by Kitty Margo
Clara giggled with absolute delight and amazement when he tossed the object to the ground and it traveled back up the string to be caught in his hand. She watched him intently as he played with the strange toy.
“This is called a bandalore, Clara.” Slipping the loop from his finger, he asked, “Would you like to try it?”
After a rapid nodding of her head she held out her hand so he could slip the loop over her finger. She tossed the bandalore and it fell to the dirt with a plop.
“Uh,” she grunted. Why didn’t it return to her?
“Now don’t go getting discouraged.” Joshua smiled fondly. “Have a little patience, Clara. It takes several tosses to get the hang of it.”
It took over an hour, in fact, but the bandalore eventually traveled back up the string to be caught in her hand. She squealed with delight, rushing inside to show her grandmother the new toy.
The following morning Joshua and an annoying rooster were up with the sun. He intended to get his body back into some sort of routine, one that did not entail lying in bed all day, and help Clara with her daunting workload.
Joshua followed her to the shed, leaning heavily on a sturdy tree limb Clara had found in the woods. He watched with wonder as she pulled up a stool and proceeded to milk their one cow as expertly as any farmer could.
“You are pretty good at that, aren’t you?” Joshua chuckled.
Clara nodded her head and grinned and he would swear from her playful expression that she was erroneously assuming that a man from the wealthy planter class wouldn’t know a fig about milking a cow. He would show the little imp a thing or two. “May I?”
Rising from the stool, Clara motioned for him to sit and stood to the side with her arms crossed, obviously waiting for a good belly laugh. Unbeknownst to her, Joshua had milked many cows as a boy. Grabbing a teat he took a deadly aim and sent milk splashing straight into her face.
She gasped and ran behind a post, peeking out with laughter in her dancing blue eyes and shaking her finger at him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Clara.” He bestowed upon her his most charming smile that no female, young or old, had ever been able to resist. “Did I accidentally squirt milk on you?”
Wiping milk from her face with her apron, she nodded her head and wagged her finger at him letting him know there was nothing accidental about the episode whatsoever. Then her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands gleefully when she heard milk splashing into the bucket. Joshua winked at the adorable youngster and imagined her thinking, “Well, there’s one chore I won’t have to do every morning.” Grabbing a basket hanging from a nail on the wall with one hand, Clara tossed her bandalore with the other as she left to gather eggs from the henhouse.
When she returned the bucket was filled with milk, but Joshua didn’t have the strength to lift it and he dared not risk spilling it since there wouldn’t be any more until the following day. Dropping the bandalore in her apron pocket, Clara brushed his hands aside, lifted the bucket easily, and carried it and her basket of eggs into the house so her grandmother could prepare breakfast.
Joshua could only watch helplessly as she carried armloads of firewood inside for the stove and fireplace and walked to the creek for two buckets of water. Just as she was returning with the water, Lucille called, “Breakfast is on the table. Come and get it while it’s hot!”
Joshua hobbled to the table where they feasted on fried eggs, corn mush, buttered cornbread, apple preserves and milk. Obviously Clara knew how to grow a crop of corn and grind it into to cornmeal. Was there anything the child couldn’t do? He sipped milk as he pondered Clara’s amazing abilities, while at the same time his mouth practically watered for a cup of strong black coffee.
After being up since the crack of dawn, Joshua was forced by his aching muscles and fatigued body to lie down across the bed for a nap while Clara left to hunt for meat and forage for wild mushrooms and herbs. He had never once seen her return home empty handed.
Lucille churned butter, ground corn into meal, and made cheese along with her various household chores when she wasn’t preparing their meals.
Later that evening as Joshua sat staring into the fire so Clara could take a sponge bath and slip on her nightgown, he sung the song he had told her weeks earlier was written by a Mister Stephen Foster named Angelina Baker.
I’ve seen my Angelina in the springtime and the fall,
I’ve seen her in the cornfield, and I’ve seen her at the ball;
And every time I met her she was smiling like the sun,
But now I’m left to weep a tear cause Angelina’s gone
Clara had heard him sing the song so often she hummed the chorus along with him.
Angelina Baker! Angelina Baker’s gone
She left me here to weep a tear
And beat on the old jawbone
Several days later Joshua was singing the song as he sat on the bank of the creek watching Clara carefully turn over rocks in search of crawdads. He had quickly deduced it to be her favored fishing bait, and she knew to pick the angry crustaceans up by the back so they couldn’t latch their pinchers onto her tender flesh.
As he sung the song, Joshua absently picked up a stick and drew a rough sketch of where Lucille had said they were in upstate South Carolina in comparison with Charleston. Standing over him with her bucket of noisy crawdads scrambling around on the bottom, Clara grunted at the sketch as Joshua pointed out the route he planned to take when he was well enough to leave.
Clara hastily committed the sketch to memory before Joshua brushed it into oblivion to begin another of her daily alphabet lessons.
Lynna and the baby were at Sea Grove.
After too many late night, one-sided conversations to count, Clara knew Lynna should have delivered Joshua’s child by now. They sat by the fire wide awake, as it was impossible to sleep until Lucille’s saw mill snores had died down and usually that wasn’t until after she had been asleep for a few hours. She and Joshua often played draught on an old checkerboard with game pieces that Joshua had carved from wood while sitting on a stump in the sun watching Clara go about her daily chores.
After many such discussions, Clara felt she knew each member of his family personally. There was Lynna his beautiful wife, the evil Suzanne straight from the bowels of hell, his father in a wheeled chair after a tree felling accident had caused him to lose both legs, his sweet white haired mother, and his sister Malinda with freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose from too much time spent in the sun without her parasol.
On rainy days Clara loved to sit by Joshua’s bed while her grandmother dozed by the fire and listen to stories of his thrilling adventures as the Captain of the Windjammer, the many exciting cities he had visited, and always of Lynna and their child. She could picture in her mind, vividly, the day Joshua had opened his cabin door on the Windjammer and found the stunningly gorgeous Lynna Rhodes sitting on his bed, and she already despised Suzanne almost as much as Joshua did.
“Do you ladies ever have visitors out here?” Joshua queried.
“Maybe once or twice a year,” Lucille answered, dishing out plates of fried rabbit, collard greens, and sweet potatoes. “We’re a good ways off the beaten path like I told you, so usually if somebody comes a knocking it ain’t somebody we want to see.” She motioned to the rifle sitting in the corner. “My eyes ain’t so good, but Clara there is a dead aim and don’t never miss her target.”
“What do you do for supplies, ammunition for the gun?” Joshua couldn’t imagine the hardships these two handicapped females had endured living alone without a man to care for them. But when he thought about it, they didn’t seem to want for food and Lucille was an excellent cook. Clara was a skilled hunter and they dined on squirrel one day, venison, turtle, rabbit, duck, turkey, pheasant or whatever animal ran across her path the next. They were never without fish, potatoes, turnips, sweet potatoes, or collard and turnip greens, or eggs.
“We got a buggy and we ride into town a couple times a y
ear for our staples, but it’s a two day trip and it ain’t no fun sleeping out in an open buggy at night, is it girl?” Clara shook her head in agreement. “And I worry about who we might meet on the road.” She tipped her head toward Clara. “I just feel safer here at home. They’s evil people out there.”
Joshua immediately thought of Suzanne. “Sometimes we don’t find out how truly evil they are until it’s too late.”
“That’s the truth if you ever told it,” Lucille agreed. “We don’t make the trip into town no more than we have to. We get by with what we got.”
Joshua had so many unanswered questions for the half blind woman and her mute granddaughter. “Don’t hesitate to tell me if it’s none of my business, but where do you get the funds to purchase your supplies?”
“Clara can trap as good as she can hunt, so we always have beaver skins and a couple of mink furs to sell.” Clara grunted and pointed to the cabinet, unwilling to take all the credit. “And I usually have a few jars of my apple and blackberry preserves.” Lucille gazed at her granddaughter proudly. “Like I said, we get by. Don’t we, girl?”
Clara’s nodded her head and fixed her eyes on Joshua. When she sat transfixed like that he often wondered what she was thinking. It was almost like she could see clear through to his soul with her brilliant blue eyes.
“When do you suppose I will be able to return home?” he asked no one in particular.
“Maybe another month ‘fore you can ride to town in a carriage. We don’t have a real road onto the property, it’s more like a trail of rough ridges and potholes.” Lucille answered. “I don’t think your body is ready for that particular torment just yet.”
Just the thought of his aching ribcage and the pain he would have to endure being bumped and jostled in a carriage caused Joshua to break out in a cold sweat.
“All the bleeding has stopped and the hole in your chest is finally starting to heal.” Lucille met his eyes. “You are a walking miracle if ever I seen one.”
“Clara here is my miracle.” Joshua smiled fondly at the girl he had grown to love as though she were his own daughter. “Another month you say?”
“Yep, you done been here three months.” Lucille chuckled. “Another one won’t kill you.”
“I suppose you’re right, but I worry about Lynna. She has to think I’m dead by now. I can’t even imagine what this is doing to her in her condition.” Dropping his head in his hands, he shook his head sorrowfully. “I don’t even know if our baby was delivered safely, if Lynna is well, or if I have a son or a daughter. Not knowing is killing me. I need to get home to Sea Grove.” He looked at Clara, who sniffled and hastily wiped a tear from her cheek. “We need to get home to Sea Grove.”
“What do you mean, we?” Lucille asked suspiciously.
“Of course you and Clara will be returning to Sea Grove with me,” Joshua stated in a matter of fact manner. “Your days of working from sunup to sundown will soon be at an end.”
Clara was instantly on her feet moving her hands in a rocking motion.
“Yes, Clara, of course you can hold the baby. As often as your little heart desires.” Joshua’s mind drifted across the miles that separated him from his family. “I wonder if we have a boy or girl?”
Clara didn’t seem to care. Her eyes were blissfully closed as she rocked the invisible baby in her arms and prepared for bed with a kaleidoscope of thoughts, images, and what if’s racing through her head.
Sometime during the night, Joshua awakened to the sound of heartbroken sobs. He looked toward the fire to see Lucille clutching Clara’s threadbare ragdoll to her chest.
“What has happened, Lucille?” It took a while, but he made a slow painful progress out of the bed to go to her. “What has you so upset?”
“Clara is… gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean… gone?” He glanced toward Clara’s empty pallet. “Where would she go? You said yourself town was a good two days ride.” Joshua looked around for his boots. “I must find her.”
Lucille immediately laid a calm, staying hand on his arm. “Ain’t no need for that. She took Jezebel and high tailed it out of here probably as soon as we went to sleep last night. She might be mute, but my girl is clever. If I ain’t mistaken, and I know that girl better than anybody, she has gone to find your wife and bring her to you.”
“What?” Joshua was appalled. “You cannot be serious!”
Lucille’s eyes quickly filled with tears, assuring him that she was dead serious.
“But, Sea Grove is several days ride from here. Clara can’t talk, if she finds herself in trouble she can’t ask for help.” Joshua was beside himself with worry for the child. He should never have gone on and on about Lynna and the baby and his desire to return home to them. “We must take the carriage and find her.”
“Can’t do that,” Lucille sniffed. “You know Jezebel is the only horse we have.” Then she looked to the corner where her rifle normally stood and chuckled. “And my girl ain’t gonna starve.” Cataracts blurred the old woman’s vision but her eyes burned with intensity. “Clara was born with a caul covering her face, which gives her good luck.”
“Clara was born with a veil?” Joshua whispered, incredulously. Although, he had known early on that the child possessed a gift.
“She surely was.” Lucille sniffled then blew her nose. “So, don’t you worry about my girl. She will return to us safe and sound.”
Joshua slumped down on a stool in front of the fireplace feeling hopeless and totally useless. He wished he had Lucille’s faith in a happy ending.
Dear Lord, let the child be safe.
Joshua prayed more fervently than he ever had, knowing that if anything should happen to his sweet Clara he would hold himself solely to blame.
Chapter 15
After seven weeks on the ship Lynna finally awakened one morning with the strength to walk around the cabin unassisted. Making her way to the mirror above Sean’s shaving bowl she gasped, utterly horrified by the face staring back at her. The scabs were dry and crusty. Some had already flaked off and left shiny bright pink skin underneath. Sean had gently applied the smelly ointment several times daily to promote healing, for that she was grateful.
But why was he being so kind to her? She had made the point adamantly clear that she would never love another man after Joshua. Or was he simply determined to make her fulfill her promise? Perhaps she should just bed him and get it over with. One night in his arms shouldn’t be so terrible. Her body was well enough to lie still beneath him while he satisfied his carnal urges. Then they could focus on more important things. Like returning her to her son.
As if thinking of him made him materialize, Sean appeared in the doorway with a broad smile spreading across his ruggedly handsome features. “Well, good morning. I didn’t expect to see you up and about.”
Lynna watched him through the mirror, ashamed of her horrendous appearance. “I look a fright.”
His eyes never left hers as he moved to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and peering at her in the looking glass. “I will admit that you haven’t been your most becoming as of late, but, on the bright side, your appearance is definitely improving. Here, come sit on the balcony with me while I apply your salve.”
Obligingly Lynna followed him to the balcony enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. She filled her lungs with the fresh salty air and forgetting herself leaned back into the hard muscles of Sean’s welcoming embrace, enjoyed the feel of his strong arms around her waist. “How much longer will we be at sea?” Suddenly realizing what she had done, she swiftly left his arms, taking her seat on the stool with a crimson blush staining her cheeks.
An amused grin played across Sean’s lips as he dipped his finger in the smelly balm and began dabbing small amounts on the few remaining sores. “A week at most.” He was thrilled with her progress. She actually seemed to be showing some interest in her surroundings. “Why, Lynna? Are you anxious to leave my ship and plant your feet on sol
id ground?”
“Not really, I was just wondering.” Her hand moved to her face self-consciously. “I wouldn’t want anyone to see me like this. I’m sure small children would scream in terror and flee in the opposite direction.”
Sean grinned at her attempted humor. “Most of the scabs will have fallen off by the time we reach port and you should have regained most, if not all, of your former beauty.” He desperately wanted to see her radiant smile again. “I almost forgot.” Slapping his thigh he turned a beaming countenance toward her. “I purchased a few dresses and accessories before leaving Charleston.” With a wicked grin his eyes swept over her petite frame from head to toe. “The way your plump little self has been eating lately I may be forced to purchase another new wardrobe in a size larger.” He ducked and moved a few feet away before she could swat at him with her tiny fist.
“That is not true!” Lynna was amazed to find herself laughing and teasing with Sean, when she would have sworn she would never smile again. “You purchased new clothes for me?” She had only worn the nightgowns he’d left for her to change into after her bath. “May I see them?”
“Well, of course, little one. They are yours to do with as you please.” Taking her hands he led her through the balcony door and into the cabin to stand beside his sea trunk. Lifting the lid he brought out four fashionable and beautifully made dresses and petticoats one at the time for her approval, along with matching hats, ribbons, and shoes. “I hope these are satisfactory, Madame.”
Lynna was completely astonished. They were dresses she would have chosen for herself if given the opportunity. “Why, they are perfect, Sean.” Holding one of the dresses in front of her she turned to gaze into his dancing eyes. “But, how did you know my size and the colors I liked?”