Рита Браун - Tall Tail

Ewing was intrigued. “Do you really?”

Charles stuck by John. “Money is even more of a problem there than here. The British, the French, the Austrians, even the Russians, continue to advance in artillery. The Spanish possess a good navy and they are much closer to us than the others. When they look at the New World, they see riches to plunder, riches so they can build even bigger armies and navies.”

“Yes, the Spanish are in the Caribbean and beyond, but we must remember your countrymen also ply the Caribbean. I’m a simple man,” said Ewing, who was not. “I believe in trade. Trade brings peace. War disrupts trade, drags people down with heavy expense and taxes. Those countries overrun are despoiled. If I can sit at a table and deal with men different from myself, why can’t they? Which reminds me of Francisco Selisse, a hard man, to be sure, but he was tireless in his pursuit of profit and he always made sure something was left on the table.”

“Beg pardon?” Charles had not heard of that expression.

“The man was shrewd and difficult to overcome. But if you dealt fairly with him, even though he would get the better of you, he left money on the table so you had something. And he never, ever bragged about winning his hand, so to speak.”

“You dealt successfully with him.” Catherine said this with warmth.

“Yes. I found it more hospitable to form a few ventures with him than not. We did well on our timber purchases. However, look at the success of the forge at Scottsville. He had a feel for such things.”

“He was a brute,” Catherine pronounced judgment.

“He was.” Ewing, startled by the loud crack of a log, laughed at himself. “I don’t know how you two withstood all that gunfire during the war.”

“Harder on the cannoneers,” Charles said. “They went deaf.”

“The strange thing is, you get used to it,” John stated. “The bombardment at Yorktown seemed almost natural after a time.”

“Speaking of Francisco, Rachel, I think you will be owing me four embroidered pillowcases.”

Rachel, eyes wide, exhaled. “It’s not even a year. I thought Maureen would wait a year.”

Catherine laughed her silvery laugh. “I didn’t. Jeffrey Holloway is too handsome and she is going to snatch at pleasure where and when she can.”

This subject enlivened them all. Their laughter was so loud it awoke snoring Piglet.

—

While the Garths sat by the fire, the flickering light of another fire played on the ceiling. Ailee had gone into labor. Bettina, Bumbee, Serena, and other women attended to her. As this was the young woman’s first birth, she was frightened.

With the exception of Ewing, everyone on the farm knew about and protected Ailee. She had not needed to run onto the outside stairway and into the woods. It helped that it still felt like winter and fewer people were about. The large weaving lodge attracted no attention except for those few women who wove cloth. At night, Ailee would walk, hooded, with other women for a bit of exercise. Within a week of moving into the large loft, she recovered sufficiently to cook. She also learned to repair garments and to darn socks. She never spoke, nor did she smile, but she expressed her gratitude to others. She would take their hand and squeeze it.

The labor lasted six hours, exhausting her, but finally she delivered a healthy girl.

When Bettina held her up to Ailee, the new mother turned her face away. The baby was white. She was not Moses’s child.

Wisely, Bettina did not try to force Ailee to hold her baby. “Bumbee, fetch Ruth.”

Within minutes, Ruth climbed the stairs, removed her coat, studied the mother.

“Ruth, will you take the baby?” Bettina handed the tiny perfect little thing to the young woman, who was nursing her own baby.

Ruth couldn’t hold any baby, kitten, puppy, bird, without wanting to mother it. The little hands waved in the air. Ruth held the child against her bosom and rocked her. “Look at the face. What a pretty baby.”

Bettina, Serena, Bumbee looked at one another and smiled.

“Ruth, I will see that you are rewarded for this. Best go now.”

Ruth threw her coat back on, held the baby under the scratchy wool, and left while the other women cleaned up the place, as well as Ailee.

Bumbee sat by Ailee. “You sleep now. I’ll be here. I’ll stay up here.”

Bettina trod downstairs, brought up a pillow and blankets for Serena from her cot. “If you have to lie down, and I would, this will help. It’s going to be cold tonight. I’ll throw more wood on the fire on my way out.”

Bettina and Serena looked at Ailee, then at each other. Bettina put her hand on Bumbee’s shoulder and squeezed.

So much sadness and nothing to do for it.

Monday, April 18, 1785

Bumbee awoke with a start. She looked to Ailee’s cot, but the woman wasn’t there. Half asleep, she carried her blanket and walked down the stairs, ready to stir the embers of the fire, throw on some logs to warm up the place. The cold steps on her bare feet roused her. At the bottom she saw Ailee hanging from the top railing of the stairway to the loft. She’d twisted her sheet to make a noose.

Dropping her blanket, barefooted, Bumbee rushed out into the cold. Father Gabe’s cabin was the closest. She pounded on his door. Already awake, the old fellow opened it.

“Father, Ailee’s dead.”

After Bumbee told him what she’d found, Father Gabe gathered a few men. They cut the poor woman down, wrapping her in the sheet with which she’d hung herself just as Bettina and Serena hurried in.

Bettina touched the sheet. “Oh, child, what have you done?”

“Let’s bury her now,” Father Gabe ordered. “No laying out.”

So the straggly group shortly found themselves standing over a deep open grave, into which the wrapped body of Ailee was placed.

The light frost still made digging the grave difficult.

Bettina recited the benediction instead of the service for the dead. “May the Lord bless thee and keep thee, may the Lord make His face shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee.”

Bettina stopped at Ruth’s cabin, which rested on the north side of the row, closer to the main house. She knocked on the door, opened it to find Ruth nursing the two babies, hers and Ailee’s, with a two-year-old at Ruth’s feet, the fire warming them all.

“Ruth, the babe’s an orphan.”

Ruth looked into Bettina’s eyes. “Ailee wasn’t strong, poor thing.”

“She’d seen enough.” Bettina dropped into a handmade wooden chair next to Ruth. “I will talk to the Missus.”

Ruth nodded. “And I will pray.”

Bettina reached over to stroke the newborn’s cheek. “So much pain, so much pain.” Then she smiled. “But like a little cricket you’ll be happy and hop around. All your sadness came early.”

“Amen.” Ruth patted the baby’s cheek, as well.

Shawl wrapped around her, Bettina, always erect, slowly walked to the main house. Serena fell in beside her.

Serena felt dreadful. “If only we’d known how she felt. We could have talked to her.”

“Honey chile, if someone has a mind to leave this earth, you can’t stop them. They’ll find a way. Ailee’s with Jesus now, her sins are washed away. She was far more sinned against than sinning.”

“But to take your own life.” Serena gasped.

“A sin, yes, but she will be forgiven. Christ died for our sins. The Old Missus and I would talk of such things.”