Spinning Out Of Control

by Vickie McDonough

  “Come on, Micah. I’m good at this. It feels right to help these people.”

  Micah stared into his brother’s blue-green eyes, so much like his own, and saw the sincerity there. His brother was asking for a chance to prove himself. As much as Micah disliked Ben endangering the family, he couldn’t help but admire him for wanting to help these unfortunate people who had so little. His esteem for his brother kicked up a notch or two.

  “Are you a conductor? Is that why you get up so often at night?”

  A sheepish grin turned up the corners of Ben’s mouth. “Sometimes, but I only take them a few miles then pass them off to a true conductor. I didn’t want to be gone too long while you were off hunting. And with you home, I couldn’t be gone too long, or you’d find out.”

  Micah wanted to rage at Ben for putting Kathryn and Beth in danger and then going off at night and leaving them with only aged Jonah for protection. But God had watched over his family, and now he was home and would protect them, with God’s help.

  “You can’t fault that woman for wanting to keep her child.”

  “No, I don’t.” Micah looked at Ben. “But I need you to understand how much pressure I already have on my shoulders. It’s not easy running a farm, raising and protecting a family, and now to have the worry of slave catchers coming here and hurting you or someone else.”

  “Sometimes God asks us to do difficult things,” Ben responded, looking older than his seventeen years. “I have to be obedient to what He calls me to do, just like you do. It wasn’t easy for us when you left to go trapping, but you had to do what you felt God was calling you to do, just like me.”

  Micah heaved a sigh. How could he fight God?—if this was truly God’s doing. His brother’s hopeful eyes begged for understanding.

  He never remembered Ben being so dedicated to any other cause. He was scared half to death to think of his brother in such danger. But he couldn’t protect Ben forever. Time to trust God to do that.

  “All right, but I want you to be very careful. And I don’t want slaves coming here too often. Only when absolutely necessary, and only for a short time. And keep them away from the cabin and Amy and the children. Runaways are desperate, and I don’t want my family getting hurt. You understand?”

  Ben’s brown eyes sparked with excitement. “Thank you, Micah. I’ll be careful. I always have. You won’t regret this.” Ben dashed off. He pumped his fist in the air and jumped, yelling, “Yeehaw!”

  Micah grinned at his brother’s youthful exuberance, but deep inside, he already regretted his decision.

  Ten

  Happy to be away from the hot, steaming washing pot, Amy tossed Micah’s freshly rinsed blue cotton shirt over the rope and straightened it. Beth trotted back and forth underneath the clothing strung out on the line between two trees. She neighed like a horse and waved her hands in the air.

  “Look at me. I’m a horsie.”

  Amy smiled as Beth pretended to rear and then pranced off toward where Sookie sat under a tree, nursing Missy. Her heart pinged. What would it feel like to hug a baby to my bosom and nurse it? To have a child totally dependent on me for life? My own child?

  Amy shook her head to force away the gripping thought. Unlike most women her age, she’d never before wondered what it would be like to be a mother. To have a child, she had to have a husband, and she’d never wanted that before.

  Her gaze traveled back to Sookie. In a way, the young woman was lucky, but then again, she had lost her own child. Was it difficult for her to wet-nurse little Missy?

  Sookie rarely spoke, except to Jonah. She went about her chores, content to hum and do her work, but she preferred not to socialize with Amy. That was a big disappointment. Amy had hoped they might become friends, but that was probably a foolish thought. On the other hand, Micah and Jonah seemed quite friendly with each other.

  Shaking out Ben’s shirt, she stared off into the distance, reveling in the happiness she’d found at the Walsh farm. Back home, she’d been happy when her mother was alive, though there was always the cloud of fear that her father would return and hurt her mother. Horatio Rogers had never hit his daughter, but Amy had grown up frightened of him and most other men.

  She reached for Micah’s spare long johns. At first, she’d been terribly embarrassed to look upon and handle the men’s undergarments, but now it no longer bothered her. They were just clothes that needed laundering.

  Spreading out the undergarment on the line, she considered how contented she’d grown. But how long could things continue as they had? She and Micah had settled into a comfortable rapport, though they didn’t spend much time together. Micah was so busy with the farm that he was rarely around except for meals and the girls’ bedtime.

  She figured at some point Micah would want to remarry, and then where would she be? The cabin was far too small for another person. Already, she and Sookie shared a bed, having long ago tossed out the mat Sookie had first used for sleeping. Amy had no idea where Missy would sleep once she outgrew her crib. Beth’s tiny bed was too small for both children.

  Amy’s thoughts turned to Ben. She worried about him. He seemed so tired lately, often nearly falling asleep at the dinner table. She hoped he wasn’t sick. He’d become the brother she never had, and he had settled down quite a bit since Micah’s return. As much as Ben complained about wanting to be treated like a man, Amy thought he felt relieved that Micah was the one in charge.

  “Mighty purdy day we’re having, ain’t it, Miz Amy? Mizzy Beth sure is having a pleasurable time.”

  Amy peeked between Ben’s shirt and the long johns to see Jonah’s dark face, alight with his gap-toothed grin. She couldn’t remember a time, other than when Kathryn had died, that he didn’t have a smile on his face or was humming a song. What would it feel like to be so lighthearted?

  “Yes, siree, the Good Lawd done painted one fine day t’day.”

  Glancing upward through the tall oak trees, Amy narrowed her eyes against the glare of the bright sky. Cottony white clouds drifted against the blue blanket. A hawk screeched then dove downward and swooped away with some poor critter in its talons.

  “That’s the law of nature. The strong survive and the weak don’t. But with man, the Good Lawd, He gives us the strength we needs to get by.”

  Amy fixed her gaze on Jonah. He wasn’t a big man like Micah. In fact he only stood an inch or so taller than herself, yet there was a power in him that emanated from inside. Was that what he was talking about? Strength from God?

  If only she could have that surety. But how could she trust a heavenly Father she couldn’t see when her own earthly father had been so vile? “I’m trying to figure God out.”

  “You cain’t figure it all out. There comes a time you just have to believe.”

  Amy studied the bed of clover at her feet. “But it’s so hard to believe.”

  “How come?” Jonah leaned against one of the trees supporting the clothesline. He pulled out his pocketknife and a partially carved stick and started whittling.

  Amy glanced over to where Sookie had been sitting and realized she must have taken Missy inside. Beth sat near the porch steps digging dirt with a stick. With nobody else around, she told Jonah about her parents and how Horatio Rogers had left her and her mother to get by on their own—at least until the day he discovered he was dying. By then her mother was already dead, and Amy was sewing clothes and doing mending to put food on her meager table.

  “You gotta fo’give yo’ pappy.”

  “How?” Amy stared into Jonah’s sympathetic eyes. She’d despised her father for so long, she had no idea how to be rid of the sourness it left in her like curdled milk. She viewed all men the same—until Micah and Ben proved her wrong. Tierney also helped her to realize that there are good men in this world, just as there are bad ones. “How do I forgive my father?”

  “You cain’t do it by yo’self, Miz Amy, you gotta let God help you.”

  “But how do I do that?”

  �
�You start by surrendering yo’ heart to the Good Lawd.”

  Amy picked at a hole in the sock she’d just retrieved from the basket. She needed to repair it before it got any bigger. She wanted to ask Jonah the question burning in her heart, but felt it rude. Still, she needed answers. “Is that how you handle being a slave? By surrendering your own desires to God?”

  Jonah blinked then smiled his big, yellow-toothed grin. “ ’ Twas a day I did that. Got up ever’ morning and asked God fo’ the strength to do what He set before me. Fact is, I still do that. We all need God’s help each day.”

  His forehead furrowed, and he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. Then he looked up with gray brows lifted. “But don’t you know I ain’t a slave no longer? I’m a freed man.”

  Free? “But I thought you were a slave. How long have you been free?” Amy’s mind blurred with confusion. That could explain how Micah and Jonah were such good friends. Though she’d personally known no white men who associated with slaves on social terms, it warmed her heart that Micah did.

  “I been free ever since Micah done bought me from my last owner. First thing he done was to grant my freedom.”

  “Why do you stay here if you can go wherever you want?”

  “Right here’s where I want to be. Everybody I love is here.”

  Amy considered his comment. They were one and the same—everyone she loved lived here on this land.

  “Sookie ain’t no slave neither. Micah done set her free, too.”

  Amy blinked, trying to grasp what he’d said. She looked into the little man’s dark eyes until he nodded. How could she have not known this? For months she’d misjudged Micah, and realizing her mistake made her feel ill.

  She’d made a flagrant assumption that had allowed her to keep an emotional distance from him. What would she do since that barrier no longer stood between them? Living and working on the Walsh farm was all she had. It had become her home. She loved the children and everyone else residing there—even Micah. That last thought rooted her in place.

  “Miz Amy, we all face hard times and good times. It’s easy to love and follow God when things are good, but we need Him even more on the bad days. God is not like yo’ father. The Good Lawd loves you and yearns for you to turn to Him. Don’t shut out the Good Lawd. You needs Him—and He needs you.” Jonah pushed away from the tree he’d been leaning on and ambled toward where Beth played in the dirt.

  God needs me.

  That was something she’d never heard before. Why would He need her? It was something to contemplate.

  God loves me.

  Amy stared up through the trees to the bright sky above. The thought of the Creator of the world loving her warmed her insides, making her feel special.

  If only she could be sure what Jonah said was true, she’d embrace it in a heartbeat. But she’d known so much disappointment that trusting and believing in Someone as good and loving as Jonah’s God was difficult.

  ❧

  Micah stared down at Missy, asleep in his arms. Her fuzzy blond hair stuck straight up. One of the high points of his day was rocking her to sleep after Sookie nursed her every evening. Pink, bow-shaped lips darted up in a smile then relaxed, making him wonder what babies dreamed about.

  He pushed up from the rocker with one arm and carried Missy to her cradle in the bedroom. Beth, who should have already been asleep, flipped over, watching him.

  “Tell me another story, Papa.”

  He laid Missy down and covered her then turned to Beth. He took in her soft brown hair and mischievous brown eyes, and it stunned him to realize that Beth’s coloring closely resembled Amy’s. Dropping to the side of the bed, he considered that. A stranger walking down the boardwalk in town would most likely think Beth was Amy’s daughter. Instead of feeling regret at that thought as he would have expected, his chest warmed with the idea. Amy would be a good wife and mother some day. Was it right of him to hope her eye might turn his way? Wouldn’t she rather marry a younger man than be strapped with him, caring for his children and his home? The fair thing was to offer Amy her freedom—just like he had Jonah and Sookie.

  That thought chilled him as if he had stepped from a warm cabin outside on a cold, snowy day.

  “Papa, tell me a story.” Beth’s warm hand pushed against his leg.

  Kneeling, he tickled her tummy, receiving a squeal and giggles from her. “Do it again.” She lay with her arms over her head, waiting for him to repeat his actions.

  Not wanting to stir her up so she couldn’t sleep, he bent over the bed and applied a loud kiss to her soft cheek. “How about a butterfly kiss instead?”

  Beth giggled and nodded, her eyes sparking with delight. Leaning down, he fluttered his eyelashes up and down on her cheek. Her sweet laughter sounded better to him than the wind rustling through a cornfield, lush and ripe for the harvest.

  “Again.”

  Complying with her orders, he turned his head and kissed her with his other eye.

  “Again.”

  This time he looked up and shook his head. “Time for all little girls to go to sleep.”

  Beth stuck out her bottom lip in a pout, but he ignored it and pulled the lightweight cover over her legs. He kissed her forehead and said, “Night, night, Punkin.”

  Neither of the women were inside, so he left Ben, who sat at the table looking through a catalog, to watch over the girls. Sookie sat on the porch in the rocking chair next to Jonah, stitching a gown for Missy.

  “Where’s Amy?”

  “Down at the garden.” Jonah nodded his head in the garden’s direction.

  Micah trotted down the stairs and around the back of the cabin and saw Amy standing outside the weathered gray picket fence that surrounded the patch. Her garden was just as tidy and orderly as the cabin. In fact, it resembled a finely-planned patchwork quilt. Salad vegetables like lettuce and radishes had reached their peak growing season and were starting to fade, while turnips, potatoes, and squash were still leafing out.

  Amy must have heard his approach because she turned around. She brushed her hands along her skirt, and then held them in front of her. Her thin eyebrows lifted in curiosity. Since he rarely sought out her company, he wondered what she was thinking.

  He took a moment to survey the garden again then glanced back at her, hoping he just imagined that his presence made her nervous. “Might I have a word with you?”

  She nodded. “Of course. I’m done here anyway. I wanted to see if there were enough greens left to make a salad tomorrow. With the sun setting, it’s getting hard to see. Mind if we walk down to the creek?”

  “That’s fine.” He opened the fence gate, allowing her to exit. Side by side, they veered past the cabin and toward the creek. He wondered how to say what was on his heart. Best just start at the beginning, Jonah always said.

  “I should have done this a long time ago, but I want to thank you for how you took charge of the house and the girls after Kathryn died. I know I haven’t said much about it, but I do appreciate everything you’ve done.” He glanced sideways, sure now that it was a blush that colored Amy’s cheeks.

  “I didn’t do all that much.”

  Surprised at her humility, Micah stopped and Amy did, too. He turned toward her, wanting to make sure she knew how deeply he was in her debt. “Yes, you have done a lot. I can’t imagine what things would be like around here if not for you.”

  Her cheeks remained a soft rose color, and Amy glanced down. The evening breeze lifted and teased wisps of soft brown hair that had come loose from her bun, making him want to smooth them in place. Walking past her on the street, most men would think Amy plain. . .until she lifted those big brown eyes and stared into their souls. Hers was a gentle beauty of giving of herself to others. He didn’t remember ever hearing her complain, although she had nagged Ben a time or two not to slam the door or to wipe the mud off his boots before entering the cabin.

  When Amy peeked up at him through her thick lashes, Micah realized he’d been sta
ring. He cleared his throat. “I think perhaps I’ve been taking advantage of you.”

  Something like alarm flashed through Amy’s eyes. Micah rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. Sometimes he wished he was better with words. “You’re so good with the girls. . .uh, that I just thought maybe you’d want to be a mother someday.”

  Amy’s eyes widened even further. If he hadn’t felt so serious, he might have laughed at her expression.

  “Well. . .o–of course I would. Someday.”

  “It’s just that you work so hard here, you’ll never have a chance to meet a beau. I was wondering if maybe you felt stymied here, what with all you have to do. I thought perhaps you would rather live in town.”

  Amy’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her eyes suddenly brightened with unshed tears. Micah knew his words hadn’t come out as he’d planned.

  “Y–you mean you want me to leave?”

  Eleven

  Amy’s misery knotted her stomach and pinched her heart. She lifted her hand to her chest and stared out at the creek. The waters looked darker as the evening shadows grew. Crickets chirped, and nearby a frog croaked, oblivious to her pain.

  What had she done wrong? Why would Micah cast her aside like a broken ax handle? Where would she go?

  Micah lifted his hands in surrender. “Hang on, I didn’t mean that at all.”

  She swatted at the tears trickling down her chin, then turned and lifted her gaze to his. His beautiful blue-green eyes looked pained. Frustration wrinkled his normally handsome face, and he rubbed the back of his neck in a manner that Amy had come to recognize as meaning he was perplexed or deep in thought.

  “Amy.”

  Her heart skipped at the sound of her name on his lips. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she cared far too much for Micah Walsh.