JAMES

by Garrett, Tracy

  “They picked everything they could before this storm hit. Doc thinks it’ll flatten everything still in the ground.”

  A flash of lightning lit the room and the rumble of thunder punctuated her words. “I have a roast with carrots and onions ready to cook, but it will be a few hours before it’s ready. I can cook some eggs or make you a sandwich of the leftover ham and some cheese, if you’d like.”

  “Either would be fine. I need to get out of these wet clothes.”

  “I laid out some dry things for you. They’re on the bed.”

  “You didn’t need to bother but thank you. It’s nice to be taken care of.”

  She turned away so he wouldn’t see how his gratitude made her blush. “I’ll find something for you to eat.”

  He retreated behind the curtain sheltering the bed. “Is there anything warm to drink?”

  “I filled the tea pot.” She detoured to stir up the fire in the stove and put the pot on to heat.

  “I suppose I go check the church windows before I change.”

  “I took care of them when you went with Tad. Even the one behind the altar,” she assured him. “I thought I was done but could still hear a bird that was singing too loudly for it to be through a closed window. It took a little hunting, but I found it.”

  “You did better than me my first time. I didn’t find it until after a heavy rain. I spent two hours mopping up. After I’d dumped the last of the water from the clean-up, Mrs. Abel arrived. She looked at the bucket and rags, shook her head, and said ‘they didn’t tell you about the window, eh?’ I haven’t forgotten to check it since.”

  Esther laughed. “They say experience is an excellent teacher.”

  “It certainly is.”

  A simultaneous flash and boom startled them both and woke Robbie. The rain came down harder than she’d ever heard before.

  “We’ll need to start putting buckets under the leaks.”

  She scooped Robbie off the floor. “But I filled all the buckets.”

  James stepped around the curtain. He’d taken off his shirt and the sight of tanned skin with a dusting of light-colored hair made her insides feel warm and funny. “Empty at least two. Hurry.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  James knew Esther didn’t understand his urgency, but he’d been through this kind of rain before. There was one leak in the roof near the chimney, one near the stove, and another by the front door, and once it started, it would be like the river was running into the cabin.

  While the storm raged, they emptied bucket after bucket, mopped up the floor and moved the baby’s basinet onto the bed, which was about the only dry spot in the cabin. When the rain finally ended, they both collapsed at the table in exhaustion.

  “Why haven’t you had the roof fixed?”

  “I try every time it rains, but I can’t find where it’s coming in, only where the water drips down.”

  “Drips? That was like holding back the Mississippi during the spring floods.”

  “At least it only happens when it rains hard like this. Now you relax.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m going to reheat the water and we can have that tea you promised.”

  “I put together some supper, but I’m not sure I can lift the pot to put it on the stove.” Robbie chose that moment to wake up.

  “Let me.” He lifted the baby from his basinet and brought him to Esther. While she took care of Robbie, he stirred up the fire and put the tea pot on to heat. Remembering the small ham that hung in the pantry, he grabbed a knife and plate. When he turned around to ask if that sounded good to her, he froze in place, his heart thudding hard in his chest.

  Esther was feeding Robbie and hadn’t bothered with a blanket to cover herself. The ivory slope of her breast, and the baby’s obvious enjoyment, stole his breath. Tearing his gaze away, he considered apologizing, but couldn’t find the words. The sight was too beautiful to regret.

  Once in the pantry, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He would never forget, no matter how many years the Lord granted him, how beautiful she looked, slightly disheveled from battling the leaks, singing softly while the baby nursed. She was meant to be a mother, which made her loss of Emma just that much more painful.

  Making himself concentrate on the task at hand, he sliced ham, some of the cheese, and added lettuce from the basket Doc had delivered. Two apples and freshly baked bread completed the impromptu meal.

  Hoping he’d given her plenty of time to finish with the baby, he left the safety of the pantry, being sure to make some racket to warn her he was coming. “How does a ham and cheese sandwich sound?”

  “Delicious,” she called from behind the curtain. “I pulled the tea pot off the burner. I’ll check on supper once the fire burns down some.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble.” He set the food on the table and held her chair when she joined him.

  “It’s already in the oven. I had plenty of time while you were off wrestling pigs.”

  “You’re good at this.” He made a gesture encompassing the whole room. “You take care of the baby, the house, bake, prepare meals, play organ and do it with such grace and ease. You are a marvel.”

  “I’m not,” she insisted. “I learned growing up, mostly, but living in a mining camp, working from sunup to sundown, taught me a lot about planning ahead. Either I had supper ready to put on the fire when I returned from working the line, or we didn’t eat that night. And not having food would put my husband in an especially difficult mood.”

  “It sounds like a hard life, especially for a woman.”

  “It was very hard, at times. Claude didn’t much bother with whether or not I was comfortable or happy. When a new group of miners came into the area, I had to make myself as invisible as possible. The way they looked at me… Claude just laughed when I told him I didn’t feel safe.”

  James had to bite back a curse. “As your husband, it was his responsibility to ensure your safety.”

  “He didn’t see it that way. Fortunately, the other miners in our little camp, Zeke and Jonah, would help me hide. They started calling me E.J. so no one would know that I was a woman. They’d help me make dinner before Claude came into camp and I would share what we had after he’d gone off gambling in one of the other camps. They reminded me that there were still good men in the world.” She laid her hand on his. “Like you.”

  The light from the lantern flickered in her eyes, making them mysterious somehow. He glanced down at her hand still on his, her elegant fingers such a contrast to his own. When he looked up again, their eyes met and, for a moment, held him. Entranced him.

  “I… Um...” Esther pulled away and reached for her empty plate. They cleared the few dishes together while darkness fell outside. “It seems early for it to be getting dark.” He walked to the open front door and breathed the clean, rain-sweet air.

  “Is it still raining?”

  He stepped away from the cabin far enough to see around the church. “Not at the moment, but there’s lightning to the southwest. I’m afraid we’re in for more emptying buckets later tonight.” He laughed at her exaggerated groan.

  “When will we baptize Robbie?”

  Her question surprised him, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he hadn’t thought of it. “After the threat of contagion is past.”

  “Doc said there were no new cases today, which is hopeful.”

  “It is.” Another distant rumble of thunder had him checking outside. “There’s more coming. I can see lightning to the southwest. I should go check on the church and catch some sleep while I can. I’ll come back in time for supper. And when the rain starts.”

  “You can stay here tonight.”

  James started to toss back a teasing remark but realized she was serious. “Esther, I don’t think—”

  “James, I can’t handle the buckets and Robbie alone. I see no good reason that you should get soaked again and again going back and forth.”

  “I don’t think it will be dry enough on the f
loor for a bedroll.”

  “Then we can share the bed.” Her cheeks showed the blush, even in the low light. “I’m a widow, not an innocent. Besides, I don’t need much room, and Robbie can sleep between us.”

  “Like an honorable knight’s sword?”

  One corner of her mouth curved. “But he’ll complain a lot louder if you roll over on him.”

  James knew there had to be lots of reasons this was a bad idea, but he couldn’t come up with one. “All right, I’ll stay. But just for tonight.” He knew, if word got out—and it would—he could explain staying through the storm, but any longer than that and they’d have to marry.

  And why didn’t he mind that idea at all?

  Once the decision was made, the evening seemed to pass swiftly. They chatted about hurricanes and tornados, the citizens of King’s Ford, and Tad and his mother. Supper was late, but neither minded. While she fed Robbie and settled him for the night, he lit a lantern and checked the church and grounds. He stepped back into the cabin just ahead of the next rain squall. “You did a wonderful job of preparing for the storms. There’s not a thing out of place beyond some branches and leaves.”

  “Is the cemetery all right?”

  “It was too dark to see that far, and the rain arrived before I could walk up there. I’ll check in the morning.”

  They emptied buckets through two more rains, then went to bed, one on each side of Robbie. Neither bothered to change into night clothes since they’d have to get up again soon.

  In spite of the temptation of Esther only a few inches away, James fell asleep almost before his head settled on the pillow.

  Esther listened as his breathing evened out and sleep claimed him. She should be sleeping, too, but the sensation of the mattress dipping as James climbed into the bed was still vibrating deep inside. Every time Claude got into bed, he would roll on top of her in one motion and set about satisfying himself. The only times she could stop him was when she was indisposed. She learned early in their marriage that there was nothing remarkable about the act of procreating.

  But when James had carefully settled on top of the blankets, being sure Robbie was safe, something felt different. It wasn’t just because he wasn’t her husband. It was his care. He showed her in many ways through the day that she mattered. That she deserved consideration.

  She slipped into sleep smiling and wondering what it would be like to wake up to James. Not just tomorrow, but every morning.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bird song woke her along with a fresh, almost cool breeze. The sun was barely up, but she felt rested. Sitting up, she brushed strands of hair from her face. The back door and the window were open, letting the rain-cleansed air into the cabin. But there was no James. The indentation of his head on the pillow and the mattress were there, so she hadn’t dreamed it. James had slept in the bed last night.

  Esther frowned when she realized Robbie wasn’t beside her or in his bassinet. She remembered feeding him at some point after the last round of rain and buckets, but she wasn’t sure how long ago that was. Smoothing the covers into place, she changed clothes and splashed water on her face, brushed her hair and arranged it into a smooth knot, but before she could go search for them, she heard someone call a greeting.

  “Morning, Reverend. Everything all right at the church?”

  “Just fine, Mr. Owens. Did your place fare well through the storms?”

  “Lost that big tree Rachel is so fond of, but it didn’t hit anything on the way down. Is that the foundling left in your care?”

  “It is. Meet Robbie Hathaway. Mrs. Travers asked me to look after him while she prepared breakfast, so I took him on a tour of the sanctuary.”

  “Mrs. Travers? Is that the wet nurse Doc found?”

  “She has been kind enough to care for Robbie, though she mourns the very recent loss of her own daughter in childbirth.”

  “She’s staying here?”

  “At Doctor Finney’s insistence. I’m sleeping in the church for the time being. I join Mrs. Travers and Robbie for meals.”

  Esther didn’t hear his response as, she assumed, Mr. Owens moved close enough to not need to shout. Would the townspeople make trouble for James because she was staying here? “That’s a problem for another day, Esther Jane,” she lectured herself. “There’s work to be done.”

  Moving quickly, she sliced ham into the skillet and put it on the stove. She stared in surprise when she realized the fire had been lit and the coffee pot stood full of water, waiting for her to grind the beans and put it on the heat, which she did right away. How had she slept through all of that?

  While she waited for the ham to begin sizzling, she put the coffee pot over the fire then visited the outhouse, grateful James and Mr. Owens were out of sight. Returning to the cabin, she ground coffee beans, dumped them into now boiling water. She found a basket with a half a dozen eggs just outside the back door. Had someone dropped them off this morning? Had they seen him coming out of the cabin? Is that why Mr. Owens was here?

  With the ham on a plate on a warm part of the stove, all that remained was to fry the eggs, but she didn’t want to start them until James was here. Should she go looking for him? Why not? Mr. Owens already knew she was here. “Might as well face the man head on,” she muttered.

  Stepping out the front door, she squinted against the brilliant sunlight. “Reverend Hathaway,” she called out, though she knew he stood at the steps to the church and would see her. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

  “My thanks, Mrs. Travers.” She heard his steps come closer until his tall frame blocked the sun. “Have you met Mr. Owens? He owns the bank.”

  “How do you do, ma’am?” He stepped up to shake the hand she offered, his thickening middle leading the way. “My sincere condolences on your loss.” His tone belied his words. She had the distinct feeling he really didn’t care. “But the little tyke here is benefitting from your presence.” He tickled Robbie under the chin. “The Lord knew what He was doing when he led you to our little piece of paradise.”

  The stab of loss shook her, but she kept her smile in place. “I’m grateful to have found my way here, sir.”

  “Well, I must be on my way. There’s business to conduct. Reverend, we’ll see you in church. Mrs. Travers.” He gave her an odd look, tipped his hat and hurried away toward the center of town.

  Pain flashed over into fury. How dare that man dismiss her daughter like that, as if one child was the same as another? Esther took Robbie from James, needing to feel his chubby little body in her arms. Kissing his fuzz of blond hair, she went inside, not caring if James followed or stayed outside and went hungry.

  James followed her in and left the cabin door open in a wasted attempt to save her reputation. She knew from bitter experience that men like Orland Owens would believe what they wanted and others would listen. The bedframe creaked as she settled behind the curtain to nurse Robbie.

  Owens hadn’t stopped by the church to see if there was damage. He knew she was staying at the parsonage and came to try and trap them. To him, she was a wet nurse of another woman’s baby, not a mother in her own right. She ached all over with missing Emma.

  “Should I reheat the skillet for the eggs? Esther?” His voice came from just beyond the curtain.

  “I don’t care.”

  “You have to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Esther, please come to the table.”

  Knowing she couldn’t avoid him, she straightened her dress and burped Robbie.

  James waited just outside the enclosure. “You’ve been crying. I’m sorry Mr. Owens upset--”

  “That horrible man.” She dashed fresh tears from her cheeks with the back of her free hand. “How could he act like my only purpose was feeding your son? Like my Emma was unimportant?”

  “I’m sorry. Mr. Owens has appointed himself mayor, since the people of King’s Ford haven’t yet seen the wisdom in creating the position and electing him to serve. He’s been a
thorn in my side since I came here.”

  “He’s going to make trouble, isn’t he?”

  James considered, just for an instant, lying to her, but he wouldn’t do that. “He might. He doesn’t believe a preacher should be a bachelor, regardless of the circumstances. He’s been vocal about his distrust of any man of God without a wife from the moment I arrived in King’s Ford. Probably before.” He dipped a ladle of cold water into the coffee pot to help the grounds sink to the bottom. “I was told the vote to call me here was not unanimous. I suspect Orland Owens was that dissenting voice.”

  “Will he try to force us to marry?”

  The tense set of his shoulders spoke volumes. “He might.”

  “Then I have to leave, find somewhere else to stay.”

  “There is no other place, not with this influenza.” He came to stand beside her. “Would it be so bad, being married to me?”

  The question surprised her. Would she want to be married to James Hathaway? Nothing but the weight of grief filled her heart. “I survived one loveless marriage. I won’t do that again.” She handed Robbie to James and went to finish breakfast.

  James returned from the church with a fussy baby. “Be patient, little one. Truth be told, I’m a bit hungry, too.” But Esther wasn’t in the parsonage. He waited several minutes, hoping she was in the necessary, while the baby’s cries grew more insistent. When she still didn’t return, he tried to figure out what to do to calm the baby. Since he wasn’t smelling fresh and clean, James changed his diaper. Or tried to. No one had taught him how to handle a kicking, screaming child.

  His first attempt slid off the moment he picked Robbie up. Trying again, he got the diaper to stay in place, though it wasn’t going to stay that way for long. “Well, little man. I think I need some lessons. I’ve been relying on Mrs. Travers but that won’t do.” He didn’t add that she may not stay.

  It was too hot to add a blanket to cover Robbie, so James dug up the knitted wool diaper that Mrs. Meier had called a soaker. “Now. Food.” Opening a can of the condensed milk he’d purchased the day Robbie had come into his life proved impossible with a squirming infant in his arms. “How does she do this?” He tried laying Robbie in his bassinet, but he only screamed louder. Gritting his teeth against the racket, James left him long enough to poked two holes in the top of the can, rinsed out the feeding bottle and poured in half the contents along with some water to thin it out. Hoping it would appease the little guy, he scooped Robbie out of his basket and settled on the bed with him cradled in his arms.