“It suits you perfectly.” Thenny and Becky laughed in unison as I paraded before them and the mothers smiled, indulging me.
I have something for you too.
I stopped my gay mockery and extended my hands to receive what I expected would be grapes or cherries from the Spirit, but instead into my open palms fell a beautiful silver comb to wear in my hair. Inlaid with mother-of-pearl, it was curved to exactly the right proportions.
“My goodness!” Mrs. Porter held her hand to her breast and grew pale as a muslin cloth.
“I told you.” Mrs. Thorn had clearly discussed the gifts of the Spirit with Mrs. Porter before arriving, and she was more concerned with examining what I’d received than comforting her friend.
“Let me help you to try it.” Mother deftly twisted my braid on top of my head and secured it in place with the comb. I turned to face my girlfriends and was pleased when Thenny and Becky both gasped at the effect.
“ ’Tis breathtaking. I shall fetch the looking glass, for you must see yourself.” Mother hurried from the room.
“Wear it like that when you go with Josh,” Thenny whispered in my ear.
“You look ever so sophisticated, doesn’t she, Mother?” Becky nudged her pale mother, poking her shoulder until she nodded her agreement.
“Yes, yes, Miss Betsy, that you do.”
“I wonder where the presents come from …” Mrs. Thorn spoke her query softly, and Mother returned, handing me her small mirror. I looked and saw the silver glinting in the light, and I was truly surprised, for I did look beautiful. The raising of my hair atop my head revealed my face to have a delicate jaw and fine neck, most often hidden. They told the truth, it was a becoming style. I thought instantly of Josh, and wondered what he would think. I wished to open up the door and have him standing there, to admire me in my finery.
“I am blessed indeed,” I told my friends and we returned to the table to cut the cake and eat.
“I wish your father could be here with us this day.” Mother squeezed my shoulder and I stared down at the lovely brown glaze of the caramel cake, thinking how it reminded me of the warm mud between my toes in the morning, and the swirls in the frosting suddenly looked like the worms in the earth Father was buried under. I thought of how good I’d felt with the warm sun on my back, knowing how lovely the day was going to be.
“For certain he is watching from his place in Heaven,” I replied, unwilling to allow any melancholy thoughts to spoil my party.
When the girls had gone, I went up to my room. I took the comb from my hair and laid it on my chest beside the pretty fan and the length of satin ribbon. Looking out the window at the blossoming fruit trees in the orchard, I thought my final pleasure of the day would be to take a horseback ride along the creek. I hurried to change my fine dress for a plain cloth one and ran quickly back downstairs. Mother and Chloe were in the kitchen.
“I am going out, Mother, to inspect the lovely spring,” I called.
“And I am going for a nap, Miss Betsy, as your celebration has tired me plenty.”
I was happy she did not object. I took my wool coat from the wardrobe in the hall for I knew I would need it riding, as the wind would still be cold. I could not find my riding bonnet so I grabbed my velvet church one. The bonnet was too nice to ride in, but it was my birthday and I could not be bothered to look for another more practical one. My hair had come undone from its braid, slippery from the Spirit’s lemons, and I did not wish to take the time to do it up again, so I just tucked it carelessly inside. I thought of the winter-time when I’d met Josh Gardner in the woods and I hoped he would be there now. I felt possessed by a nervous exuberance as if something truly exciting were soon to happen to me, and if I did not keep moving, the unknown thrill would not be realized. I allowed the front door to slam behind me, and I nearly tripped over my own feet running down the hill.
Riding away from the stables on Moses my exhilaration only increased. Pea green clover carpeted the path down to the stream and I expect Moses enjoyed the soft plush pile beneath his shoes. The smell of new grass, sassafras and spicy forsythia drifted on the breeze, while bunnies scattered away from us under the bushes. I kicked Moses hard with my heels and galloped down the path along the stream. The ties of my bonnet came undone and I caught the velvet ribbons just before losing it to the wind. I stuffed it in my coat, and my hair tumbled down my back. I loved the feeling of it flapping on my cheeks like yellow silk, tangling and smelling of fresh lemons. I thought of the wooden bowl Chloe had used to pour the lemon juice on my head, and I imagined all the love and happiness in the world had been strained into that golden liquid and poured over me. I felt blessed to be alive.
I turned the corner and rode under the gray elms, already in leaf. The sun filtered in, making fairy light, and there was something in the green and shifting patterns that brought to mind how magic things could happen. I looked to the clearing ahead and there was Josh, standing by the stream, allowing his horse a drink.
“Betsy!” He turned at my approach. “Our Lord is good to me. Once again, I wished for you, and here you are.”
“Josh! I too have wished for you.” As in the instance when I threw Father’s paper in the fire and the poison down into the grate, I could not blame my wrong actions on the Spirit, for it was not in attendance. I dismounted Moses and threw the reins carelessly around the closest bush. I ran smiling and surefooted over the mossy rocks straight into Josh’s open arms, laughing as he did. He held me as if it were the very thing he’d been waiting there to do.
“It was as if your voice spoke without words into my heart,” I whispered into his coat, understanding my earlier excitement most clearly, for here was the thrill I had sensed.
“I have been waiting, Betsy.” He stepped back and wrapped his fingers through my hair, drawing my face to his. He kissed my lips, and I opened my mouth to him. I did not think how sinful we were, for I felt certain we were doing exactly what we should be doing. “There are some who would say this is wrong-minded of us …” Josh breathed into my ear, hesitating, but I encouraged him.
“How can that be, when we most truly love one another?” It seemed to me God inhabited our hands, helping us to find the right true places on each other that were meant to be touched, and the feeling was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Josh did not speak again but with his eyes and hands and lips and tongue, and all his meanings were returned from in my soul, filled to overflowing with desire and a gratitude toward him so deep it could have filled the sky above us.
We lay together, our clothes and minds undone on the damp floor of the clearing, watching the sun finish the day. I thought of what Martha had told me of the joys of womanhood and I was surprised how she had not conveyed the half of it. The places where our skin was bare grew cold, but still we did not move. I curled inside his arms breathing deep the mingled smells of new grass and damp wool and the delicious aroma of his skin. I wished the light would never quit, and the day never be gone.
“I would not have done this, Betsy, only I do intend to marry you. I would never wish to do anything you did not want.”
“But I did want it, Josh, the same as you.”
“You are Heaven on earth, Betsy. I would have you for my wife.” Josh tilted my chin upward with his hand and kissed me. I felt a great swelling inside and realized that until he mentioned marriage I had completely forgotten about the Spirit and its evil warnings. For those unconscious moments I had been happy. “Say you will be mine, Betsy,” Josh pressed me. “I will love you forever.”
“I am yours already, Josh, you can’t have forgotten so soon.” I tickled the bare skin of his belly with my fingertips, teasing him. What joy it was to touch him there, admiring his muscles, taut and lean. It was terribly exciting. I wanted nothing more than to lie with him on the damp forest floor for the rest of my life.
“Betsy, I have not forgotten.” Josh took my hands in his, rolled up and straddled me. “I will never forget, but I must always hav
e you.” He bent and kissed me deeply and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“There will be no other match for me, come what may.” I felt I might begin to cry and I did not know if it was pleasure or pain, bringing tears into my eyes.
“What do you mean, ‘come what may’? Why do you worry so? The Spirit that murdered your father is gone, its evil is accomplished, and ’tis certain we were meant to have each other. My father says there is land more fertile than our own across the mountains in Kentucky. We can go and homestead there.”
“But the Spirit is not gone, Josh.” I turned my cheek to the ground, aware how soft the moss was, how full of water, like my eyes. I thought to tell Josh it was my birthday but I was so saddened by holding the thought of the Spirit and Josh and my future at once, that I did not tell him. I also did not say I felt he had given me a gift of the greatest significance. He got off me and lay next to me again. Taking up my hand, he kissed it, silent. It pained me to think he did not really know the depth of my fear and experience. I sat halfway up, leaning on my elbow. “What if I say we must go now to Kentucky, or never go at all?”
“If you say now or never, I say yea, let us depart! I do love you truly, Betsy. But I believe our families would not understand such haste and unto your dear mother I would cause no greater sorrow than what she has already suffered.” I was chastened by the thought of my mother and impressed with Josh’s maturity, but I sighed, knowing it might very well be now or never, for my future beyond that moment loomed uncertain, and I was afraid once we parted I might never see him more.
“Betsy, kiss me, and picture in your mind the very many days of our future together.” Josh spoke as if my inner thoughts were written on my face. “I love you and have loved you since the day I visited your home and you did drop the wool. You saw it roll a tie between us! I have suffered mostly silent through your torment, but I am certain the love I feel for you is stronger than the strongest evil, and here, united in this love, we are stronger together than any unworldly creature. God has blessed us, and given us such strength in love, nothing can harm us. You must have faith, Betsy, and trust me.” Josh finished his confident speech pressing his lips into mine, and I parted my own, allowing his tongue in my mouth. I wanted to believe his words, and I encouraged myself to be swept up in the passion, but the sun had disappeared behind the trees and the breeze chilled my exposed skin, so I was forced to pull away.
“I must go, I must,” I told him.
“Do you love me, Betsy?” He held on to my forearm as I attempted to rise.
“I do, more than you know, dear Josh. But it is complicated. I can’t forget all that has happened …” Josh drew me back into his arms and with my ear pressed against his bare chest I heard his heart beat strong.
“It will be all right.” Josh stroked my hair and I felt safe and content, but remembered suddenly the winter night Father had carried me up to my bed, and lay with me. He too had promised all would come out right and it most certainly had not. I shivered, and though Josh tried to squeeze me closer, I managed to pull away and hastily depart.
Riding home, I began to worry, for I knew Mother would be wondering what had happened to me. The light was truly at its end under the blooming elms. I had to kick Moses and trust he knew the way. When I reached the stable, Zeke was not about, but a lantern had been lit. I did not bother to lead Moses to his stall, I was in such a hurry, and he neighed at me on my way out, as if to say I was ungrateful and mean.
“Sorry,” I called back to him, hoping Zeke would soon return. I hastened up the hill toward the house. My undone hair was full of twigs, clover and bits of moss, and though at first I tried to comb it with my fingers, I quickly gave up, and stuffed it in large handfuls up inside my bonnet. I was absorbed completely in what I might say by way of explanation to Mother, and I did not see the commotion in the yard until I was on top of it.
There at the hitching post stood two horses I did not recognize and beside them Zeke and Isiah, and up the path on the porch steps there stood John Jr. I ran past the well and under the pear trees.
“I rode my horse near to the ground to be here today,” John Jr. called down to me and in the light of the lamp Mother held I saw his face told the story of his journey. His cheeks were so gaunt, they looked hollow above his dark brown beard, and he bore a new resemblance to Father. I stopped myself from running into his arms, and stood frozen at the bottom of the steps, staring, my hair protruding in wild strands from my velvet bonnet, hoping he would not notice my coat was damp from an afternoon on the ground.
“Good son, we have prayed for your safe journey home. And for you to arrive today on Betsy’s birthday, what a gift!” Mother stroked his arm.
“A terrible shame you were not here when Father was laid to rest.” Drewry appeared behind Mother and though his lament was certainly honest, there was a pinched quality to his voice.
“Oh, brother, we so desired your presence …” I ceased thinking how I might be perceived, for John Jr. standing before me was a sight I had often wished to view. I could not contain my pleasure and I bounded up the steps, hugging him with both arms around his waist.
“That evil Being did torment me with our father’s fate.” John Jr. squeezed his arm around my back, and I thought of Josh’s arm so recently fingering the same place. A silence fell across the porch, for it had been some time since the Spirit had been called the “evil being” out loud, and we had all made great efforts not to discuss Father’s murder.
I gave to your good mother all your news, John Jr.
“Speak not, you evil creature! Get back to Hell and stay there!” John Jr. raised his fist.
I would have told you more tidings had you a mind to listen.
“No upright man listens to the Devil’s voice.”
“Come in, my son, for we must sit and feed you supper. Tell us all your news, and your many adventures too.” Mother ignored the Being, and grasping John Jr.’s arm she pulled him into the house, communicating with her eyes that many things had changed.
“Brother! Brother!” Richard and Joel careened down the stairs and attached themselves to John Jr.’s legs. I laughed, pleased my brother’s arrival home had eclipsed all concern for where I might have been. I removed my bonnet and coat and hung them in the hall, surreptitiously shaking my skirt for spare leaves and twigs caught in the hem. I wanted to go upstairs and tidy my appearance, but I was afraid to draw any further attention to myself through absence.
“The good Lord blesses us today.” Chloe’s smile was tender and relieved as she laid the table, “I did wonder, chile, if you was ever coming home.”
“I did wonder that myself, Chloe, and more than once as well,” John Jr. responded, laughing, but I noticed the line of his jaw was serious and much aged.
Supper was the leftover meat and biscuits from my luncheon party, which did not excite my appetite, but John Jr. ate heartily, between stories of his travels.
“Was it only squirrels and skunk you had to eat, brother?” Joel was curious regarding all the details.
“We ate plenty of squirrels, but never a skunk, and in all the countryside we never did taste a ham so sweet as Chloe’s.” We watched him wipe his mouth with satisfaction, and all of us felt amazed and grateful to see him in his place at the table once again. He looked around at us, smiling, but then turned abruptly serious. “Tell me, what is the state of the farm? In the growing dark it was impossible to see.”
“For certain we shall have a crop for you to bring to market, brother, for I have planted much of it myself.” Drewry sat straight and tall, speaking quickly.
“Drewry knows everything having to do with the slaves and the planting, John Jr.” I wished to support Drew, but he shot me such a withering glance I wished I had kept quiet.
“Everything?” John Jr. took a teasing tone, and used a knife to pare the ham off the bone on his plate. “How is Little Bright these days?” At first I thought John Jr. was sincerely asking Chloe, but then I realized she was in
the kitchen, and he had not meant the question for her. Mother let her fork drop on her china plate.
“John Jr. Bell!”
I knew immediately what he meant, though I had not been thinking of it. I was horrified to realize Little Bright had been taken advantage of by Drewry, and if John Jr. knew so much about it, he might have taken similar liberties himself. But how could he speak of it at the table with Mother present?
“My most sincere apologies, Mother, though Drewry is of age for it. My long days away were spent in company much more coarse than this fine family.” He stopped eating and clasped his hands together, pretending prayer. Mother sighed but the corners of her mouth turned in a half-smile, to say he was forgiven. I believe she was simply hypnotized into agreeability by seeing his face.
“Still Drewry is a young buck now.” John Jr. could not quit and mocked him further. I expected Mother to slap him, but before she could speak Joel looked up from his plate, smiling.
“Of age for what, John Jr.?”
“Of age for what you be far away from!” He laughed deeply, but Mother interrupted his pleasure.
“John Jr., I know you have seen and suffered a great deal in your travels, but we have seen and suffered much at home as well. Do not be base and licentious at your father’s table.” Mother summoned harsh words to end the discussion, but I could tell she was not as upset as she pretended, and I knew it was true, Drewry had been with Little Bright. I looked at him, blushing a dark red under his early tan.
“I see the weather on your face, dear brother.” John Jr. also noticed.
“Yea, for I have worked the fields a plenty in your absence.” Drewry looked him in the eye, and John Jr. nodded, an understanding made.
“Tomorrow we shall take pleasure working them together.”
“You will find it better than you left it, for our slaves are in excellent humor. Mother provided them with shoes at Father’s passing.”
All That Lives Page 37