by Mari Collier
“This house is a mess, and she looks big enough to have twins or else there is something seriously wrong with the baby. Where are your eyes? Why didn't y'all let Grandmère take charge and bring in that housekeeper? And, James, try telling the truth.”
James swallowed. The vise around his brain seemed to loosen, then tighten. “I cannot stand that woman. She's not natural. She has to be over 70, yet she looks like she's in her thirties.”
A small smile twitched at the right side of Lorenz's mouth. “Well, well, y'all do have eyes, but Grandmère's looks aren't what we're talking about either. Why didn't y'all let the housekeeper come in here? One is certainly needed.”
“I can't afford that on a Pastor's salary,” James admitted stiffly and tried to rise, but his legs refused to move.
“Mina has money. Papa settled $10,000.00 dollars on her on her twenty-first birthday.”
“But I can't touch it. You're the trustee of the account.”
“That is correct, James, we don't trust y'all. All I needed was a letter or telegram from Mina and the letter of credit would have been here within two weeks.”
“We need to live on my salary.”
“Y'all are being an ass. Face it, James, what y'all want is control of that money. Then y'all would do something stupid with it, like build another church or give it to the seminary.”
“There's nothing wrong with giving back to God.”
“Agreed, but not with someone else's money. Now back to Mina. Since y'all are not treating her according to St. Paul's instructions, y'all are going to listen to her brother's instructions.”
James looked bewildered. “I am the head of the household as anyone who knows God's Word would agree.”
“Y'all want me to point out the passage about treating your wife like your own body?”
“The MacDonald's are known for spoiling their women.”
“James, shut up and listen. The housekeeper comes in here tomorrow. Grandmère will be here and stay with Mina all day. Whether she sleeps here or not is up to her. Y'all will get your doctor in here, and then a specialist from the hospital if Grandmère doesn't like him. Have I made myself clear?”
James tried to fold his arms over his chest and found that they remained inert. His efforts at trying to move were futile and moisture was building on his forehead and upper lip from the exertion.
“Why can't I move?” His words were a cry of anguish.
“Because I won't let y'all,” came the mild words. “We haven't reached an agreement yet.”
James's lips went white. “Only God or the Devil can do such things.”
“Wrong, Young James, I'm neither; it's simply that my parentage isn't yours. I just want y'all to realize that the same bloodlines run in Papa's family so there's the chance that the child Mina carries will be more like us than y'all.”
James shuddered. He was in the middle of a nightmare and he couldn't wake up. Somehow he must have help. He started to yell, but his mouth closed and no sound came.
“Y'all want to consider for a while? We could clear the table while y'all think about it.”
James squirmed trying to move, but his feet remained glued to the floor and his body still. Finally, he whispered. “What else can you do?”
“Remember Shelton after his gunnies nearly killed Papa? Shelton couldn't talk, walk, or hold a pencil. Somebody had to feed him. I did that James. Get that through your thick, German skull, but right now I'm here to make sure Mina lives to have that baby. From the looks of her, that might not happen. Hasn't that occurred to y'all?”
“All women walk through the valley of death when they have a baby.”
“That is not true. Good Lord, man, what's wrong with y'all? Mama had six of us and never a problem. One died, and that had nothing to do with the birth. My wife, your sister, and your sister-in-law have had children and never looked like Mina.”
James was white lipped. He didn't want to talk about such matters even though Lorenz was correct. How to get this man out of his house?
“James, I suggest y'all be reasonable. Right now y'all are dealing with me. Y'all really want to face Papa if something happens to his wee lassie? Y'all think I'm a hard ass? Papa won't even bother to reason with y'all. Now have y'all reconsidered? Remember should that child be like Papa or me, y'all will need help in the raising.”
James slumped back against the chair. “Papa MacDonald can do what you're doing?”
“This and break bones with his bare hands; which I can't.”
“Why didn't Mina tell me?” His voice was back to a whisper.
“I don't believe Papa ever told Mina everything. He just told her Mina's Story. Perhaps in his own way, he felt Mina would never have children. He probably plans on telling her once she does have a child. Y'all will have to ask him, if Mina and the baby live. Which will it be, James? Mina having the care she needs or y'all losing everything?”
“What do you mean everything?” James was stiff-lipped.
“I reckon that's for y'all to worry about.” Lorenz smiled down at his brother-in-law, the scar on right side of his face pulling the lips higher than the left.
James knew he had lost. “Do you really believe Martin will be your friend when I tell him about this?”
“Oh, I intend to tell Martin that I raised holy hell with y'all over the way y'all treated Mina.” The smile became wider.
“Y'all don't really think Martin's going to believe much of what y'all say. He'll just think y'all were too scared to stand up when your tongue couldn't get things your way. Now what's it going to be. Are y'all going to let Grandmère, the housekeeper, and the doctor come in here to take care of Mina?” Lorenz's voice rose on the last sentence.
James hid his face in his hands. At least he could move them again, and he looked up at Lorenz. The man was implacable.
“Very well, but Mina still needs to take care of this table.”
“Y'all are an idiot. We are going to take care of the table and the dishes once we come to an agreement. Mina is staying in bed where she belongs. Get that through your head.”
James considered. He hadn't done dishes since he was a boy and Olga had moved out when she married Tom Jackson. Papa and Martin didn't care if the plate was clean or not. Tonight was the same. There was no way out if he ever wanted to stand again.
“What will my congregants think if I have a housekeeper?”
“Who cares?”
“They may never pay me again. I don't have a ranch.” The bitterness lashed out. His father had followed the old ways of giving all to the older son. Other than paying for his education, James was given nothing material; only memories and memories weren't currency.
“James, if you're a good pastor, remind them that the laborer is worthy of his hire.” Inside, Lorenz harbored a certain amount of sympathy for James's complaint. Pastor's salaries were low and too often consisted of unneeded garden produce. “As I said, Mina has money. Now it's time to decide. No more objections, and don't try to tell me y'all will have me excommunicated. I won't let it happen even if one of the other Elders believed y'all.” His voice and eyes hardened.
James considered long enough for the vise on his head to tighten, then loosen. If he tried to explain his reasons that Lorenz possessed supernatural powers or committed them to paper, sane people would think that he, James, was insane. If Lorenz's boast about Shelton was true, how could he prove it? Shelton was dead. His mouth was dry and he desperately wanted to regain use of his legs. He expelled a burst of air from his lungs.
“All right, the housekeeper may come here, but first Mina will have to clean it.”
“No, that's for the housekeeper to do, and y'all didn't say a thing about Grandmère.”
James looked at the set face of his brother-in-law and knew that he must agree. Not only agree, but live with the fact that Lorenz would still tell Martin about how “he rescued his sister” in San Antonio and Martin would simply nod his head or laugh. Right now, it was difficult for James t
o decide which man he detested most.
“Very well, the housekeeper and your Grandmother, but neither may stay overnight. There isn't room.”
“Thank y'all, James. I really think you're the one to go tell Mina, if she's awake. Don't wake her. I'll put the water on to heat, and we'll both take care of the dishes.”
James stood, surprised that his legs weren't shaking. With one last glare at Lorenz he stalked into the bedroom. Mina was lying on the bed, her clothes on, sleeping soundly. He shook his head and backed out, suspecting that if he woke her, Lorenz would know. Already, he was thinking of ways to avoid Lorenz for the rest of his life.
* * *
“Toni, listen to this. It's from Grandmère.”
It was the last week of May, 1887, and Lorenz was reading a letter one of the hands had brought back from Arles.
“Dear Younger Laddie and Toni, Tis the grandest news. Mina has given birth to two wee laddies. She tis fine, but a bit weak. The ritual of baptism is to be soon, although as a precaution I think the young fool of a counselor that Mina wed did so already. The babes twere a bit early by two weeks. They've named them James Wilhelm Rolfe, Jr. and Lamar Victor Rolfe. The last born tis named in honor of my own dear brither although what he would do with a second and third name tis puzzling. This world uses two or three words when one twould do.
I twill remain here till Llewellyn arrives. Then we twill do a proper presentation. Ye, Lorenz, as Laird should be here. Should Mina still remain weak after her fither arrives, I twill remain. The housekeeper shall stay as long as Mina needs her. James seems to accept this as someone he considers important (Lorenz could almost hear LouElla snorting) thought him quite prudent in money management while keeping the household together and still working long hours for the church. Mina tis delighted with the babes and proud that James has been asked to forward church news to some place in Missouri.
When twill ye be here?
Yere loving Elder Mither.”
Chapter 15: Blizzard
Antoinette woke thinking the morning was quite warm. She stretched and sat up. Dawn was still with them, but light was beginning to seep into the room. Lorenz was gone, his side of the bed already cold. Randall was in the East going to school. Kendall had begged off schooling for one year to work with Lorenz on the ranch. Melissa was in her last year of schooling here on the ranch. She stretched again, knowing she should move and dress for breakfast. Conchita knocked on the door and entered.
“Breakfast is almost ready. Do you want a bath afterwards, Senora?”
“No, I do believe I'll save that for this afternoon. It's going to be a warm day.” She swung her legs over the edge. “For now I'll just wear my robe and you may do my hair afterward.”
Toni had reason to regret her words. The day was “warm.” So warm it felt like summer. Strange, this was January: January 12, 1888. It should be cool at the very least. This was the time for sewing clothes for the coming season before the work of planting the gardens arrived. Time to write long letters to friends before the rhythm of ranch life went back to working from morning to night. Not that Toni did physical work from morning until night, but she oversaw the servants who did, saw to their needs, and ran the ranch during Lorenz's absence.
She asked for lunch on the back porch to watch the men breaking the almost two-year-old horses for ranch work. She looked up as the cook approached.
“Senora, do you still want your coffee out here?” Josephina spoke in Spanish.
Startled Toni looked up and realized she was growing cold, the wind stiff and unpleasant. She had been thinking of those long ago pleasant rides with Daniel, his body so much a part of the horse it was pure pleasure just watching him. She stood. The wind seemed to be coming from the east and then from the north. How strange.
“No, Josephina, I'll take the coffee inside. Please take the tray with y'all.”
Before following Josephina inside, Antoinette walked to the north end of the porch and gasped at the black, roiling clouds that seemed to cover the sky at a 180 degree curve. Something is wrong flashed through her mind. Where is Lorenz? Yes, he'd gone to their western section where the railroad was coming through. He had said something about checking on the crew's progress and moving the herd out of the way. Quickly she entered the house as the temperature seemed to verge on freezing. How could it drop so rapidly?
She had entered by the back French doors and hurried through the long, sweeping hall that had once been part of the dining area. The staircase swept up from the front and curved to a large landing before turning to enter the hall dividing the upper floor bedrooms. Then a narrower staircase ran towards the newly added attic.
“Conchita, my shawl, por favor. I'm going to check on whether Mr. MacDonald has returned.”
Before she could step off the front porch, she realized the shawl was inadequate and was about to turn back when she saw Lorenz pounding into the ranch yard. He saw her and raced his horse toward her.
“Keep everybody inside! I stopped at the school and they are all coming here. Tell the people inside to stay there or to go get their children if they have any. This one is bad. I'll get men and the Rolfe boys started on bringing in wood after they put up their horses. Y'all better order several large pots of beans for tonight.” He yelled his words and whirled the horse to head towards the barn.
Toni looked down the lane and saw the younger Rolfe boys, Ernest, Kasper, Fritz, and Teddy, riding in with set faces. Melissa and Arthur Plank were riding double with Ernest and Kasper. Melissa slid off at the fence and helped Arthur down. Together they ran up to the porch.
“Mama, y'all should have heard Pawpaw shouting at everybody.” Melissa had started talking at nine months. Papa had come out as Pawpaw and so he remained. Her southern accent was almost as thick as her mother's. “He says we are to stay inside and do exactly as y'all say.”
At fourteen, Melissa was planning to go to Saint Louis or New York for school. Antoinette had not decided which. Melissa was a replica of her mother except her eyes were as grey as her father's and she stood five-foot five; tall for a woman in 1888.
Five-year-old Arthur looked upset. “Daddy will come for me.” He took off his hat as they entered the house.
Toni blanched at the idea. Dear God, I hope Gerald has enough sense to stay home if it's as bad as Lorenz says, she thought, and then there was no time for thinking.
For a moment even the wind held its breath. Then the wind slammed against any creature still outside while pounding them with tiny, tiny pellets of hard, frozen snow; not ice, but tiny, compacted snow as fine as flour filled the air so thickly that within ten minutes the landscape changed from the brown of a prairie winter to a billowing, white sea. Drifts were piling up and stretching out, adhering to the side of anything facing north or northwest. Landmarks disappeared under the onslaught; men bent over trying to move against its force lost; any child outside was soon lost and frozen. Horses had sense enough to turn their backs to the wind and many would survive. But cattle? The cattle from parts of Texas into Canada stood or lay where they were as placidly as ever while the snow covered them and froze their nostrils shut. People fortunate enough to make it inside lit their fires and pulled their blankets around them as they waited and waited.
* * *
Toni blinked her eyes against the dark and realized the snoring from the other room had awakened her. Who was in her house? Before panic could overwhelm her, she remembered the events of the last two days.
“We're bringing all the mattresses downstairs and closing the upper floors off.” Lorenz had announced after they'd taken turns eating. Most had eaten at the large kitchen table. The Rolfe boys and Arthur Plank had joined them at the dining room table, and then after they'd finished two of the hands and the rest of the Mexican family members who had not fit at the kitchen table were served.
“And all of the chamber pots,” Toni quickly commanded. “We can sit them outside the kitchen door on the porch.”
That method proved fut
ile as the wind threatened to throw the empty pots skyward or smash them into the wall if a person let loose of the handle. That left the living room, the secluded room for their baths, Lorenz's office, or a blanketed off section of the kitchen. All were really unacceptable alternatives in Antoinette's mind as she could feature some hand with a bad aim ruining her floors or precious carpeting.
Lorenz solved the problem by selecting his office and closing the door. The two men, boys really, who had been carrying in the firewood looked at her with smirks and happily followed their employer's orders on retrieving the mattresses while Toni tried to issue orders as to which bedding to bring down.
“Honey, the warmest, and y'all and the women can bring it down.” He turned to the men. “Put your coats on. We're bringing the rest of the wood in that we can and putting it in the office too. We'll use a rope tied to the door and to each other to keep from getting lost out there.”
Now she lay here in the darkness, Lorenz asleep beside her, their son and daughter, and Conchita on mattresses in their bedroom.
After two days, the smells from all those people were disturbing, and the cold cut through everything. She found herself praying for those out in the bunkhouse, for their headman and family, the teachers in their own home by the school, and the Mexican families that stayed in their cabins. It was obvious the beans and stew had not agreed with everyone's system, and Toni's prayers turned towards asking for sleep. It was cold, too cold to think of moving and, as Lorenz had warned, the wood had to last for cooking and heating when people were out from under the covers.
The sounds of people snorting, farting, moving, closing doors, and talking woke Toni. She slid out of bed, put on her dressing gown, and wrapped the top blanket around her shoulders and headed into what had been her bathroom. Conchita was there using the chamber pot.
“I'm sorry, Senora, but there is nowhere else. The woman stood, embarrassed as the sound and odor of her morning wind filled the room.