Grace (War Brides Book 4)

by Linda Ford

  “So eat only a little bit. It will give you strength.”

  Strength for what? she wondered. To get up and make a mess of my life again?

  “Grace.” His voice was stern. “You can’t let this beat you.”

  Why not? she thought, but she only looked at him without blinking.

  In the end, she took a few spoonfuls of the soup and drank some tea simply to avoid arguing.

  Next morning, Billy stood at the side of the bed. “Are you getting up today, Grace?”

  She opened heavy eyes and squinted at him. “I’m very tired,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Fine. You rest.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but Grace closed her eyes, too weary to care.

  After awhile, she lost track of time, wanting nothing more than to escape into sleep where her thoughts could not bother her.

  If only Billy wouldn’t keep coming in and out, she could sleep forever, she fumed, after yet another visit and an attempt to get her to eat.

  “I heard about your troubles.”

  Grace jerked around to stare at Willow.

  “I brung you some things.” Her eyes, dark and steady, rested on Grace. “You be needing some healing.”

  Tears flooded Grace’s eyes.

  Willow stepped into the room. “I made my special tea for ya.” She set an open pot and a cup on the dresser. “But first, ya need to wash up. Whilst you sit yerself up, I’ll bring ya some water.”

  Before Grace could voice her protest and explain she didn’t feel up to it, Willow turned from the room, returning almost immediately with a pan of water and a cloth. Leaning over, she wrapped a strong, warm arm behind Grace’s shoulders and pulled her forward.

  “I’ll just put another pillow behind ya.” With gentle hands, she washed Grace’s face with the warm cloth, patting it dry. She washed each hand carefully.

  Grace stared at her helplessly. “You don’t need to do this.”

  “It’s what I’m best at; caring for the sick and hurting.”

  “I don’t deserve it.”

  Willow straightened and frowned. “And why would ya be not deserving a little human kindness?”

  Grace shook her head, unable to speak.

  Willow finished. “I lost three babies before I had my Zeke. Some babies come for but a moment. Their visit is so short we don’t even get to know them.” She sat at the edge of the bed, her gaze on a distant spot.

  She had Grace’s attention, though Grace wondered if Willow had forgotten her in remembering her own pain and loss.

  “There is no place on earth where I remember my lost babies except here.” She pressed a hand to her chest, then spun around to face Grace. “Your baby will always be there.” She nodded once. “And you will always miss her.”

  A jolt raced through Grace’s body. “Her?”

  Willow nodded as if that was all the explanation Grace needed. Again, her eyes focused on a place in her memories. “I named my babies. Sarah, Martha, and Joshua.”

  Grace digested this of information, never questioning that Willow had known there were two girls and a boy. “I think I’d like to name my baby.”

  Willow nodded.

  Grace thought about it a moment. “I want to name the baby after my mother, Eleanor May.” She smiled. “Do you think my mother is holding my baby?”

  Willow smiled. “Of course. Now I want ya to drink this tea.” She poured dark liquid from the pot and handed the cup to Grace. “This will be making ya feel right again.”

  Grace sniffed at the brew, wrinkling her nose.

  “Go ahead. It will help ya.”

  Grace took a swallow and shuddered. “It doesn’t taste like it will make me feel better.”

  “It will.”

  Grace took three more gulps and paused. “I wish everything could be made right by a swallow or two of this stuff.”

  Willow’s eyes narrowed. “Ya not be meaning the baby.”

  Her face feeling stiff, Grace let her gaze slip away from Willow’s dark, knowing eyes. “I’ve said things to Billy I shouldn’t have,” she whispered. “I know it wasn’t his fault.” If blame was to be placed, it was her fault. For not refusing to fly with him, for not knowing she was pregnant, for being so incompetent.

  Willow took the cup from her and pulled her into her arms. Grace sobbed against the thin shoulders as Willow patted her back and clucked comfortingly. “Crying is the best thing for ya,” she said as Grace’s sobs subsided.

  Grace pulled away, laughing a little. “Then I guess I must be doing alright. It seems I’ve done nothing but cry these past days.”

  Willow nodded. “There’s healing in tears. Women have that; men, they have to find another way.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” She hadn’t given much thought to how Billy felt about the loss of the baby. He’d said nothing since that first day when he seemed more upset that she hadn’t told him than about the baby’s loss.

  Willow stood, her hands on her hips. “It’s time ya be getting out of bed.”

  Grace gaped at her. “Now?”

  “It’s been long enough. The longer ya lay around, the harder it will be.” She pulled open a drawer. “What ya wanting to wear?”

  It was easier to tell her than to argue, so Grace found herself helped into clean clothes.

  “Now ya swing yer legs over the side and sit a mite. Ya might find yerself shaky for a spell.”

  With Willow at her side, Grace did as instructed, clutching her head when it spun with dizziness.

  Willow waited quietly, then took Grace’s arm. “Now ya walk to the sofa and sit.”

  With legs quivering like saplings, Grace hobbled to the front room and sank to the sofa, sweat beading her brow, her breathing ragged.

  “That’s fine. Now I’ve put some food in the cellar—roast chicken, potato salad, some fresh greens—all ya have to do is set it on the table.” She handed the cup of brew to Grace. “Finish this up. It’ll do ya good.” She waited for Grace to drain the cup and hand it to her. “Now I’ll be going. Ya’ll feel better every day and soon be right as ya can be.”

  “Thank you, Willow.” Tears stung her eyes. “You’ve been so helpful.”

  After Willow left, Grace sat on the sofa, wondering if her legs would carry her to the chair where she’d left a book. She grimaced. It was either that or return to bed, and suddenly the bedroom seemed stifling. Gritting her teeth, she pushed to her feet and hobbled to the chair, pausing as she retrieved the book, surprised at how steady her legs seemed. Willow had proved correct. Whatever she’d put into that bitter brew, Grace could already see improvement in her strength.

  Engrossed in her book, she didn’t hear Billy enter the house until he stood before her. She slammed the book shut and stuck it behind the cushion.

  “I’m glad to see you’re up. You are feeling better, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. Willow came over and made me some herbal tea. It seems to have helped.”

  Billy nodded. “I’m glad.” He pulled the chair close and studied her carefully. “Grace, I…” He hesitated.

  Grace held up a hand, having made up her mind to clear the air between them. “Billy, I don’t blame you for what happened. It was my fault entirely. I knew I shouldn’t go flying with you. It was only because I had watched you day after day and it looked like such fun.” She shrugged. “But I guess one of us has to keep their feet on the ground.” She hurried on while she had the strength, ignoring the wary look in his eyes. “And if I weren’t so stupid, I would have known I was going to have a baby.” She studied her hands.

  Billy blew air over his lips. “Grace, why must you always blame yourself? Why can’t you see that life isn’t out to prove you incompetent or stupid? It isn’t your fault anymore than it’s mine. It was an accident. Pure and simple.”

  He took her hands. “Gracie, look at me.” He waited until she complied. “You are not stupid. You are not to blame.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand why you feel this way about everythin
g.”

  “I don’t.” She wasn’t even sure what he was talking about, but it seemed best to deny it.

  “Yes, you do. Like this book.” He retrieved it.

  She looked down, trying to hide the blush she felt racing up her cheeks.

  “See, you’re getting all hot and bothered.” He tipped her chin up with his finger. “Why do you try and hide your reading?”

  She shook her head. How could she explain how guilty she felt when he caught her with a book? As if she didn’t have something more useful to do.

  “I’m not going to scold you or question you about your work. Far as I’m concerned, you can do what you want about cooking and cleaning and all that sort of thing. I’m happy just having you here. I’m not looking for some sort of slave.”

  She searched his eyes. Somehow she was certain he didn’t mean it. Not that she thought he wanted a slave, but she knew he would expect something from her besides being around for company. Finally, she shook her head. “I’m your wife. I’m supposed to do things.”

  He sighed. “You do things enough. I don’t care if you make bread or buy it. I don’t care if you grow a garden or buy canned goods from Mr. Tunney. Do you think I care if you enjoy reading?” He shook her a little. “Can’t you see, I want you to be happy? I want you to enjoy doing things for me, not because you think I or someone else expects it of you.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that easy.”

  He pushed to his feet. “It is if only you’d believe it.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “But if you choose not to believe it, then there’s nothing I can say to prove otherwise.”

  “No, I suppose not.” She refused to meet his glance, knowing she had somehow disappointed him. Again.

  The days passed. Grace slowly found her strength returning, though inside she felt dead, lifeless.

  One day, a deep longing pulled at her. She wandered around, poking at a picture of Irene and one of her father, both so far away. She turned and picked up a book, but it held no appeal. She looked out the window. Suddenly, the outdoors called, and she hurried out. She needed to do something, but all she felt was a strange, restless urging.

  A cluster of trees stood tall and straight in the far corner of the yard, past the barn. Having wandered there a few times, she knew that wild roses grew there in abundance. It was the perfect spot, and she gathered up several large rocks, carrying them to it. The sun beat down on her head. Sweat soon drenched her, but still she trundled back and forth with rocks until she had a small pile. Birds whistled and chattered; a crow flew overhead scolding. The leaves whispered as she arranged the rocks into a neat rectangle, then sat back on her heels to study her work.

  “Good-bye, little Eleanor, my sweet baby. I never got a chance to know you, but still I miss you. I will never forget you.”

  The little mound of rocks seemed so inadequate, but it was all she could think to do.

  “Grace, what are you doing?”

  Billy’s soft-spoken words directly behind her made her jerk her head up.

  “It’s for the baby,” she murmured.

  He sank down on his knees beside her. “What do you mean?”

  “Willow told me how she lost three little babies. She said she named them. So I named our baby Eleanor May after my mother.” A thought struck her and she turned to face him. “I hope that’s alright with you. I never thought to ask.”

  His dark eyes glistened. “I like that.” His words were husky. “Little Eleanor May.”

  She turned back to the mound. “I wanted something to remember her by.” She paused and took a deep breath, knowing she would never need a remembrance. “Maybe what I really wanted was a way to say good-bye.” She nodded toward the rocks. “It isn’t a grave, really, but it’s the only way I know of saying a proper good-bye.”

  She reached for Billy’s hand. They clung to each other.

  “Good-bye, Baby,” Billy whispered.

  “Good-bye,” Grace echoed. She turned to Billy, surprised to see how his eyes glistened. It was her undoing. She flung herself into his arms, sobbing.

  “Gracie, Gracie,” he murmured, his tears merging with hers.

  8

  “I didn’t know if I should come.” Nellie hesitated in the doorway.

  “Why ever not?” Grace asked.

  Nellie pressed her hands against her swollen middle and nodded toward Grace’s flat stomach. “Me so pregnant, and you…”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m glad for you. Come on in.”

  Nellie called over her shoulder to Tom. “Pick me up when you’re done in town.” She turned back to Grace. “I’ve been wanting to come since I heard.”

  “I’m glad you’ve come.”

  “Grace, I’m so sorry.” She hugged Grace as close as she could with her rounded tummy.

  Grace laughed as the baby kicked a protest. “It’s alright, Baby,” she murmured. “I’m not hurting your mama.” She wished she could take Nellie out and show her the memorial for her lost baby. Billy had fashioned a wooden cross with the words “Baby Eleanor” carved in the cross piece, but Nellie looked as if the walk would be too much. Besides, Grace admitted, she wasn’t sure how others would feel about what she and Billy had done.

  “I have prayed for you every day,” Nellie added, waddling to the table and sitting down on a chair. “I can’t imagine how one would deal with such a loss apart from God’s help.”

  Grace busied herself making tea. God seemed to have withheld His help in her situation. She sought some other topic. “Willow was here a few days ago. She made me the most vile tea and said it would make me feel better.”

  Nellie laughed. “And did it?”

  Grace gave a weak grin. “I started to gain my strength back after that.”

  Nellie cocked her head. “But did it make you feel better?”

  Grace tried to smile, but it wobbled. She tightened her lips. “Will I ever feel better?” she whispered.

  Nellie looked thoughtful. “I guess I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to think about this without hurting, but I think you will heal in your heart even as your body is healing.”

  Grace nodded. “I want to believe you’re right, but there are times I wonder if I’ll ever…” She swallowed hard. Her fears sounded more like self-pity than anything.

  “What is it you wonder?” Nellie prodded.

  “Nothing. It was nothing.”

  For a moment, Nellie was silent, then she spoke low and soft. “Grace, I can only guess at what you’re thinking and feeling. I suppose you wonder if you’ll get a chance to have another baby. Chances are you will.”

  Grace nodded. “Willow told me she lost three before Zeke was born.”

  “There you go. Look at her now.”

  Grace laughed. “I know, but Willow is such a good person. She knows all about raising a family and healing and everything.”

  Nellie gave her a strange look. “You’re a good person, Grace.”

  Grace looked away. “I’m stupid and incompetent.”

  “Grace, how can you say that? I’ve been so impressed with how you learned to cope with so many new things. Why, I don’t know how many times I said to Tom what an amazing person you are. You were thrown into a situation that would have sent most of us home crying to our mothers. This house! I said to Tom I think I would have refused to live in it, yet you got down to work and scrubbed it until it shines.” She waved her hand around the room. “No one would know this was the same place.”

  She paused to catch her breath. “You learned everything there was to learn in almost no time. You even learned how to drive.” She shook her head. “I could never do that.”

  Grace listened to all her friend said without answering.

  “So why do you think so poorly of yourself?”

  “I don’t think I do. I’m only being honest.”

  Nellie looked at her long and serious. “I think you’re afraid of something, but I don’t have any idea what or why you should be. All I can do is
pray for you. I know God will find a way of showing you how precious and worthwhile you are to Him.”

  Grace jerked upright. “What did you say?”

  “When?”

  “Just now. This very minute.”

  “About asking God to show you how precious and worthwhile you are?”

  “You said ‘to Him.’”

  “Yes, of course I did. Don’t you know how much He loves you?”

  Grace shook her head. “I suppose so. I believe Jesus died to provide a way of salvation.”

  Nellie’s eyes narrowed. “And after that?”

  Grace shrugged. “I doubt I’ll ever be able to live up to His standards.”

  “Like what?”

  “You know, love one another, don’t lie, be patient, gentle, kind, and all those sorts of things.”

  Nellie shook her head. “It sounds to me like you think you have to earn God’s approval—His love.”

  Grace thought about that. “He says we should obey Him. I seem to be always failing someplace or other. Sometimes I think I’m too stupid to figure it all out.”

  “Grace, there was nothing you could do to earn your salvation, and there is nothing you can do to earn God’s love. There is nothing you can do to make Him love you more, nothing you can do to make Him love you less.”

  Grace thought about Nellie’s words. It just wasn’t that simple.

  Thankfully, Nellie realized she’d said enough and turned to other topics. “By the way, Mrs. Paige stopped me in town and said she thought you could use some more books.” Nellie dug into her bag and handed two to Grace.

  After Nellie’s visit, Grace did her best to pick up the threads of her life.

  “I’ll be the best wife you could ask for,” she told Billy.

  “You’re already the best wife I could ask for.”

  Grace shook her head. “I don’t know how to garden, can meat, or butcher.” The news of an upcoming butcher ring had her in a panic.

  Billy laughed. “Grace, how many times do I have to tell you: What you don’t know you can learn.” He cocked his head. “Do you suppose all the women you know were born knowing how to do what they do?”

  “I’ll bet they were.”

  He grabbed her and hugged her. “You know they weren’t. And if you’d allow yourself to be honest, you’d admit you can do just about anything you put your little head to.”