Birdie's Nest

by Linda LaRoque

  Bethany’s mouth formed a silent O.

  “I stopped seeing her about the time Birdie arrived, but what I didn’t know was that she was pregnant with my child.”

  Olivia groaned and covered her trembling mouth. Maybelle grabbed her hand.

  “I found out two weeks ago because Lucy sent an urgent message for me to come to see her, said she’d had my son and couldn’t take care of him. If I didn’t take him, he’d go to an orphanage. You can imagine my reaction.”

  “An orphanage!” shrieked Olivia. “Over my dead body.”

  “Lucy is very ill. She’s dying of lung cancer. I had her admitted to the hospital for proper care.”

  Olivia shook her head. “Sad. I’ve heard it’s very painful. It’s good she’s getting good care.”

  “I’m sorry for bringing this scandal down on our family. I hope it won’t cause your friends and others in town look down on you.”

  “You have Birdie to think about, son. You can’t expect her to raise another woman’s child. We can find a family, someone close so we can keep an eye on him, to take him in as their own.”

  “No, Mother. He and his wet nurse are coming to live with me. If you don’t want him here, I’ll find a house in town until I can build another.”

  “Is this the problem standing between you and Birdie? Does she resent the child, refuse to raise it?”

  “No, Mother. The problem is that I didn’t tell her when I found out, that she had to discover it on her own. She’d noticed I’d been leaving in the evenings and followed me last night.”

  He dropped his head into his hands and massaged his temples. “I’m sorry to say but it looks like we won’t be having a wedding.”

  * * *

  Birdie walked with Mattie outside in her garden. Not much was in bloom but the fresh air cleared her head. Earlier she’d been to see Strawberry. Nehemiah had settled her in a stall and she’d nickered a greeting as Birdie entered. That had been yesterday morning. She’d been here a full day and Tad hadn’t come to see her. Had he just given up on her? His lack of response unsettled her. Maybe he didn't love her as much as he'd claimed. A hard lump formed in her stomach, and she drew in a deep breath of air to ease the discomfort. And what did she expect—to see him groveling for her forgiveness? Surely she wasn't the type that wanted to see him suffer. Well, she was certainly suffering right now. On the other hand, what did he expect from her—to have that forgiveness simply for the asking? His lie of omission hurt, hurt her deep inside where her soul lived. Why hadn’t he trusted her with the truth?

  They sat down on a wooden bench. Birdie turned her face up to let the sun’s rays warm it. If only it could warm her heart. Indecision ate at her. Her life was a mess and she didn’t know how to fix it.

  “Do you love Tad, Birdie?”

  “Yes, yes I do.”

  “You’ve said you don’t resent the child. Why then can’t you forgive Tad?”

  “Because he didn’t tell me as soon as he found out! We’re engaged, for gosh sake. He should have told me.”

  “Hmm, I suppose you haven’t deceived him about one thing or another since you’ve been here, right?”

  Birdie remembered her time at the Reservation, the days she’d been dressed up as Detective Jenkins and stayed late pretending she was teaching classes. He’d been angry and upset, but he’d not turned her away. He’d understood. He’d… forgiven her.

  “Oh, God, Mattie, I’ve been acting like a fool, acting as if his fathering little Nathan was a betrayal of me, and it’s not. My pique over his not telling me right up front is a betrayal of what I feel for him. I have to go back to the ranch.”

  Having made up her mind, Birdie insisted she leave right away. She packed the valise Olivia had sent with her clothes while Nehemiah saddled Strawberry. As she walked through the kitchen Sadie muttered, “Bout time you got your head on straight, Miss Birdie.”

  Birdie giggled, but Mattie rolled her eyes. “You can giggle all you want, but you knows I’m telling the truth, Miss Mattie.”

  Birdie couldn’t resist kissing the smooth black cheek. “Thank you, Sadie.”

  “Pleased to help. Now, you get yourself home where you belongs.”

  It was about quitting time when Birdie rode past the house and toward the barn. One of the cowboys let out a piercing whistle. Standing at the corral, Tad’s head came up and he glanced her way.

  With slow deliberate ease, he mounted Brodie and turned the horse in her direction. He didn’t nudge his horse into a gallop so Birdie kept Strawberry moving at a walk. The darn man wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

  They stopped about three yards apart. Tad tipped his hat. “Birdie.”

  “Tad.”

  “You coming home or just passing by?”

  “I’m coming home.”

  He merely nodded and turned Brodie. “Let’s get these horses in the barn.”

  At the barn, the cowboys scattered, leaving them alone. Butterflies raced through her stomach and she drew several deep breaths to calm herself. They dismounted and she and Strawberry followed Tad as he walked Brodie in to the barn. Tad stood by Brodie’s stall, arms crossed, waiting. No smile, nothing. So, that’s the way he planned to handle it—force her to make the first move. Well, we’ll see about that.

  With a smile as big as Texas, she propped a hand on her hip, tossed her head and challenged him, “Well, did you miss me, cowboy?”

  One step and he was on her. One hand fisted in her hair, sending her hat flying, and the other caught her around the waist and yanked her body flush with his. Face less than an inch from hers, he growled. “Dammit, don’t ever do that to me again.”

  She screeched, “You? What about me?” She knocked his hat off and grabbed handfuls of his hair. “You didn’t come see me, or try to make things right.”

  “Sweetheart, I’d said all I could. Do you forgive me?”

  “Why should I? You’ve never even said you love me.”

  His eyes rounded in shock. “Haven’t I told you in a thousand ways?”

  “Maybe, but I need to hear the words on occasion. And yes, I forgive you. Mattie reminded me I’d kept a thing or two from you also. Maybe not this important, but....”

  His grin wicked, he muttered, “Yes, there is that.” He closed the inch between them and took her mouth. His kiss sent a longing to her core and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Off balance, he fell back into an empty stall, landing on his back in the straw. Unwilling to break their kiss, they rolled until Tad lay on top, between her legs. He rocked against her, the friction in that sensitive place about to send her over the edge. She pulled his shirt from his jeans and ran her hand across the muscled plains of his chest and back. He grabbed her ankles and ran his hand up her legs and under her pantaloons. She caught his groan in her mouth as the flesh of her buttocks quivered against his touch. “Oh, God, Birdie, you’re so soft.”

  From outside, they could hear the men gathering. Hank yelled, “Hey Thomas, is that Miss Olivia walking this way?”

  “Yep, sure is. Bet she saw Miss Birdie ride in and come to check on her.”

  “Did you hear me, Thomas?”

  Tad groaned and yelled, “Hell, yes he did, along with half of Texas. Thanks for the warning.” Guffaws and titters arose outside.

  Birdie blushed scarlet, but Tad jumped up, pulled her with him and started stuffing his shirt in his pants. He knocked the straw off Birdie’s clothes and picked it out of her hair. She ran her hands through the long tresses, trying to restore a modicum of order. Tad grabbed his hat off the ground a plopped it on his head, and then took Birdie by the shoulders.

  “And for the record and for always, I love you with a passion I never expected to feel, Birdie. I’m so glad you came home.”

  Hank whistled Dixie as he made his way into the barn. “How about I be putting Strawberry away for you, Miss Birdie?”

  “Thank you, Hank. I’d like that.”

  Arms around each other they walked to meet Olivi
a.

  * * *

  Birdie rode Strawberry into town. Olivia had been shocked when she and Tad brought Nathan home, and she searched Birdie’s eyes for the truth of her feelings. Though caring for a child would take more of her time than she’d hoped to give right now, she couldn’t give up on her dream to build Birdie’s Nest. There was no other alternative. The child needed a mother. She’d just have to work longer hours and it wasn’t like she wouldn’t have help. She was content with her decision.

  A smile teased her mouth as she remembered her morning with Nathan. The little cutie. He’d gazed up at her with those beautiful eyes just like his daddy’s, trust radiating from them. He cooed, the sound awakening an emotion new to her. Could she love him already? Her throat clogged and she struggled to keep her chin from quivering. “I’m your mama now, Nathan. No one will hurt you when I’m around, or your daddy, or your granny.” She bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead, and then cradled him in her arms as one foot set the rocking chair in motion.

  Later that day, she tied the mare to the hitching post outside Waco City Hospital. Inside she asked to visit Lucy Jamison and was directed to the last room at the end of the hall. She tapped on the door.

  “Come in.” The woman’s invitation ended with a coughing spasm.

  Birdie hurried into the room and poured her a glass of water. Before Lucy took the liquid, she spent a minute or so gasping for breath. She nodded her thanks and took a couple of sips before handing the glass back.

  Lucy was a wasted vessel of the woman she’d once been. Her dark hair no longer shone with health, her skin had a sickly pallor. Birdie’s heart ached for her. Her beauty was gone, but being unable to breathe had to be a frightening experience, one she hoped never to go through. And giving up her baby had to be contributing to her quick decline.

  “May I sit down?” Lucy nodded and Birdie drew the chair closer to the bed. “Do you have everything you need? I know Tad is paying for your care, but is there anything I can get for you?”

  “No. They are taking good care of me here.” She closed her eyes. “Why did you come?”

  A lump formed in Birdie’s throat making it hard to speak. She didn’t want to break down and cry in front of this poor woman. She was here to reassure her, make her passing easier. “I wanted you to know that Tad and I have decided Nathan will live with us. We’ll raise him as our child.” Birdie reached for the hand lying atop the covers and squeezed. “I promise you, I’ll love him as if I’d given birth to him.”

  Fat tears rolled down Lucy’s cheeks. She opened her eyes and stared at Birdie. Lips trembling, she asked, “Why would you do that? Aren’t you afraid of what folks will say?”

  Birdie swiped at the tears that overflowed her bottom lashes. “Because, he is innocent in all this, and he’s Tad’s son. He already loves him, and I can assure you, between Olivia, Tad, and myself, we will handle the gossip and whatever folks dish out. We won’t allow anyone to hurt your child.”

  Lucy’s body shook with sobs. Birdie jumped up and patted her shoulder. “Hush now, you can’t do that. You’ll start coughing again.” Not good at comforting, Birdie panicked. She took Lucy’s hand and stroked it as she talked. “Breathe slowly now. That’s it. In and out.”

  When Lucy stopped shaking, Birdie sat down again. “Have you talked to a preacher or priest to set your house in order?”

  “Why should I?” Her dark eyes closed, blocking Birdie and her comments out. “People like me don’t deserve forgiveness.”

  “That’s bull. Everyone deserves absolution. Anyway, you’ve not done anything that bad, have you?”

  Lucy eyes popped open. Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

  “Have you killed anyone, been cruel to children, beat your mother?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Okay, there you go. Even murderers deserve forgiveness. How about on my way out I tell the receptionist you’d like to see someone.”

  “All right. I grew up Catholic so I’d like to see a priest.” Her lips tilted into a smile. “Thank you, Miss Braxton.”

  “Please, call me Birdie.” Maybe she could give this woman a little something more—an unusual story to distract her from her situation. “Now, I want you to close your eyes, and I’ll tell you an unbelievable story, but you have to promise not to share it with anyone else.”

  “I promise.”

  “Do you remember the day Tad pulled me from the Brazos River?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “Someone had hit me on the head and tossed me off a riverboat into the water. It’s a wonder I survived. But the odd thing here is the year was 2012 and….”

  * * *

  Birdie stopped by the Self Defense School, which sported a brand new sign, to visit with Mattie a moment between classes.

  “Hey, Mattie, the sign looks great.”

  “Doesn’t it, though. That sign maker over on Eight Street made it for a great price.”

  “You are keeping tabs and making sure part comes out of my share of the profits?”

  “Of course I am, dear. You don’t think I’d cheat myself, do you? Mattie hugged her. “How are the wedding plans coming along?”

  “Good, I guess. Olivia is taking care of everything.” Thank goodness, as Birdie never enjoyed planning parties and such. Aunt Patty had insisted she learn, but Birdie did as little entertaining as possible. She guessed one day she’d be required to entertain guests for Tad, but right now she’d rather be at the police station. “How are fittings going for your Matron of Honor dress?”

  Mattie patted her belly. “As long as I don’t gain another ounce, I’m good.”

  Birdie eyed the older woman. “You’re looking good, Mattie.” She’d lost probably twenty pounds and her new clothes showed off a fine figure.

  Mattie preened. “Joseph seems to think so too.” She blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. “You’d think we were newlyweds.”

  Birdie laughed, delighted the woman appeared so happy. “That’s wonderful.” She thought for a few minutes. “I wonder what I’ll look like after as many years of marriage as you’ve had.”

  “As active as you are, I’m sure you’ll look very much like you do now.”

  “I better start back on my exercise schedule soon. I’ve been so busy I’ve neglected to jog and go through my training routine.”

  Even though no one was in the big open area, Mattie lowered her voice. “Have y’all determined who’s been cutting up the doves?”

  “I’m hoping Detective Ethan will have a list of possible suspects today.” Glancing at the watch hanging around her neck, a gift from Tad, she muttered, “I better get a move on. See you again soon.”

  It didn’t take her five minutes after leaving the warehouse to reach the police station. Lloyd stood when he saw her come in and waved her toward his office.

  “Do you have some names?”

  He grinned. “Sure do and you’re not going to believe who’s on the list.”

  “Well, let me see it.” Her heart thundered with excitement and anticipation. They were near to catching the culprit.

  He removed a slip of paper from his desk drawer and scribbled three names on it before turning it around for her to see.

  Birdie stared at the list—John Samuelson, a deacon at the Lockhart’s church, Jim Wallace, Julie Wallace’s father, and Ted Bankston, a name unfamiliar to Birdie. No, it couldn’t be Julie’s father and she hated to believe John Samuelson would do such a hideous thing. Again she wondered if John was an ancestor of Carl’s—the unscrupulous rat.

  Lloyd nodded. “A pretty high profile list. We’ll have to be very careful how we conduct ourselves in this or there will be repercussions.”

  “How long does it usually take to get search warrants?”

  “Less than a day. We should be able to start searching first thing in the morning.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mrs. Wallace’s maid answered the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of Detective Ethan, Birdie, dressed a
s Officer Jenkins, and the three officers waiting on the street behind them. One man drove the small 4-wheel carriage to carry any evidence they collected while another went around the house to watch the rear exit.

  “Yes, sir. May I help you?”

  “I’m Detective Ethan.” He handed her a card. “I’m here on official police business and need to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Wallace. Are they in?”

  She glanced at the card and then up at Ethan. “Let me check. I’ll be right back.” Flustered, hesitant to leave the entry open, and with a smile resembling a grimace, she closed the door. They could see her through the glass insets as she bustled down the hall.

  Ethan glanced at Birdie. “I don’t think we’re welcome.”

  “I expect not. Can’t say I blame them. It’s not everyday the police show up on your doorstep in this neighborhood.”

  Out of breath, the maid returned and opened the door and gasped out, “Mrs. Wallace will see you in the parlor.”

  They waited while she closed the door and then followed her into the room where Birdie had taken tea with the society woman and the other mothers of her students.

  Perched on the sofa like a queen holding court, Mrs. Wallace nodded to them. Her gaze probed Birdie’s features and uniform. Lordy, Birdie hoped she didn’t recognize her. The older woman lost interest and turned her attention to Ethan. “Would you gentlemen care to have a seat while you tell me what your visit is about?” She smiled, dropping her chin slightly in a nod. “I expect you’re collecting money for the policeman’s ball or some such event.”

  “No, ma’am. We’re here with a search warrant.” He removed the document from his breast pocket, strode forward and handed her the paper.

  Mrs. Wallace opened the document and started to read. With each word her face deepened in hue, from a slight pink to almost purple. For a moment Birdie feared she’d have a heart attack. This must be what they call apoplexy.

  “This is preposterous!” She stood and waved the search warrant at Ethan. “I’ll have your job for this, detective.”