What Frees the Heart

by Karen A. Wyle

  The preacher had the surprising good sense not to say a word when Tom walked in, though he glared plenty, and his sermon went on and on about impious and prideful sinners getting their fiery comeuppance. Tom fidgeted enough that Ma poked him in the shoulder to settle him down. When they were finally let to leave, he paced back and forth, waiting for Ma and Pa and Doc to make it out the door, and then told Pa, “I’ll go with Doc to get Jenny.” He didn’t want to maybe see the wagon before Doc and Jenny got there, nor to stand around Stewart’s place waiting and looking antsy. They’d show up and see it together.

  Doc must’ve stopped by before church to let Mamie know, because Jenny was standing out front when he and Doc got there, bouncing on her toes, her face brighter’n morning. She ran up and took his hand, not even looking around for who might see, and he grabbed it, not even caring. Doc chuckled and followed them to the buggy.

  It didn’t take long, nor even feel long, before they pulled up in Stewart’s yard. Tom didn’t see any wagon yet, but he did see Mr. Stewart and Pa and the others who’d done the work, all standing over by the barn. Even Tom’s little brother was there. It was the first he’d known of Billy helping. Billy must have kept it a secret on purpose, just so’s he could stand there grinning and sticking his thin chest out in pride.

  Tom hurried over the rough dirt of the yard, Jenny right behind and Doc following after. The doors of the barn were open wide, and just inside, where the morning light could reach, stood a wagon smarter’n any he’d seen or heard tell of. It wasn’t as showy as Mr. Jed’s, but it had trim painted green, and shutters on one side to let light in, and all the wood and canvas was new as new.

  Pa pointed to a framed space on the side. “You can nail up some leather here, to show off your work. Maybe in the shape of a saddle skirt. And the same on the other side. And there’s a hook at the back to hang a pair of boots on, but you’ll have to remember to take ‘em down when it’s fixing to rain or snow.”

  Billy stood tall and pointed to the trim. “I helped paint that, almost all the way up!”

  Tom looked from end to end of the wagon, taking it all in. “I don’t know what to say. This is — well, thank you all. We’re awful grateful.”

  Jenny craned forward. “Can we look inside?”

  Pa and the other men looked at each other, puzzled. Stewart finally said, “I guess so — but what for?”

  * * * * *

  Jenny didn’t pay much mind to what the farmer was saying, except that it amounted to “yes.” She fair ran up to the back of the wagon, which had the flap folded back, and leaned in to look inside.

  What there was inside was nothing. No benches. No bed.

  She turned around and wrinkled up her forehead at Tom. “Isn’t it finished, after all?”

  Tom was opening and closing his fists, and his face was kind of flushed. “It’s as finished as it’s going to get.”

  Doc Gibbs made his way through the farmers to join Jenny. “I suspect I know what’s confusing you. You were expecting to see furnishings inside? Perhaps a bed?”

  Jenny’s jaw dropped. Well, yes, she’d sort of been expecting they would sleep sometime on their journey across half the country. And maybe even sleep together, seeing as they’d be newlyweds! . . . But she realized she must be looking quite a fool with her mouth hanging open, and pulled herself together to nod.

  The farmer that looked a lot like Tom — must be his pa — said, “Miss Jenny, there’s only so much room in that there wagon. It ain’t exactly a furnished room on wheels. And all your belongings’ll need to fit inside it, including Tom’s tools and spare leather and all. Back when this wagon was new, them as used it slept underneath.”

  Damn it if her lip wasn’t quivering, and for all these folks to see.

  Doc put his long-fingered hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re still getting used to all of this. But you can put quilts down, to sleep in the wagon. If you do sleep underneath some nights, you can put a tarp under the quilts. You’ll get used to it sooner than you imagine.”

  Tom muscled forward and stood looking at her, not mad now, more like pleading. “And we don’t need to carry all that much. It’s not like we was settlers bringing a farm’s worth of stuff with us. So we can maybe put in benches like what Mr. Jed’s wagon has, for you to sit on when you don’t feel like sitting up where I’m driving.”

  One of the other farmers said, “We’ve put in those new leaf springs, so you won’t be jostled so much.” He looked around at some of the others. “Not like our families were, coming west.”

  Jenny felt herself bristling. So she was a soft, complaining sort next to their families, he was saying. Well, maybe so, but she was giving up a big soft bed and pillows, and a dressing table, and dresses to wear —

  What was she thinking? She was giving up all as came with being a whore. She’d been wearing those dresses so men she didn’t know could stare at her bosom and her legs. And sleeping in that bed after doing everything but sleep in it. And looking in that dressing table so she could make sure she was pretty enough for men to buy. And here she was getting ready to gripe about where and how she was going to lie with Tom, and only him?

  Jenny went to stand right by Tom’s side. “It’s fine. I’m sure those quilts’ll be right comfy.”

  Here all these folks who had put in so much work were standing around, and unlike Tom, she hadn’t so much as said thank you. And whatever they were thinking of her just now, she owed ‘em that. She curtsied, as pretty as if some high-class gentleman had come into a room, and said, “Like Tom said just now, we’re very grateful. Thank you all.”

  But that wasn’t enough, was it. She should’ve known better. Mamie’d seen it coming, somehow, and when would Jenny get to be as smart as Mamie, or would she ever?

  “And I’m sorry about how I acted. I’ve got a lot to learn, and I’m ready to learn it.”

  All the men, Tom included, and even Billy, relaxed enough so she could see how tensed up they’d been. Mr. Stewart did the answering for them all. “That’s quite all right, little lady. I reckon you’ll do just fine.”

  * * * * *

  Tom waited for Jenny to be talking to Doc and then went over to Pa. “I hate to be always needing something else, but does Ma have enough quilts to let us have any?”

  Pa sent a fond look Ma’s way, though she was busy with Mrs. Stewart, unpacking a basket she’d brought in the wagon and setting up dinner, and didn’t see. “Ma has that well in hand, son. She already had one she’d made for you, years back, for whenever you set up housekeeping, and she’d started another for Martha, which she could let you have since Martha won’t be needing one for years yet. She’s set up some quilting bees to get that one finished sooner. The ladies are plenty tickled to get their turn, with all the men so full of themselves for how the wagon come out.”

  Tom gulped. “But we’ve waited so long already —”

  Pa cleared his throat in that way that meant Tom needed to hush up and listen. “Your ma needs to do this for you. She needs to do something for you while you’re here to be fussed over, before she says goodbye like she’ll have to. You’ll need patience in the life you’re planning, and you can just practice it.”

  Tom couldn’t stop the sigh that gusted out of him, but he knew Pa was right. “Yes, sir. We’ll wait.”

  If they were stuck in Cowbird Creek for even longer, he was going to stop worrying about him and Jenny being seen together in public.

  He got Finch to allow him some time off after dinner the next day, in exchange for working late, now that he’d got no more leatherwork of his own to do. After, he realized he’d forgot about the saddle-shaped leather for the sides of the wagon. But he could do that later.

  When he got to Mamie’s, he had to wait — more waiting! — for Jenny to finish washing dinner dishes. And when he explained he wanted to squire her around town, he had to talk her into it, and then wait again for her to change out of the dress she’d been wearing for her kitchen work. Once they
were out on the street, she looked at him with her back kind of tense, even though she was smiling, and asked, “Where are we going, then?”

  “How about the ice cream shop? We can split a sundae.”

  She took his arm. “Ice cream it is, then, Mr. Barlow.”

  He grinned. “Glad to hear it, future Mrs. Barlow.” He kept her arm in his as they headed for the shop, and even as he ordered their sundae, until the minute they sat down together. He almost forgot to keep eating, though, along of watching how much she enjoyed the treat. She had to remind him his ice cream was melting.

  He was walking her back, arm in arm again, and starting to think about what he’d do on that leather piece once he had time, when a fellow Tom didn’t remember seeing before swaggered up and spat tobacco juice on the ground right in front of them. “So Madam Mamie’s sending her girls out on the street with fellers now, bold as brass? When’s my turn, pretty lady? I’ll show you a good time — better’n this one-legged fellow, you can bet on that!”

  Jenny had gone real stiff alongside him. Should he defend her honor? Or do like that one-legged soldier had said, and walk away if he could?

  * * * * *

  Was Tom thinking of fighting that man? Did he think that’s what she wanted?

  Well, to be honest, she would’ve liked to think he could. But she sure didn’t want him getting beat up on her account. She tugged at his arm. “Let’s just go back. Please!”

  Tom’s jaw was set hard as stone. He stared at the fellow for what seemed an hour, and then said, “I don’t need to fight you. So I won’t.”

  The man jeered, “You sure won’t, ‘cause you can’t, you cripple, you!” He spat again. “Now push that girl on over to me, so’s I can have my turn.”

  Jenny’s mouth was dry, or she’d have spat back. “No one’s taking turns with me, mister, ever again. So you can just keep that nasty tongue in your head and go on about your business.”

  The man had been doing something between grinning and leering, but now he showed his teeth in a snarl. “That’s enough out of you, you little tramp!”

  He reached for her arm. Tom shoved her behind him and stood with his fists clenched. The man stared and then started laughing. “Oh, you ask for it that hard, I’m gonna give it to you.” He made a fist and swung.

  Real quick, Tom dropped down to the ground, hitting it with his hands and knee. For a moment she thought the man had knocked him down, but no, it happened too quick for that. And then, even quicker, Tom lunged at the man’s legs and somehow pulled them out from under him. And then he was astraddle the man’s chest, punching his head with one hand and holding the man’s right arm with the other.

  A crowd had come from somewhere, like always happened when men got to fighting. Catcalls and whistles almost drowned out the sickening sound of a fist meeting flesh. Jenny ran toward the two of them on the ground. “Tom, stop, that’s enough!”

  The blacksmith came up next to Tom and grabbed the arm Tom was punching with. He looked down at the fellow on the ground, whose mouth was swollen and bleeding, and had a black eye coming. “The young lady’s right, don’t you think? You’ve made your point, I reckon.”

  Tom slowly climbed off the man and let the blacksmith help him to his feet. He faced Jenny, breathing hard, and said, “I didn’t fight ‘til I had to. You saw that.”

  Jenny put her arms around him, right there in the street with all those men watching, and murmured in his ear, “I did. I’m glad you didn’t let him goad you sooner — and I’m glad you can fight when it counts.” She drew back in time to see him smile and swagger a little. “However did you learn to do that?”

  He took her arm again. “Let’s go our way, and I’ll tell you all about it.

  * * * * *

  It was full dark and getting colder out by the time Tom dropped Jenny off and passed Doc’s house, but Doc was sitting on the step even so. He came to meet Tom, looking serious, and said, “I’ve got some news. I can’t say it’s surprising, but you need to know it.”

  Tom nodded, then stood there wishing it was easier for him to shift from foot to foot to warm up. You didn’t care about little things like that until you couldn’t do them. Luckily Doc went back up the steps and opened the door. “If you have a moment, why don’t we talk about it inside. Clara’s made hot cider that’d go down nicely, and we’ve got some shortbread to go with it.”

  Tom gladly followed Doc in. Clara, sitting in an easy chair, smiled up at him kinda weakly. “Welcome, Tom. I’d get up and greet you, but that’s a major undertaking just now. Joshua knows where everything is.”

  Once they were sitting at the kitchen table with plates of shortbread and steaming mugs of cider, Doc waited until Tom had taken some of each and then said, “I talked to the preacher yesterday about the wedding.”

  The shortbread went dry in Tom’s mouth. He took a gulp of cider, burning his throat. “He won’t marry us, will he. I reckon I should’ve gone and apologized before this.”

  Doc looked about as grim as he was able. “Frankly, Tom, I doubt it would’ve made any difference. Oh, he might have taken less relish in refusing if you’d gone to him. But to be fair, he genuinely believes your marrying Jenny will take you away from the path of the blessed and he’d be failing in his duty to further it.”

  Tom set his mug down, harder than he should’ve. “Well, then, we’ll just leave town and get married later. Somewhere no one knows us and our stories.” Jenny mightn’t like it, what with all her new resolutions, but she’d do it for him, and to get their lives started.

  Doc fetched the cider pitcher, and filled up both their mugs. “That’s always an option, but I hope we can do better. Jedidiah is ready to hit the road again, though Freida will stay behind with us. He’ll go to Rushing first and talk to the preacher there. And if that one won’t assist us, he’ll try farther afield.” He looked close at Tom and must have read his mind. “I’d go myself, for whatever that would add to the chances for success, but Clara’s time is upon us.”

  Tom made himself smile. “Don’t fret about it, Doc. Of course you should be here — and Mr. Jed is a mighty persuasive fellow. He’ll get us a preacher if there’s one to be got.”

  He drank a little more cider to be polite and then excused himself. Time to head on home and tell Ma and Pa.

  Ma did some hand-wringing and lamenting, which Tom knew to expect and tried not to mind. Pa just grunted and stroked his beard. After a while he said, “Well, we’ll hope for the best from Mr. Jed’s efforts, and bide ‘til we know.”

  Ma had gone quiet and seemed to be working up to something. When both Pa and Tom looked at her with their eyebrows up, she looked away before meeting their eyes and saying slowly, “With as long as all this is taking, I do believe it’s time your Jenny had somewhere else to stay. We should have her here until the wedding. Assuming she’d like to come.”

  Pa edged her way and said, kind of quiet, “Hon, you sure you’re all right with her being around Martha like that?”

  Tom interrupted in spite of it maybe being disrespectful. “Jenny wouldn’t do or say nothing to shock Martha or — or tell her anything she shouldn’t know. I’m sure of it.” Which he almost was. Jenny wouldn’t do anything like that on purpose. And she was mighty bright — she’d probably know what not to say.

  Ma had her determined look on. “It’s the right thing to do, and we’re going to do it. Jenny is going to be part of this family, and everyone can just know it and get used to it.” She loosened up enough to give Tom a softer look. “Including Jenny, who might find it hardest to credit.”

  “Very well, Ma,” said Pa. “Tom, you can leave word on your way to work tomorrow, so she’ll have time to pack up and say her goodbyes, and then bring her home with you in the evening, assuming she don’t object.”

  Tom couldn’t talk for the lump in his throat. He just went to Ma and gave her the biggest hug he could, and shook Pa’s hand, and went to the kitchen to grab himself a bite of supper before bed.


  Where he lay awake, thinking of Jenny under this very roof come tomorrow evening.

  * * * * *

  Jenny had been learning to rise earlier, now that she had breakfast to help fix, but Mamie still had to shake her awake some mornings. When Mamie knocked and came on in, Jenny’s first thought was that it must be later than she’d figured. But Mamie didn’t bustle around tossing her clothes at her and lecturing. Instead, she stood leaning against the door frame, just waiting for Jenny to attend to her.

  Finally, when Jenny had got out of bed and was standing there fidgeting, she said, “I’ve got some news for you, and you might find it frazzle your nerves at first. But it’s good news. Real good.”

  Chapter 27

  The cardboard case she’d had when she first landed on Mamie’s doorstep hadn’t been worth keeping. Some girls had come with proper trunks, but there was no saying when they might want ‘em again. Mamie brought a suitcase for her to use, and didn’t say where she got it. Jenny had a sad notion it might have been Amanda Jane’s, but she didn’t ask.

  Not that she had that much to pack. Bessie was good with her needle and had helped Jenny make over some of her dresses so they’d be decent. Jenny was partway done with a brand new dress to wear on the road, out of sturdy fabric as would stand up to use and rough scrubbing, and she packed that to work on at Tom’s place. She likely wouldn’t have call to be wearing any paint, but she took a little just in case. Cook surprised her with a spare apron, clean and looking almost new.

  Way back when Jenny was little, Mama had given her a silver-backed brush and comb from her grandma, and she’d kept it with her since, even when she’d have done better to pawn it. She packed that last of all.

  Mamie called Jenny into her office when it got to be almost time for Tom to show. “You make sure and treat Tom’s folks respectful. It’s a good thing you’ve been working with Cook — you can be of some help in the kitchen. Make sure you offer, and not just with that. There’ll be plenty you can do if you pay attention and follow his ma’s lead.”