Where the Wild Rose Blooms (36 page)

Morgan set the letter down and saw that his hand was shaking. He put his hand on Addy's shoulders and cringed at the feel of her bones protruding under her flesh. How long since he'd last touched her?

"Come on, Addy," he spoke softly as he tried to lift her. She was like a boneless cat.

"I'm coming, Jackie," she mumbled incoherently.

"Come to bed, honey."

Morgan now lifted her and laid her on the bed. He removed her dress but left her in her shift. He divested her of shoes and stockings and then pulled the covers over her. She slept through it all. Morgan undressed himself and joined her, his head going down heavily on his own pillow. He didn't roll close to Addy, but lay very still. He had been so tired when he'd climbed the stairs, but now he felt wide awake. He saw the words on the letter again, and something terrible squeezed around his heart.

Robert and Eddie received Addy's letter on February 17. Eddie was inconsolable for long minutes to follow. Indeed, Robert had been forced to read it to her, and he cried as well. They had certainly known about Jackie's blindness and been in touch often, but never had Addy unburdened as she'd done this time.

Robert waited until Eddie had calmed a little and then told her what was on his heart concerning Jackie's spiritual status. When he was finished she cried yet again, but Robert was patient, his own throat feeling rather right.

"I have to do something, Robert," Eddie sobbed, her face still streaked with tears. "I can't play God, Robert, but there must be something. Please tell me what to do."

Robert smoothed her hair and used his own handkerchief on her face. "I have an idea, Eddie, but I don't know what you'll say. As with your mother, the burden would fall mainly on you."

Eddie looked at him. "Tell me, Robert," she whispered. "Whatever it is, tell me."

Robert's voice was even and well modulated as he told Eddie what was in his heart, but it was not easy. Eddie cried some more, but in the end she put her arms around him and held him tight. A plan—they had a plan—and that was better than aimlessly waiting. With that in mind she could wait for the spring.

"Write it, Lexa," Jackie ordered her miserable sister. "Write it now. "

"Why, Jackie, why me?"

"Because your handwriting is the most like mine. Now, write what I tell you."

"But what about all of his letters? Don't you at least want to hear what he has to say?"

"Tell me, Lexa," Jackie said, her voice biting, low and furious. "Will you marry a blind man someday? Wouldn't
it be exciting to marry a man who could never see you? You could guide him around like a stumbling child for the rest of your life. Now wouldn't that be fun?"

Lexa was openly sobbing now, but Jackie's heart hardened to the sound.

"Write, Lexa."

Still sniffing, Lexa adjusted the paper. Jackie heard the rustle and began.

"Cla "y.

"Just 'Clay,' not 'Dear Clay'?"

"Clay!" Jackie spoke firmly. The younger girl tried to keep her hand from shaking.
Why,
she begged silently,
is this my Sunday to sit with Jackie?

"Okay, what now?" she managed.

"I have met someone else," Jackie recited in a cold voice, "and fallen in love." She waited a moment, listening to the pen. "I never wish to see or hear from you again. Jackie."

"Oh, Jackie," Lexa began.

"Write it!"

Lexa was dying inside. She didn't know when she had been so upset. The whole house had been turned upside down last year, and they'd all walked around in a stupor until just a few weeks ago when their father got them all involved in Jackie's care. It wasn't that they hadn't tried before, but Jackie never wanted it. Now, in order to ease Addy's load, Father had them all on a schedule that included himself.

At first Jackie fought it, but the first time he'd stayed with Jackie himself and went so far as to take Addy from
the
house was a breakthrough. Jackie was out of control at the beginning, but now they'd developed a bit of a pattern. Today was Sunday. The rest of the family was at church, and Lexa had been put in charge. Not only was she to keep an eye on Jackie, she was to start lunch. Until this new schedule had begun, none of them had realized the stress their mother had been under.

"Don't forget to date it," Jackie added, breaking Lexa from her thoughts.

"I won't." Lexa was still so shaken she could hardly think.

"What is the date today?" Jackie demanded.

"March 12."

Jackie didn't speak, but bitterness coiled like a snake inside of her. Not even six months since her fall, but it felt like years. It felt like forever and always would. Blackness surrounded her, and that would never change. Clayton would go on. He would read the letter and hurt for a time, but then he'd find someone new, marry her, and live forever in happiness. He'd probably become a father. The thought so pained Jackie that she gasped.

"What is it?" Lexa asked.

"Nothing. Have you got it ready?"

"Yes."

"Dated?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now tomorrow, right after school, you take it and post it. No one is to know, do you hear me, Lexa? No one! And don't get any ideas in your head about writing to Clay."

"Don't you think he already knows, Jackie? Eddie or someone must have told him."

"No," Jackie said with confidence. "He doesn't know. I'm sure of it."

"How can you be?"

"Because he's still writing to me. If he knew I was blind, I'd never hear from him again. This way is best. He'll hate me, and that'll be the end of it."

Lexa couldn't find anything to say to this. She wanted nothing to do with this horrid scheme, but she felt trapped. For just an instant she wanted to strike her sister. She wanted to lash out, call her names, and rail at her for climbing that ladder, but when she looked up, Jackie wore such a look of utter hopelessness and despair that Lexa was crushed. She prayed as she'd been doing for the past five months.
What are we going to do, Lord? What are we going to do?

Denver

Clayton's hands shook as he opened the letter. Even without seeing the contents, he knew Jackie's hand. She hadn't written in six months, and he'd about given up hope. He laughed at his own reaction to a simple letter, but still his hand shook.

"Clay," it began, and ended with "Jackie." Clayton read it over twice and then one more rime. He stared at the words but couldn't take them in. He sat slowly on his chair. On his desk lay her last letter, dated in September. He'd read it so many times that it was torn and smudged. How could this happen? The letter from the fall was filled with happiness and love—love for him.

Oh, Jackie,
his heart cried.
How could you do this to us? We love each other.
The flow of Claytons heart stopped.
We did love each other. Now it's just me.
Clayton realized how true it was. Jackie might have fallen for someone else, but Clayton would never. The pain squeezing his heart was like a steel band. He looked down in front of him and spotted the letters he'd been writing. He was applying to three different positions he'd read about in the Denver newspaper. The one on top was addressed to the school board in Georgetown.

Clayton lay his hand on it and crumpled it into a ball. He might not hate Jackie or believe he could ever love again, but neither could he move there, teach school, and live near her and her new love. Again pain tore through him, and a sob broke from his throat. His mother, who came to tell him dinner was ready, found him crying at his desk. He told her the whole story but felt no relief. She cried with him but urged him to eat. He wasn't hungry. Right now he didn't think he'd ever be hungry again.

Robert and Eddie had prayed for an opening in the weather, and God gave them a time. They arrived in Georgetown on April 27. It was a surprise to all, but mostly to Addy. She never dreamed they'd come when there was still such a strong chance of snow, but she was thrilled to have them. As she stood in the kitchen with them, however, a strained look crossed her face.

"Father told us how bad she is," Eddie said quietly and before her mother could speak. "He's in the stable now, putting the horses in for the night."

"Your father's here?" Addy was amazed. "It's only 2:00, and no one else is with him today. The girls aren't even home from school yet. '

"He closed the store for the day and brought us in the wagon," Robert put in. "We told him we can't stay long, and he said he didn't want to miss any time with us."

"Why are you here?" Addy was completely confused.

"To take Jackie back to Boulder with us," Robert stated.

Addy began to shake her head, but Eddie spoke up, "No, Mother. Don't try to get used to the idea right now. Just let it sink in."

"Eddie, you don't know what you're saying. You've never seen her like—" Robert stopped her with a hand to her arm.

"It's going to be all right," he said gently.

"What if she says no?" Addy asked just as Morgan was coming in the back door. "What if Jackie refuses to go?

"She's not going to be given a choice," Morgan said kindly, but with a note of steel. "And neither are you, Addy. It doesn't have to be forever, but Robert and Eddie are right. Its time for this."

Addy nodded but had one more comment. "I won't tell you no, but I will say this—you haven't seen her or talked to her. It may not be me who changes my mind."

Robert and Eddie both looked at her. A moment later, the air was split by Jackie's piercing voice. The adults all exchanged looks, and then Eddies chin went into the air. She was thinking,
Your big sister has come to town.
She sailed from the kitchen, a determined glint in her eye.