Torrent Falls

by Jan Watson

  “You must have seen some beautiful things while you were sailing round the world.”

  “Yes. You wouldn’t believe God’s design, Copper. I surely wouldn’t have until I saw it for myself.”

  “Tell me the most beautiful thing you saw.”

  “I’m looking at it now.”

  Her heart took a misstep and shuddered in her chest. This isn’t right, she thought, sitting with Simon’s baby in my lap and all the while inviting another man’s attention. Her rocker stopped. “I’d best get in and put Lilly down.”

  He turned her way. “Can I come again?”

  Copper hefted Lilly, tucking the baby’s head over her shoulder, preparing to stand. “Of course. You know you’re welcome anytime.”

  “I don’t mean anytime. I mean like this. You and me and Lilly taking in the night air together.” Across the distance his hand reached out and covered hers. “Remember years ago when I asked your daddy if I could come calling? Well, now I’m asking you.”

  Glad for the darkness that covered her distress, Copper answered, “I don’t think I’m ready. I couldn’t offer you much.”

  “All I’m asking is to sit on the porch with you.”

  She stood with her daughter and walked away. “We’ll see.”

  John opened the door for her before he slapped his hat on and turned to go. “Well, all righty then.”

  Through the open window as she laid Lilly in her crib, as she sat down on her bed, as she removed her dress and then the wedding ring from her camisole, all that time Copper could hear John’s whistling tune until it faded into the darkness across the creek.

  Her shoulders shook as tears streamed down her cheeks. What was happening to her? How could she even think of another man while she was still married in her heart? Kneeling, her head in her hands, she prayed for God’s guidance and for Simon’s forgiveness.

  Surprisingly, her sleep was deep and hard. She hadn’t woken when Darcy came in, so around 1 a.m., when necessity roused her, she tiptoed to her charge’s bedroom door. Moonlight streamed through the window and illuminated Darcy’s face, the rose still tucked in her hair.

  After easing Darcy’s door closed, Copper grabbed a quilt from her bed and went outside. Her chair sat where she’d left it, and John’s was angled toward it. As always, Dimmert had filled the water bucket before he went to bed. Copper poured a cup with the granite dipper and settled down for a spell. She’d become used to these late night forays into reflection and enjoyed them until she let her guard down and her true feelings came tumbling out.

  What would Simon think? Would he like the fact that she was back in her home place, back where she started? Or would he be disappointed that she had left the safety and security of their home in the city? The work was good for her; she knew that. Hard work soothed the soul and let her sleep at night. Well, most nights anyway.

  And then there were all the lessons she had learned at her doctor husband’s side. It seemed the bone setting and baby birthing and poultice applying among others had all fallen by the wayside since she came back. She was turning into a ninny. Why, she hadn’t even been able to look at her own feet when she’d been bleeding beet juice.

  Something on the windowsill caught her eye. She laid her quilt aside and got up to look. A glass canning jar beckoned her with faint light. Turning it in her hands, she smiled. It was full of grass and lightning bugs. The lid had been punctured with air holes. John remembered that as children when they caught fireflies for fun she’d never been able to let the bugs die in the jar. She’d always fed them stalks of grass and made sure they could breathe in their captivity. John was so thoughtful. A warm feeling settled in her chest, along with something she hadn’t felt for a long, long time: a little leap of joy.

  Settling in with the jar of light, her quilt, and her cup of water, she prayed for God’s guidance as the rocker sang its squeaky song. Lord, she petitioned, use me in whatever way pleases You. Help me set aside my petty worries and be the person You want me to be.

  Before long, after the comfort that prayer always gave her, she unscrewed the jar lid and let the insects stagger out, free to entertain another night. Soon she was back in bed, fast asleep. Her baby slept beside her. Darcy snored lightly in her room.

  Way over yonder up the tangled holler where the sturdy cabin sat bathed in moonlight, Dance Shelton dared to crack open the door. The screen was still intact over the turtle prison. But what if it bumped against the porch? What if it reached up its beaked mouth and bit her through the screen? Fear gnawed at her belly. But Ace had been gone for two days and two nights, and hunger had sharpened her mind. She reasoned the turtle was as trapped as she. Maybe, just maybe, if she took a giant step she could clear the trap. Don’t look down. Freedom lay on the other side. Just don’t look down.

  Ragged breaths shook her body as she teetered in the doorframe. “Go on,” she urged herself. “Just take one step.”

  Then she did. She cleared the turtle hole easily enough, and the next thing she knew she was standing on the porch steps. “Which way is Mammaw’s?” Her voice sounded rusty to her ears. “Which way?” she asked again, waiting for her own direction. Fancying she could smell a drift of chimney smoke from over the far ridge, she thought she’d set out that way. Dance gathered her long skirt in her hand and took a step toward freedom.

  And then the hooting started. Soon the forest round the cabin was alive with screaming whoos.

  Tripping over her skirt, she scrambled back up the steps and flung herself through the door, then slammed it shut. As her heart hammered in her chest, she wedged a straight-backed chair under the knob. Then, pulling the bedcovers over her head, she waited for her heart to settle.

  After a while, as she was nearing sleep, she thought to pull the chair away from the door. Ace wouldn’t like it the least bit if he thought she’d shut him out of his own house. At least she knew what to expect from him . . . better than the dark outside. Who knew what waited there?

  Dimmert was hauling water in buckets from the creek so Copper and Darcy could keep the garden from drying up. They ladled two dippers for each tepee of runner beans and three for the tomato plants. The luscious beans had already provided several suppers, but hard, green knobs clung tenaciously to the itchy stalks of tomatoes.

  Another week, Copper thought, rubbing the rash on her arms. Even the long sleeves of her housedress didn’t prevent the itch caused by tomato leaves. The July sun beat down on the black bonnet Mam had left behind. She should have grabbed a light-colored one, but force of habit chose Mam’s. It was a comfort somehow.

  But now the heat made her swimmy-headed. Her dipper fell as fireflies pricked a closing darkness.

  Strong arms broke her fall and led her to the shade tree where Lilly slept in her wagon. Soon Darcy had her bonnet off. Looking through a kaleidoscope of color, Copper thought she might be sick.

  “Keep your eyes shut,” Darcy said. “You just got a tad too hot.”

  As if from a distance, she could hear Dimmert coming through the garden. Each brush against tomato bush, bean tepee, or potato hill was as loud as buckshot. Copper wondered if she was dying. What would happen to Lilly Gray?

  Water splashed as if from the pretty waterfall she and Lilly had found, cool trickles ran under her chin and down her arms, and dippers full cooled her feet and ankles.

  “Thank ye, Dimm,” she heard Darcy say. “Maybe you should go for help.”

  “No,” Copper protested weakly. “Help me sit up. I’m already better.”

  Dimmert lifted her to lean against the shade tree. With a pillow from Lilly’s wagon, he padded her back and shoulders.

  She opened her eyes, and colors pulled together as her head cleared. Darcy handed her the dipper, and she took a long pull. Water never tasted so good. Sister and brother stood back a ways, giving her air, concern on their faces.

  “My goodness,” Copper said. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.”

  Darcy crouched beside her. “Did you eat this m
orning?”

  “I think so. . . . Yes, a biscuit and apple butter and some coffee.”

  “We’d best get you to the house. Do you think you can walk?”

  Before she could answer, Dimmert lifted her in his arms and in a few dozen strides had her out of the garden and into the rocker on the porch. Darcy led Lilly Gray, looking a little peevish after being woken up, over to Copper. Lilly popped her thumb in and out of her mouth.

  “Thumb out,” Copper tried to say, but her words jumbled on her tongue.

  “Dimmert,” Darcy said, “go fetch Mammaw.”

  Dimmert pointed across the creek. “Mr. John?”

  “Mr. John wouldn’t know what to do,” Darcy replied. “Men never do. ’Sides, he probably ain’t home. We need Mammaw.”

  It felt strange to be in bed in the middle of the day, stranger still to have Darcy hovering about, stirring the air around Copper’s face with a church fan. The bedroom window was propped open, and a little breeze joined with Darcy’s fan. A wet rag lay across her forehead and one on Lilly Gray’s. Lilly had pulled off her own dress and now lay, an invalid, beside her mother.

  “Ain’t you a sight, Lilly Corbett,” Darcy teased. “We’ll have to give you some of Mammaw’s tonic.”

  Lilly frowned and burrowed closer to Copper. Her little body gave off unneeded heat, but Copper was glad for her presence. What might have happened if not for Darcy and Dimmert? Her mind spun with terrible possibilities. Lilly Gray could have toddled off and fallen in the creek or been bitten by the copperhead they had yet to find. Copper caught Darcy’s arm. “You’re a blessing in my life.”

  “Mammaw says God plants you where you’re most needed.” Darcy leaned closer with the fan.

  Copper could feel tendrils of hair whipping round her face. She reached up shakily to tuck them behind her ears. “Well, God knows Lilly and I needed you and Dimmert, but how did your mammaw know to send you here?”

  “Mr. John come by one night. Set on the porch for a spell. He’s sure handsome, ain’t he?”

  Copper thought that was a question she shouldn’t answer. John had been sitting on her porch most every night for two weeks now, but would she say he was handsome? She tried so hard not to compare him to Simon. It was unfair because they were so different. Simon had been dark haired and dark eyed, just a few inches taller than her, with an economy of movement, always aware of his surroundings. John was tall, broad shouldered, and a little clumsy, always tipping something over.

  Just the night before when they’d gone for a walk across the creek, he’d tried to take her hand and nearly knocked her off the footbridge instead. But to be fair, that was probably her fault. As soon as he reached for her, she’d jerked away. He should have known she wasn’t ready for hand holding. Walks and porch sitting were enough for now. Still she couldn’t help but imagine what her hand in his would feel like. It would feel good, she figured. She wondered if he’d ever work up the courage to kiss her. Flushing scarlet, she shifted in the bed.

  Lilly sat up, and the wet rag slid down her face. “Oh.”

  Copper laughed and drew the light cotton quilt up over Lilly’s shoulders. “Darcy, I feel better. I think I’ll get up and break some beans for supper.”

  “What if I bring them in here? We can break them while we wait on Mammaw.”

  Green beans with new potatoes and ham hock were simmering on the cookstove before Fairy Mae and her entourage arrived. Copper was up, if still a little shaky, when she saw Dimmert’s horse pull a wagon full of young’uns into the yard. “We’d better make another round of corn bread, Darcy,” she said.

  The children scrambled out of the wagon and piled onto the porch. Lilly Gray was delighted; she finally had playmates.

  Fairy Mae Whitt was considerably slower. It was quite a process getting the little woman out of the wagon. As wide as she was tall, with the shortest legs Copper had ever seen on a grown woman, she sort of trundled into the kitchen. Backing up, she plopped into the chair Darcy had waiting, her thick legs sticking out as stiff as kindling. Darcy slid another chair under them for support.

  “Give your mammaw some sugar, Darcy,” Fairy Mae said, her black eyes twinkling.

  Darcy did as she was bid, bussing her grandmother on both cheeks and patting her face before going to the screen door and calling out, “Dory, mind Lilly Gray. Don’t let her off the porch.”

  “Ain’t she the best hand with young’uns?” Fairy Mae asked Copper. “Darcy’s the best of the lot.”

  Darcy grinned. “Mammaw, you say that about all us kids.”

  “I owe you so much, Fairy Mae,” Copper replied. “Darcy and Dimmert have been an answer to prayer.”

  “Well, their pa would be glad to hear that. He’s a circuit rider, preaches anywhere there’s a need, even as far as Tennessee.” Her sharp eyes took Copper in. She pointed at another chair. “Come set with me a spell. Tell me what’s ailing you.”

  Tapping a wooden spoon on the rim of the bean pot, Copper secured the lid before taking the chair Darcy pulled out. “I just had a sinking spell. I feel much better now.”

  “Don’t look better.” Fairy Mae leaned forward and pulled one of Copper’s eyelids down, then lifted her upper lip to reveal her gum. “Close that door, Darcy.”

  The murmur of children’s voices faded. “Can you pull off your shirtwaist, girl?” Fairy Mae asked.

  Copper suddenly felt faint again and very frightened. Her fingers fumbled at her blouse as she followed directions.

  Fairy Mae probed and prodded, sure as if Copper’s body was a map and she a traveler. “You still nursing that baby girl?”

  “She’s not two yet,” Copper replied, her head clearing.

  Fairy Mae slid her arm around Copper’s shoulders and pulled her head to the crook of her neck. “You cain’t bear to give it up, can you, darlin’?”

  “She’s my only baby. I may never get to do this again.”

  Her gentle hands stroked Copper’s tearstained cheeks. “I know, lovey. It’s a hard thing, but everything has an ending. Remember your Bible verse that says every thing has its season?”

  “Is nursing all that’s wrong with me?” Copper sat up and began to button her shirtwaist.

  “I’d bet the devil. You don’t weigh a hundred pounds, and most of that’s bone. Buttermilk six times a day and put your wee one on the cup. You’ll soon be right as rain.”

  Copper sighed. “Lilly Gray will not be happy.”

  “I’ll leave Dilly with you for a spell. She’s just the right age for Lilly Gray to want to shadow. Dilly will keep her too busy to know what she’s missing.”

  Copper wanted to crawl up in Fairy Mae’s lap and be rocked in her soft arms. It felt so good to be cared for.

  “You come along next week when Dimmert brings Dilly home. It will do you good to get off this place, and I’ll give you some flower slips. As I recall, Grace Brown always had flower beds.”

  “Yes, she did.” Copper smiled at the happy memory. “Mam had a way with flowers.”

  Dilly Whitt was a five-year-old firecracker. Her hair was as red as Copper’s, and she had the temperament to boot. From morning to night it was mud pie–making, egg-gathering, cat-wallowing, and firefly-chasing mayhem.

  Her time with Lilly Gray was fun for the two little girls but melancholy for Copper. It was as Fairy Mae predicted: Lilly wore herself out keeping up with Dilly. Now she babbled constantly, always used the potty, and turned away from her mother. Only at night did Copper have her baby back, and then Lilly tumbled into sleep as fast as a rock down the mountainside. Copper bound her breasts as tight as she could bear to ease the physical pain.

  In the evenings Copper and John would sit on the porch and watch all four children play Mother, may I? or freeze tag. Even Dimmert turned into a boy again with his littlest sister around. He was amazingly patient with the two little ones, carrying Lilly on his shoulders while he scissor-stepped or teasing Dilly out of a temper fit. Even though he didn’t say much, he laughed a lot.
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  “Have you ever heard that boy talk?” John asked Copper one night as they sat companionably in the porch rockers.

  “He talks when he needs to, but he is painfully shy. He does have some odd ways, though.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, for one thing he never comes in the house; he even eats outside. And for another, have you noticed he always keeps his horse in sight? No matter if he is hauling water or hoeing corn, Star is where Dimmert can see him.”

  “Good-looking horse,” John said over the squeaking rocker. “This thing needs oiling.”

  “Never mind. I like the sound.”

  Too soon it was time to take Dilly home. Copper had grown fond of the little girl, and Lilly Gray was sure to pitch a fit when they left her at Fairy Mae’s. It would be sad for Darcy and Dimmert too. Copper thought of John as the wagon taking Dilly home lurched along rutted roads. It felt right to be with him. Her foolish heart was yearning toward his. She dared to imagine children of their own playing in the yard someday.

  Lilly Gray leaned against her, yawning, lulled by the wagon’s sway. Copper pulled Lilly’s thumb from her mouth. The little girl didn’t protest, just nestled against her mother. Life was indeed worth living.

  It was a relief when the wagon pulled up in front of Fairy Mae’s house. Bottoms numb and teeth jarred, everyone was ready for a break, and it was good to have friends to greet you at the end of a journey. Darcy jumped down with Lilly, and Dimmert swung the laughing Dilly over the side before he helped Copper down.

  The cabin was pretty. It sat back in a grove of pines, but the front yard was bathed in sunlight. Flowers of many colors brightened the stepping-stone path where butterflies slowly winged their way along. Two hummingbirds darted in and out of a red geranium the size of a bushel basket. Lilly stopped and pointed, delighted by the humming sound of their tiny bodies.

  Copper lifted Lilly to sit astride her hip. She bent down and cupped a bright yellow bloom. “This flower is a lily. Isn’t it beautiful? Just like you.”