by Karey White
The dirt road they bumped along got narrower and soon it was hard to call it a road. It was more like a wide hiking trail. Smoke and ash darkened the sky and up ahead they could see orange flames rising thirty feet into the tree canopy. The men closed their shrouds and lowered the safety glasses. Adrenalin coursed through Silas’s veins as he and the other firefighters jumped out of the truck.
“Pay attention in there,” shouted Jed to the men, but his eyes were on Silas. “Follow protocol and watch each other’s backs. Don’t let anything happen to any of you.”
Silas nodded, irritated that he was being singled out, even though he knew it was his own fault. Waves of heat slammed into the men as they started up the hill. Silas pushed aside every thought except one. There was a job to do, and Silas couldn’t afford to think about Celia or his crushed hopes.
Days passed and Celia didn’t hear from Silas. At first she had convinced herself it had only been bad timing, and she had blamed it on the wildfires, but as the days passed, she knew things were different. Silas must not have liked her as much as she had thought he did. She had misread things before. There had been many times she had believed her mother would turn things around so Celia could count on her. She had been wrong. She had thought the Hundleys loved her enough to keep her, but they hadn’t. Silas would be one more in a long line of people to let her down, but as she had every other time it had happened, she would pick herself up and forge ahead.
She had no choice.
Silas had been gone to Washington for almost two weeks when Celia jolted awake in the night. At first she thought she must have heard something. She threw back the covers from her damp skin, but as soon as she did, the cool night air chilled her. She listened intently for something that might have interrupted her sleep, but there were no sounds at all. Not even a fan running or a cricket chirping.
And then her abdomen seized as if an arm wrestler had gripped it tightly and slammed it into her spine, and she recognized that this is what had awakened her. She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees up, trying to find a position that relieved the burning cramp. Celia did her best to relax and after a few minutes the pain subsided and she fell back into a restless sleep.
Nancy glanced up from the crossword puzzle she was working on at the table when Celia walked into the kitchen for breakfast. “Celia, are you okay?” Nancy nearly knocked the chair to the floor as she stood from the table and hurried to Celia.
“I didn’t sleep very well.”
“Do you have a fever? You look so pale.” Nancy put the back of her hand on Celia’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”
“I’ll be fine. I probably need to eat.”
“Sit down and I’ll make you something. Do you want eggs? Or oatmeal?”
Nancy guided Celia to the chair across from the one she had been sitting in.
“Thank you. Oatmeal sounds good.” Celia sat at the table while Nancy microwaved a bowl of instant oatmeal and added brown sugar and milk.
Celia had eaten half the bowl when her stomach began to clench painfully. She dropped her spoon in the bowl and leaned over, hugging her abdomen.
“Celia, what is it?” Nancy sounded afraid.
Celia spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m taking you to the doctor.”
All Celia could think about was that she couldn’t let Nancy know about the baby. If Nancy took her to Dr. Vernon, he might let it slip that Celia had been in before. What if Nancy wanted to go with her to the examination room? What if Lacy made it clear she and Celia knew each other?
“I can go myself.”
“Nonsense. I’m going with you. Do you need me to get you anything before we go?” Nancy was already gathering her things. She retrieved her purse off the coffee table and slipped her feet into the sandals she kept by the back door. “Is your bag in your room?”
“It’s hanging on the door.”
Nancy returned with Celia’s bag. She held the door for Celia and within a few minutes, they were in front of Dr. Vernon’s office. Nancy pulled as close to the door as she could. “Can you make it in while I park the car?”
“Yes.” Celia tried to hide her relief as she exited the car and walked into Dr. Vernon’s office.
“Hi, Celia. I don’t remember seeing you on the schedule today.”
Celia walked to the counter and spoke softly. “I don’t have an appointment. I’m having terrible cramps and Nancy brought me in. She’s parking the car.” Celia glanced toward the door. “She doesn’t know. I don’t want her to find out like this.”
Lacy nodded as Nancy entered the waiting room. “All right Miss Edwards. Dr. Vernon is with a patient, but I’ll see if I can work you in.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to wait with me,” Celia said after they chose two seats with a view of the small television in the corner.
“I don’t mind. I don’t have anywhere else to be today.”
The television screen scrolled through health tips and statistics. Celia had learned that more than seventy-three thousand people are diagnosed with skin cancer each year and that antibiotics are not always the answer to childhood ear infections by the time Karen, Dr. Vernon’s nurse, came to the door.
“Celia Edwards?”
“I’ll wait out here for you,” Nancy said.
“Thank you.”
“I’m feeling a hankering for Harrison Ford lately. Want to watch The Fugitive with me tonight? You can take my recliner or the couch. Whichever would be more comfortable.”
“The couch is fine,” Celia said. “You take your chair.”
Nancy had been waiting all day for Celia to open up about her doctor’s appointment. She had hoped this would be the opening Celia needed to tell her about the baby, but Celia’s explanation had been cryptic. “Dr. Vernon says I’m worn down and need to rest. He said it could be stress.”
“Have you been pushing yourself too hard? If the garden and the farmer’s market and working for Ellis is too much, maybe you should think about cutting back.”
“It’s not that.”
“What could be causing stress then if it isn’t all the work you’re doing?” This was her chance to talk about the baby. Nancy knew she had given Celia the perfect opening and she waited eagerly for her to confess. And she did, but not to what Nancy had been expecting.
“Maybe it’s because of Silas.”
“He’s been trained, you know. It’s dangerous work, but it’s rare that something bad happens to one of these guys.”
“It’s not that.” Celia was always so skittish that Nancy was afraid to prod her too much, so she waited for Celia to continue on her own. “I thought... I don’t know. I thought we were friends, but he didn’t even try to see me when he came home.”
In spite of Nancy’s irritation with Celia’s secret, she felt a pang of guilt. She knew why Silas had left, even knew Silas had offered to go out with another unit when the rest of his crew was still taking the days off they had earned. As much as she wanted to blurt out that Silas had left because Celia had kept a secret from him and had led him on, she knew this wasn’t the time for that. No matter how frustrated she was with Celia, she wouldn’t endanger her baby.
“The men are exhausted when they’re fighting fires. I wouldn’t take it personally.”
Celia nodded and turned toward the television. Even though she kept her eyes trained on the movie, Nancy could tell Celia’s thoughts were nowhere near Sisters, and while Nancy thought Harrison Ford was handsome enough to stir a woman’s emotions, she was certain that when Celia wiped a tear from her cheek, it had nothing at all to do with the wrongful conviction of Dr. Richard Kimble.
Nancy folded the empty bank bag and tucked it into her purse.
“Are you still growing that Black Beauty eggplant?” asked Millie Watson, the teller at Oregon National Bank, as she handed Nancy the receipt for the day’s deposit.
“I’m not doing it myself this year. Got a girl
working for me, but yeah. We’ve got some.”
“I need to come by and pick up a few. Those make the best sandwiches.”
“Come by and get some,” Nancy said. “And take a couple to your mom, too.”
“I’ll do that. You have a nice day.”
Nancy was almost across the marble floor of the lobby when Dr. Vernon stepped through the door.
“Nancy Toller.”
“Hi, Sherm. How’ve you been?”
“Can’t stop smiling. How about you?”
Nancy grinned. Sherman Vernon had been using that line for more than thirty years. “I’m fine. Enjoying this nice, sunny day, although I wouldn’t mind a little rain.”
“Probably wishing for a downpour, aren’t you? I’m always at odds with the farmers and gardeners who want to trade in this perfect weather for rain.”
“I always want the water for the garden, but right now I’d like a good cloudburst to help put out all these fires. As long as it doesn’t bring a bunch of lightning with it.”
Sherman looked rueful. “Now you’ve shamed me into hoping for some rain. Of course we need whatever we can get. It seems the whole western United States is ablaze. Is your nephew out there?”
Nancy nodded. “He’s in Washington right now. He’s been there more than two weeks. He’s fighting the Okanogan fire.”
“I hope he gets back soon and safe.”
“Thanks, Sherm. Tell Susan hello.”
Nancy was about to leave when Sherman touched her arm lightly to stop her. “How’s your... I’m not sure what to call her. Is she your boarder?”
“Celia? Yes, she’s my boarder. She’s helping me out with the garden this year in exchange for a place to live.”
“Yes.” The way he said it told Nancy he was already aware of their living arrangement. Why was Sherman asking her questions? Celia had confided more to him than she had to Nancy. It occurred to her that maybe she could catch Sherman off guard and get him to slip with some new information. Maybe she could pretend Celia had already told her about the baby.
“Celia seems to be doing better. You know I brought her in last week. Stress, and exhaustion, and... you know.”
Nancy thought she caught a wary expression, but then it was gone. “Tell her to drink plenty of water. Dehydration’s always a problem in this hot weather.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Sherman paused before he continued. “That’s one brave girl you’ve got there.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going. Susan’s invited her sister’s family for dinner, so if I know what’s good for me, I won’t be late.”
Nancy stood there, surprised at his complimentary remark about Celia, before she recovered and responded. “You’d better get out of here. Have a nice time.”
All evening, Sherman Vernon’s words niggled the edge of her mind. When she had first met Celia, Nancy had had the same reaction. Celia was here alone, far from home, starting a new life in a town full of strangers. But lately those thoughts had been replaced with other, less glowing judgments. Here was a pregnant girl, sneaking away from her life and her commitments, a woman with secrets and ulterior motives. There was nothing courageous about sneaking around and dating people who don’t know about your past.
Which opinions were right? Were Nancy’s conclusions correct or did Sherman know something she didn’t? He had lived up to his responsibility to keep Celia’s secret confidential, and maybe what he had said meant nothing at all, but the thought wouldn’t leave Nancy alone. It poked at her as she watched Celia carry a grocery bag full of Swiss chard in from the garden for dinner. It nagged at her while they loaded the dishwasher. It distracted her as they watched Home and Garden Television.
All her life, Nancy had prided herself on her fairness. She always cheered for the underdog, and even though she wasn’t a particularly religious woman, she had always felt a connection with the story of David and Goliath. She believed everyone deserved the benefit of the doubt, so why had she decided to think the worst about Celia? What was it about Celia’s story that impressed Dr. Vernon enough to make him comment on her bravery?
Nancy looked at Celia. Sometime in the last few minutes, she had fallen asleep, her head on the soft arm of the sofa and her knees tucked up beside her. Even in sleep, her face looked tense and full of worry. She knew of some of the difficulties Celia had endured, but what didn’t she know? An exquisite sadness pierced Nancy’s heart. She didn’t approve of Celia leading on her nephew, and she wanted to protect Silas from carrying around Celia’s baggage the rest of his life, but that didn’t mean she had no heart. How could she be loyal to Silas and keep him from being hurt while still being kind and generous to this lonely girl?
Nancy couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so conflicted.
She turned off the television and gently shook Celia’s arm to awaken her.
Celia flinched and pulled away, a panicked look on her face. “No. Please don’t.”
“Celia, it’s me. Come on, dear. You’ll end up with a terrible kink in your neck if you stay out here.” She reached for Celia’s hand and gently pulled her to a sitting position. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
Celia met Nancy’s gaze, and when she saw it was Nancy, the panic drained away. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good company, am I?”
“You’re fine company. How are you feeling?” She linked her arm through Celia’s and walked her to the bedroom door.
“I’m so tired.” Nancy squeezed Celia’s arm then pushed open the door. Celia turned toward her before she went inside. “Thanks for everything.”
Nancy’s throat was too tight to speak so she nodded and turned away. She had never been much of a crier, but by the time she reached her bedroom door, the tears couldn’t be stopped.
July had been one of the hottest on record and the entire northwest was parched. Three mornings per week, the thirsty ground sucked up the water Celia and Nancy guided into the irrigation ditches that lined the rows of plants. Some mornings Celia watered while the sun crept up over the horizon, so the heat of the day wouldn’t evaporate the water before it could soak the ground surrounding the roots.
Celia carried a box from the shed to the middle of the long, thin Chinese eggplants. When the box was half full, she carried it to the back of Nancy’s pickup, retrieved another box from the shed, and headed to the row of Black Beauties. It wasn’t efficient to fill the boxes halfway, but Dr. Vernon had given her specific instructions that she was to lift less and pace herself. She was doing her best to follow his advice.
In a few hours, she would take the morning’s harvest to the Redmond farmers market, where she would spend the afternoon selling the vegetables she had worked so hard to cultivate.
Nancy stepped out onto the porch when Celia brought the box of dark purple eggplants to the pickup. Celia saw her look at the half-filled boxes, but if she wondered why Celia was wasting so much space, she didn’t mention it. “I’m scrambling some eggs. Would you like any?”
“No thanks. I already ate a bowl of oatmeal.”
Celia carried two small baskets to the tomato section of the garden and knelt down beside the vines, pushing aside the leafy stems to find the ripest ones. She twisted them off the vines the way Nancy had shown her, and carefully placed them in the basket so they wouldn’t bruise. She held one to her nose and took a deep breath. She loved the sweet, acidic smell. She looked across the expanse of green, healthy plants. She had never done something that required so much work and patience and attention, and with each squash and eggplant and tomato she picked, she felt a sense of pride. Almost every evening this week, they had eaten something she had grown. She had never felt so self-sufficient, so accomplished, so productive.
Celia pulled the second basket closer and placed a red and green variegated tomato in the bottom. As she leaned toward the next plant, hummingbird wings flapped inside her belly. The feeling was fleeting, and Celia wondered if she’d imagined it. And then it came again, a barely-there fl
utter from inside her.
She sat down in the dirt and put a gentle hand over the place she’d felt the movement. A dog barked down the street and a potato bug crawled across the ground in front of her, but she held perfectly still and focused on her stomach, hoping she’d feel it again. “Come on little one, I know you’re there. You can do it,” she whispered.
“Celia, what’s wrong?” Nancy’s frightened voice jarred Celia out of her communion with the baby inside her. She turned and watched as Nancy hurried the last few feet to her. “Are you okay?”
Celia nodded.
Nancy leaned over, resting her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. “I thought you fell.”
Celia reached up her hand and Nancy took it. When she spoke, her voice was shaky and uncertain. “Nancy, I really need a friend.”
Nancy knelt down beside her and held Celia’s hand between both of hers. “Oh sweet girl, I know you do. Do you mind if your friend is an old woman?”
Celia sat cross-legged in the corner of the couch and hugged a pillow in front of her to occupy her hands. Now that she had felt the baby move, it was difficult to concentrate on anything other than when she would feel that gentle flutter again, but for the moment, she needed to focus. It was time to tell Nancy what had happened to her and about the resulting little life growing inside her.
Nancy sat on the other end of the couch, facing Celia. “I know you’ve had something on your mind.”
It was the opening Celia needed. A surprising calm settled over her. Nancy hadn’t been her planned confidante, but now that they were sitting here together, she knew there were advantages to telling Nancy. If she had told Silas, she would have worried about his reaction. Would he still like her? Would he be upset or embarrassed by her past? Would the truth change his feelings?
She didn’t have to worry about those things with Nancy. There was nothing more than friendship between them, and if Nancy thought less of Celia, the disappointment would be no worse than what she had dealt with most of her life. There had been more at stake with Silas, and while Celia felt sad that she had misread his intentions, she also felt grateful that his feelings had cooled before she had served up her soul to him.