by Bonnie Leon
Daniel, his father, and a man who lived on the east end of the district emerged from the barn. Mr. Connor had been at the station before. She recognized him by his red hair and heavy beard. His young son, Kieren, bounded ahead of the men. A heavy-muscled bull moved from an indoor stall into the corral. He stopped in the center of the enclosure and with his head lowered, glowered at the men. Mr. Connor was considering buying the impressive animal.
Bertram chatted amiably with his guest. I wish he could be like that with me, Rebecca thought, a longing for a father spreading through her. It could happen . . . if she’d completely submit to his authority. How do I maintain my self-respect and still please him? Watching the two men, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done all she could.
Kieren ran back toward the barn and picked up a ball, then dropped it to the ground and kicked it. He sprinted after the toy, then picked it up, tossed it again, and chased after it. His face was alight with pleasure as he captured the ball and rolled it across the ground.
Rebecca smiled and glanced down at her abdomen. One day she’d watch her child play. Would it be a boy or a girl? Daniel would love to have a son. She imagined him, blond headed and blue eyed, his hand clasped in his father’s.
Kieren giggled, once more catching Rebecca’s attention. He threw the ball hard, and it rolled under the corral fence. He raced after it. Alarm coursed through Rebecca. She was relieved when the youngster stopped at the fence and peered at his prize. The white-faced bull gazed at the ball; then as the lad straddled the bottom railing and climbed inside the enclosure, the brute turned his gaze on the intruder.
“No!” Rebecca shouted.
Absorbed in conversation, the men didn’t hear. Kieren moved toward the ball, which had rolled several yards inside the corral.
The bull dropped his head and blew air from wide nostrils.
“Help him!” Rebecca cried, heading for the porch steps.
Daniel looked at Rebecca.
“There!” She pointed at Kieren.
Almost instantaneously Daniel ran for the corral. In one smooth motion he catapulted over the fence, sprinted to the child, and picked him up. Facing the bull, he hollered and waved at the powerful animal, then took cautious steps backward toward the fence.
Rebecca lifted her skirts and ran. Lord, protect them.
The bull kept his head down and pawed the dirt.
Daniel kept moving.
The bull charged.
Daniel turned for the fence and raced toward it. With the boy tucked under one arm, he clambered over. The bull pulled up short, then trotted around the enclosure, occasionally glancing at the intruders.
Daniel looked at the animal and then laughed with relief. “You’re getting slow, old man.” He carried Kieren to John Connor and handed him over.
The man embraced Kieren, then shook Daniel’s hand. “Thank ya. Yer a good man.”
“Glad the lad’s safe,” Daniel said.
Rebecca’s heart hammered. “I was so frightened,” she said, running up to Daniel. “You could have been killed.”
“Yer lucky. That boy was nearly killed. What was in yer mind?” Bertram stormed. “Why would ya leave the animal in the corral? Ya know better.” He glanced at Kieren and pointed at him. “That child nearly died because of yer irresponsibility.”
Daniel stared at his father, incredulity on his face. Without a word he strode to his hat lying on the ground and picked it up. He dusted it off on his pants, pushed it down on his head, and walked away.
Rebecca wanted to throttle Bertram. How could he shame Daniel that way? He’d risked his life to save Kieren. Couldn’t he see the goodness and courage in his son? Before she said something she’d regret, Rebecca swung around and watched Daniel disappear inside the barn. Lord, why doesn’t he resist? Why doesn’t he say something?
Her child would not be raised in this venomous environment. We must return to Boston, she decided.
That evening Rebecca read while she waited for Daniel to come to bed. When he finally climbed in beside her, she put away her book and rolled onto her side, facing him. “You look tired,” she said.
“I am for sure.”
“I was proud of you today. What you did was very courageous.”
“Not according to my father.”
Maybe now wasn’t the right time to tell Daniel. He seemed in a sour mood. Still, he needed to know. “I have some news that ought to brighten your day.” She met Daniel’s eyes. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Daniel’s face flushed and his blue eyes widened. “A baby? You’re sure?”
She nodded.
He smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace. “A baby!” He sat up. “Well, I’ll be; I’m going to be a dad.” He rolled off the bed and stood. “What do you think it is? Can you tell?”
“No, of course not. We won’t know until it gets here.”
“When? When will it arrive?”
“I’m thinking late December or early January. I haven’t seen a doctor yet, so I don’t know for certain.”
Daniel pulled Rebecca out of bed and danced her around the room. When he stopped he was out of breath. He cradled her face between his hands. “I love you.”
Rebecca wanted to say she loved him. At this moment she could nearly believe she did. He was so exultant.
A flicker of disappointment touched Daniel’s eyes, and then he hugged her. “You’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“I hope so,” she said. I might as well ask while he’s in a jubilant mood. “I was thinking . . . well, you know how difficult your father can be and how we’re always quarreling.” She chewed her lip. How could she ask him to leave his home? She looked down at her clasped hands. “I don’t want our child to live here . . . with your father. I was hoping we could move . . . maybe back to Boston?”
“Move? I can’t move.”
“But you know how your father is, how could you . . .”
“I have an obligation—to my dad and to our child. This station is an inheritance, and it will go on only if I stay to work it. One day I’ll pass it on to our son.” He smiled. “I know my father has been in a bit of a mood lately, but this news will set him to rights.” He kissed Rebecca. “He loves and honors God. That’s a grand heritage to pass on.” He kissed Rebecca again. “Do you think I turned out so badly?”
“No,” Rebecca said, but she thought, You don’t see the shadow you live in.
“Then don’t you think my father did something right?”
“Of course he did, but I would venture the gentleness you possess came from your mother.”
“He hasn’t always been this bad. It’s just since I came back from the States.”
“Yes. When you brought me. He’s angry because of me. How can you expect me to live with that? And to have our child watch as his mother is treated badly by his grandfather?”
“The baby will change everything. I know it. You’ll see. Just give my father some time.”
Rebecca knew there would be no changing Daniel’s mind. She would have to accept that her life would be lived out here on Douloo. But how would she shield her child?
“I’ll try, Daniel. Maybe if I give him a grandson, he’ll accept me.” She managed a small smile. “Would you consider moving into a house of our own close by?”
“I suppose that could be done, but there’s no call for it. I don’t see how it would change anything. And you’ll be needing help from Mum after the baby comes.”
Rebecca nodded. “I suppose so.” It was no use. They would remain under Bertram’s thumb.
“Let’s tell them. Now.”
“Who, your parents?”
“Right. Come on, then.” Before Rebecca could stop him, Daniel rushed into the hall and strode to his parents’ room. “I’ve got news!” he said loudly, standing outside their door.
Bertram and Willa were overjoyed. And true to Daniel’s word, his father did change. He was like a new man—even tempered and congenial. More than once he actually
placed an arm about Rebecca as if he were truly proud of her. When he made an announcement at church, he included both Daniel and Rebecca in his blessings.
Bertram talked about the joys of grandchildren and how he intended to be splendid at grandfathering. He spoke of the things he would do with his grandson—teaching him to ride and to rope—and how he’d show him all of Douloo.
Rebecca felt as if she were holding her breath, waiting for Bertram to return to his prior self. She wanted to believe he’d changed but couldn’t completely convince herself.
The doctor confirmed that January was the expected time of confinement. Willa and Rebecca set about sewing baby clothes, blankets, and bonnets. Aside from her morning sickness, those were good days, and Rebecca decided she could be happy at Douloo.
One Saturday morning she felt quite ill. She joined the family for breakfast but knew tea was all she could tolerate. Bertram and Daniel sat at the table in the kitchen, eating hot cereal.
Willa bustled about, working alongside Lily. She glanced at Rebecca. “You look a little peaked, dear. Are you all right?”
“Oh, a bit queasy. Thought a cup of tea might help.”
“Perhaps a bit of dry toast too. There now, sit down. I’ll get it for you.” Willa retrieved toast from the oven and poured a cup of tea. She set the cup in front of Rebecca, then placed a plate of toast on the table.
“Thank you, but I can’t eat, really. Tea will be fine.”
“All right, then.”
Bertram studied his daughter-in-law. “Ya should try to eat, for the baby.”
“The doctor says it’s normal to feel queasy, and the baby will be just fine if I can’t manage breakfast.”
“And since when are doctors always right?”
“I’m sure the tea will help. I’ll have something later.”
“Ya need to eat.”
“Bertram,” Willa said. “She’s not up to it.”
“Ya can do what ya set yer mind to.” His tone had turned harsh.
Rebecca felt a stab of apprehension. Was this the moment she’d feared?
“Ya’ll feel better if ya have a bite.” He stood and grabbed a piece of toast off the plate, buttered it, and held it out to Rebecca. “Here. Now eat it.”
Rebecca took the toast, knowing he wouldn’t give in until she at least took a bite. She nibbled a corner while Bertram returned to his seat. Just the taste of it set her stomach to churning. She broke out in a cold sweat and set the toast down.
Bertram watched her while he finished his breakfast. “I thought ya were going to eat.”
“I just can’t, sir. I’ve tried. I’ll have something later. I promise.”
“Ya’ll have something now. I won’t have ya starvin’ my grandson. I’ve watched ya, day after day skipping breakfast. I don’t care what the doctor said, it’ll do him harm. Ya’d think there would be enough love in ya to put up with a little stomach upset. Trust in the good Lord to help ya.”
“Bertram—” Willa started.
“Enough!” He pushed away from the table. “I won’t have my grandchild injured because his mother’s character is too weak to do what’s best.”
“I am doing my best.”
“Father,” Daniel said. “Let her be.”
Rebecca felt sick in her soul. Here was the man she’d known. He’d been hiding. He hadn’t truly gone. Rebecca stood, resting her hands on the table. “Daniel, just as I said, he’ll never change.” The room swirled and Rebecca thought she might faint. “I won’t have my child raised in a house without mercy.” The room spun, but Rebecca managed to find her husband’s face. “I’m returning to Boston, with you or without you.”
Willa dropped into a chair. Daniel stared at her, clearly stunned by the ultimatum.
Bertram walked around the table until he stood directly in front of Rebecca. He towered over her. “You won’t go,” he said evenly.
“I will,” Rebecca fired back, meeting his harsh gaze.
“Ya best remember who yer dealing with, young lady. I control what happens in this district, and if I say ya’ll stay, ya’ll stay. After the baby’s born, ya may leave with my blessing. But the child will remain.”
Rebecca couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“And if ya think I can’t do it, then ya haven’t been paying attention these last months. People in this district do as I say.” He raised an eyebrow. “And that includes the law.”
Like a wildfire out of control, fear spread through Rebecca. She knew he spoke the truth.
“You can’t do that,” Daniel said. “I can’t believe that even you would be so cruel.” Daniel turned to Rebecca. “She’ll stay. We’ll work it out, eh?”
Rebecca shook her head. There was nothing more to be said. Too angry even for tears, she walked out of the room.
They won’t hold me captive. I’ll escape, she thought, already formulating a plan.
21
Rebecca sat straight backed in the pew. Something was wrong. When she’d arrived at church that morning, she’d been greeted by whispers and disdainful looks, even pointing fingers. She glanced at Cambria, who sat across the aisle. Even she had avoided her.
This is not my imagination. Something is terribly wrong. She looked to see if Daniel was anywhere about. He’d gone off with his father and hadn’t returned. She tried to focus on the minister’s words.
“Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the LORD.” Reverend Cobb stopped and looked directly at Rebecca before continuing. Several parishioners turned and looked at her.
Rebecca wanted to disappear. What had she done that had them all in a dither? Throughout the rest of the sermon, there were several instances where she felt the reverend’s condemnation. What have I done?
At the closing song Rebecca hoped for a quick exit. The intensity of the minister’s words and the atmosphere in the sanctuary frightened her. She wanted out. As the song came to an end, she moved quickly to the center aisle but was unable to escape before people crowded around her, forcing her to become part of the flow.
Reverend Cobb stood at the door. He smiled and took her hand, but judgment lay behind his eyes. “You may come and talk to me, Rebecca. That’s why I’m here. Remember, God asks that we let go of our sin and seek his forgiveness. He’s faithful and just to forgive us our sins.”
“Yes, thank you, Reverend,” Rebecca said, feeling heat in her cheeks.
Why was he talking to her about sin and forgiveness? Taking back her hand, she hurried down the steps. Meghan stood at the foot of the stairway and offered Rebecca a look of triumph as she passed. What does she have to do with this? Trying to avoid eye contact with other parishioners, Rebecca hurried toward the surrey.
Willa approached her. “Rebecca, dear, would you like to join us for lunch?”
“I’m not hungry.” Remembering the incident over not eating breakfast, she added, “I’ll have a little bit, thank you. And something to drink would be nice.”
“Splendid,” Willa said and sat on a blanket Woodman had spread out. She opened a basket and removed a sandwich. “These look wonderful. I’ll have to thank Lily when we get home.”
Hesitantly Rebecca sat across from Willa and accepted half a roast beef sandwich. Gingerly she took a bite.
“I wonder where Daniel is. Do you know?” Rebecca asked.
“I believe he and Bertram had business to discuss with one of the merchants in town.” Willa offered Rebecca a cup of water.
“Thank you.” Rebecca took a drink, washing down a bite of sandwich. Glancing about, she noticed the other women were keeping their distance. Usually several sat with Willa. She took another bite, but it felt heavy as it hit her stomach.
“This is nice,” Willa said. “It’s just you and me today.”
“Yes. I suppose. But don’t you think it peculiar?”
“Now that you mention it, I suppose so.” She glanced at Cambria, who sat in the back of her family’s wagon, legs hangi
ng off the back. “You usually eat with Cambria.”
“She’s not very friendly today.”
“Hmm.”
Cambria picked at a piece of bread and glanced at Rebecca.
“Very out of character for her,” Willa said.
Elvina ambled toward Rebecca and Willa. As the head of the church guild, she always made certain to visit with all the ladies. Rebecca didn’t care for Elvina, seeing her as critical, and it was well known she was a gossip. Elvina always managed to make Rebecca feel uncomfortable.
“G’day, Willa.”
“Good day. You look well, Elvina. How is your family?”
“We’re all fine, thank ya.” Elvina settled cool eyes on Rebecca. “And yer well?”
“Yes. Very.” Rebecca felt as if a snake were looking at her and was ready to strike.
“Well, after discussing, uh, yer condition with the women in the guild, we’ve decided it will be too taxing for ya to remain part of the group. For yer own health we’re advising ya to step down as a member of the guild. Ya can wait outside while we have our meetings.”
“I’m fine, really,” Rebecca said, knowing instinctively there was another reason for her dismissal.
Willa’s usual calm expression had been replaced by one of surprise. “I wasn’t told about this.”
“It was decided just this morning.”
“Rebecca’s in fine health. I see no reason to exclude her from the meetings.”
“I’m thankful for her health, but the decision has been made.” Elvina walked away.
“Well, I’ll not go, then,” Willa huffed. “Have you been feeling poorly and not told me?”
“No. I’ve been fine, except for queasiness in the morning.” Rebecca watched as Elvina joined a group of women. They looked as if they were discussing something of importance. An occasional glance was cast her way. “Willa, something’s wrong. I’m certain people are angry with me. But I can’t think of what I’ve done to cause their ire.”
“That’s nonsense. Whatever could they be angry about?” Willa stood and smoothed her skirt. “Indeed. I’ll just have a talk with them.” She glanced at Rebecca. “We’ll have this straightened out in no time.” Looking very much like a tranquil saint, Willa strolled toward the group of women.