To Rise Above

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To Rise Above Page 13

by Jones, Julianne


  “I certainly would. However,” he gave a short laugh, “I doubt that my pocket would ever stretch that far. He is certainly magnificent,” he added almost under his breath as he turned his gaze once more toward the horse.

  “You can take him for a ride if you like.”

  “No, no, I couldn’t do that,” Samuel protested.

  “And why not?”

  “He’s your horse. I’d be afraid of hurting him.”

  The big man laughed. “You can ride can’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, here you go,” and before Samuel knew it he had practically been dumped in the saddle. The magistrate handed the reins to Samuel. “Take him for a ride. A long ride. I insist.”

  Tentatively Samuel started taking the horse through its paces within the roughly marked out paddock. Impatiently the police magistrate took hold of the horse’s bridle and led horse and rider toward the gate.

  “I said a long ride and I meant it. Now get!” His hand came down on the horse’s rump for emphasis.

  It had been years – if ever – since Samuel had ridden such a fine specimen of horseflesh. He had almost forgotten what it was like to sit a horse that responded to his every move and mood. Within a few minutes they were away from the small township and heading in the direction of the towering forest that even yet the cedar getters had not penetrated with the axe.

  One with the horse, Samuel rode on, forgetting time and place and landmarks. Suddenly he realised that he no longer knew where he was. Drawing the horse in he looked around guiltily. He should never have ridden so far. Surely his host hadn’t expected him to be gone this long.

  Spying a track, he gingerly led the horse that way. He was just beginning to think that he would have to turn back for the track had become almost too narrow for him to pass, when he saw a small hut nestled beneath the towering trees.

  Tethering his horse, he approached the door but as he was about to lift his arm to knock he heard crying and arguing. He debated whether or not to just leave, but he was lost and really there was nothing for it but to ask directions.

  Lifting his hand he knocked once and waited. Suddenly the door was opened just enough for him to be able to view a large hand and a bearded face.

  “Go away!”

  Taken aback by the man’s rudeness Samuel was nevertheless about to explain that he was lost when fresh crying burst from someone inside the hut.

  “Someone’s hurt,” Samuel exclaimed.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Perhaps I could help?”

  “We don’t want your help. Go away!”

  As the man was about to push the door closed, Samuel caught a glimpse of a young girl in the corner crying.

  “Let me help.”

  “I said –” but Samuel had pushed past the man and made his way to the girl. One look at her bruised and bloodied face and his heart went cold. What had he walked into?

  “It’s coming,” she moaned.

  Samuel looked at her questioningly then turned in time to see the man stalk from the hut. He turned his attention back to the girl who couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen.

  “What’s coming?”

  “The baby.”

  Glancing down he was not able to discern any sign that the girl was with child.

  “Early?” he questioned.

  The girl moaned and shook her head. “No. That’s how Papa found out. When the pains started.”

  “Here, let me help you to the bed.” Gently he lifted her and held on to her as he led her over to the bed in the corner. He pulled back the covers and grimaced when he saw the state of the linens. Obviously whoever usually slept in this bed didn’t believe in washing his – or her – body or bed linens regularly.

  “Papa’s bed. He’ll –” the girl gasped as Samuel lowered her to the bed and clutched at her middle. “It’s – it’s – coming – now.”

  Quickly Samuel rolled up his sleeves and looked for some place to wash his hands but he couldn’t find a single receptacle that looked as if it was remotely connected with the practice of personal hygiene. Silently he offered up a prayer. They never taught us about this in college, he thought to himself wryly. I just hope I know what to do.

  “I’m sorry,” the girl whispered. “I didn’t know it was wrong. I just – I just wanted to be loved.”

  Samuel nodded. There was a commotion behind him and he turned to find the girl’s father with a gun in his hands.

  “Get out.”

  Samuel remained calm as he responded, “I will as soon as the babe’s born. Which won’t be long. She’s about ready to deliver.”

  The man raised the gun. “Step away from me daughter right now or I shoot.”

  Katie paused in her task of folding the household linen. All day Samuel had been on her mind but now it was almost as if he was standing with her in the same room asking her to pray. With shaking hands she put down the unfolded sheet, and bowed her head.

  Rhiannon’s Journal

  November 3, 1830

  I don’t know what to make of this but I’m writing it down because when I read it in my Bible this morning I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It’s from Isaiah forty and verse thirty-one:

  But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

  Now what am I to think of that? I want to believe with all my heart that God will heal me but when I look down at my legs and see the wasted muscles I have no faith. No faith at all. Perhaps God doesn’t intend it in a physical sense and yet I can’t see how I am to rise above this affliction if it means never being able to walk. Mother talks about having an attitude above our daily circumstances but she can walk! I wonder if she would say the same if she was the one stuck in a chair? But that’s not fair. I have seen how deep Mother’s faith is and she would probably accept it. But I can’t accept it. This is the worst thing that could happen to anyone and how can I be expected to rise above it?

  And yet I want to renew my strength, I want to mount up with wings as eagles … but only if it means that I’ll be able to walk and run again. Anything else I don’t even want to consider.

  Samuel’s hands were shaking but he refused to let the man see his fear.

  “Your daughter needs my help. I’ll go as soon as –”

  “Papa!” the cry was torn from the girl’s mouth and at the same time was joined by that of another but distinctly different cry. Momentarily taken aback, the man turned his attention to his daughter and then to the babe now lying between its mother’s legs.

  The man swung back to Samuel, his gun aimed at Samuel’s chest.

  “Get out.” It was a growl.

  Samuel quickly cut the cord and looked at the girl. To his horror he saw that she was dead. There was nothing he could do for her now.

  “What about the baby?”

  “Take it and get out.”

  Samuel was about to argue but realised it would be fruitless. Besides, the gun was still trained on his chest. Scooping the baby up in his arms he held it close to his body until he was outside the hut. Awkwardly he removed his coat with one hand and wrapped it securely around the baby. It was even more awkward to mount the horse one-handed but he somehow managed it and started to slowly pick his way back down the track.

  When he reached the spot where he had turned onto the track at the point where he had thought he was lost, he shook his head in amazement. Of course he knew where he was. Why had he not realised it earlier? As he started homeward, he wondered if perhaps God had blinded him for a moment if only to give some comfort to a young girl whose time on earth was about to end.

  Sadness filled him as he looked down at the baby asleep in his arms and wondered what he was going to do. And how was he going to explain this?

  When Samuel finally rode into the paddock, the police magistrate’s mouth dropped when he saw what he held in his arms. S
amuel gave a wry smile before allowing the man to take the baby from him so that he could dismount. Quickly he filled the man in on his little adventure.

  “Lives in a hut in the bush, you say? I don’t know of any that live in any hut out that way but of course it’s a big area. Could be one of the cedar getters. Or perhaps an escaped convict. Whoever it is, he obviously doesn’t come into town that often – if at all. I suppose we’ll have to look after the child until something can be figured out. The wife won’t mind too much although her health isn’t good at present. Unless of course you want to take it?”

  Samuel shrugged. “I could take it – him – home until something can be arranged.”

  “The wife has some baby things that you could borrow.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “I’ll get her to collect them up for you and one of the lads will bring them up to your cottage.”

  “Once again, I appreciate it, sir.”

  “And I could enquire about a wet nurse too if you’re planning on keeping that baby more than a few days.”

  Samuel nodded. He suddenly felt very much out of his depth – even more than he had when he’d been called upon to assist in the birthing.

  The man chuckled. “Never thought that when I lent you my horse that you’d bring a baby back. Wonders will never cease!”

  As Samuel climbed the hill to his house he was surprised but thankful that he had made it home without anyone seeing him. He really didn’t want to have to explain why he was carrying a baby wrapped in nothing but his coat. Give him a day or two to digest what had happened and then he might be ready to discuss it. But then again, maybe he wouldn’t. He still couldn’t believe that this had happened and to him of all people.

  Entering his house he called for Mark and had to laugh when his friend appeared and gaped at him.

  “It’s a baby. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

  “I know it’s a baby. But what are you doing with it?”

  Quickly Samuel once again related his tale.

  “And you’re sure the mother’s dead?”

  “Sadly, yes. I think it may have been more than just the labour though. She could’ve had other internal injuries. From a beating.”

  “A beating?” Mark looked closely at him then closed his eyes. “Why does mankind treat each other so abominably?”

  “I don’t know. And yet I do. I guess we shouldn’t expect anything more of Adam’s race.”

  The two were silent as they gazed at the tiny scrap of humanity in front of them. Apart from that first sound at the moment of birth he had not cried and Samuel wondered anxiously if the baby had also suffered some kind of harm.

  “Do you still have the horse?” Mark asked unexpectedly.

  Samuel looked puzzled. “No. Why?”

  “You had a visitor while you were out.”

  Samuel frowned. “Now is not the time. He – or she – will just have to wait.”

  Mark rose and made his way toward the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Your good friend the doctor was here. He’ll know what to do.”

  “Doctor? You mean Doctor Sanford? He was here?” But Mark had already gone.

  Rhiannon’s Journal

  November 5, 1830

  I’ve been thinking about what I wrote a few days ago. I know that Mother could overcome such circumstances because of her faith. Katie too most likely. Why is it then that I’m struggling so much with this? Is it because I want to wallow in self-pity? Do I want to be miserable? It’s almost as if God is giving me a choice: look to myself and be miserable or look to Him and rise above my circumstances. Even if I never walk again I am a person. I am still me. I may not be able to do the things I once did but I am still me. I still think and feel. Only … it will take such a lot of effort to stop feeling sorry for myself and realise that I can have something to offer.

  And I have to ask: did God intend this verse as a promise for me? And if so, is it meant solely in a spiritual sense or is it a physical promise too?

  I wish I knew.

  When the doctor arrived at the cottage, Samuel found himself yet again relating his tale. Finishing up he asked, “Would you like the baby, sir? After all, you’ve already adopted Seamus.”

  The doctor chuckled. “I’ve already brought two babies home to my wife. If I were to bring another, I think she might become suspicious.”

  The other men laughed. “It does seem to be once too often to be a coincidence.”

  “And yet –” the doctor sighed, “another son would be wonderful. Two boys to match our two girls. We’re adopting Katie,” he explained, realising that the other two men would not have yet heard. “A young one for Seamus would be just the play mate for him in a year or two. But,” and his face clouded, “my wife has been hurt by the man claiming to be Seamus’s father trying to take him from us. I can’t risk that happening again.”

  “But if you were able to adopt the baby outright? If the girl’s father – the grandfather – gave permission?”

  Samuel looked at his friend Mark in surprise. “I don’t know if that would happen.”

  “We don’t know that it won’t,” Mark countered.

  The doctor looked from one face to the other. “I would have to be certain that he could never be taken from us. And my wife would have to agree first. No taking a baby home in the hope that she would understand. It’s too much to ask of her a third time.”

  Samuel nodded then looked at the baby sleeping in the bottom drawer of his tallboy. “What shall we do with him? I can’t care for a baby. I guess I just have to look for a woman –”

  Mark cleared his throat. “I can care for him.”

  “You?”

  “Why not? If a wet nurse can be found to come in and feed him why can’t I care for him the rest of the time? After all, perhaps I’m here for such a time as this.”

  “Maybe.” Samuel looked unconvinced.

  The doctor closed his eyes and lent back in his chair. “If the wet nurse – if such a person can be found – could care for him in her own home – at least during the day – then it could work. And perhaps when I return we may be able to take him into our home after all.”

  Samuel slapped his head. “My apologies doctor. I’ve not even asked you the reason of your visit.”

  “It’s simple. We’re thinking of relocating.”

  “Relocating? Am I to understand that you’re planning to return here? To live permanently?”

  “That’s correct. We think Rhiannon is well enough to travel and this has been a dream of mine for a long time. We originally planned on moving to escape Seamus’s supposed father but now that he’s shown himself and has been arrested he’s no longer a concern. But we have decided that we would still like to make the move. That’s why I’ve been here. To find accommodation.”

  “And did you find any?”

  “No. Well that is, nothing suitable. Rhiannon, as you know, cannot walk. Any accommodation would have to suit her needs – and there was nothing. However I’ve chosen land on which to build our home and have made arrangements for building to commence immediately. It should be ready for us to move in by Christmas time.”

  “So soon? And where is this land?”

  “It’s not far from here – on the outskirts of Wallis Plains. We’ll almost be neighbours. What do you think about that?”

  “Nothing could please me more,” Samuel stated.

  “I have a feeling it has more to do with one of my daughters than with my own good self,” the doctor said.

  “Sir?” Samuel’s question was a protest. “I value the friendship of every member of your family.”

  He looked wounded when both the doctor and Mark burst out laughing. When he had finished, the doctor wiped his eyes.

  “Perhaps then you’ll be so good as to put me up for the night – that is if you value our friendship as much as you say you do. I was just wondering where I was going to stay as the
inn is full when Mark here turned up and invited me to your home. I must admit,” as the baby stirred and began crying, “I didn’t expect there to be another guest as well.”

  Samuel smiled and rose to his feet. “You’re most welcome to stay. Especially since your advice on how to care for this baby would be much appreciated.”

  The doctor bowed his head in acknowledgement. “A little boiled water and sugar should suffice for the first few days. Here, let me hold him. Oh, but he is a handsome baby,” and as he gazed on the child his heart was captured and he knew that despite all that he’d just said he wouldn’t be leaving without this child.

  Rhiannon’s Journal

  November 9, 1830

  I can’t believe it’s happened again! It’s ludicrous. It really is. And yet at the same time it’s so very wonderful. Although as Mother said, you would think that Father could be just a little more original.

  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

  This afternoon I was sitting outside in my chair in a sunny part of the garden. I don’t like my chair any more than I did a month ago but it does at least mean I’m not confined to my room all the time. Mother and Katie and Seamus were somewhere inside and Father had not yet returned from Wallis Plains. Father has been away for over a fortnight and we’ve been expecting him any day now for the past week but we certainly didn’t expect him to return in this manner!

  While I was sitting outside lost in my own thoughts (that is, wishing I could walk again), Father suddenly came sneaking around the side of the house like a common criminal! I almost cried out because he gave me such a fright but he held his finger to his lips and I got the message. The next moment he had placed a small bundle in my lap.

 

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