Harp on the Willow

by BJ Hoff

  Her name was Elly Murphy, and Daniel had the uneasy feeling that this particular flame was about to flare out of control.

  After supper, Stephen headed for the front porch in hopes of catching the occasional breeze that might drift down from the mountains. As for Clay, he excused himself the moment he took his last bite of dessert.

  Daniel remained in the kitchen long enough to offer Esther his help with the dishes.

  “Don’t be silly,” she told him in a tone that brooked no argument. “But stay a minute if you will. There’s something I need to ask you.”

  “Ask away.” Daniel helped himself to another glass of tea and then leaned up against the pie safe. “That was truly a fine meal, Esther. As always.”

  She shrugged, wiping her hands on the dish towel. Daniel noticed that her face was flushed, no doubt from the heat in the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you go outside with Stephen and Clay and let me finish in here?” he suggested. “There might be a bit of a breeze by now.”

  “As if I’d let you clean up my kitchen,” she shot back. “But I did want—”

  Abruptly, she stopped, going to the doorway that led onto the hall and peering out as if to make certain no one was close by.

  When she returned, she busied herself with putting the baking dishes in the cupboard. “I think I need to see you, Daniel,” she said, not looking at him.

  “Well, here I am.”

  “At your office.”

  She seemed nervous. Perhaps even troubled.

  Daniel studied her. Esther Holliday was a tall and full-bodied woman who gave the appearance of vitality and uncompromising good health. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall that he’d ever heard Esther so much as complain of a head cold or a sore throat. At the moment, however, her face was damp with perspiration, and the flush he’d noticed earlier had intensified.

  When she said nothing more but merely stood there, not looking at him as she proceeded to wring the dishcloth into a rope, he moved to prompt her. “Esther? What is it? Are you having problems?”

  “No,” she said a little too quickly. “No, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  Daniel waited.

  Finally, she turned but still didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I think—most likely it’s nothing more than my age, but—”

  She let her words drift off as she turned back to the dishes.

  “Your age? Why, Esther, you don’t look a day over thirty-five, and that’s the truth.”

  He knew how old Esther Holliday was. She wasn’t a woman to dissemble about her years, and besides, he’d attended the birthday party her family had hosted for her in May, at the time of her forty-third birthday.

  Even so, he hadn’t exaggerated her youthfulness. Esther truly did not show her years. At the moment, she looked as flustered as a schoolgirl. Even so, the significance of her reference to age finally registered with Daniel.

  “I see,” he said.

  She nodded, staring down at her hands gripping the counter. “I don’t know why, but I confess I’ve never thought about—that. Not until recently. I feel foolish, bothering you with woman problems, but I thought perhaps I ought to just make sure it’s nothing else.”

  “Well, of course you should. And you’re not bothering me, Esther. It’s my job.”

  As if she hadn’t heard, she went on. “It’s embarrassing, really, what with you being almost like family and all—”

  “Esther—”

  “If there were any other doctor nearby—”

  “Esther.”

  She shot him a quick glance.

  “You don’t need to be embarrassed,” Daniel said gently, hoping to put her at ease. “Why don’t you come down to the office in the morning? Around ten thirty?”

  She hesitated before nodding. “You won’t say anything to Stephen?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  “I don’t. It’s not necessary, and he fusses so.”

  “All right, then. But I’ll expect to see you tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll be there,” she said, her usual brisk demeanor returning. “Here,” she said, handing him a paper-wrapped bundle off the counter. “I thought Sarge might like a bone from the roast.”

  “Ah. He’ll thank you for this.”

  Daniel watched her for another moment and then left the kitchen. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that he had a nurse or at least an assistant—a woman—to help him attend to his female patients, who invariably delayed as long as they could before bringing what they referred to as their “woman troubles” to him.

  The thing was, sometimes they allowed their modesty to interfere with their good sense and delayed too long.

  He fervently hoped that would not prove to be the case with Esther Holliday.

  Outside, Daniel lowered his long frame to the top step. Stephen sat in his usual place, in the big plank rocker with the gingham cushions Esther had made. Clay was nowhere in sight, and Daniel didn’t ask his whereabouts. Lately, it seemed that any attempt to strike up a discussion about Clay merely served to fuel Stephen’s impatience or, on occasion, his temper.

  Besides, after the lively meal, he enjoyed simply sitting and enjoying the quiet. It was a sweet summer evening, heavily scented with mountain laurel and Esther’s climbing roses. Down at the stream that bordered the back pasture, the frogs were griping to one another like a bunch of bad-tempered old geezers airing their complaints of the day, while the cicadas tried in vain to drown them out. Oscar, the old hoot owl that Stephen claimed as a farm fixture by now, put in a question every now and then from his perch in the sugar maple tree. Other than the night creatures, it was peaceful as always, a peace Daniel never failed to savor.

  The two men exchanged idle talk about the coming autumn and the lumber business—Stephen owned a prosperous lumber mill up the valley in addition to his sprawling farm acreage—and talked in brief of their ideas about the new schoolhouse.

  “Speaking of which,” Daniel pointed out, “hadn’t we best be leaving for the meeting?”

  Stephen nodded but made no attempt to move. “This is the kind of evening Ben loved. Sometimes he would sit out here on the swing for hours, watching the night settle in.”

  Daniel smiled a little, fighting off a twinge of sadness. He figured neither Stephen nor Esther would ever get over missing their older son. The fact was, he still missed him too. Ben Holliday had been as good a man as any he’d met before him or after, and every now and then he still felt a slam of the old guilt-laced pain that he hadn’t been able to save his young friend’s life.

  So many good men had fallen that day, and although he and the other surgeons had managed to save a number of brave soldiers, the memory of those they hadn’t saved still clawed at him like a hair shirt.

  Stephen brought him back to the present when he stood and said, “Well, I’d best tell Esther we’re leaving.”

  He started to open the door and then delayed. “How did you find Mother by the way? Do you think she’s failing?”

  Daniel thought a minute. “Not since I saw her last, no. At least not physically. But the other—”

  “Her mind.”

  Daniel nodded. “It’s as I told you earlier, I’m afraid. There’s not likely to be any improvement.”

  “It’s hard to see her…like that, you know. Mother was always so bright. And clever. She had such a wit.”

  “Miss Ruth Ann is still a delightful lady,” Daniel pointed out.

  “She is, isn’t she?” Stephen agreed, but his smile was obviously forced. He hesitated a second or two and then said, “Daniel, I’ve wanted to ask you as well…have you noticed anything…different…about Esther?”

  Remembering his promise, Daniel hesitated. “Different? How do you mean?”

  Stephen Holliday was a big, strapping man, tall and deeply tanned, and as rugged and straight as an oak tree, but at the moment he was clearly concerned, appearing almost bent with anxiety. “Well, I’m not exactly
sure. It’s just that she seems so doggoned jittery most of the time. And cranky too. She takes offense at the least little thing. You know Esther. That’s not like her. Not a bit. I don’t know what to think.”

  “Perhaps it’s just the heat,” Daniel replied, uncomfortable with the need to be evasive. “Lots of folks are getting weary of it.”

  With his hand still gripping the screen door, Stephen’s expression cleared somewhat. “I hadn’t thought of that. I expect that’s exactly what it is, now that you mention it. The heat. We haven’t had much of a break for quite some time now.”

  “That’s a fact.”

  Stephen nodded, looking relieved as he opened the door and went inside.

  For his part, Daniel felt less confident than he’d tried to sound. Now that he’d done his best to reassure both Esther and her husband, he was somewhat unsettled to realize that he felt a need to reassure himself.

  FOUR

  BIG NEWS

  Within the future do not look,

  But live to-day—to-day.

  LYDIA AVERY COONLEY WARD

  Daniel sent Esther Holliday to his office after her examination, telling her he’d be back shortly.

  He had to give himself a few minutes before facing her.

  There was no telling how she would take this. He wished Stephen had come with her today, but apparently Stephen didn’t even know his wife was here. According to Esther, she had driven into town in her own buggy, combining her visit to Daniel with a visit to the dry goods store.

  At the moment Daniel stood in the small but neatly ordered pharmacy where he mixed his medications. The morning was already sweltering, the sun baking through the small, high window on the outside wall.

  With a swipe to his forehead with his sleeve, he ran a hand through his hair, which the humidity had turned into a tangled mass of stubborn curl. Esther was wont to nag him about his unfashionably long hair, pointing out that soon he’d be taking on the appearance of one of the mountain men who lived up the holler. He smiled a little at the thought. Esther did like to tease him as she might have one of her own boys, mentioning how the “salt” seemed to be gaining on the “pepper.”

  Nor was it beyond her to hint that Serena Norman might show a little more interest if he would increase his visits to Arlie Simpson, the town barber.

  He glanced at the door, sighed, and then started across the room. He had delayed long enough.

  Esther sat in the chair across from Daniel’s desk, staring at her hands and praying for the grace to accept the change that had come upon her. If indeed that’s all it was—the “change,” as her women friends referred to it. When they referred to it at all.

  She felt her hair slipping free of its knot and reached to tuck it back in place. Her hands left a damp spot on the front of her skirt from where she’d been wringing them, and she tried to brush the material dry. There seemed to be not an inch of her that wasn’t clammy this morning. The heat was awful.

  It isn’t the heat…

  She might just as well stop trying to fool herself. It was one of those hot flashes she’d heard her mother and Aunt Josie whispering about, years ago.

  And there would be worse things than the hot flashes to come, from what she remembered of those conversations about the “change.”

  But what if it isn’t the “change”? What if something has gone wrong inside me and will eventually make me ill and out of my head, like Letty Kincaid was for the few months before she passed away?

  Her stomach knotted. Please, Lord, let it just be the “change.” I’ll accept it and even try to be glad for it, if that’s all it is.

  Her gaze swept Daniel’s office. Clearly, he had worked hard—with Ira Birch’s help—to give what had once been Sidney Franklin’s domain Daniel’s own stamp of individuality.

  The exterior of the building had never been much: a white frame structure on a small piece of ground, with a vacant lot on one side and the foundry on the other. From where she sat, she could look outside and see the cemetery.

  Daniel admitted that he’d taken more than his share of ribbing from the town jokesters about the proximity of the burial ground to the doctor’s office. Inside, though, he and Ira had created a comfortable and, as best as Esther could tell, a reasonably well-appointed medical facility. In addition to the examining room and the pharmacy, there was now a small waiting room with benches and chairs—all built by Ira—and a counter that fronted Audrey’s reception desk. And Daniel’s office, of course, where she now sat waiting, trying not to be impatient.

  Daniel stopped just outside the open door, seeing that Esther had her head bowed.

  Esther was a praying woman. She would likely be praying even more than usual once she left his office today.

  Well, Lord, here goes. Brace Esther for this, and brace me too as I deliver the news to her.

  He cleared his throat and walked the rest of the way into the room.

  Esther looked up as he entered, her eyes like those of a doe trapped in the sights of a hunter’s gun. Clearly, she thought she knew what he was about to tell her and was dreading it. She had indicated that she believed herself to be at the end of her womanly cycles and now faced the inescapable approach of middle age.

  Daniel sat down behind his desk, picked up a pencil, and began rolling it around between the thumb and index finger of his left hand.

  “Well?” Her voice was strained. She sat poised on the edge of her chair, as if she might bolt from the room at any moment. “So…is it what I thought, then? My age and all?”

  Daniel studied her. “Ah, actually, no. It’s…something else, Esther.”

  She blinked and then looked away from him. He noted the damp splotch on the front of her skirt just before she wiped her hands down over it.

  “Well, what is it, Daniel?” she said, still not looking at him. “What’s wrong with me?”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she turned back to him. “Just tell me, for goodness’ sake! I can’t abide not knowing. Am I going to die?”

  Daniel saw that she was trembling. It dawned on him then that the usually stoic, imperturbable Esther Holliday was badly frightened. He could have kicked himself for not seeing her fear sooner and reassuring her.

  “No, Esther. You are most certainly not going to die.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant, her entire body appearing to sag with relief.

  “I promise you,” Daniel added carefully, “I have never lost an expectant mother yet.”

  Her eyes flew open. So did her mouth. “What?”

  Daniel nodded, unable to stop a smile. “You and Stephen are going to have a baby, Esther.”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “I can assure you that it’s not.”

  Her face flamed. “I didn’t mean…impossible. I just meant…”

  Still smiling, Daniel put the pencil down and leaned back in the chair a little. “I know what you meant, Esther.”

  “A baby… Oh, Daniel. Are you sure?”

  Again he nodded. “I’d say sometime in December.”

  He didn’t believe she had moved since he’d given her the news except to draw a breath. But now she quickly stood, her gaze roaming around the office as if she couldn’t quite decide where she was.

  Watching her, he also rose from his chair. “Congratulations, Esther.”

  She looked at him. “I…I can’t believe it. A baby, after all this time—” She broke off. “Daniel, I’m forty-three years old!”

  He knew he was grinning but couldn’t seem to help himself. “A very youthful forty-three, as it happens.”

  She gripped her hands and brought them to her throat. “Oh, mercy. What in the world will Stephen say?”

  “Well, now, if I know Stephen, he’ll light up like a barn fire. After the shock wears off.”

  She stood motionless, her hands still clasped at her throat as if in prayer. “I never dreamed…”

  “Nevertheless—”

  “I feel so foolish!
”

  Daniel frowned. “Foolish? I can’t think why. Didn’t you tell me once that you and Stephen always wanted more children, and you were disappointed when none came along after Clay?”

  “Yes, but we were young then! But now… Why, Clay’s a man grown. And Stephen is forty-nine. We’re—middle aged.” She stopped. “What will people think?”

  Daniel struggled to keep a stern face as he came around the desk. “Esther Holliday, you are the one person I never thought I’d hear ask such a question! It’s never bothered you before what people think. Why would you let it matter now when you’ve been given nothing less than a gift from God?”

  Gradually, her expression changed, as if she had only then thought about the baby. “But the baby… Daniel, I’ve heard stories. You know, about babies born late in life. That sometimes things aren’t…as they should be. Will the baby be all right?”

  Daniel could imagine what kind of stories she’d heard, and some of them might have been true. But he would talk to her about the risks later, not today. One thing at a time.

  “Esther, you and Stephen couldn’t be in better health. And it isn’t as if this is your first child, after all. You’ve given birth twice before. And I am going to see to it that you and your baby have the very best of care.”

  “Oh, I know you will, Daniel!” She was quiet for a moment. “How do you think Stephen’s going to react to this?”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need to ask?”

  For the first time since she’d walked into the office that morning, she smiled. A genuine, bright, Esther Holliday smile. “No doubt he’ll be strutting like a peacock for the next few months,” she said, her tone dry.