the front of her trousers. Suddenly, she remembered she was dressed in ill-fitting clothes and that her fingernails resembled a farmer’s rather than a lady’s. She hated to shake hands with these new acquaintances.

“Bea Dot is Netta Coolidge’s cousin visiting from Savannah,” Will said to Eliza. “She’s here to help Netta until the baby comes. They’re staying at the crossing now—because of the flu in town.”

“Oh, I see.” Eliza’s face brightened with understanding. “That’s a far cry from sleeping in town, ain’t it?” Her voice had the same twang as her husband’s.

“Yes, it is,” Bea Dot replied shyly.

“But smart,” Thaddeus added. “I hear the flu’s spreading like head lice.”

“Thaddeus!” Eliza reddened at her husband’s grotesque remark. She turned to Bea Dot. “How is Netta?”

“She’s doing fine,” Bea Dot replied, her modesty relaxing a bit.

“Now you can meet our baby boy,” Thaddeus reported proudly. “Eliza, why don’t you take Miss Ferguson inside to see him?”

Eliza took Bea Dot’s arm and led her up the front steps into a modest but comfortable home. The front door opened into the parlor, and a door in the back wall opened into the kitchen. A fireplace burned on the left wall just beside the stairs, and close to the hearth was a cradle. The boy Bea Dot had seen in the yard sat in a rocking chair next to it.

“This here’s Terrence,” Eliza said, gesturing to her older son. “Terrence, say hello to Miss Ferguson.”

Bea Dot ignored Eliza’s error, and the boy stood up, skinny and gangly. He shyly said hello and seemed not to know what to do with his hands.

“Terrence, I got a pot of water boiling. Go on in the kitchen and take it off for me.”

Terrence nodded and left the room. Eliza gestured to the rocking chair Terrence had just vacated. “Come sit here. I’ll get little Troy for you.”

“How many children do you have?” Bea Dot asked.

“Well, my oldest, Tommy, he’s working up in Macon. Then Terrence out there’s fifteen. My third boy, Ted, died of scarlet fever a couple of years ago, God bless him. And this”—Eliza cradled her baby in her arms and brought him to Bea Dot—“is Troy.” She placed the infant in Bea Dot’s arms.

Bea Dot tensed at first, having never held a baby. When Eliza beamed with pride, Bea Dot smiled awkwardly, hoping her expression looked genuine. She peered into the baby’s blue eyes. What should she say to someone who couldn’t understand or reply? Awkwardly, she muttered, “Hello, Troy.”

“I’ll go make us a pot of tea,” Eliza said before leaving the room.

Troy squirmed a bit at being moved from his cradle, and Bea Dot’s pulse quickened with nervousness.
Please don’t cry
, she prayed. She rocked her chair and shook her elbow gently to soothe him. Troy relaxed, and she did with him.

“Oh, you’re a natural.” Eliza returned with a tray holding a teapot and two cups. “You’re gone be a good helper to Netta when her baby comes.”

“I haven’t been around babies very much.” Bea Dot spoke apologetically, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off Troy, who yawned before settling into the crook of her arm. He was a cute little thing.

“Oh, babies are easy,” Eliza said. “They don’t take no special training to take care of.”

“Maybe not,” Bea Dot replied tentatively. She tucked her finger under the fat of Troy’s chin, and he squirmed again, like a snail prodded with a stick. He balled his fist when he moved, and she couldn’t help being drawn in by him. If her own baby had lived, would she have been attached to it at all? She turned her face up to Eliza. “But what about bringing them into this world? I admit, Mrs. Taylor—”

“Please, call me Eliza.”

“Eliza. I must admit I’m afraid Netta’s baby will come while we’re still at the crossing. Ralph won’t allow us to come back to town because of influenza.”

“I don’t blame him.” Eliza tilted her head and pressed her lips.

“But what if Netta goes into labor? What will we do?”

“Babies will come. They don’t care if we’re ready,” Eliza said. She had set the teapot on the hutch and was pouring two cups. “When I had Tommy, I dreamed up all kinds of problems to fret over, all for naught. All my babies come into the world just fine.” Eliza brought a cup of tea for Bea Dot, and she placed it on the table next to the rocking chair. “And being in town wouldn’t have made no difference. If I’d a had a doctor, he would of just sat there and told me to push. I figured that out all on my own.”

“You mean you delivered your children by yourself? Ralph didn’t do it?”

Eliza laughed. “Honey, Ralph ain’t been in town but a few years. Before that, Pineview didn’t have no doctor. We ain’t had a choice with our first three boys, and by the time Troy come along, well, Thaddeus and I was old hands at bringing children.”

Bea Dot tried to laugh along with Eliza, but all she could muster was a nervous chuckle. Eliza made the task seem so simple. “And all you do is sit there and say ‘push’?”

“Oh, well.” Eliza dismissively flapped her hand in front of her. “You’ll want to have lots of hot water ready and plenty of rags. But they’s mostly for cleaning up the baby afterward. If you think about it, Netta’s the one gone be doing all the work.”

“I suppose . . .” Bea Dot still wasn’t so sure.

“Listen, you got any questions, you just call on me,” Eliza said. “I’m happy to help.”

Eliza’s offer would have satisfied Bea Dot if she’d known what questions to ask. She wished Eliza had an instruction manual.

Eliza pulled an armchair from the other side of the room and placed it next to Bea Dot’s. “I’m glad Will brought you with him today,” she said, changing the subject. “It’s good to see him take an interest in the ladies again.”

“Oh, no.” Bea Dot blushed. “Will and I aren’t . . . courting. I think he brought me here specifically to meet you and Troy.”

The baby awakened and uttered a tiny yap. Bea Dot rocked again and cooed at him. His blue eyes fixed on the light of the fire. Maybe babies weren’t as tricky as she’d thought. This one seemed easy enough.

Eliza smiled and nodded as if she didn’t quite believe Bea Dot. “Well, I ain’t seen that look on his face in a long time, not since he come home from France.”

“Oh,” Bea Dot said awkwardly, turning her eyes from Troy to Eliza. “I didn’t realize. He hasn’t said much about his experience over there.”

“The only good thing about it was it was so short.” Eliza leaned forward emphatically in her chair. “He wasn’t in battle but one day.”

Bea Dot nodded. “Netta told me he was injured.”

“Yes, but I think if he had his druthers, he’d a been shot through the heart than get hurt the way he did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mmm.” Eliza took a sip of tea. “Of course he ain’t told you about it. It takes him a while to open up. You see, he got hurt taking other wounded soldiers out of the line of fire.”

Bea Dot’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of Will in death’s way. “What happened?”

“He was at Belleau Wood, and he was driving the ambulance from the front line to a bombed-out farmhouse they was using as a medical shelter. Will lost control of the ambulance.”

“Oh, heavens!” Bea Dot gasped.

“I don’t know all the details, but he punctured his side and broke his arm real bad. The soldiers in the ambulance died.”

Bea Dot covered her mouth with her hand, imagining Will’s devastation from the accident. And he’d never said a word. Her heart ached in sympathy, knowing the pain of keeping horrible memories locked away.

Eliza nodded. “And you see all the work he does for us country folk. He don’t have to deliver mail or keep a phone at the crossing, but he does. He ain’t told me outright, but I think he wants to make up for what happened to them soldiers.”

“But he didn’t kill them. It was an accident.”

“You know that, and I know that, but Will ain’t never been able to forgive himself.” Eliza shook her head in pity.

“Eliza, I won’t mention our conversation to Will.” Bea Dot’s heart ached for him. “I’m sure he’ll divulge this information if he ever wants to. But I thank you for telling me this story. It helps me to understand him more.”