Seven
Eliza Jensen stood in front of the bakery for a long moment, ignoring the puzzled stares of customers walking in and out. She looked in through the window; she could see Kyle Lampton shaking hands and ordering his skinny nephew around in his usual jolly manner. As she searched through the window she caught a glimpse of her face and her spirits fell: thin cheeks, hooked nose, and pale skin. She was not a beautiful woman. She admitted that she looked better than when she was younger, but still she was not a beautiful sight.
She looked back at Kyle. He was not young and handsome like the pastor, or romantically rugged like the good Sheriff Ben. Still, with his deep brown eyes, that charismatic smile, his massive body that managed to be both muscular and hearty at the same time, he was a catch for any fine woman. Especially since he was indeed successful. Rumor had it that he was doing a side business for some of the neighboring towns, baking for their weddings and parties. That was why he hired his nephew to help out while he made trips every few months. Yes, definitely a catch—handsome in his own right, hardworking, and well off. He could never be interested in her.
She pursed her lips to keep from frowning. Self-pity was not attractive, but was it bad to at least face the facts? She was still in childbearing years, but she was not young. She had a small business going, but it was nothing to brag about and certainly did not give her enough income to make her financial state appealing to any man. She might as well admit that she would die an old maid.
A thick lump materialized in Eliza’s throat. She could handle the no husband part. There were plenty of women without husbands who were perfectly happy. Why there were even women like Esther who did not want a husband. Children however; a child of her own she craved with all her soul. She wanted a child to give all her love to, and to give her life to.
“You can’t get that with puppies,” Eliza sniffed, not bothering to halt the tear trickling down her cheek. “No matter how many you get.” She forced a wry laugh.
The bakery door jingled like Santa’s sleigh as it opened. Kyle Lampton walked out casting a cool shadow over Eliza.
“Why, Miss Eliza Jensen,” he exclaimed as he walked towards her, “I know I told my nephew that I wanted some pretty decorations for my window, but I never imagined he would find something as pretty as you,” he practically bellowed, sugar flying off his hands as he clapped them.
Eliza glared at him and put her hands on her hips. “You, Mr. Lampton are a notorious flirt who likes to play with a poor woman’s emotions,” she accused. The door jingled again and Sheriff Ben walked out raising his eyebrows at her insult. He walked by Kyle with a steaming bag that gave off a delicious smell.
“Kyle,” the Sheriff addressed with a ‘good luck’ kind of nod at the baker and a slightly arched eyebrow at Eliza.
“Have a good day, Sheriff,” Kyle smiled with a raised hand. Then he looked back down at Eliza with an amused smile. “Now what was that you were saying?”
Eliza felt herself go red. She’d spoken out of sadness and emotion. A silly and girlish thing to do. “It was nothing… please excuse me.”
Kyle spoke before she could turn away. “A notorious flirt who plays with a poor woman’s emotions. Am I correct?”
Eliza cast her gaze downward, “I am truly sorry, Mr. Lampton. I don’t know what got into me just now. I… I spoke out of turn, forgive me.”
Kyle chuckled and held out his arm for Eliza to take. “Lucky for you Miss Eliza, I happen to know exactly what you need.” He waited, his arm held out for Eliza to take. Eliza stared at his arm, taking it hesitantly. She could not very well refuse when she had just insulted him in such a base manner.
“And what is that?” she asked slowly as he led her into the brightly-lit bakery.
“You need a slice of my triple layer chocolate cake and a cup of dark coffee,” he said with a decisive nod. “Harry, mind the shop. I am taking a fifteen-minute break,” Kyle called out to the overwhelmed boy who was handing out pastries and pouring coffee as quickly as he could.
“Are you sure he doesn’t need help?” Eliza asked as she began to look for an empty table.
Kyle chuckled, leading her to behind the counter and back into the kitchen, ignoring the stares. “It’s good for him. Besides, he’s off in twenty minutes.”
“What are we doing back here?” Eliza wondered if she should be back here alone with a man. What would people think? Eliza groaned, exasperated with herself. Who cares what people think! She was doing nothing wrong, and besides, she could not remember the last time she’d had chocolate cake—or chocolate of any sort.
“This is a private party,” Kyle winked. He quickly led her to a small table marked with cuts and dusted with flour. In a blink he had it wiped down and had spread a clean cloth over it. Then he disappeared and was back before Eliza could take a breath, holding two chairs as if they were feathers. “Please sit down,” he requested. Eliza sat, watching him poor a steaming cup of coffee that he gently handed to her. “Don’t burn yourself,” he said. Then he knelt down to one of the cool cupboards and pulled out a tall dark chocolate cake, muttering something about needing more ice.
“I was saving this as a treat for tonight, but now seems an even better time.” He grinned and with a baker’s skill he pulled out a small plate and cut a large piece in a perfect triangular shape before handing it to her with another one of his winks.
“Mr. Lampton, this really is not right,” Eliza protested. “I made a dreadful scene out front and you are feeding me chocolate cake.”
Kyle shrugged. “Take a bite for me, will you? It is a new recipe I created,” he ordered, waiting gleefully for her reaction.
Eliza sighed and dug the fork into the moist dark cake. The silky frosting clung to her fork as she placed it in her mouth. A sinfully wonderful sensation filled Eliza as the chocolate made contact with her tongue. Unable to help herself she moaned in delight and swallowed slowly, savoring the delectable taste.
“Why Mr. Lampton, truth be told I have never tasted something so… well delicious and rich,” she exclaimed, taking another bite with gusto.
Kyle beamed with schoolboy pride. “Why, Miss Eliza, your reaction just made my whole life worth living, and don’t worry about your earlier comment. You see, I grew up as the only boy with six sisters so I have an advantage over other men when it comes to dealing with a woman’s rude comments.”
“An advantage?” Eliza smiled inquisitively. “You mean you calm them down with chocolate cake?”
“Well, no actually, you are the first woman I ever have allowed into my castle,” he waved his hand around the kitchen, “as well as the first one to try a new recipe.”
Eliza blushed. She did not want to believe him. She could not believe him. She would not entertain false hopes. “What, then, is the advantage?” she asked quietly, focusing on the pastry in front of her.
“I can read women’s minds.”
Eliza snorted. “Oh, please be serious.”
Kyle chuckled, “Truly I can. You see, a woman often says one thing and thinks another, yet at other times she says exactly what she is thinking; most men never know which is which, but I do.” He leaned forward with a wide crooked smile. “So when you call me a notorious flirt, what you are really thinking is, ‘Oh, would it not be wonderful if Mr. Kyle Lampton asked me to go to the Harvest Festival with him?’”
Eliza coughed in surprise, then coughed again. She took a long drink of her coffee hardly knowing how to react. “Oh, is that it?” she sputtered. “Mr. Lampton, I am sure your confidence is deserving, but that was not what I was thinking,” she denied, hoping to heaven that she was not as red as she felt.
Kyle frowned disbelievingly. “It wasn’t? I could have sworn that was what you were thinking.” He pulled out his pocket watch, “Well then, I got five minutes to convince you to go with me.” He nodded towards the cake. “Just think of all the chocolate cakes I could make you if you were to go with me?” he teased.
Eliza rolled her eyes
. She would put up a fight in agreeing to go with him, but she knew in her heart that she needed no encouragement. She wanted to go with him and had to bite her lip to keep from bursting in delight.
/
Esther was tired by the time Wednesday rolled around. Tuesday, Uncle Tim and Aunt Lily had to make a quick trip into Denver and asked her to make some medical rounds for them, checking on boils, fevers, and coughs. Her hands were raw from scrubbing after each visit. Constant worry weighed on her. Did she clean the wound correctly? Did she instruct the right treatment? Even after seven years, she much preferred midwifery to general nursing.
Today, she visited Melissa and baby Clark who was a bit on the thin side. Melissa had broken down in tears when Esther told her this.
“I’m starving my baby, aren’t I?” she had wailed.
It was then that Esther noticed the disarray of the house, the rumpled appearance of Melissa, and the glossy, worried eyes of Robert. She sat down with Melissa and began to pull words from her, asking the tired mother how she was feeling. Melissa’s tears and words came out like an avalanche. She was melancholy, tired, worried over her baby’s health; she felt ugly and bad about herself, wanted to cry all the time, and didn’t even want to go outside.
“It is normal for some mothers to feel sad after having a baby,” Esther told her, rubbing Melissa’s ankles as she talked.
“But I can’t afford to feel sad, “Melissa sobbed. “I got wee ones at home who are getting thinner because I can’t get out of bed. My Robert seems cranky all the time because I can’t seem to…” Melissa blushed and looked around to make sure they were alone. “I can’t perform… well, have no desire to perform wifely duties.” She blushed with a trembling lip. “What I mean by that is I can’t get to know him in a Biblical sense.”
“I know what you mean, Melissa,” Esther smiled, gently setting down Melissa’s feet. She wiped her hands on a cloth and went over to pick up baby Clark who was starting to fuss. The little baby quieted when Esther picked him up and kissed the smooth cheeks. “Melissa, I want you to nurse him at least every two hours, if not more until he gains more weight.”
Melissa nodded and took the baby to nurse, “Yes, but life just gets so busy, you know.”
“I do know,” Esther sympathized. She only had one child and even then sometimes found that she had no time. “Now Melissa back to your…” she grinned, “Biblical problem. Does it hurt?”
Melissa shook her head, “No, nothing down there hurts. There is no swelling and no bleeding, I just have no desire and I feel ugly, fat, stretched out and…” Melissa began to cry again, holding her baby tightly as she bit her trembling lip. Esther sighed and patted Melissa’s back. There was no science or medicine for this feeling women had after delivering their babies. Esther would have to rely on intuition, instinct, and experience to help Melissa. Saying a prayer in her heart, she looked steadfastly at Melissa.
“Alright Melissa, there are some things I want you to do. I will also talk to Robert about certain things he can help you with.”
Melissa nodded. “I will do whatever you say. It can’t make me feel worse than I already do.”
Esther smiled encouragingly. “I want you to bathe every day. Try the morning. You have such a nice large tub—use it. I want you to eat more vegetables and meats. That will help with your lack of energy. You need to go outside every day, too. Go on a walk around the farm with little Clark, sing while you do, talk to God if you can, but every day I need you walking out in the fresh air.”
She looked steadily at Melissa to make sure she was listening and taking in everything she said. Melissa’s face was pinched in concentration, clearly soaking up every word.
“I also want you laying with your baby every day, with both of you naked, even just for a little bit.”
“Naked?” Melissa asked, surprised. “Both of us?”
Esther nodded. “There is power in skin, Melissa, power in touch. Your baby’s skin will calm you, nurture you, and it will do the same to him. I will visit you every week, and in turn you need to visit others. Your sister and your parents live close by, don’t they? Visit them every week and go into town. We are fortunate it is not that far. Why not take advantage of it? Going to town will force you to put on a nice dress and pinch your cheeks. You will be surprised how much better that will make you feel.”
Melissa nodded. “And what do I do with my husband?”
Esther smiled. “Melissa, you look beautiful, more so than when you were first married. You are just a hard-working mother who is tired and anxious. However, every day I want your husband to rub your back, massage it; that will help with your mood and it will also help… with the other problem.” She winked and stood up. “Is Robert outside? I will tell him that you need daily massages—midwife’s orders.”
Melissa laughed and nodded. “Yes, he is outside on the farm.” She looked down at her baby. “Am I being a bad mother feeling this way? Am I letting Clark down by not being happy?”
Esther walked over and placed her hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “The fact that you are concerned about that shows that you are a good mother. I will see you in a few days.”
After talking to Robert, Esther had gone to see Suzanne Gable, who was a basket of nerves as she expected a miscarriage any hour.
“I just know I am going to lose the baby.” She fretted, unable to hide the quiver in her voice though her face was composed. “I had Daisy and Billy back to back and then all of a sudden it is like my body forgot how to stay pregnant, like it betrayed me.”
“I know how nervous and scared you are Suzy, but for the sake of your baby, you must relax,” Esther implored. “The baby, from what I can tell, is fine. Try to remain calm.”
“Relax? Calm? What do you think I have been doing? I hardly move out of my chair for fear the poor little critter is going to die,” she cried. “All I do is sit, and when I walk I feel I got to keep my legs together—or else.” Suzy looked down at her hands. “Nothing good happens in Tall Pine. Back in Florida I had Daisy and Billy just fine, but Florida is warm, lots of sunshine and nice cities. If my husband had not dragged me to Colorado…”
Esther sighed. She knew that the two miscarriages Suzy had were during stressful times. The first miscarriage came when her husband broke his leg and she had two young ones to feed and a farm to plow. The second one came soon after her mother passed away—they had been very close. Esther had a feeling that Suzy’s body was in strong accordance with her emotions. She dare not tell Suzy this for fear that the poor woman would blame herself and her inability to control her emotions for losing two babies.
“Suzanne listen, you are seven months along. Miscarriages usually happen long before this. I think possibly all of this sitting may drive you crazy, and we want you in healthy spirits when the baby comes. Try something—don’t you like gardening?”
Suzanne raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Why Esther, how can you ask such a question? You know my garden is the envy of all Tall Pine. Why, most women here plant vegetables and herbs, none of them have roses and tulips the way I do. You’ve seen my garden yourself.” She frowned, suddenly leaning back with a grunt. “Although it’s just about gone to ruin since I can’t get out and work on it.”
Esther nodded, knowing that she needed to proceed with caution. “As a midwife I feel from experience that fresh air is both very good for a mother and her unborn child. I suggest that you work in your garden every day. Bring a chair or a blanket,” she added quickly, “so that when you feel the least bit tired you can stop and rest.”
Suzanne gave a non-committal nod of her head. “Well, I suppose that makes some sense. My last two babies I lost fairly early in the pregnancy. Still, I worry.”
“Of course you do,” Esther smiled brightly, “which is why you make sure to bring out a blanket to rest when you feel fatigued. However, fresh air would be healthy.”
Esther then left, hoping that Suzy would follow her advice. A woman was not made to sit, and boredom
could cause as much stress as a husband with a broken leg. Esther bit her lip thinking about her past two days. The last thing she wanted to do now was to make a fancy dinner to entertain Joseph and Abby and then watch as a practical stranger taught her son how to ride. A part of her wanted to cancel, to pick up Michael, make a simple dinner, and go to bed early. Michael, however, was so excited that he had even planned the menu they would cook: roasted garlic potatoes with plenty of butter, fried beef steak, hot bread with apple sauce, green beans mixed with bacon chunks and caramelized onions, and then carrot cake for dessert. The poor boy had even gotten up early to help peel carrots.
“Go back to bed, love,” she had told him. “You still have another hour before you need to get up.”
“But I want Joseph to know I helped,” he told her with a yawn. Esther felt the sting of tears. It saddened Esther to watch her son so desperately try to win Joseph’s approval.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you help me frost the cake when you get home? You are the best cake-froster around, and I will certainly need your help with that.”
Michael pondered this for a few seconds. “Will you tell Joseph I made the cake?”
Esther promised she would and then sent Michael back to bed. As she began seasoning the beef, cubing the potatoes and mixing the dough to rise, her thoughts wandered to Joseph. He was a handsome man to be sure. She herself may not be interested in men, but that did not mean she was blind. His interest and kindness to Michael alarmed her. It was her experience that men who attempted to court her, even good Pastor Will, did not bother to pay attention to her son. They were polite, but wished to impress Esther more than to win the affection of Michael. So from past patterns of men, he must not be so interested in her. He probably was just one of those handsome flirts, yet he must have some reason for being so kind and attentive to Michael. Tonight if his kindness persisted she would confront him and find out what he was up to. It may be presumptuous, but for heaven’s sake, she was feeding him a large and delicious dinner. She could afford to be a little forward just this once.
Beneath the Heavens Page 14