Grace for a Drifter

by Marisa Masterson

  Not waiting for her husband to speak, she bent and put out a hand. “Robbie, I’ve come to take you with me. I’m your new mama.”

  The little one looked at her hand before hiding his face in Widow Perkin’s skirt. She pulled him away and chastised him. “None of that now. This here’s your real mama and she’s come to do right by you.”

  The woman’s eyes went from Bethany to Errol before she spoke. “One of you will need to grab his bag. Since he don’t like men, I suppose Bethany would do better carrying the boy rather than his bag.” She gave Robbie a gentle shove. “Go get your toy and your bag.”

  He disappeared into the house and quickly returned, clutching a wooden train engine while he dragged a carpetbag behind him. Errol dropped Liza’s hand and stepped forward to take the bag. Bethany moved to pick up Robbie and felt a small body wiggle past her to reach him before she did.

  Liza smiled at him and held out a hand. “Hi, Robbie. You’re my new brother and we’ll get to play together.” The little boy took her hand and followed her. She showed him how to hop from stone to stone and he giggled while he tried to imitate her. After thanking Mrs. Perkins, Bethany followed them, grateful for the way Liza had deflated the tension of the previous moment. She’d been sure Robbie would scream when she carried him to the buggy. Instead, he hopped happily to it.

  Errol had the kids loaded before she made it to the vehicle. As he helped her in, she couldn’t resist asking the question. “Are you angry at me?”

  His mouth didn’t lose its tightness as he responded. “I’m trying not to be. You and Robbie are as much victims in this as I am.” He let out a deep sigh. “I imagine being separated from your child for these years was torture. It’s my father who I need to focus my anger on right now. He arranged all of this somehow.”

  Her face denied that. “He didn’t know about our child.” She looked at Robbie as she said that and her expression changed to one of deep love. “I’ve missed him. I stayed to nurse him for the first six months. That made it worse since I ached to be with him each day after that.”

  “We’ll talk later, after they’re asleep,” he promised meaningfully. She realized this had been a shock for him and saw the tender and reasonable man she’d fallen in love within his response to it. It had been cowardly not to tell him right away about Robbie. She owed him an explanation.

  Settling into the buggy, she pulled Robbie onto her lap, making room on the seat for Errol. The toddler stiffened and pushed away from her until Liza spoke to him. “It’s okay. She’s your mama and loves you.”

  He looked up into the face of the mother he didn’t know. Bethany smiled and leaned down. Kissing him on the forehead, she inhaled his scent, memorizing it. He had accepted her kiss and even leaned against her now.

  Hugging Robbie to her, she leaned to her side and kissed Liza’s forehead too. “Thank you, sweet girl. I love you too, you know.”

  Liza looked at her hopefully. “Does that mean you’re going to be my mama too?”

  Climbing into the buggy, Errol heard his daughter’s question. “Definitely. You can call her mama since she and Robbie will be with us forever.”

  Bethany remained silent. She smiled at the girl but said nothing. After all, he was right. They were married and would get to know each other as they lived together. At least he wouldn’t push for the physical part of the marriage—something she didn’t feel ready to enjoy. On the train, he’d agreed for them to become reacquainted before being physically intimate.

  The day had been a long one and the children were hungry. She welcomed their return to the boarding house for supper. Not unexpectedly, Mrs. Cowley made a face about Robbie’s presence.

  “Poor unwanted mite. Abandoned by two mothers and unwanted by two fathers.” She clicked her teeth and shook her head.

  Bethany stiffened, but it was Errol who gave an icy response. “We are very glad to have our son with us, Mrs. Cowley. He’s been restored rather than abandoned.”

  She gave him a doubtful look and turned toward the kitchen to bring out the meal. Bethany also felt doubtful and could understand the woman’s look. Would Robbie accept them as his family?

  Putting thoughts of her son aside for the moment, Bethany followed the woman into the kitchen. The landlady looked surprised and then scowled at Bethany.

  “I don’t need any help getting on a meal.” She growled her words, making sure Bethany realized she was unwelcomed in the kitchen.

  Not deterred, she dismissed the woman’s attitude and employed her best teacher voice. “While you may not require help, I do. It involves my aunt.”

  At her words, the woman set down the platter she carried and looked quizzically at Bethany. She knew Mrs. Cowley loved to share information with anyone who would listen and probably the woman hoped for a tidbit about Aunt Milly’s disappearance to spread around town.

  “I don’t suppose I know much more about it than you do now.” Mrs. Cowley waited for her response, eagerness clear in her face.

  “What I’d like to know involves your boarders.” Pausing to mentally rehearse her question, Bethany carefully kept her voice emotionless as she continued. “I was told she left with a salesman. Did you have any staying with in the last five days?”

  Mrs. Cowley looked disappointed at not learning anything new. Still, she answered quickly. “Only Mr. Kern. He is here quite often.”

  A regular might have formed a relationship with her aunt. “Please describe him.”

  The woman went on to describe the small, bespectacled man who spoke with a lisp. He definitely didn’t fit with her idea of a man with whom Aunt Milly might leave.

  The landlady’s next works reinforced that idea. “Also, though I don’t like to criticize, the man is stingy. I have to beg for my payment from him.”

  Aunt Milly’s letters had been filled with complaints about the luxuries she was doing without on the farm. This Mr. Kern couldn’t be the person her aunt referred to in the note.

  Was there a note? Why would Uncle Ralph burn it when he would need it as proof that her aunt did leave and hadn’t come to any harm?

  Perhaps something terrible had happened to the woman. She intended to mention it to Errol later.

  During the meal, Bethany watched Robbie and Robbie watched Liza. He imitated the girl’s use of utensils and ate what she did. If she took a bite of her chicken so did he. When she scooped a bit of the potatoes into her mouth, the boy did too. It was clear that he already idolized her.

  Liza clearly enjoyed his worship. She giggled and turned the eating into a game, pretending to put a fork of potatoes into her mouth and then returning it to her plate before she ate it. Her mother gently urged her to stop playing and focus instead on eating. The girl obeyed but continued to grin and tease Robbie as he copied her.

  After the meal, Errol and Bethany took the two children on a walk. Rather than racing ahead as usual, Liza slowed her steps for Robbie and held his hand. She chanted, creating a song about what they were seeing and soon had him humming along with her song about cats and dogs, flowers and fences.

  That night, using extra blankets grudgingly given by Mrs. Cowley, Bethany settled the children on the floor next to her side of the bed and was glad the landlady didn’t have extra rooms. Robbie might need her in the night. Having the children in the room also guaranteed that Errol would wait to become intimate once again.

  She left them giggling as she left to stand outside the partially closed door. Liza had declared they were camping and decided to tell a story to Robbie about a time when she and their daddy camped in the desert. Bethany had listened for a while outside the door before she’d closed it. There didn’t seem to be any scary parts to the story which relieved her mind. Soon the story stopped. She peeked in and saw that both children slept.

  Closing the door now, she moved down the stairs to join Errol for their talk. He’d told her to come to the porch after putting the children to bed. Heading there, she found him waiting on the swing.

  Sitt
ing next to him, she startled then relaxed as she felt the weight of his arm settle around her shoulders. With a sigh, she leaned back against it.

  “Kids are both asleep. Liza put both Robbie and herself to sleep with a story.” She laughed as she thought about the chatty girl.

  Errol chuckled along with her. “She loves to talk and sing. That’s the God honest truth.”

  He moved the swing slowly and let the rhythm lull them for a time. When he spoke, his whisper seemed jarring in the silence of the night.

  “Why did you name our son after my father? He’d convinced you I was a bigamist. Certainly, you couldn’t have fond feelings for him.”

  She winced next to him. “I didn’t name him. By the time Robbie was born, Aunt Milly and the rest of the town convinced me life would be dreadful if I stayed. She’d painted a rosy picture of the wonderful life our son would have if I let her raise him.”

  Swallowing a sob at the memories, she forced the rest of the story out. “When I gave birth, she named him. She told me she chose your father’s name in case she ever needed help from the man. By the way, his middle name is Errol. The connection is clear.”

  “Earlier you said you stayed for a while with him. Why did she let you do that if she’d already claimed our boy?” The tight sound to his voice told her he struggled to stay reasonable and not let emotion drive his comments. She appreciated that about him just as she had almost four years before.

  Four years. Their wedding anniversary would be next week. The date had been painful. This year she wished for a joyful day.

  “From the time he was born, Aunt Milly insisted on doing everything for Robbie. She refused, even, to let me hold him at his birth.” Determined not to be overwhelmed by the feelings swamping her, she paused to martial them. “He refused a bottle. As he grew weaker, she gave in and let me feed him. I believe God allowed me those months as cherished memories later.”

  Errol didn’t comment, allowing her to say whatever came to her mind. In a wistful tone, she recalled her infant. “He was a happy baby. Not at all like the shy, quiet boy we found at Widow Perkin’s house. I’m not sure what happened. He certainly doesn’t like men. Perhaps Aunt Milly didn’t protect him from Uncle Ralph’s harsher side.”

  By her, Errol stiffened at the mention of Ralph and pulled his arm away from her. “Why would you leave our son with him if you knew he was violent?”

  Looking at him in the darkness, she could just make out his frown by the glow coming from a lamp by the front window. “He was pleased to have a son to inherit the farm. I felt sure he would be good to Robbie. Something had to have changed for him to insist I reclaim him.”

  She shared her earlier talk with Mrs. Cowley with Errol and mentioned her suspicions. “I’m worried that something’s happened to Aunt Milly. When I asked about her note, I could tell my uncle held something back from me. Like he has a secret.” Worry caused her voice to quake.

  Stretching his arm once again around her shoulders, he cradled her and leaned down. She thought he meant to kiss her and was disappointed when he only placed a quick peck on her forehead. “Somehow, I think my father holds clues to this mystery. Do you want to confront him with me?”

  Want was the wrong word. She didn’t want to ever meet the man again. Need seemed more appropriate. Hesitantly she shared that with Errol.

  “I think I need to be there in case he denies what he did to cause our separation. When do you plan for us to go? Should I get the rest of Robbie’s clothes from the farm first?”

  “He has enough with him, I bet. We can buy what he needs if it comes to that. Let’s board the train tomorrow and head to St. Louis.” As steady as he worked to maintain a calm voice, she heard the dread in it.

  “Who are you more angry with—me, my aunt, or your father?” They needed to talk about this before resuming their marriage and she decided to force the issue while dark cocooned them.

  He groaned and then did lean down to kiss her. It was an urgent, passionate welcome home kiss that told the story of his grief since their parting. Pulling away, he stroked her cheek with his hand. “You and I have been punished enough during this separation. I can’t blame you, especially when it’s clear that my father and your aunt were behind it.”

  Her voice cracked as she asked, “What did he have to gain? I don’t understand this at all.”

  He kissed her auburn hair. “Father had a woman picked out for me. Her father owned a business that my father planned to merge with his own. He wanted the marriage to cement the joining of the two companies. I refused, even after I was told of your death.”

  At the mention of her death, the sobs slipped past her rigid control. She turned her head into his muscular shoulder and muffled the sound. He pulled her from the seat and onto his lap, cradling her tightly against him. When he leaned his face down to hers, his tears dripped onto her cheek and they grieved together.

  Typically happy, Liza loudly complained. “I don’t want to be on this train.” She crossed her arms and glared. Previously excited when he’d boarded the train, Robbie too crossed his arms and imitated her expression while Bethany looked on with a worried frown.

  Errol couldn’t blame them. Liza had endured a long trip just two days before and loved to run free. He knew he asked a lot of her by traveling again.

  “Honey, we have to take this trip. I am glad you’re such a big girl so you can help with Robbie during the long ride.”

  At the mention of his name, the boy looked at his father and then tried to hide behind Liza, burrowing his face into the seat. The frowning girl vanished as Liza giggled and turned in the seat to look at him. “I have books. Wanna see one?”

  Robbie nodded but otherwise was still and quiet. He hadn’t said anything yet, yet he could laugh and cry so Errol felt sure the boy could speak. Something had spooked his son badly enough to render him mute. It made him wonder what Robbie had witnessed.

  Pulling out her Mother Goose book, Liza held it so Robbie could see too. Errol grinned at the sight they made as Robbie ducked under Liza’s arm and squeezed between his sister and the book to view it better. Many times, as he’d read to Liza, she’d do the same thing. Watching, he was thrilled and relieved at how easily she’d welcomed Bethany and Robbie into their family.

  Wanting to share the moment with his wife, he gazed her way but saw only the back of her head as she stared out the window at the blur of colors as the train flew down the tracks. A hand on her arm didn’t gain her attention. He felt a bit rejected until he noticed her discreetly wipe at tears on her cheeks.

  Tears again. The night before they’d grieved in the privacy created by the darkness. He’d shared what it had been like to return for her after burying Sandra. She’d told him about being confronted with his father’s evidence and then told of Robbie’s birth while knowing she couldn’t provide him a home.

  “A part of me waited for you to appear and insist that everything he told me was a lie,” she’d admitted with a trembling voice. “Now I understand why you didn’t come for me, or rather, why you came but I never knew it.” Her voice had strengthened with those last words and he believed she discarded, at that moment, any remaining doubts about him.

  Since she wanted to become familiar with him again, he’d insisted that they share the bed. He’d held her during the night, not sleeping even while she seemed to melt against him into a deep slumber. He lay awake and prayed for wisdom as well as for the Lord to give him the strength to master the anger toward his father.

  Now, as they sped along toward a meeting with that man, Errol pushed his anger down. He had been given the desire of his heart. He had Bethany, alive and well, with him and two beautiful children. Liza had a mother and he had what he dreamed of—a family with the woman he loved.

  Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled his wife away from the window and tenderly pushed her face into his shoulder, hiding her tears. Leaning down to her ear, he spoke for her alone. “The joy is almost too much to bear. I feel it too.”
>
  Her head bobbed against him and then she pulled back. He pulled a clean handkerchief from a pocket inside his jacket and handed it to her. Glancing at his children—what a sweet word—he enjoyed watching them giggle together over something Robbie pointed to in the book. They hadn’t noticed and become upset by Bethany’s silent weeping.

  “Perhaps in a few days all of this will seem real to me. Each time I look at him, I struggle between crying and thanking God.” After several deep breaths, she cuddled into his side and shared her struggles. He knew this was much too public a place for this behavior, but they’d been apart too long for him to have the power to force her away or remind her of the need to be circumspect.

  Looking down into her face, only their lack of privacy prevented him from kissing her. Their eyes met and she betrayed her longing for his kiss. It was enough for now to know that Bethany wanted to be his wife and would welcome his affection. He had to be satisfied.

  To distract them both, he brought up the subject that tormented him during the night. “I prayed for quite a while during the night, but it wasn’t to thank God for you and the children, as embarrassed as I am to admit that.” She didn’t say anything even while her eyes and expression indicated her interest in what he had to say.

  “I’m struggling with my sin toward my father. I just can’t honor him and I know I’m breaking one of God’s commandments.”

  She nodded, her demeanor thoughtful. “My parents died so long ago. At least, they left money for me to be sent away to a school.” He remembered her sharing about the flood that had carried her parents away from their field one terrible day. The sale of their farm allowed her to attend a Normal school. In Kansas City, as he recalled.

  “During those years, I’d come home to Aunt Milly during school breaks. She and Uncle Ralph assumed the role of parents. It was awful to be with them and yet struggle to respect my uncle.” By now, she was fully-composed again and spoke with authority. “Too, your father has done us a great injury. If you hadn’t decided to wander the west, we might never…”